Chapter Twenty-Four: The Hero and the Butcher Clash, to the Song of Illium!
Part 1:
Admirals of the Fourth Fleet - FSS Maria Cooper
End of Third Day of Diplomatic Talks
July 3, 2167 23:00:00 UTC
"Damn it Han, we are going to be late!"
"Keep your suit on! I'm going, I'm going!"
Through the large main corridors of the Maria Cooper, the new Terran Admiral Zaal'Koris and Vice Admiral Han'Gerrel pushed their way through a congested corridor, as the crew of the massive aircraft carrier rushed to their stations. Along the corridor, the lights flashed yellow, bringing the ship to stand by on alert as loud speakers sounded off and alerted the ship of general orders, crew organization, and other important information.
"Attention! Attention! Now hear this! All runway crew, report to your stations immediately! Cooper Formation will be first to deploy."
Gerrel looked around as the ship readied for deployment, "I thought we were doing war games. Then I heard we're about to head into combat!"
"Everything is coming down from command so quickly. We need to get to the staff meeting on the bridge." They arrived at a main transport elevator and waited alongside a group of naval personnel; which included aviators still dressed in casual wear, runway crewmen in their color coordinated vests, and maintenance crewmen for the thousands of fighters, bombers, and drone aircrafts.
"Attention! Attention! Now hear this! FSS Myrmidon has departed from carrier docking port 2. Marine Taskforce Achilles is to report to hanger G-5 for debriefing."
The elevator arrived and the large double layer doors opened wide. Inside was Marine Admiral Paris, flanked by some of the other Fourth Fleet staff officers and a few Marine guards, dressed in standard operations uniform.
"Admirals! The meeting is about to begin. Get in," he looked at the rest of them, "Sorry folks, elevator's taken."
Though they mumbled a bit, they knew what to do and kept moving. They scattered, hurrying to take auxiliary routes to their destinations. The elevator closed and took off, rushing to the bridge.
Paris looked to them, "I'm guessing this is a big change of pace to life on the Migrant Fleet, huh?"
"I would say the organization is far more formalized," remarked Gerrel, "The crew's quick rush to station is impressive."
Koris added on, "And to see so many onboard a single ship, each of them trained crewmen ready to preform. I'd say the real difference is the environment. Each ship back in the fleet is a home, not only to their crew but also to their own family and loved ones. These ships are strictly for war."
"They fight to keep their real home safe. These ships are an expression of our will to fight, to defend, and to liberate. I would imagine it is no different on a Turian vessel and what they stand for," remarked Paris, "They seem to be the only true might able to challenge us."
"Bah, they're no match for our combined forces, they couldn't even capture Admiral Vali!" replied Gerrel with a boost.
"Yet they arrested you without a fight on Felsian," Koris chuckled at the memory, Gerrel grumbling all the while.
"Still, once we're done here, our position as the galactic power shall be affirmed to all."
"Attention! Attention! Now hear this! Make preparation for the docking of FSS Ithaca at docking port 2. Munitions crew report to docking port 2 to unload munitions ordinance. Marine Taskforce Odyssey, report to docking port 2 for boarding."
"Have you been debriefed about Fleet Admiral Valenzuela?" asked Paris.
"I believe so," replied Koris, "I believe we met her once shortly after First Contact."
Paris smiled, "Then prepare to be amazed by the woman that launched a thousand fighters. Her skills and tactics created the modern Terran Aviator Force."
"I am looking forward to seeing these aircraft carriers in action. From what I've been told, you can build several of those massive battle cruisers for one carrier," commented Gerrel.
Paris chuckled, "With what I been told of the galaxy's naval doctrine, we only need a few to take on the galaxy."
Koris then noticed two symbols on his chest on his operational uniform. One on the right was a red patch, spelling 'N7'. The other was a small pin with the symbol of the Blue Berets.
"Those markings…"
Paris looked down, smiling, "Oh yes. I was one of the founding members of the N7s. I served as a Blue Beret with the Ninth battalion on Earth during the Revival. That's how I met Admiral Valenzuela when she was a pilot." He then stopped smiling and sighed, "Sometimes I wish I had been able to stay with Colonel Bishop. Being wounded isn't a good excuse for a B7 to retreat. Even if I got my legs blown off."
"I see… Now you're Navy?"
He grinned again, "It's not every day you see someone whom has served in all three branches. The Army is still keeping the position of general open if I want to return, but, well… I have my reasons."
"Commodore Taylor, are the escorts for the Joseph Biden ready?" asked Valenzuela as she brought up the fleet formation on the holo table in her command bridge. She looked upon the flotilla gathered in Transwarp formation over the planet.
"Homestead and the Group B are ready, ma'am," answered Taylor over the comm from his ship.
She replied, as the other staff officers continued organizing data on the table, "Understood. Makajima, Donovan, what's the sit rep on Group A and C?"
The Rear Admiral swiped her holoscreen to the relevant information as Donovan brought up his screen.
"Chester Arthur has reported in, at full combat readiness," she answered.
"Stephen Colbert and Group C are radioing in, ready and awaiting orders," he answered.
"That's it. Operation Asari Steed is a go! Commsman, hail star base 20 and alert them to our departure. Have the Transwarp relay set for the Tesale system."
The Cooper took to the center of her escort of several dozen cruisers and frigates, cruising into the open space. Ahead of her was the formation of three hundred more ships, consisting of three more aircraft carriers and a Flagship for logistics and troop transport. At the far end of the horizon of Intai'sei, the flotilla was converging around a Transwarp conduit. As the ship made her way to join the flotilla, the remaining staff officers arrived on the bridge.
They all walked up and saluted her, "Fleet Admiral Valenzuela!"
She saluted back, "Operation Asari Steed is about to commence. To your stations." She turned to Paris and smiled, "And who do we have here?"
"Admiral Valenzuela, may I present your new staff members."
"Admiral Koris, Gerrel. I have heard much praise from Ambassador Ghirn." As Admiral Paris and the others walked over to the other command post to coordinate ship and Marine deployment, Koris and Gerrel reported to her. "Have you finished reading over the mission dossier?"
"Yes ma'am, but we are still not sure of this fleet formation. We're still not quite familiar with the concept of an aircraft carrier," replied Koris.
She crossed her arms and looked on, puzzled, "Really? A race on the run from its AI creation never had anything like dedicated carriers or battlestars before?"
"Excuse me, ma'am. But, battlestars?" asked Gerrel.
"Uh… Never mind. You wouldn't get the reference," She brought up a display of the Marie Cooper on the holo table. "Your race developed on a mostly desert world, correct? Mostly land?"
Koris responded, "Yes that's correct. Most species have home worlds with a greater landmass over ocean… Except the Hanar anyway."
"Well Earth, in spite its name, is more water than land," she explained. "The seas connected the planet. In our civilization's development, the nations that ruled the oceans, ruled the world! Once we had large battleships and cruisers that made the might of any superpower's navy. But when we discovered air power, it changed warfare. The sky was the great constant; to rule the heavens meant you ruled everything beneath it. Air dominance on land meant you could bring entire empires to their knees. Air dominance over the ocean meant you could bring the world truly under your control. It rendered all older forms of naval warfare obsolete." She knocked on the command table, then directed them to the massive viewport, the flotilla in sight, "Thus was the birth of the aircraft carrier. Those who ruled the skies ruled the seas. And those who ruled the seas… ruled the world."
"And this military doctrine applies in space?" asked Gerrel as he opened up his screen on the table.
She chuckled, "Space is like an ocean! The stars that we once used to traverse the waters, we now use once more. We, interstellar sailors, sail and fly on the once unreachable and infinite horizon, where the oceans meet the sky. We traverse the end, and also the beginning." She walked away from table, gesturing them to follow her. As they walked through the central walkway on the bridge, the bridge crew rushing about or manning the lines of consoles in the trenches beside them.
"This is the true might of the Terran Navy," she continued. "The Council fears our battle cruisers and our flagships. But all of those ships are just relics reflecting a time long since gone. Anyone that dares oppose us, I shall bring them to their knees as we swarm them like locusts!" She continued to stare out the viewport into the stars and sighed. "Wish I was a pilot again."
As they stared out of the viewport towards the stars, Admiral Paris walked over to them with a tablet in his hand.
"The XIII Marine Corps is ready to deploy, Admiral." he said as she turned around and read the data from the Marines for the landing force. Most were currently waiting on the heavy cruisers and carriers, their shuttles and larger troop transports awaiting the order, "My Trojans are ready to break through any wall and take the jewel that is Illium."
She gave only a murmur of acknowledgment as she looked at the report. "Yes, yes." she said, without much tone in her voice, "You said the opposite back in Athens…"
He groaned and sighed, "Please, Helen. Let's just be thankful that was a false positive and we walked away from that on good terms."
She smiled a bit in amusement, "We'll always have Athens, Hector..." She turned back to her new Quarian admirals, "Oh yes. Report to the command table, and coordinate the taskforce."
A bit confused, they walked back to the table, the other officers waiting for them to discuss the next step of the operation. As they took their position around the main central table, Koris and Gerrel looked back to the front, seeing the two admirals conversing in a more casual manner.
"They seem well acquainted," commented Koris.
Donavan responded as he continued typing on his screen, "One would hope as much between exes."
"Those two used to be married?" Gerrel looked back to them, then back to the table, "Why in the name of the ancestors would Command assign them to the same staff?"
"We're the Navy!" remarked Donavan, laughing as he shook his head, "My bet is that Donnelly wanted to see if drama would occur. Unfortunately for him, they work well together, so he left them here."
Koris thought about it, "If he got a laugh from it, keep them there. If they actually worked together, keep them there… Why does the head Admiralty make such irrational choices?"
"We're humans," answered Makajima with a grin, "When you're a race that can go insane just by staring at the void, and have a fleet with nothing to do, you keep yourself entertained."
"Oh, that's splendid," sighed Gerrel.
"That reminds me! I heard about what happen between you and Admiral Hackett, Vice Admiral," said Donavan, "Quarians may be more physical than us chimps, but you simple don't win a fight against a man that killed a Nazi storm trooper with his bare, fifteen-year-old hands."
He huffed at the thought, crossing his arms, "I didn't like the way he was looking at Shala."
Koris sighed, "That would explain why Donnelly was enjoying himself during that formal banquet."
Carrier Group V arrived, and joined up at the center of the flotilla as they took position. Venezuela joined up with her immediate staff and gave the signal to open the fold in space. Across each ship, the crew of each one was alerted to the jump. Admiral Donavan opened the ship wide comms; a loud whistle rang out across the ship.
"Attention, Attention! Now hear this! All crew to Transwarp jump stations. Commencing jump is ten seconds!"
Valenzuela turned back up to her helmsman in the elevated area of the bridge.
"Forward full!"
"Aye, aye! Forward, full impulse!" he said as he inputted the command onto the console that surrounded him, his eyes still staring straight at the viewport.
The Taskforce sailed towards the spatial distortion, a large Transwarp relay projecting the tear in space far behind it. In a sudden shift, they emerged as quickly as they entered, appearing over a small moon a million kilometers from Naxell, warping instantly to the other side of the galaxy. As the last ship signaled the successful passage through, the fold dissipated, leaving the flotilla in open space.
Makajima turned to Venezuela, "Admiral, Commander Melvin from astrometric has confirmed our location. The Tesale System, planet Naxell, 17th moon by Council charts."
"Thank you, Admiral. Gerrel, give me scans of the local area. Intelligence reports say the remains of the Council Defense Fleet are fighting in this area."
Gerrel imputed a command on the holo screen in front of him over the table, bringing a map of the immediate system around the gas giant, stretching over thirty million kilometers.
"Right here," reported Gerrel to Venezuela. "Near the third moon… and what appears to have been the Naxell fueling depot."
She crossed her arms and looked on as the map began to update more frequently as the ensuing battle with the raider fleet continued, hyperspace scanners quickly scanned the area. "Right… Begin offensive! Prepare to deploy and intercept the raider fleet! Bowman wants us to save them before moving on to Illium."
Gerrel spoke out, having not expected an interception of raider forces outside the vicinity of Illium, as well as not being overly fond of the idea of saving the Council Fleet.
"Rescue them? We should press the assault now, then save them!"
"The President wants them saved!" responded Valenzuela, "And you will request next time to speak your opinion. Admittedly, it's clear we are doing this to win favor with the Council to get that seat. Once we show to the entire galaxy our decisive victory and more importantly, the manner through which we achieve it, I'm confident they'll cave in to our request. Someone has to protect them." She turned to Donovan. "Begin launch! They won't see us coming, so let's do this by the book! I want this, 'Matriarch' Zamora, to know very well who is saving their asses."
"Yes, ma'am!"
And with a press of his screen, the order to attack was sent.
Part 2:
The Fourth Fleet - Tesale System
Fourth Day of Diplomatic Talks; Liberty Day
July 4, 2167; 00:00:00 UTC
Awaiting the final order to deploy, the thousand fighters and bombers in each carrier began procedures to launch.
The modern Terran aircraft carrier was the pinnacle of the Navy's tactical capabilities. The initial rush into space during the early twenty-second century saw man initially go through centuries' worth of naval deployment all over again but in space. It was sped up thanks to the continued mentality was that space was nothing more than a modern analogy for oceans. From small scout ships came the traditional standard of cruisers and large battle equipped vessels. While the end result, the carrier was foreseen well in advanced, the new challenges of space made both its development and use limited. The Revival soon gave the Terrans the planetary and in rare instances, spatial experience, to use them to their full potential. Since then, battle cruisers and Flagships were a strategic and symbolic form of naval power. But if they were to win any battle, any war, it would be through their aircraft carriers. To rule the infinite horizon, where the ocean meets the sky.
In the hangers underneath and above the main runway, aviator pilots and crew waited in their aircrafts as the flight deck crews finished prepping. All of them were fully suited for both the minimal atmosphere environment and the anti-gravity zone along the runway. Each fighter and its launch crew rested on the platform as it was raised or lowered on to the runway. Each wave of aircraft was locked onto the catapult launch system; they were more for guiding the aircrafts into place on the deck rather than for actually launching them. As they lined up, physical barriers rose to separate the fighter and bomber wave, each one a hundred meters from the other, as to avoid taking the blast exhaust from the wave in front of it.
For its main force, the flight deck was still the standard for launching aircrafts. On the main four flight decks inside the ship that spanned its entire length, squadrons of fighters and bombers took position to launch. Along the forward half were smaller flight decks that connected to the side of the ship. At the forward kilometer of the runway and the smaller side decks, the Terran's FG-20C Lighting fighters were up first. This 'Fighter-General' aircraft was the current generation of aerospace superiority fighters; with its titanium smooth swept wings, twin fusion aerospace ramjets, mark-IV plasma phaser cannons, and internal missile bay. Its manufacturer was QCI owned Mikoyan-Grumman, going by the name MiG-75 when the Terran Militia used prototypes during the Revival. For the carrier variant, they were the forward tips of the aerial spear, clearing the way for the bombers, or preventing counter attacks by other fighters.
Waiting at the middle and rear of the runway were the BC-5 Vulture carrier based bombers. Smaller than the older BG-40 Valkyrie general bomber used during the Revival, they operated more on the line of missile carriers. In waves, their long range, STL warp missiles could overwhelm cruisers with ease, or wreak havoc on fighter wings when ambushed. Physically, they followed the standard HF owned Lockheed-Northrop design of tactical aircrafts, and were only two and a half times larger than its fighter escort. While a STOL craft also, they used up the full runway, an important necessity in atmospheric launch, but a common practice in space launch.
Along the side of each carrier, the separate side hangars prepared for launch. Here, aircrafts were locked into place by docking clamps. A majority of them were drone aircraft, based off the old MiG-55; used offensively as cannon fodder to absorb fire for more precious planes, or to create a defensive plane around their home carrier. In some hangars were the carrier based Lockheed-Northrop FBC-24 Seagull fighter-bombers. Unlike the STOL FG-20, the 'Seagull' was a full VTOL aircraft, designed for seamless switches between space and atmospheric operations, and for quick landings and resupplying. While fighters followed a flexible, but clear attack plan of clearing away enemy aircraft and returning for squadron rotation, the Seagulls were operated on a 'threat priority' basis; squadrons moving about as needed to clear the area, or aid in strategic or tactical air to ship torpedoes, or ground strikes with its Type-II ODMM. Their pilots were usually young to allow for the longer flight time they would do in combat, led by a veteran from other air divisions.
On each control station along the ship's three-kilometer flight deck, each plane gave their signal for readiness as they took position on the deck. In the hangars above and below, planes for the next wave were being prepped by their flight crews while their pilots waited in the waiting rooms.
Across the flight deck, the signal lights flashed yellow, the flight deck crew for each wing running to the side. Finally, the order was received; the commanders in the overlooking control stations gave the green light. The fighters were off first, each wave's take off officer, or 'shooter', gave the final signal to launch to the pilots, before signaling to the next crew behind them that the runway was clear. Soon after, the bomber wings were away, one squadron after the other shooting out the front of the massive ship and into the void. When the last one shot through the flight deck and into the void, the light went to red as the next wave was raised or lowered down onto the deck, prepped and ready as their pilots rushed to man them. Finally, the drones and fighter-bombers were off, coordinated by the control towers lining the outside of the ship.
Valenzuela stood at the very forward of her bridge, looking on as thousands of planes left her ship and joined with the taskforce. A part of her wished to be leading the force that would demonstrate the true power of the Terrans to the galaxy. The old 'Sky Rebel' just had to contend that she was now the queen of her locust. She whispered a verse from an old song she once sang, but without any tune; more as a statement.
"We are the locust, a swarm, a blight. For the crop that is to be the Reaper's, we take for ourselves instead."
"This is Alpha-1, leading Cooper Formation. Bomber lead, please respond, over."
Several hundred kilometers behind the fighter formation, the commander leading the Vulture bomber wave from the Marie Cooper responded.
"This is Easy-1-Actual. Reading you loud and clear. Go ahead, over."
"Cooper reports the raider fleet is engaging Council forces over the designated first moon. Please confirm destination as local coordinate 8545.7579.1922. Over."
"Wilco, standby." After a short moment, as the vulture's hyperspace scanners updated, they responded, "Alpha-1, we have a match. Raider fleet is engaging Council at those coordinates. New intel from Cooper suggests four thousand ships of frigate size and above for the raiders."
"Roger, moving to coordinates. Cooper, formation is ready to warp on my mark."
Back at the ship, a flight control tower acknowledged. As the last arrived in formation for all the aircraft, they slowly turned twenty degrees around the edge of the moon, now pointed at the first moon twelve million kilometers away. They stayed in formation, a four-edged spear tip, with the fighters first, followed by the bombers as drones and fighter-bombers roamed about. They then jumped to warp and reappeared a hundred thousand kilometers away from the battle. Though they only saw a bit of light delayed flashes near the remnants of the fueling station, the remaining defense fleet of only a thousand rallied in one last effort to defend themselves against the overwhelming raider presence. While the fleet had since managed to overcome the raider's initial hacking, they were badly wounded and in a poor position.
Flying through the void at over Mach 40, the different formations maintained their approach trajectory, with Cooper formation coming in at the side of the engaging raider fleet. As they got closer to where individual ships could be made out from eye sight, a commanding fighter bomber radioed in, while flying next to Alpha-1 a few kilometers away.
"WASP, this is Zone. My scans reveal incoming fighters from the raiders," reported the ace veteran fighter to his colleague, using his old call sign.
"Roger, Zone. Easy, do you have confirmation?"
The bomber responded, "I have radar on them. Reading about a few hundred. Patching everyone to AWACS Athena."
"Copy. All fighters protect bomber and drone formation." With long range radar scans patched into every aircraft, Alpha could see the closest fifty on his helmet's HUD. With a quick press on his console, each fighter in his squadron was designated a target to begin their attack run as enemy fighter trajectory was displayed. "Zone, care to join?"
The pilot of the fighter-bomber laughed before responding, "I would love to go on your little Liberty Day barbecue; but I've got a squadron of rookies who are better off taking out a slow moving cruiser with their names on it. When they can hit that and the broad side of a barn with ODMMs, we'll join your party."
"Your loss, Zone. Happy hunting."
"Same to you, WASP. Hey, remember Mexico City? You make ace again, and drinks are on me!"
"Ha, I'll make the Locust Queen herself proud!"
The fighter-bombers veered off, the swarm of drones following them. Raider fighters took notice and began to pursue, but the main wave of fighters swooped in and began attacking; their first volley destroying the raiders quickly before drawing them away.
"It's Liberty Day, lads! Let's break out the fireworks. Alpha-1, Fox 2!"
As the space battle commenced, the first wave of carefully prepared drones, guided by special Vulture Bombers, began closing in on the main raider fleet, drawing them away from the battered Council Fleet. With minimal weaponry, they flooded the void surrounding them, drawing fire from the raiders. The raiders armed their GUARDIAN lasers and fired, destroying the drones.
But before the first wave finished, their long range, second market lasers overheated and jammed, just as planned. The remaining drones broke off as the heavily armed fighter-bombers began the second wave. The fighters unloaded their barrier bashing torpedoes, lighting them up as they finished their run, before pursuing any stray raider fighters in the void.
The next waves moved in, Vultures descending on the defenseless raider fleet.
"Beginning bombing run. Let's light up the barbecue! Easy-1, DRIVE!"
The Vultures moved in, each wave in formation with each bomber on the same grid plane. Their center bay pointing down and side bays facing up opened, and hundreds of missiles were launched out into the void. All of them sharply turned forward and raced to their targets as the first wave veered off to return to their carriers. The antiproton missiles made their mark, a few hundred missiles impacting each of the large cruisers manned by the raiders.
General Oraka stumbled his way onto the CIC of the Asari flagship. He had transferred his command of the Turian XXV Marine Corps sent to Illium to the ARS Kassandra when the relief force arrived; he had been forced from orbit when the raiders regained orbital control. The ship had already stopped shaking a few moments ago, but he had taken to drink beforehand, being a lightweight for a Turian.
He made his way to Zamora, who was staring out through her main screen at the raider fleet.
"Are you seeing this?" asked Zamora as she turned back to the buzzed general.
He walked over and shook his head before looking out as well. "They look like the fireflies on Sur'Kesh. There must be thousands of them."
"What sensors we have say they are small space crafts, small fighters, and tactical bombers." She walked over to her sensor officer, "Any more intel? Where are they all coming from?"
"Nothing, ma'am," she replied, "We're trying to get a signal lock on their IFF… Goddess, look at that!"
They turned to the viewport. Against the background of Naxell, over several thousand kilometers away, thousands of small dots whizzed about, Terran fighters swatting down raider fighters as the waves of Terran bombers launched their ordinance. They all stared on in a mix of awe and bewilderment as thousands of small dots emerged from the hundreds of slightly larger ones and all raced to the raider fleet. From that distance, the missiles merged to appear like one large mouth, reaching out to consume the raider fleet whole.
And quickly they did, each of the thousands of missiles 'bit down' and hit their target. The Council commanders were nearly blinded by the bright spectacle; hundreds of thousands of small explosions filled the void, each one like a firecracker from that distance that formed into large flash of continuing light. For a moment, the screen dimmed to filter the light. When they looked back, the raider fleet was gone, with further bomber waves making their attack runs on the remnants.
The sensor officer turned to her screen, noticing something new on their sensors. Before she could point it out, they all saw what it was on screen. From the nearby moon close to the one they were in orbit of, the might of the Terran Navy appeared between them, a small fleet of escort ships encircled the large aircraft carriers.
As the aircrafts began returning, the officer reported.
"Ma'am! We have confirmation! It's Terran!"
"Terran? What are they doing here?!" asked Oraka.
"They must be a dedicated mobile aircraft base," said Zamora. "I'm not questioning it. Better to be receiving their good side, unlike Lidanya."
Oraka shook his head to clear his mind, "I must be seeing things. I've never heard of such a use for a ship that size just as a carrier of sorts."
From around the moon, the Taskforce turned about and jumped to join the main aircraft formations. The first formation began their return, fighters and bombers lining up behind the carriers to land with the special docking system, as fighter-bombers and drones slowed to a crawl along the side hangars and latched onto their docking clamps. Outside, the carriers' escorts moved in to rid the remaining raider fleet, now utterly in shambles. Back in the carriers, the next wave forward along the runway were getting ready, this time for atmospheric conditions.
On the bridge, Koris and Gerrel looked on in wonder at the human's unique weapon of war. From this one vessel, they unleashed swarms of strike craft in never before seen numbers and use. Together, they saw how they equated to the firepower of a fleet of dreadnoughts.
"Admiral, no more hostiles are being detected in the immediate vicinity," reported Donavan.
She began walking towards the front of her bridge, staring out at the viewport as she signaled back to them, "Hail the leading Council ship."
In a short moment, the Council Fleet Commander appeared on screen. "Terran force, this is Matriarch Zemora, of the Citadel Council Terminus Fleet."
She stared up at the screen and smiled, "Matriarch. I am Fleet Admiral Venezuela of the Fourth Fleet of the Terran Navy. We are here to aid and assist. Do you require immediate assistance?"
"You really are those Terrans… Our remaining ships have sustained heavy damage. We need medical attention and some of our ships need to be evacuated."
"Copy that. I'm sending ships to begin aid. Have your officers coordinated with mine on this frequency. Fourth Fleet out." She ended the call and brought up a list of ship for the assault.
"Koris, what's the status of the main force?"
Koris brought up the list as well, "Minimal loss on the aircrafts. The first two waves are returning to refuel and rearm. Third wave ready to deploy."
Venezuela nodded, "Good. Send our escort to aid the Council Fleet." She looked back to the rear of her bridge, where the Marine officers and helmsman were. "Helmsman, lay in a course for Illium. Paris, ready the liberation force. We take Illium today!"
Paris yelled out in confirmation, "Yes ma'am!" He turned to his own staff, "Begin coordination. We're leading the way!"
Venezuela returned to the table and opened the 3D map of the solar system. Arrows pointed from the flotilla to Illium, as the next waves prepared to make the short warp jump to the planet. The main helmsman then alerted her that the ship and its own escorts were ready to make the jump as well to Illium.
"On your mark, Admiral."
She signaled to him, "Engage!"
Part 3:
Captain Mitchell of Lima Squad - Nos Astra
Liberty Day
July 4, 2167 05:00:00 UTC
The skyline was full of flak as Terran fighters raced through the skylines of the colony capital of Nos Astra. As far as the eye could see, the once iconic buildings at the heart of the financial center of the galaxy were in flames. Across the rooftops and balconies of these monuments to Laissez-Faire Capitalism, the greedy and opportunistic Terminus raiders battled against the first wave of the Terran Marines; who, for the most part, were not quite sure whether they themselves were technically a socialist or a capitalist society.
Inside a shuttle of the second wave of Taskforce Achilles, the newly promoted Captain Mitchell stood there, holding onto a railing as he observed the skyline. With him was his new squad, Lima, fresh from their tour during the Skyllian Blitz. He then looked down at his new armor, the latest HK Mark X power armor with the iconic red 'N7' patch on his right chest. He felt proud to wear the title of N7 as one of the finest Marines Terra had to offer. But he knew that his new status was more of a political move. If anything, even if he did think he earned it, he knew the price to get it was too great.
He turned back and sat down with his new squad. "So… you're a Marine?" asked Mitchell to an accompanying Quarian Marine sitting across from him.
"Yes, sir! The finest the Migrant Fleet had to offer," responded Donn, wearing his new suit, fitted with custom Marine armor. The shuttle shook as it raced through more flak from the skyscrapers of Nos Astra.
"That's good. Let's see how you fight. Have you familiarized yourself with the Lancer?"
Donn chuckled, "Of course. My family comes from a long line of Marines, and also weapons manufacturers. This is a nice rifle and all, but if you never fired a Reeger, well…" He un-holstered his Widow Rifle. "Then you've never really fired a gun before."
Mitchell smiled, "Sounds impressive. When we're done wiping these pirates and slavers clean off this planet, I would love to give that thing a try."
"You have a deal."
Mitchell turned to the rest of his squad, "Lima, on me!"
Quickly, the entire squad turned to give their attention to their new commanding officer.
"Good. Right now, we are en route to the Nos Astra Stock Exchange, twenty clicks from here. Our mission is to recover a Council VIP and bring her back to safety."
"A Council VIP?" asked Lieutenant Tamarine, his new XO.
"This comes from Admiral Paris himself. Intel suggests she is an essential figure to the 'Asari', so saving whoever she is is of the upmost importance."
"Must be a high ranking Matriarch," commented Donn, "They have a lot of influence back on Thessia… that's their home world, by the way."
Mitchel smirked, then smiled a bit as he shook his head, "Since we're saving their world for them, we might as well go the extra mile." He then shouted out, "The President wants that seat on the Council! Who is going to get it for him?"
"The Marines!" They all shouted in unison.
"And why are we gonna get him that seat?!"
"Because he's Navy and owns our asses!" They answered with self-deprecating amusement.
"Ooorah!"
The shuttle continued through the city lines. A raider gunship approached from below, attempting to shoot down the formation of shuttles. Quickly though, a Terran fighter passed by, gunning down the chopper as it flew away, a massive gust of afterburner thrust shaking them about. As more gunships came around from a nearby skyscraper, the shuttles and their Marines took action themselves. Each broke off from the convoy, each gunship then breaking off from their formation to pursue in turn.
Lima squad locked into place as Mitchell manned the sideboard machine gun, mag locking his boots to the floor as Reeger and Tamerine having also done the same, aiming their Widow and Lancer respectively. The shuttle kept banking right, presenting its right broadside as the three fired out. The pursuing gunship followed, firing its own forward guns, but was unable to hit due to the zigzag pattern of the shuttle. The raider shuttle fired off its own missiles, but a combination of Terran flares and machine gun fire made short work of them. Approaching a cluster of buildings blocking their way, the shuttle's pilot took action through a small bypass tunnel, the gunship in pursuit.
Zigzagging through the tunnels, the shuttle emerged ahead first at one of the ends, but the gunship was still close behind. With what short time they had, the shuttle turned to present its armed broadside, the three of them aimed out.
"Just need one shot…"
Donn took aim, the gunship dead ahead as it rushed the last segment of the tunnel to the exit. Mitchell and Tamerine continued firing, their rounds bouncing off the barrier and armor of the gunship. Donn fired off once, missing and hitting a gas pipe deep in the tunnel. He hit his rifle to eject the heat sink and quickly went to fire again. He took aim and fired, but the gunship swerved as it fired another missile. The hypersonic round hit the missile, setting off both the missile and the gas in the tunnel, a massive backup explosion raced to the exit as fast as the gunship, tailing it by only meters.
"Come on, come on!" Donn furious over his two misses as he bashed the next heat sink in.
He took aim, the gunship just seconds from the exit. Pulling the trigger, a sand grain round coursed through the mass effect ejection system, the round coming out at over two-thirds the speed of light. In nano-seconds, the round burned through the air and finally made contact with the cockpit, bursting through the glass, before continuing through into the rest of the gunship.
In the half second it took for him to register the pull of his own finger, the gunship burst into flames as it passed out of the tunnel. The shuttle pulled up, dodging first of the flaming wreck as it fell into the depths of the city, then the explosion from the tunnel; pulling away altogether as it moved on to its original destination.
"Ha! What do you humans call it? 'Nailed Lady Charm three times'?"
Mitchell turned to him, before bursting out laughing, "With a rifle like that, you can call it whatever you want!"
Part 4:
Spectre Vasir and Captain Mitchell - Azure Hotel
July 4, 2167 06:00:00 UTC
"Get out here and help me!"
On a balcony overlooked by the Azure Hotel, Spectre Vasir was deadlocked in a battle with raider forces as they fought their way to fall back from the advancing Terran forces. With her elite biotics and martial arts, she fought off waves of low skilled raiders as the Turian Marine squad that was accompanying her took cover inside the hotel, taking shots at the raiders outside.
"Are you crazy? Get the hell to cover!" yelled the commander of the Marines.
"You are fucking Havoc Marines!" A raider charged at her, a rifle with an omni-blade on it, but she quickly side stepped him; elbowing him first in the chest to stun him, then next bashed his arm to grab the rifle, and finishing up with a quick kick to the knee to knock him down before she stabbed him with his own rifle. "Get out of that whore house and fight!"
"We are Turian Marines, not fucking idiots!" he stayed down behind cover under the broken windows as he directed his squad to spread out and assist. "Damn Spectres and their inability to comprehend the concept of cover!"
Above, the convoy regrouped and continued on to their objective. As they passed by, a bright blue flash caught the attention of Mitchell as he looked out of the shuttle.
"Is that one of their Kinetics?" asked Mitchell.
Donn looked over, using his new HUD to zoom in on the battle on the balcony below, "Well, would you look at that? The famed Spectre Tele Vasir."
"Spectre? They're the Council secret agents, right?" asked Tamerine.
"She's well-known among us Quarians. She was assigned originally to kill Admiral Vali after he destroyed Triginta Petra. Instead, my father helped him escape by tricking her into destroying an asteroid being mined by the Elcor under the pretext they were secretly helping us. Needless to say, when there was no proof, the Council was not happy."
"I see. Then there is only one option…"
The pilot turned back and grunted, "You're gonna show off, aren't you?"
"Wait, she is a five-hundred-year-old Spectre!" exclaimed Donn.
"And I'm a Terran. It equals out. Collins, Screamin' Eagle!"
He sighed, but gave a thumbs-up in acknowledgement. The shuttle veered off from the rest and climbed up, until it was a few hundred meters above. For a brief moment, it rolled on its side, the open shuttle hatch facing down. With everyone else mag locked in place, Mitchell unlocked and immediately kicked off from the edge of the shuttle, entering a kinetic charge straight down to the balcony.
In that second, his world slowed to a crawl as time relative to him slowed down. The battlefield was still as he came down and was a bit breathtaking, but he took only that second to take it in before he looked back down at his target. As he approached the ground, there were two raiders below him in position to charge at Vasir. He raised his arm and kinetically charged his fist.
In that same second, Vasir looked up for a moment, noticing the shuttle flying by, before she saw the blue flash of a biotic charge. Before she could level her head, Mitchell left his charge and unleashed a massive Nova blast, blasting the surrounding raiders away as it cushioned his own fall, a small crater of tiles and concrete where he had landed. He quickly rose as the raiders changed targets to him.
As Vasir stood there, stunned by what just happed, Mitchell sprang into action. He leveled his rifle and fired, mowing down raiders at near point blank with his Lancer. One raider with an omni-blade got close and Mitchell held his rifle up to block, the rifle was cut in half by his swing. Mitchell dropped it and quickly took out a combat knife, stabbing him behind the neck before he could recover. He pulled out and turned back to three more raiders. He threw his knife at one with extra kinetic force, before pulling out his shotgun from behind and blasting away at the other two, shredding them with high kinetic tungsten-lead BBs.
A raider behind him managed to sneak up and jumped on him, trying to lock his head with his arms. Before he could though, Mitchell shook him off and deployed his custom modified omni-blade, stabbing him where he stood as he leveled his shotgun and fired at the remaining raiders on the balcony.
As he finished up and turned to Vasir, he quickly reacted and pulled out his sidearm, taking aim at her. She snapped out and raised a barrier, but he fired first. She closed her eyes for a moment, before realizing she wasn't hit. Seeing him lower his pistol, she turned back, noticing a raider right behind her with his pistol aimed at the back of her head. With a burning round in his forehead, he fell to the ground, Vasir quickly moved aside. She turned back to him as he was slowly walking backwards to the edge of the balcony.
"You're welcome!"
He gave her a two-finger salute and at the very edge, he jumped backwards and off the balcony. With the accompanying Marines coming out, they and Vasir all rushed to the edge, only to be suddenly knocked down by the blast of a racing shuttle shooting up into the air.
As she grumbled, slowly becoming angry, the commander looked up and spoke what was on everyone's mind.
"These Terran pyjacks are insane!"
Part 5:
Commander Roosa and Alpha Squad - Nos Astra
July 4, 2167 08:00:00 UTC
"Another ruined holiday…" Jenkins sighed as he and Alpha squad sat in the shuttle as it made its way through the city, "I mean we missed the last one. I was hoping to catch this one. I'm sure as hell not getting Resiliency Day off."
"Liberty Day, huh? These wars always pick a good day to begin," said Roosa as he copiloted the shuttle, escorting them to their destination.
"I don't care what those politicians call it. It's not 'Liberty Day' it's Independence Day! It's a cultural holiday. I had planned on going back to Eden Prime. Spend some time with the kids, maybe sleep in."
"Some shore leave would be nice. Visit some nice places and learn the meaning and significance of the holiday in order to better understand the point of it all."
"Why is everything a field trip to the museum with you… Oh God. If that's why we went into town on Elysium, I'm going to be pissed."
Roosa looked back, "Excuse me?"
Jenkins rolled his eyes, "I'm going to be pissed… sir!"
"Copy that, Sarge."
The shuttle continued, holding Alpha squad. They were part of Taskforce Odyssey, the detachment meant for using the beachhead established by Achilles to hold the city. As the second main wave of the assault on the capital, they had met overall less resistance. The sky now filled with Terran shuttles and fighter-bombers, as fighters roamed the skyline. Numerous passed by the shuttle as they switched between the different areas of the city, providing support as needed.
On radio, Roosa saw a communications notice on his screen. He answered, "This is Virgil. Come in, over."
"This is Lima. We have a VIP, secured. Requesting evac at initial drop zone."
"Copy, Lima. We are en route. Out."
Captain Mitchell and Matriarch Aethyta
Eternity Lounge
An hour earlier…
As they neared their target, the shuttles began to disband, flying to their main targets. Lima Squad continued, approaching the main grounds of the Nos Astra Exchange. Awaiting final support, Mitchell manned the side machine gun, spraying down the open-air trade floor, pinning the raiders, as their shuttle got closer to the balcony. A fighter-bomber than arrived at their position, switching to vertical thrust as it took aim with its phaser cannons. As the shuttle landed, the fighter-bomber fired, shredding the trading floor and the raiders on it to pieces as it left a trail of destruction and burn marks. It quickly took off and made its way to other calls.
They jumped off, rushing for cover behind a few trading consoles. More raiders rushed out from inside to hold off the Terrans. The Marines stayed in order and picked their shots, firing cleanly into the raiders, which consisted of varying aliens from Batarian to Turian, and even a Krogan. While their Lancers shredded through the more humanoid aliens, the Krogan remained un-phased by the squad's suppressing fire. He charged at Mitchell, who had taken point.
Mitchell saw it coming and prepared to counter. Too close for a charge, he ran right back at him, but then dropped to the floor and slid underneath as he got close to the Krogan. Sliding right between the Krogan's legs, Mitchell pivoted, channeling a kinetic kick right up into the charging Krogan. The force propelled the Krogan upwards and into the air. He kept flying, going over the squad and over the balcony behind them, down into the city below.
"Pretty sure he can't fly," he muttered before ordering the squad forward, kinetically charging another raider before he stabbed him with his war-prized omnitool.
"Your species can really wield strong biotics," said Donn as he caught up and fired a clean shot off at a raider on a nearby balcony. They took cover at another console, "I doubt Vasir could have imagined seeing that from a human."
Mitchell looked over and laid down suppressing fire to cover his Marine's advance, "And to think I'm only the second generation of Kinetics."
"The Admiralty said your race amazed them. You remind me of my father, when he was a young biotic." He poked out of cover, shooting down a charging Turian. "Got anything else?"
"Did we mention we have advanced artificial intelligence?" said Mitchell, chuckling afterwards as he laid suppressing fire near the entrance to Eternity.
"Oh don't remind me. It was bad enough he thought he was friends with a Geth in his youth."
The raiders regrouped across the trading floor, the Marines quickly putting the pressure on them. As they advanced on them, they received a local radio signal on their watches. Mitchell ducked under cover and answered it, "This is Terran Captain Mitchell of Lima squad. Come in, over."
Static came in, but the watch quickly readjusted it into something audible, "..elp… der fire from… to Eternity Lounge…"
"What was the voice saying?" asked Tamarine as she ran up to them.
"I think someone needs help. Where's Eternity Lounge?" asked Mitchell.
Donn pointed out, "Right there, where the raiders are holding up."
He shook his head, "Ah damn. Squad! Move up and take that entrance!"
They moved up, laying down fire as they picked off the rest of the raiders and made their way to the entrance. Half the squad gathered near the door as the other half kept an eye on the surrounding balcony. Mitchell gave the signal, hacking the door open and throwing in a grenade. As soon as it detonated, they rushed in, gunning down any raider still standing. They climbed up the stairs, rounded a corner, and backed down into a lobby. They auto-translated and read the sign, indicating the entrance to the main area proper.
"Ok, prepare for a rescue insertion. Check your shots. Civilians may be inside," instructed Mitchell as they got closer to the door.
He gave a short count, then held his palm on the touchscreen interface as his watch did the hacking. The door then opened up ever so slightly. When he finished, he threw in a smoke grenade. When it exploded, the door opened and they rushed in, their HUD displaying infrared signatures. Tamarine quickly called in, five confirmed raiders in the lounge, along with other body signatures. The squad took aim and fired. They quickly went down, but Mitchell noticed quickly that something was wrong. All the raiders were shot in the back. He looked back up in front of him, seeing something in the grey smoke. Before he could raise his rifle, a biotic thrust came right at him.
He was shoved to the ground. As the others tried to react and figure out what was happening, the assailant ran through the smoke and at Mitchell. As he looked up, the assailant jumped on top of him and pinned him to the ground. Through the smoke, he could see as the assailant raised her fist and gave off a biotic glow. As the smoke faded, she became visible to everyone, apparently ready to crush Mitchell's head.
But she had stopped her assault, having noticed the pistol Mitchell had placed under her chin. As they raised their rifles at her, she then recognized who they were and lowered her biotics. With her hands opened, she stood up and backed away from him. He stood up and instructed his squad to lower their arms.
"You're not raiders." she said as she walked up to Mitchell.
He shook his head to refocus his mind, "No, I'm Captain Mitchell, a Terran Marine."
"Aethyta, I'm the bartender here. Oh, and uh, sorry about almost crushing your head in. Been held up here for the last day."
"Well, just be careful whom you try to crush," He stretched his neck, "Wait? Aethyta? As in Matriarch Aethyta?"
She was surprised for a moment at being called that, especially by a race that had barely made contact with the Asari. "Why're you asking?"
"My mission was to head to the Exchange and save you from the raiders, before evacuating you to our fleet in orbit."
"Save me?"
"You have been classified by our intelligence as a VIP."
"Oh, I see. Save my ass and you get points toward getting that seat. Your intel is faulty," she chuckled, "But I appreciate the compliment. It's nice being wanted."
Mitchell continued, "Whether or not you're important, we are here to save you. It was a good thing you sent out that message."
"Me? No. It was one of those people over there, behind the counter."
Mitchell and Tamarine walked over to the bar as Mitchell instructed whoever was there to get up. After a pause, an Asari and a Quarian stood up behind the counter. They walked around the bar to them.
"You heard our distress call?" asked the Quarian.
"Yes," responded Donn as he hurried over to them, "Lieutenant Donn'Reeger vas Homestead. This is our squad leader, Captain Mitchell."
"A Reeger and a Terran. We got lucky," said the Asari as she exhaled in relief.
"And who are you?" asked Mitchell.
The Quarian responded, "She is my contract broker."
"Contract broker? What's that?" asked Mitchell.
Donn replied, "She brokers the contracts for indentured servants. Indentured servitude is legal here on Illium."
Mitchell quickly raised his rifle, the rest of the human squad quickly raising theirs with him, aiming at the Asari broker. The Asari quickly jumped back behind the bar as Donn grabbed Mitchell's rifle, forcing him to lower it.
"By the ancestors, what are you doing?" asked Donn as he let go of the rifle.
"Indentured servant broker my ass, she's a damn slaver!"
He looked to Mitchell, then the rest of them, "And that constitutes summary execution?"
"I slaughtered half of the Hegemony government on a damn whim! Here, I have justification!"
"It's nothing like slavery," said the Quarian. "If she didn't pay my debt, I could be in debtors' prison or some executive could have me killed."
Donn quickly tried to bury the issue. He feared the moniker 'Butcher of Torfan' would actually come out, "Captain Mitchell, we can debate the morality of this another time. We need to get going."
Mitchell thought of it for a moment, before calling his squad off, "Damn it, fine. Tamarine, what's our next objective?"
"We need to secure the skycar lot from the raiders so Alpha and Delta squad can land and secure the skyscraper. They are our evac as well."
"Ok then. Radio them in, Lieutenant. Squad, check your gear and head out."
The Asari poked back out from the bar counter, "What about us? We can't stay here?"
Mitchell thought about it for a moment, looking at them. He reloaded his rifle, "Fine then. Stay low and follow us, we can evacuate you on one of Alpha's shuttles. When you're safe, she's free, understood?"
"Yes, yes! I'll rip up her contract."
"Good. Matriarch, we must move. Are you still fit?"
"Fit? I held this damn bar from over 30 hours. The only difference between that and overtime is I'm not getting paid."
"I'll take that as a yes. Lima, move out!"
Part 6:
The Hero and the Butcher
Nos Astra Exchange Transit
July 4, 2167 08:10:00 UTC
As Alpha squad and the shuttle Virgil approached the skycar lot of the Nos Astra Stock Exchange's taxi port, Lima squad arrived at the landing zone and engaged the raiders. The shuttle flew over and the squad opened up the hatch, firing at the raiders as they were pushed to the edge by Lima.
After they took out the last raider on the lot, the shuttle landed, allowing Alpha to depart as they hurried to take point for Lima. Lima regrouped with them as they brought over the civilians they had rescued earlier to the shuttle. As Mitchell helped them aboard, he noticed Jenkins as he got off.
"Sergeant Jenkins. I didn't expect to see you here!" he said, pleasantly surprised.
They shook hands. "Likewise to you too, sir. They made you a captain, huh?"
He gave a light chuckle, "Yah… they did." He became a bit stoic as he looked down at his chest plate.
"After taking out the Hegemony Chairman, you've earned that symbol, Captain Mitchell." From the cockpit of the shuttle, Roosa overheard.
"If that's what they think… I'll have to live up to it then," Mitchell looked up, seeing Roosa stepping out of the cockpit.
"Dear God, Mitchell?"
He opened his eyes wide, smiling with amazement, "Holy crap! Roosa? Is that you? I didn't think they'd actually send the Hero of Elysium over here. Have you been taking good care of Jenkins?"
"What the hell are you doing here? I'd heard they sent you to a damn tribunal!"
Mitchell grinned and laughed a bit, "They 'awarded' me with this!" He pointed at his chest plate and the red 'N7' symbol stamped on it, "Not as flashy as your 'Star of Terra', but it'll—"
Before he could finish, Roosa jumped out of the shuttle and tackled him onto the skycar lot balcony. As they both got back up, Roosa proceeded to punch him several times across the face before Mitchell kinetically shoved him off of him. They both stood there, as Mitchell wiped the blood from his mouth.
"Damn Roosa. You still angry over what happen back on Earth?" he asked, chuckling afterwards as he spit some blood out.
Roosa began to walk towards him, but Jenkins and Donn quickly held him back. He looked to Jenkins.
"Jenkins, how the hell do you know him?" asked Roosa as he struggled to get free.
"I was transferred to his squad during the war. After what happen on Torfan, I was transferred back to the Kitty Hawk," replied Jenkins.
"Damn you Mitchell, you could have gotten one of my men killed! I don't know why they even allow the Butcher of Torfan to lead another squad."
Mitchell quickly ran up and punched him across the face. Jenkins and Donn stepped out of the way as Roosa fell back. "Don't you call me the Butcher of Torfan!"
Roosa quickly got back up and threw an upper jab at Mitchell, "People died because of you! The Butcher of Torfan, the Butcher of Alameda! Why they let you graduate from the academy is beyond me!"
Mitchell blocked Roosa's punches, countering it with his own to the jaw. But Roosa quickly dodged his next, sliding parallel to his arm and elbowed him in the face. Mitchell stumbled back a bit, both of them wiping the blood off their faces.
"It was your own damn fault why I had to lead those squad of cadets! It was all to save you."
Mitchell launched a couple of jabs, which Roosa quickly dodged. "It was your fault I got mixed up with those damn street thugs you used to be with." Mitchell landed a solid one to Roosa's stomach. He walked back, cringing in pain.
"Well I'm sorry I was some damn street urchin while you were a high class spacer with a family!"
As they continued fighting, another group of raiders entered the port, guns blazing as the two squads rushed to cover and fought back, the shuttle quickly leaving. Around them, the raiders from the other parts of the exchange converged, ready to drive the Terrans out and over. But the Hero and the Butcher paid them no mind.
Behind the Terran line, Roosa ran back in, tackling Mitchell to the ground. Mitchell this time threw a shockwave, launching Roosa off of him. As he lay on the floor, Mitchell quickly got back up, charging at him as he readied a Nova punch. But Roosa took note and rolled back up to one knee. He raised his watch and quickly deploying a solid holo-shield. Mitchell leapt up and punched down onto the shield; the combined energy from the kinetic punch and the feedback from the shield created an explosion, knocking both of them back to opposite sides of the lot. The Marines took cover from the blast, the bright flash halting the raiders' advancement. As Roosa and Mitchell lay there, Jenkins and Tamerine rallied their squads to finish off the rest of them.
Mitchell regained his senses first, standing back up first as he brushed off debris from his armor and hair. Looking down at the other end of the port, Roosa did the same, staring him down, eyes locked with rage. One raider charged up at Mitchell. He responded by simply holding his fist at him, confusing the raider for a moment as he stood next to him, before he was suddenly impaled on Mitchell's omni-blade. At the other end, a raider also charged at Roosa. This time, Roosa quickly and elegantly disabled the raider, a precision kick to his leg, then a punch to his chest, before catching the falling raider. Roosa then grabbed onto his face with his hand, before activating his watch. He held him still as he burned his facemask, then his face clean off.
They both yelled out and began running at each other, omni-blade and flaming hand at the ready. But as they came to close to clashing at the center of the lot, they both heard a shout from the edge of the port.
"Hey!"
Everyone looked out to the skyline, seeing another shuttle quickly landing as the first shuttle took off. Its hatch was already open, as the commanding officer hung on to a side rail while the shuttle slowly landed. Once the shuttle touched the ground, Delta squad departed and took point, their commander the last to get off. He ran towards Roosa and Mitchell, removing his helmet as both of them saluted him.
"Commander, sir!" said both men, standing at attention.
"What the hell is going on over here?" yelled Anderson, as he threw his helmet to the ground in utter frustration. "Half of the damn invasion force can see you two fighting each other!"
"Sir! I assume all responsibility for this unjustifiable brawl," answered Mitchell.
Roosa quickly countered. "No, sir. This was my fault. I was the one who attacked Captain Mitchell, sir."
"Sir, I dispute the Lieutenant Commander's claim. I was the one who provoked him."
"I don't care. You're both done! Now get your candy-asses on the shuttle. Now!"
Roosa and Mitchell saluted Anderson before climbing on board the shuttle, avoiding looking at each other. He ordered his second in command to lead the squad on ahead. He looked on to Lima squad, now without their leading officer.
"Who's the highest ranking officer here?" asked Anderson.
Tamerine responded, "Lieutenant First Class Tamerine, sir!"
"You're now leading Lima. Your evac is gone. Secure the building with Delta." He pointed over to Jenkins, "Sergeant, take Alpha and take point for them."
"Yes, sir. Squad, move out!"
The two squads left, following Delta as they left. Anderson climbed aboard the shuttle, directing the pilot to head directly for the Marie Cooper.
Part 7:
President Bowman and Commander Anderson - FSS Sagan's Voyage
End of the Fourth Day of Diplomatic Contact and Liberty Day
July 4, 2167 18:00:00 UTC
"I think you'll look good in charcoal," said D'gona on the main screen in Bowman's quarters.
"I don't know Dorsi, a traditional look would seem more appropriate, a light black maybe…" said Bowman as he went through a small closet overlooked by the screen. "What tie should I wear?"
She giggled a bit, "Navy blue suits you best. Just like your old uniform."
He stopped and looked up, thinking about his time, "I haven't worn that thing in years. It was good to be a captain. Things get complicated when you're an admiral."
"Have you ever considered returning to duty after you're done with your presidency? You're only seventy."
Bowman grabbed some ties, comparing them. "I don't know. Thirty years ago, reaching your sixties was when you traditionally retired to elder life. I'm still considered to be in my 'youth'... I'm older than my father."
"I still find it amazing how your race tries to push its age limit. An Asari isn't considered a mature adult till early hundreds."
"We grow older and older, and at the same time we mature faster and faster. Each generation is eager to take on the galaxy earlier and earlier… What about this tie?"
Off screen, Bowman's beagle climbed up on Dorsi's lap, barking into the camera on her end.
"I think Aldrin here likes it," she said, giggling some more, "So it was some young irrational man who saved me then?"
"They wanted the son of the inventor of the modern hyperdrive to captain their first hyperdrive ship. Before I knew it, they made me a commander and threw me into space."
"So I can thank your race's rush into space for my rescue?"
"You could thank the fact we, in our infinite impatience, go out to thrust greatness onto ourselves rather than wait for it. The Council will certainly say so when I meet them today." He picked up a tie and held it over to the screen, "How about this?"
Aldrin growled at the tie, then started barking. D'gona quickly shushed at him, scratching the back of his ear to calm him down. She had taken a liking to the canine, as loyal and aggressive as a Varen, but much softer to handle. Bowman took the cue it wasn't right. As he grabbed another, an alert appeared on his desk's computer. He checked it, seeing it was an urgent message from Admiral Venezuela.
"I'm sorry Dorsi, but the nation calls. We still good for next week?" said Bowman as he skimmed the initial report.
"Of course, dear. Say goodbye, Aldrin."
He barked, Bowman saying his farewell, "And remember, no cheese for him."
Bowman said goodbye and turned off the screen. He dimmed the room as he activated the holo projectors, taking a seat at his desk. A comm link was quickly established as Fleet Admiral Venezuela appeared in front of his desk.
"Mr. President!" she said, saluting him.
He stood up to salute her, before sitting back down, "Admiral. Your report?"
"The raider fleet and their ground invasion has been completely neutralized, sir. Illium is completely under our control."
He nodded, "Good work, Admiral. Though I already read your report a few hours ago. Is there a reason to why you wished to direct this to me personally?"
"Sir, I feel I must bring to your attention a disciplinary hearing involving a fight between two soldiers during the liberation of Illium."
"My apologies, Admiral, but I don't see why that should head directly up to me."
"Well sir, the incident was between two rather high profile individuals. Navy Lieutenant Commander Perseus Roosa and Marine Captain Reginald Mitchell."
Those names suddenly registered in his mind and he rushed to pick up a tablet on his desk to read more about it, "The Hero and the Butcher? That isn't good. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. We can't risk having them publicly disgraced with a court martial."
"Excuse me, sir, but standard procedure is to do just that."
"Roosa is why the recruitment lines are long, and Mitchell is why every rebel and captured leader fears our military. This war was won in the propaganda room as much as on the battlefield. It is as political as it is strategic."
She nodded, "Yes, sir. Understood."
"Who reported this incident anyway?"
"N7 Commander David Anderson. Admiral Hackett sent him and his N7 squad my way to join the assault."
Bowman checked his tablet, giving Anderson's profile a quick look. He had wondered on occasion what happened to President Anderson's family, who avoided politics and any affiliation after the formation of the Federation.
"Ah yes. Distinguished service in the Marines, first of the N7 Marine special forces. Recommended for promotion by three of his former captains, four of his former Marine commanding officers, and Admiral Hackett himself after the raid… Yes, that can work."
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Thank you Admiral for bringing this to my attention. Could you please connect me directly with our 'VIPs' and Anderson?"
She nodded in acknowledgement, "Of course sir, patching you in now."
Her hologram disappeared as the signal was transferred to Anderson's quarters, and Roosa's and Mitchell's cells. Anderson was the first to appear, saluting the President. The others then appeared, both sitting in their respective cells. They quickly stood up, saluting the President as well.
"Ok then," said Bowman as he leaned back on his desk, "what the hell is going on?"
Anderson responded, "Sir, these two were supposed to secure a landing zone for my squad to land and begin our mission. When my shuttle arrived, these two were fighting each other, during the middle of a firefight with the raiders. There was blatant usage of Mitchell's kinetics and Roosa's military gear."
Bowman glanced at the report on his tablet, then turned back to him, "I see. What do you know about how the fight started?"
"After a relief force retrieved Alpha and Lima squad, I interviewed each member of the squads. Lieutenant Commander Roosa was the one who started the fight."
Roosa acknowledge, "Sir, I accept full responsibility of the incident."
Mitchel spoke out, "No sir, I was the one who belligerently provoked Roosa. This incident was my fault."
Bowman shouted out, "Quiet, both of you! I'm perfectly aware of the history between the two of you. It's clear neither of you has left behind nor learned from the incident back at the Naval Academy."
Both of them remained silent, the memory of their past incident consuming them. Bowman turned to Anderson, waving the tablet.
"Commander Anderson, before I deal with them, I did a review of your own records. They are quite impressive," he said with a mild smile.
"Thank you, sir. It was all part of the service."
"Unlike these two here, it is what I expect from a man like you. Which is why I'm going to follow up on all those recommendations from your former commanders." Bowman typed on the tablet, sending his orders into the system. A moment later, an alert appeared on Anderson's watch. "Congratulations on your promotion, Captain. I'm giving you command of your own ship."
Anderson stood there, shocked over the news. Roosa and Mitchell were also taken aback by surprise by the personal promotion by the President himself. Anderson murmured before finally saying something audible.
"Uh…" he saluted Bowman again, "Thank you, Mr. President!"
"Not just yet. Unfortunately, this promotion comes with strings attached." Bowman placed the tablet down and turned to the others, "Roosa, Mitchell. I won't sugar coat it. You two have just enough of a public presence that sending you to a court martial wouldn't end well for anyone. To that end, I'm pardoning the charges from your disciplinary hearing."
Both of them saluted Bowman, "Thank you, sir."
Bowman simply nodded, "But this doesn't mean you get off easy. Captain Anderson is now your commanding officer."
"Wait… I have to work with Mitchell?" asked Roosa.
Bowman reached over to his tablet and pressed a single button, "Yes, Lieutenant. Effective immediately, you have been both demoted to the rank of lieutenant. Roosa, you are now Anderson's science officer. Mitchell, you are now his security officer."
Mitchell spoke out, "Pardon sir, but that is a naval position."
"It is," replied Bowman, without a change to his tone, "You have now been transferred to the Navy. And you can thank Admiral Roland, because his initial decision is the only reason I'm letting you keep that N7 logo on your chest."
Mitchell's face dropped, stunned in utter disbelief as he dropped to his knees.
"I'm… no longer... a Marine…" he dropped his head and murmured, "I'd rather be executed."
"You're not getting out of the Navy that easy," replied Bowman, "And you, Roosa. Since you were the one who started this fight, you're going to have to explain to your well-decorated parents, why their son is no longer going to receive the Star of Terra!"
Roosa took a step back, equally as shocked by the news as Mitchell had been, if not a bit more horrified by the prospects of what Bowman said.
"I'm a dead man walking…"
Bowman turned back and reached for his keyboard to end the call for the two lieutenants. "I'll leave the two of you to think about what you've done. But in the end, you had better learn to work together."
"And if they don't?" asked Anderson.
"If it kills them, it kills them…"
Bowman cut the line and turned back to Anderson.
"Before I let you go, as one officer to another, I do wish to offer you my sincerest congratulations. It's a promotion long in the making."
Anderson exhaled, trying to keep calm, "Thank you, sir."
Bowman chuckled, "To be honest, I still remember meeting you for the first time, at the inauguration ball for President Lin. You were a small boy then."
The mention of anything directly relating to his grandfather was a bit unnerving. "That was quite a long time ago."
"Yes it was… seeing you here now. Your grandfather would've been proud to see his own grandson become one of Terra's finest."
Anderson delayed in responding. He finally mustered a response, "That would make one of us."
Bowman simply nodded, realizing he might have struck a nerve. "Anderson, arrange passage back to Earth. Your new ship is the FSS Tokyo, LCCC-1603D. You will be serving under the Sixth Fleet under Admiral Vali's command."
Anderson nodded to him, "Of course. Thank you, sir. Good to hear the Admiral has recovered. I heard rumors saying that Admiral Vali was dead."
Bowman chuckled as he stood up, walking over to sit at his desk as he picked up a tie, "Well, you know how rumors are. Those 'reports' of his death… were greatly exaggerated."
Terran Wikipedia
Public Holidays in the United Terran Federation: Section: National Holidays
National holidays are approved through legislation by the Congress. These holidays correspond with important cultural events. They are known as 'paid holidays' and see the closing of most federal buildings and facilities not tied to military or emergency services. Currently, each holiday that has cultural value is under supervision of a national celebration either by the Department of Labor, Department of Civilian Recreations, Department of Internal Affairs, Department of Religious Affairs, or the Federal Communication Committee.
Date: January 1
Official Name: New Year's Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 85%
% of Paid Time Off: 97%
Remark: Celebrates the beginning of the United Terran Coordinate calendar year. Festivities include counting down to 12:00 midnight on the preceding night, New Year's Eve, often with a fireworks display and party. On orbital platforms and starships, United Terran Coordinate time is used. Colonies will use UTC if the days are too abnormal. Earth time colonies will celebrate with their closest local time zone linked to UTC.
Date: Third Monday of January
Official Name: Equality Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 75%
% of Paid Time Off: 77%
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs, this holiday is an evolution from the American holiday of 'Martin Luther King Jr. Day'. It celebrates the political and cultural equality of all Terran citizens and the work done by those of the past that assisted in reaching this goal. Towns and cities across Earth and the major colonies hold celebrations and parades in honor of workers of the Equal Rights Movements from the past and present. This holiday is also known as the first major civilian volunteer call to service of the year.
Date: First Sunday of February
Official Name: Super Bowl Sunday
% of Terrans Celebrating: 40%
% of Paid Time Off: 40%
Remark: Under the Department of Civilian Recreations. Originally an unofficial holiday for the National American Football League championship game, it was made into an official holiday when the Federation government nationalized all professional sports leagues in 2134. Celebrated with the watching of the NAFL Super Bowl game. This day foresees the largest consumption of chicken wings and cheap beer of the year. Was canceled in 2148 and 2149 during the unrest of the Great Revival. Since 2150, all Super Bowl games are broadcasted at 23:30 UTC.
Date: February 14
Official Name: Valentine's Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 86%
% of Paid Time Off: 34%
Remark: Under the Department of Religious Affairs. Was turned into a national holiday by Congress in 2150. A holiday of religious origins in the Christian faith, the holiday now serves as a secular holiday, where romantic couples showcase their romantic interest to a partner. It accounts for 68% of all flower sales and 34% of all chocolate sales of the year. Via regulations by the Department of Religious Affairs, over the counter contraception is given a 200% reproduction tax for the month of February in order to promote increased birth rates for the year. This tax does not apply on Earth and Eden Prime due to population curving from the Species Preservation Act.
Date: April 22
Official Name: Uplifting Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 37%
% of Paid Time Off: 97%
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communications Committee. Was made a national holiday by Congress in the same legislation as Valentine's Day in 2150. It marks the official end of the Great Revival on Earth. By law, all businesses not directly linked to emergency services or transportation are closed for the day. This holiday is used to remember those who died bringing order to the human home world. It is the first of three 'Memorial Days' of the calendar year.
Date: May 1
Official Name: Worker's Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 89%
% of Paid Time Off: 90%
Remark: Under the Department of Labor. Also known as Labor Day or International Day. This holiday celebrates the rights and the contribution of the workers throughout Terran history. It is celebrated with major parades across the Federation. All businesses not considered legally 'small' must give paid leave or pay double wages and a 10% additional tax for having workers during this day.
Date: June 1
Official Name: Unification Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 85%
% of Paid Time Off: 67%
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communications Committee. The first national holiday of the Federation, passed as one of the first acts of legislation in 2125. Celebrates the full unification of Humanity under one central government with the signing of the Constitution of the United Terran Federation. It is marked with parades, picnics, outdoor events, and fireworks. Also known as Unity Day, by a recent passing of Congress, the holiday will now mark First Contact with alien life and celebrate the entrance of alien races into the Federation.
Date: July 4
Official Name: Liberty Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 54%
% of Paid Time Off: 41%
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communication Committee. A holiday of American origin, it celebrates the freedom and liberty of the Terran people and the history of its emergence in human history. It is celebrated with some commotion on a few colonies, but is met with far greater festivities on former American colonies and on Earth in the USNA than on Unification Day. This holiday was formally known as 'American Independence Day', but after numerous remote colonies declared independence from the UTF on this day, the name was changed to curtail rebellions. It was at the insistence of many American politicians that the name was changed.
Date: First Sunday of August
Official Name: Championship Sunday
% of Terrans Celebrating: 75%
% of Paid Time Off: 29%
Remark: Under the Department of Civilian Recreations. First celebrated in 2137 with the formalization of the National Intra-Galactic Football League. The NIFL Championship Game for Intergalactic Football is played on this day. The formation of the league and the day was in response to the far larger non-American Terran population complaining about the formation of a holiday for a still mainly American cultured sport. This day sees the largest consumption of hummus of the year. Was canceled in 2148 and 2149 during the unrest of the Great Revival. Since 2150, all League Championship game is broadcasted at 12:00 UTC.
Date: Last Tuesday before Resiliency Day
Official Name: Voting Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 99%
% of Paid Time Off: 80%
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs, Department of Religious Affairs, and the Federal Communication Committee. Occurs on the last Tuesday in September after Resiliency Day. It is the main Federal Election Day; with Voting being mandatory in the Federation. Under surveillance by the Federal Communication Committee, everyone eligible to vote does vote. By order of the Department of Religious Affairs, no religious affiliation can be used to excuse one from voting. By order of the Department of Internal Affairs, not voting is a misdemeanor and can be upgraded to a felony on a case-by-case basis. Only physical and mental impairment can excuse one from election. The Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communication Committee ensure no public unrest during this day. All private employers must guarantee that their employees have time to vote, which is paid.
Date: September 11
Official Name: Resiliency Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 68%
% of Paid Time Off: 32%
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs, Department of Religious Affairs, and the Federal Communication Committee. This was originally a USNA holiday created in 2060 to commemorate the 'resiliency' of the Americans during the Great Decay, a time of political, economic, and social upheaval that began with the September 11 terrorist attacks in 2001 and ended with the Second American Civil War between 2041 to 2048, before the US rose back to power to lead Earth into the Atomic Revolution.
After the Great Revival, this day was made a Terran national holiday in 2150. On Earth and the colonies, this day commemorates the loss of lives from the Revival and celebrates the continuing perseverance and 'resiliency' of the Terran people through hardship and threats both domestic and foreign. This is the second 'Memorial Day' in the calendar year.
On the federal level, the start of a new Federal government after the election was moved from the third Monday of September to Resiliency Day. The new congress will convene on this day, though normally only for ceremony purposes in the morning. During Presidential election years, the President's inauguration is held on this day in the afternoon at the capital.
Date: October 24
Official Name: United Earth Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 10%
% of Paid Time Off: 2%
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs. Celebrates the official unification of Humanity on the home world with the passing of the United Earth Charter in 2115. After the Great Revival, this also celebrates the official declaration of World Peace on Earth. This day was formerly 'United Nations Day', marking both the formation of the United Nations in 1946 and the reformation of the United Nations in 2055. Like the holiday it came from, many people are unaware this is a National holiday.
Date: November 11
Official Name: Veteran's Day
% of Terrans Celebrating: 62%
% of Paid Time Off: 65%
Remarks: Under the Department of Internal Affairs. The last holiday of North American origins; this holiday celebrates the men and women that currently and previously served in the Armed Forces of the United Terran Federation. This day is also known as 'Armistice Day' or 'Remembrance Day', used by many groups to call for the end of all wars and conflicts. This is also the third and final 'Memorial Day' in the calendar year.
Date: December 1-31
Official Name: Holiday Month
% of Terrans Celebrating: 90% (Throughout)
% of Paid Time Off: 75%(Throughout)
Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Department of Religious Affairs. Originally, the month of December contained the holidays of Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Year's Eve. After the Great Revival, in an attempt to create better religious harmony, the main holidays for the Abrahamic religions were all grouped together in this month. This led to the creation of a government official 8-day 'Hanukkah Week' from December 8-15, a full 7-day 'Christmas Week' from December 22-28, while the lunar year tradition of Ramadan was moved to occur the entire month of December.
This arrangement has met heavy criticism and protest from both religious and secular groups since it was approved in 2151. Secular groups have argued that approving these holidays violates the Constitution since it is written, "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof..." Many religious organizations from the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim communities have also voiced steep protest; since the establishment of the holidays legally forces followers to obey those dates, while systematically making illegal any other date of worship, arguing a case of 'political correctness gone mad'.
In spite of this, there is currently, among the younger generations, a larger and growing movement to create a 'Thanksgiving' day on the first Thursday of December.
Last Edited 7 October 2167 15:37 UTC
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Hey Everyone!
Thanks for reading!
I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and a lovely Happy Holidays!
And for my fellow students, enjoy the winter break!
(Especially if you're on the semester system and got a whole month off!)
Before I sign off for my winter break,
It is only fair, at the least, to give a shout out
to a fellow writer and friend of mine, Apollonir!
We been in talking the past few months,
exchanging ideas and topics as we read each others story.
He got a great Mass Effect story out right now, The Iron Heart of Man.
As the King of Rock 'n' Roll once said, if your looking for
"A little less conversation, a little more action please!"
You'll get a great read from his story as well.
Oh and don't forget!
I set up a poll on my profile page.
I plan to begin working on a new writing project during the break,
And I would love to know your opinion on the next story I should do.
Results of it will be released at the end of January.
Don't worry, I plan and hope very much to write both!
Till than, and as always,
Thank you all for reading,
Be sure to keep on following,
There's more coming up!
And always feel free to review.
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,
let me know.
I'm always looking for feedback and always aim to improve!
If you have any questions,
Go ahead and review or PM me.
I'd be glad to answer them.
And don't have a 'Blue Christmas' now,
Be happy and live it out!
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