Chapter Thirty-Seven: Personal Allegiance
"My oath, I give and pledge,
To protect and prosper the Founders' ideals
May I be True
Not to race and not to faith,
not to kinship, wealth, or fame
and never so to the yearning of the heart
or those sins of the flesh
Shall my Loyalty never be tempted,
Shall my Loyalty never waver or bring ill
But may I be True and only True,
For People, For Nation,
and For Terra."
The Terran Pledge of Allegiance
Officially adopted after the Great Revival
An originally controversial pledge that was dismissed before the war,
But was adopted during the Reconstruction Era and after the failure of the Great Dissolve Movement.
Longarsi
Eleven Years Ago
"Over here, over here!"
"Don't let him get to the lift!"
There was a bustle of commotion in the damp, poorly lit caves deep underground the rock of Longarsi. Shouting, screams, and gunfire filled the slave dug caverns, where one man and a small child running through the commotion and away from frantic search parties. As they fled from their captors, they took cover behind a broken drill tractor. The man leaned back on it and slid to the ground, tired but unwaving. The young boy with him was on the ground, puking.
"Spirits… Adrein? Adrien, what's wrong?"
The young boy was on the ground, panting, "I'm… I-"
He pulled the boy up and towards him. In the open cavern beyond them, more slavers and guards rushed about in search for them. They stopped a short way opposite from them, attempting to regroup their search.
"The boss will have our heads if we don't find him."
"Then stop bitching and find him, or we won't get off Longarsi ourselves!"
"And the kid?"
"Not everyday we get one the likes of him born here. Get him quickly, and there will be a bonus in it. But get the damn bird alive, no matter what. He's worth a hell of a lot more."
"Shit, now you're talking."
The man took the kid aside to him and tried to comfort him.
"Adrien. We are almost there. Just a one more tunnel until the lift, then we can get out of this place."
He leaned back against the tractor drill, dizzy and out of breath, "But it hurts. I can't-"
"Yes, you can!" He grabbed him by the shoulders and turned his face towards him, "You… you..." On the grizzled, dirty, metal face of his, his mandible opened wide as he broke a grin. A few tears appeared around his eyes, "You're a strong man, Adrein. You're gifts… They will get you so far."
He overheard one of the slavers as they began walking towards their position.
"I'm sure as hell not walking to the lift. Let's take that tractor."
The man rushed him to get ready, "We have to move. Remember what I told is up there?"
The boy turned to him with more enthusiasm and nodded, "The stars?"
The man smiled and laughed, broken by wheezing lungs, but with pleasure all the same, "The stars, yes! Millions of bright lights over your head. Now, are you ready? No more stops. All or nothing. We reach for the stars."
"Yes, dad. I'm ready."
"Good boy."
As soon as the slaver walked around the corner, the man grabbed him by the throat and shoved him down. With a tight turian grip, he chocked the slaver and took his rifle. As the others rushed to the tractor, the man jumped out and opened fire, two precision bursts that ripped through them. As others in the surround caverns heard the gunfire, the two of them broke cover and made for one final rush to the lift.
More slavers and guards entered the main tunnel with them, following a dozen meters behind them. They stopped at each piece of machinery in the tunnel to take cover. The Turian fired back at their pursuers to pin them, before they broke from cover to head down further into the tunnel. But the slavers pushed forward, determine to capture their property. They took numerous shots at the turian, before being scolded to be careful with their aim.
Stopping at another tractor, he turned back and shot back at them. One broke from cover to get closer and he quickly turned to gun him down in the poorly lit tunnel. But as he turned back to the main force, they had charged forward at them, with special kinetic riot shields to protect them. The man unloaded his rifle on them. Sand grain rounds bouncing off their personal shielding or outright stopping upon impact with their riot shield. Then his rifle overheated, unleashing a plume of smoke that signaled them to ran at him in full force to take him.
The Turian readied for melee combat when the walls ahead of him began to shake. A very dim blue light glowed around the section in front of him, barely noticeable even in the dark tunnel. As they got closed, the slavers stopped upon noticing the walls shake. The sound of a loud crack was the last thing they heard before the walls gave out and immediately buried them in a short, rushing wave of dirt and stone.
He turned to Adrein. He was holding out his talons in a biotic stance his father had taught him, his biotics long since given out. He began to sway back and forth, then fall forward. The man rushed to catch him in his arms.
"Adrein!"
He turned to look up at him, "Are… are they gone?"
He picked him up and turned back to the partially collapsed tunnel. He began chuckling at the sight.
"Yes Adrein. You… you, you did great," he placed him back on his feet, "Come on now, son. We're almost there."
They turned around and continued. But as they ran off, a concussion round slammed the man in the back. He collapsed on the ground, spasming violently on the ground as his nervous system went momentary haywire from the hit along the spine. As he shook about on the ground, a slaver that managed to dig himself out the rockslide rushed over to him. But half way there, Adrein charge up at him, biotics at the ready. The slaver struggled about as he held on to him, trying to hit him with his small fist. Though he glowed blue, his strength frim it was all but gone now. He was too tired and unskilled to channel more power.
The turian regained his basic body control, laying flat on the ground as the two of them fought. He nudged his head over to see. His arm twitched in his attempt to pull himself towards them. More of his body came back to him as he slowly crawled towards the two. Meanwhile, the slaver managed to get a hold of Adrein and threw him off and into the ground. He bent over to restrain him.
"That bonus better be worth getting buried alive."
As he reached down, Adrein tossed a handful of dirt at him, blinding his helmet visor. In the confusion, the man yelled out at him to get away. But the slaver panic at the noise. He grabbed his pistol and fired out widely in all directions, including just a little to the right in front of him.
"Adrein!"
He laid there on the ground, yelling out. The man felt a burning rage build inside of him; his clenched his talons and powered through to regain full control of his body. He quickly got off the ground and tackled the slaver as he was distracted. Back on the ground with him, he popped out the slaver helmet in the process. He pushed off the slaver's chest and raised his arm for several powered jabs, pounding the slaver's head into the ground. He turned his eyes to see the slaver's knife, and with a quick motion, he grabbed it, pulled it out and plunge it into his neck.
The turian stood over his body as he hyperventilated. He stared at the bleed neck of the dead slaver. He stared at he faces of his oppressor, another turian. Rich blue blood gushed out his neck. There's was nothing to moan for him.
He stood up and rushed to Adrein. The boy laid there, shaking as he stared up at the ceiling of the tunnel. His father appeared in view, cradling him up in his arms.
"Adrein! Oh spirits, no…" His arm soaked in blood spilling from the lower chest wound.
"Father, I-" He painfully coughed out a batch of blood, "It's… it's-"
"Quite now, Adrein." He picked him up and made a dash for the tunnel lift, "We're almost there. Just a little longer now."
He got to the lift and jammed the controls to head straight up to the surface. Another squad of slaver's reached them and opened fire. He cradled his son close to him to protect from gunfire, until the lift has risen beyond their view.
"C-c-cold."
"We're almost there, Adrein. So many, many stars."
"S-s-stars?"
He ripped his shirt off and tied down the wound, "Stay with me now."
Adrein began shaking even shaking even more, slowly going into shock. His father held him tight to give him his warmth and keep him conscious.
"Remember what I told you? Millions of stars and worlds above our heads? When we get to the surface, I'll let you pick any star, and we'll go there."
"Anywhere?"
"And when you're done. We'll head back to our true home. Palaven, her silver mountains and white seas."
"That… that…"
"Adrien?"
"T-that sounds nice."
Finally, they arrived at the surface. The blast doors opened, and the lift made its way through. The lights on the lift turned off, and a new light filled their eyes. It was the first time the man gazed upon them in so many years. But the boy's eyes opened up wide through he grew weaker, for this natural light shined upon his eyes for the first time.
"There… There! The Stars, Adrein! The Stars!"
"Stars…" he looked out towards the void. A blackness devoid of nothing but black felt different from the bleak darkness below. Staring beyond, there was a resonating glow of the universe he saw for the first time. Mix with that dark glow was the stars, tiny dots of light. Though ever small, they shine as bright as a bright torched, even if so far from him. And though the void was clear to see, he truly felt the vast amount there were, more than all the dirt and sand there was on the ground below.
He turned back to his father one last time, "The stars…"
"Yes Adrein," A tear dropped from his eyes, landing on a cold surface in his arms, "Adrein?"
Bright searchlights turned on, surrounding him on that wide cargo lift. Guards surrounded the sides of the lift, rifle to bare and aimed at him. Their leader stepped forward and called for him, with the deep harsh sound of a standard Batarian.
"Stay where you are, Junius. There's nowhere else to go!"
He held on to his son's body, cradling it as he began to shiver. He felt the air escape him, almost choking on his throat. But suddenly found the breath to yell out.
"Adrien!"
Part 1:
Marcus Junius – FSS Patton's Charge
The Second Day of the Turian Vendetta
September 5, 2168 – 12:00:00 UTC
He awoke with a gasp and sat up, lurking over his sheets. His eyes were met with the darken room of his dark and empty quarters. It was spartan for a terran flag officer, but well stocked in comparison to what he had been used to. He turned to the window, the stars beyond the transparent titanium-aluminum alloy. Realizing where he was, he wiped the sweat beating out the pours between his metal plates. But his heart kept racing and his bare chest expanded and enclosed like the retractable steel armor of an old Terran battle suit. His mind pushed into battle, but his beaten body too old to fight it.
"Computer, location!" His mind needed reassurance to calm the panic.
An ever plain but oddly reassuring beep from the ship's computer rang out before answering his inquiry, "Location: Deck 15-Forward, Section A, Room 167, FSS Patton's Charge."
"Galactic Location?!"
Another beep followed, "GPS Location: Silean Nebula, Kypladon System, approximately 9.8 Astronomical Units from Cyone."
He pulled in the arms holding him up and fell back onto his pillow.
"Spirits, that damn dream… always that damn moment!"
He got back up and walked towards his bathroom. LED lights turned on around the edge of his mirror. He ran the tap on and washed his face. Then he stared at the mirror as the water kept running. He stared deeply into his own eyes, trying to see a face from long ago. Junius could almost see smooth metallic plates and tighter soft skin underneath them. The color of red and orange were tattooed on, starting from his nose and branching out to encompass his face. He closed his eyes, trying to keep that image in his mind.
A message beep than played out; a direct call from the bridge, "Admiral Junius."
He opened his eyes. On the mirror he saw his face as it was now. His metal plates were roughened and have long since lost their glimmer. They sagged a bit due to the loose and wrinkled skin underneath. His face was dull, besides a white line tattooed above each of his eyes that gave the appearance of human eyebrows, and a blue line that ran the length of his two mandibles. The style was growing popular with Turians and Asari living in the Federation.
"Yes, yeoman?" He turned the faucet off and reached for a towel. Back in the present world, his new reality asserted itself. There was more to be done, a new story to play out. He wondered when his path would crossed back to his old beginning.
"Fleet Admiral Woods have called for you to his ready room, sir."
Junius groaned and tapped the wall console to look at the time but acknowledged the order. No one had time as a luxury. He walked towards his closet to grab his uniform.
"Alert the Fleet Ad…" He cracked his back, "Ah… alert Fleet Admiral Woods that I will be there in ten minutes."
The mood on the general situation resonated well across the ship as Junius walked down the corridor. It wasn't any different for any other ship in the fleet. It would have been choking if each of the large terran ships were fully crewed. Where each meter of the corridors of a Flagship type vessel were normally filled with dozens of sailors and officers as they operated one of the largest vessels in the galaxy, even Wood's Flagship was now empty. Only a few spare crewmen running about the couple kilometer structure doing all the jobs needed. With such large losses and unable to withdraw, the First Fleet was doing its part to shore up defenses back home.
"Attention! Attention! Now hear this! Engineering Team 6, report to sector Two, Section 12 for plasma magnetic repair."
Bowman's callous show to the Citadel Council a day earlier had left the everyone in a precarious situation. Failing to get his ships back, the Terrans have opted to keep their ships deployed as is, complying to Council rules and weakening their ability to fully pursue the accusation of the alleged Terran plot to attack Illium, more from the fear of force than any political pressure. Instead of heading the call to fight at home, the famed "Redemption" Fleet that once gain fame and infamy during the Great Revival could not give ships but its precious 'blood', skilled Terran manpower to staff the devastated Second and Fourth Fleet with mothball ships.
"Attention! Attention! Now hear this! Engineering Team 17, report to Computer Core 21 for emergence server expansion."
From nearly five thousand crewed, the ship of nearly three kilometers in size had a near skeleton crew of over three hundred instead. As enlistment ads were spammed and many new sailors and officers were commissioned to man the new fleets at home, the First Fleet held the critical Asari-Council cluster of the Silean Nebula, home to the Elcor and numerous asari colonies. Here though, the fleet was becoming more metal than man. These near empty hulks of Terran industry continued their mission, its remaining men and women manning their station as the AIs expanded themselves to fill the gap.
"Attention! Attention! Now hear this! Life support on deck 56 through 64 will be powered down to stagnant status at Fourteen Hundred Hours. All crew are to report to their supervisor for completion of move to deck 50 and above."
As for the Turian Hierarchy, the situation played to no one's advantage. Instead of also staying as ordered, nearly all of them deserted to fight in the Vendetta or the Civil War. Those terrans remaining to guard Council space watched their former Turian allies break formation en masse to head home. After Primarch Arterius call for Vendetta, and Admiral Fedorian call to reunite the empire, many rushed back to fight for the new Primarch and Nation, and others to restore the suddenly divided empire under the famous Admiral. They had done what the Council hoped the humans would have done instead; abandon the galaxy for their own interest.
In all the confusion, the Council itself, instead of picking a side, opted to watch. Many on all sides will remember that action, or lack of.
"And another damn thing. You call this a proper optic welding?!" the voice of a human yelled out around the corner.
"T-they are within proper procedure!" that voice was flanging.
Ahead, there were three crewmen. Two were human, an ensign and a petty officer. The third was a turian, his species tailored uniform of an enlisted crewman, seaman ranked. The three of them were grouped in front of an open wire conduit box, in a corridor that was slowly curving as Junius walked into sight of them. The turian was standing tall and still as his two human superiors yelled at him. They stood over a third of a meter shorter than the crewman, but they were very much talking down on him from below.
"We are at war! Only the best would do for the flagship of the Admiral Woods!" yelled the petty officer at him.
"If I didn't know any better, I would think the skull fuck face bird here is doing this on purpose," the ensign smiled and turned to the petty officer, "I think we have sort of saboteur here!"
The petty officer quickly joined in on the not so joking accusation, "The ensign here may be right."
The turian crewman quickly defended himself, "I am no saboteur! I am a loyal sailor, a terran!"
"You are no damn Terran, yah filthy treacherous bird!"
Junius rushed to the scene, quickly commanding the attention with his deep, aged voice, "Sailors! What in the meaning is going on here!?"
"We caught ourselves a spy!" the ensign replied. It was quick, the two humans momentarily responding to rank, before they registered who was in the uniform.
"Really, is that so?" Junius grew weary of the entire fiasco he got himself in, "Crewman, is that true?"
"No, sir!" he replied with urgency and defense, "I was just installing these cables. I'll have my installation re-inspected if you wish."
"I think that would be satisfactory to this problem…"
The ensign grumbled, "Yah, to double check your handiwork…"
Junius snapped to him, "What was that, ensign?"
"You don't expect us to believe that?" the two stared Junius down, "You're one of them! Command may be dumb enough to give you birds rank to seem all diverse, but we know better."
The crewman was quick to move in to defend the admiral, but Junius stopped him and took point in front of the ensign, "You have no right to question your superior officer!"
"We refuse to bow to the lesser of the galaxy," they began to pull out their tool from their belts, electrical and welding equipment, "we only take command from true superiors our own kind!"
They brought their tools to bear, Junius slowly edging for his sidearm as he locked eyes on the human. But then another sight directly beyond caught his eye. Instantly, both he and the crewman straighten posture and saluted.
"Admiral, sir!"
"Admiral?" the two humans turned, dropping their equipment to raise their hands as soon as they saw who it was, "Fleet Admiral Woods! Sir!"
"I hope my words carry weight here," Woods said, calmly asserting his control of the situation. The aged man stood postured and assertive. As one of the highest ranked officers in the fleet, his presence shifted all attention to him. His messed hair, wrinkled jacket and crumpled undershirt made no impact on anyone who knew who he was and the history of his status, "Now what the hell is going on here!?"
"Sir! We were, uh…" the ensign paled looking at him.
"Sir, we were having a dispu… disagreement on Seaman Famus work with this and other optical relays…"
"Exactly, uh, sir!"
"Ah, I see…"
Woods' eyes turned down onto the floor. As the two humans turned down to look at what he was seeing, his raised his head back up and they followed, jerking their heads up. Woods raised his foot over the welding torch and, with a skilled kick, kicked it up for him to catch.
"Well than. If you have a disagreement with a higher-ranking officer, you will properly address your grievance as dictated under Naval law…" He grabbed the fuel nozzle and cranked it wide open, unleashing a bright white flame. Woods proceeded to scorch the bulkhead next to them with very neat precision. The two of them twitched, feeling the radiant heat from the burnt line on the now melting metal plate. "And you do not threaten a superior officer outright, let alone my executive officer. Am. I. Clear!?"
"Sir, yes sir!" they both saluted to him.
Woods smiled, his eyes clashing the tone, "Good…" he snapped the torch in half, "Now scram! Before I make an example of you as well…"
"Sir!"
The two immediately bumped into each other as they hurried away down the corridor. Shaking his head, he tossed the broke weld aside and turned to the turian, "Are you ok, son?"
"I-I'll be fine, sir."
"Good. I don't tolerate insubordination on my ship. I want you to file an official complaint form and send directly to me, understood?"
"Sir, uh, I don't think this incident-"
"Son," He spoke with a more soft and reassuring tone, "The Hierarchy may prefer things resolved quickly and directly. But we're Terrans. The bureaucracy is a far more effective punishment. Understood?"
"Yes sir."
"Good… dismissed."
The crewman saluted him and quickly hurried off.
"Follow me, Junius." He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his wrinkled and overstretch coat, "We have real problems to attend to."
Part 2:
Michael Woods and Marcus Junius
FSS Patton's Charge
September 5, 2168 – 12:50:00 UTC
Traveling at over a hundred kilometers an hour, their elevator quickly made its way through the ship's tubes towards the bridge. Both Woods and Junius stood there as they waited to arrive.
"Was there a reason you came down to meet me, admiral?" asked Junius.
Woods sighed, "Yes, actually. The situation in the system has grown more worrisome. I wanted to discuss this with you as soon as possible. Brainstorm ideas. But after that show back there, my mind is now preoccupied on that. "
"Your men appear to be easily commanded by your authority."
Woods didn't respond positively to the complement, "If I had true command, my influence would have prevented that altercation back there from occurring. No, Admiral Junius. My rank may garnish authority, keeps things official. My reputation, now that garnishes fear. Those sailors feared what I would do to them for disobedience."
Junius nodded, "I've read the reports of what happen on the over Europa."
Woods appeared distracted, looking away to the wall. He turn to answer, "I expect nothing less from a man of your experience."
"It seemed very straight forward. Your actions were quick, decisive. You saved the fleet…" Junius noticed Woods now looking at him, his face mute but his eyes showing disbelief, "I can presume… that's just one way to view what happened."
"I guess so." He turned to the elevator console and stopped the elevator, "Admiral, you served under me for a year now. You know very well I won't be ignorant to the fact that, in another situation, you would be both a superior ranked officer and have far more experience and years under you than I do."
"But here we are right now. You are my commanding officer, and you have my full capabilities and loyalty to assist you in our mission. Besides, my counselor taught me to avoid thinking about the what-ifs in life. I have come to terms of my life in the Terran fleet."
"Really, eh? I would imagine it be more difficult for someone to adjust to all the events this past year. Whether it be the slaves we rescued, those of the Citadel Council, or even our own people."
"We all tried to form some form of normality." Junius tapped the control and the elevator resumed, "But sometimes, that never really occurs. Change scares us all. Change makes us act irrationally…"
"Or there could be another way to see what's causing this war."
"They're rebels. I have faith we will find a way to crush them. And if not, Fedorian shall do so."
"Is that so?"
"I have seen the true capabilities you humans have. I also trust my former comrade's ability. But I would be in disbelief if my new country fails to rise to the occasion."
"Let's see if we can rise for this one… And Admiral Junius."
"Yes, sir?"
"Its only fair you know the story of what happen over Europa. When the time comes, anyway."
"We all have our stories. When you are ready, admiral. But believe me. As both your executive officer, and a former Fleet Admiral, you have by confidence."
Woods chuckled, "From you, that's high praise. I can only imagine how many Turians wish for that kind of praise from you."
They reached the bridge. The main bridge crew was still fully staff, with an officer and sailor at each station. In spite the new developing situation, the bridge was calm otherwise; each station producing no more noise than that of the instruments' humming and beeping. As they walked down to the front near the massive viewport, Junius noticed some of the crewmembers. There were multiple copies of the same person. The occasional body glitches made easy to know that they were holograms. The AIs were projecting multiple copies of their avatar to supplement the crew and physically handle additional stations. Junius had become use to their presence, more than most of the Quarian crew. He knew enough to know also, that unlike the Geth, the syntha-human was designed to be like the human. They exhibit an enhancement of both man's capability and many, many flaws. A rather dangerous, but effective failsafe.
"As you know, dozens of Hierarchy flotillas from across the galaxy have broken from Council deployment to head back home to fight," Woods pointed to the screen, "It is just recently that the ships assign to us here in Asari space have begun the same."
Junius nodded, "While these ships abandoning their post is a very disgraceful situation for the Hierarchy, we have plenty of ships with enough crew to patrol this sector."
"We still are faced with two problems. One, which is out of our control, is that the ones here in this cluster are all heading for Relay 047. It connects to the Alban Cluster, which is held by Hierarchy Loyalist, and the Inovia Nebula, which is now a Nationalist cluster. Ship count is just over a hundred or so."
"And the problem we could be dealing with?"
"Here," Woods interfaced the holographic display on the viewport and opened a magnified view of the relay's vicinity in space. Twisting his hand to zoom the screen until the relay appeared as a blue dot, the sensors automatically assigned blips to show the hundreds of squadrons a few thousand kilometers to the relay. The image was being updated with hyperspace telescopes for live feedback.
"They're clustered around it?"
"Reports say ships across Council space are making beelines to a relay to Turian space. Some independent Asari nations have taken to even joining those that swore loyalty to Primarch Arterius. The unified Republics condemns war, but does nothing, naturally. Here though, they are gathering up. Not moving on."
"And the relay?"
Woods pointed to a live feed screen, where light was being gathered through a nanoscopic hyperspace wormhole, "Currently pointed into general council space. All commercial traffic has been forced away from it and colonial officials on Cyone are demanding we open it up. So far, no one had tried to-" the screen abruptly disappeared. As they turned their heads to notice, it reappeared. This time, the image had a time stamp at the corner, displaying Time Delay: 01:10:10. "What the hell?"
A holo-avatar of the Command AI abruptly appeared next to them.
"Sir, hypercomms are completely offline."
Woods turned around, "What? Completely offline?"
"Admiral, we are experiencing heavy hyperspace distortion. We can't raise a stable nanoscopic wormhole."
Junius questioned him, "Is this from a space anomaly? A solar flare?"
"No, Admiral Junius. We can always power through the radiation that naturally enters hyperspace. Here, we cannot actually enter hyperspace all together."
"Engines?"
"Enough energy to push through, but distortion is making wormholes more difficult to stabilize. All ships report to be working on ways to stabilize one for travel. Likewise, warp engines are also being affected. Not enough for FTL speed, but we have static fields for gravity and STL speeds."
Woods nodded. He didn't seem worried, just bothered, "This is likely a short occurrence. Some massatanium mining ships experience this on rare occasions."
Junius frowned, feeling at odds of the recent event, "It's a rather fortunate event for that fleet at the relay. We no longer have a live update. Admiral, I recommend we reposition our ships. Move closer to cover the gap and get a less latent image. They'll likely think we are just patrolling, since we are not using FTL."
"Agreed. And the other flotilla, George?"
"Our flotilla is effected," he added, "But Science Officer Feng believes the Third Flotilla is unaffected from their position. These rare occurrences tend to be local."
"They're on the far side of the system near Cyone. And the Third Fleet's Fifth Flotilla will be in the system soon to get to the Citadel. Since we can't send a ship, get on the QEC to-"
"Sir, I don't recommend that. Our ship's entangled particle pair is on Arcturus. But Admiral Chao's ships are based on Earth. It would be longer for them to relay messages to Earth and back to Chao, under current system protocol."
"God damn…" Woods took a deep breath, "I was against moving all of our major telecom equipment offworld," He shook his head, "Whatever, switch to Time Comms protocol and position them on our opposite position to the Relay. Alert Arcturus of our status and tell them to free up some particles and relays to get to the others."
"Yes, sir." The AI disappeared. Down in the trenches, another hologram of him that was sitting there, manning a station, turned to a comms officer next to him, "Ensign, switch to LADAR and send a message to the Third Flotilla. They are to move-" he pressed his holographic finger on the screen, instantly bringing up the coordinates, "To these coordinates immediately upon receipt of message."
The ensign turned to him in disbelief, "Sir, we are over a light hour from the nearest comm buoy."
"We'll have to make due. Get to it."
"Aye, sir," The ensign turned to a side console and began scrolling for the manual for Time Comms protocol. Opening the manual to the outdated, but standardize message format, he read off the manual. "I thought our damn refits would have included a mass light system," His LARDAR broadcast began, an intense data-filled laser bean fired the nearest Council Comm Buoy.
"This is FSS Patton's Charge, timestamp UTC 12:55:08. Begin Time Comms Protocol. Start Authorization Code, uh, Tango-Romeo-Alpha-India. Hyperspace communications are non-functional. By order of Fleet Admiral Woods, Vice-Admiral Chao is to move all ships to the local coordinates 645.321.040 in formation Patrol-5. Enact order immediately upon receipt and send acknowledgement response in Time Comms protocol. Establish hyper comms when possible. End Authorization Code Tango-Oscar-Romeo. Time Stamp UTC 12:55:50. Patton's Charge out."
Junius turned to Woods, "Time Comms?"
"An old method of communications. We haven't had hyperradio for very long, and we didn't make it officially standard until the end of the Revival. Carrier ships tend to be unreliable in short distances; both hyper and warp engines need to recharge and warp fields around ships destabilize the more frequent stops there are in a short period of time. In the event of light speed communications, this is how we coordinate fleet movement." Woods waved his hand over the entire trench with rows of consoles, "Most of these stations were just for that a long time ago. Move this ship at time 0525. Form up attack delta pattern at time 1340. Execute regroup at time 0132."
"Spirits! We had mass comms since we discovered eezo. To actually use light speed comms, to command fleets like these?"
Woods finally broke a chuckle, "I must admit. I played a role in making hypercomms the main communication form."
Junius nodded, "I see we will have to wait."
"Unit then, read this," Woods send an info packet to Junius' watch, "We do have information of the commander of those ships. Maybe you might know something?"
An Hour Later
THV Belnargo
"Status?"
The CIC of the Belnargo, unlike their Terran counterpart across the system, was abuzz of activity. Dozens of officers and crew were moving about to different stations, relying orders, updates, and new data. The commotion filled the air with a mix of yelling, order repeats, and discussion of the current situation. But the admiral at his podium seemed calm and stared at the consoles around him.
A commander turned to him form his station, "Admiral, a delayed message from Admiral Hadiam has arrived. The third flotilla in Nimbus Cluster will not acknowledge your order. He has cited Hierarchy Standing Order 457 and is demanding you to comply to it."
"Admiral," another lieutenant standing on the other side of him added on, "The twelfth flotilla of the Fourteenth Fleet has sworn their loyalty to you. We can have them intercept the Third-"
"No, no," he swiped the screens, brining up engineering reports, "Have them head directly for Nation space. We shouldn't risk allowing the fighting to spill into Council space, not with something this small, anyway."
He turned to the reports. The Belnargo was one of the larger Bellicose Class dreadnoughts, an old design dating several centuries. Dating from a time of rearmament during a conflict from back then, it was larger than most dreadnoughts but ended up with similar specs and capabilities as any other. Her rather oversized mass effect core was usefully through for what the admiral needed.
"Seems well… Professor Ducelia!"
From the rear corridor, a scrawny looking turian was pushing into the CIC by two marines. He was marched to the podium.
"Uh, yes, Admiral Caracalla?" He kept nervously looking back at the two marines behind him.
"Well, professor. It seems this project of yours work."
"B-but of course. It was green lit by General Victus himself."
"So then," he grabbed one of the holographic screens and brought it up to his face, "Tell me what the status of the Terran ships in the system is."
A marine nudged him with his rifle to take the screen, "ah yes. Let's see… There are two thousand ships in the system. The special mass effect field should have engulfed the entire system."
"So their hyperspace technology is disabled?"
"Partially," Said Ducelia.
Caracalla stared him down, "Partially?"
"The energy for our cores has extended the field to levels our projections haven't thought possible. But we lack the equipment to achieve the frequency needed to strengthen the field. Our equipment was just confined to study a zone of 500,000 kilometers, not a whole light year. We are still trying to understand the effects of alternate current on element zero, in relation to hyperspace."
He grumbled, "Then tell me what we likely did to them."
"Their comms are most likely down. With enough modifications, based on what we know of their engines, they will regain FTL engines in a few hour or so. But it would be far longer to regain hyperspace radios. I should also add, both ours and their warp engines are affected by the field."
"Our main systems?"
"Unaffected. Mass Effect engines and communications are fully operational."
At the podium, an alert from one head communications officer appeared. Caracalla answered, "What is it?"
"Admiral, our monitoring of the comm buoys indicate the Terrans have began using the buoys for communication. Based on their position from the system, there is about a one-hour delay in communication between the two flotillas using the buoys."
The lieutenant next to Admiral Caracalla turned to him, "Sir, we have confirmed that the Terran Third Flotilla has begun movement towards our vicinity. Based on their thrust acceleration and standard max speed, they will be opposite position to the Terran First Flotilla at our position in two hours."
"Comms, can we intercept that message?" He communicated with the communications officer again.
"No sir. Its quantum encrypted. We can't break it."
He reached for another holographic screen, one with a display of his fleet's ships around the relay. "So be it-"
"Sir, if you wish through, we could crash the system. But the Asari and civilian traffic wouldn't not be happy with-"
Caracalla turned forward, "Crash? Hmmm. Stand ready with that," He turned around, "Professor, does the Hierarchy have this research?"
"Uh, well. Yes, General Victus and Professor Tantuals both have the main schematic we are using on our Mass Effect drive."
"And we have them both! For you see, they have joined Primarch Arterius and the Nation!"
Ducelia took step back, bumping into the marines, who shoved him back forward. In the confusion of the apparent start of the civil war, no one has informed those outside Turian space of the true status of the two important men. This was likely in good measure. Everyone's loyalty was in question until they return to pick a side.
"Oh… That's, uh, good."
"Very much. Now, I have more work to do. I will show them just how potent a weapon your work is. Guards, take him back to his 'quarters'."
"Yes sir!"
The two marines grabbed him by the arms and pulled him away from Caracalla. With only a hundred plus ships directly under his command, his contribution to the war effort seemed low. The research he had was already being parallel developed, so he thinks. But he had a large amount of the Terran Fleet in system. In one of those ships was one of humanity's most veteran fleet admirals. With that critical human was someone else that would be of very great interest. And taking him out would prove utterly decisive.
Thirty minutes later
FSS Patton's Charge
"Admiral, message from the third flotilla. It's being sent to us from the comm buoy," Yelled another commsman over to the Woods.
Woods turned to Junius, who was at the center of the bridge, "Admiral Junius, come over here. Commsman, play the message."
Junius walked over, and they heard the message.
"This is FSS Light of Sol, timestamp UTC 14:35:10. Begin Time Comms Protocol. Start Authorization Code Papa-Alpha-Tango. Vice-Admiral Chao reporting directly. We acknowledged the order and will leave immediately upon receipt. Be advice, we are also affected and cannot raiser hypercomms or FTL. Last hypercomm message from the Third Fleet informs the Fifth Flotilla will arrive at timestamp UTC 13:30:00 via Transwarp. Advice to contact them from your side of system. Will await further instructions. End Authorization Code Romeo-India-Oscar-Tango. Time Stamp UTC 14:36:10. Light of Sol out."
The commsman added on, "Arcturus has managed to reroute QEC communication lines. We have contact with the Fifth Flotilla and our Third Flotilla just as well, the light from the Fifth Flotilla will be spotted in approximately ten minutes. Time communication delay is at ten seconds over QEC."
"Junius, coordinate my staff and get the other flotilla on the line." Woods pointed to the commsman as Junius walked back to the main command table, "Play it."
"This is the Chariot of Apollo. Timestamp UTC 14:50:35. Commodore Carson speaking. We are communicating to you through the Arcturus Quantum Communications Hub. We have arrived on schedule and will make for your position at full haste. Main force ETA is five hours. Arcturus Command and Fleet Admiral Darya acknowledges your situation and will be on standby for your instructions. Chariot of Apollo out."
The AI George appeared again, "Sir, we are receiving a transmission from the turian formation. Its comm buoy based, so transmission is live."
"But we can't talk back," Woods grumbled, "Play it here."
"Sir," the AI showed hesitation on his particular instruction, "I would recommend you bring it on screen. The entire staff, and Admiral Junius, should see this."
"On screen than. Now I know I won't like this."
"All ships to position," Caracalla took position as the rest of the command crew hurried to their station. The lights dimmed slightly as the ship went to full alert, "This is it than," he took a deep breath and contemplated over his next action, "We will make them feel our vendetta!"
The order was repeated throughout the CIC.
"All ships to position!"
"All ships to position! All crew to stations."
His commsman reported in, "Crash protocol ready, sir."
"Stand by. We'll need them for one last message."
Caracalla leaned forward on his podium and stared at his screen. A mass relay was shown on-screen. The relay was a small, secondary type relay. It connected to local clusters along the Asari-Turian border. It was a vital relay to the Elcor, connecting their home cluster to the galaxy. If somehow loss, it would devastate the Asari and Elcor colonies. But the loss of the vital Terran Admiral would have greater repercussions.
"Open comms to all ships in the system and send the transmission through the relay… and also broadcast across the ship. I want Aberion to hear this."
"Uh, Captain. What are you doing?"
Professor Ducelia looked over his cell to Captain Aberion's cell. The former captain of the ship was working on a broken terminal inside his cell. In the commotion of the general alert and Caracalla's announcement, the room was momentarily vacant. As he was about to respond, the wires short circuited and sparked, pushing him away.
"Damn it," he walked away and turned to the cell's kinetic barrier, "I have to get my ship back. I won't let that overzealous idiot Caracalla take my ship and crew to join the rebels."
He dropped his face into his hands, sighing in exhaustion, "Don't bother, captain. You know those wires are decoys to see if prisoners try to escape. You can't get out from the inside."
"I commanded this ship since my daughter joined the academy," he went back to work, "These wires are still powered from a local power junction that also supplies the computers controlling the brig. I just need to fry the junction."
"These wires have only a few volts. The junction can take a power surge from the reactor core."
"I can not stop. I have to-"
"Attention, to all in the Kypladon System. This is Admiral Caracella of the Turian Fifteenth Fleet. Today, war rage across the civilized galaxy-"
"Oh spirits. What is he doing now?" He returned to the broken panel, "Come on!"
"Yesterday, we have been told of the crimes of the Humans and their Terran Nation. Already, Primarch Arterius was achieved victory over their fleets, over the same ones that conquered the Batarians in a week. A victory that should have been ours, if it wasn't for the weak leadership of Primarch Cassiud…"
"What was he planning to do with your experiment?"
"He's using it to disable the Terran's FTL drives and communications. But they still have their quantum particles to communicate."
"But their ships will be in stuck, in-system. What does he get from that?"
"Terran vessels. You know who I am. I know you, too. Admiral Woods, the senior Fleet Admiral. The famed man who crushed the insurgency of the very fleet he now commands. You must know what I am doing here, blockading this relay."
The doors opened, two marines walked in. As they went to check on the prisoners, the heavy steps against the bulkhead and the charging sound of a Phaeston made them turn around. A hail of sand grain rounds overwhelmed them, piercing dozens of holes into them and the bulkhead behind them and splashing blue blood against the kinetic barrier of the cells.
"Captain!"
"Commander?"
Aberion's XO Tuvelio rushed in the brought down the barriers, the splatter of blood falling to the ground with it. He side stepped around the dead marines and opened the professor's cell as well.
"Spirits, you killed them!"
"Admiral Caracalla is going to get us all killed!" Tuvelio dragged him out the cell.
Aberion spoke, "What do you mean? He would be insane to attack them here. He's outnumbered and lacks that tool to disable their ships."
"It's not that-"
"My ships alone will do little to stop the Terrans. But I have shown the resourcefulness of my race. Right now, I have disabled the Terrans, leaving their ships as helpless hulks in space. Right now, they are stranded. They are defenseless! And I will strike the killing blow, one to show our resolve, that of the galaxy against you humans.
"As I speak, I will demonstrate our resolve. I have three dreadnoughts and an assortment of heavy and battlecruisers with me. Together, they will have the power to destroy this mass relay and unleash the power of the Protheans! I will burn this system and cut the head of the First Fleet. This is no mere vendetta anymore. It is a revolution against our oppressors!"
"Oh spirits of Palaven, he's going to blow up the relay!"
Part 3:
FSS Patton's Charge
September 5, 2168 – 15:00:00 UTC
Woods' eyes were wide open, "Jesus Christ! George, did you get that?"
"Yes, sir."
Junus turned to him, "He can't do that, those things are indestructible!"
"We don't have enough research to know. The relay is vastly dense, keeping its structure together in a manner similar to a neutron star. Its hull composition is still unknown."
"But if I learned anything in life, anything can be cracked. And something that can send a ship across the galaxy would have enough power to wipe out anything near it if released," Woods radioed his science officer, who was at the back of the bridge, "Feng. The birds are planning on blowing up a relay. How much energy can that release?"
Feng responded, "Hold on… we barely have any idea what powers the mass relays. But given the energy needed to open a mass free corridor, and still be around for so long… If the turians break that thing, the energy level would be equivalent to a small nova at least. And it would project a mass effect field around the system when it goes."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning a shockwave traveling at FTL speed! Everything in the system will be fried in an instant. And the surrounding star systems could still suffer heavy damage, with little time to warn."
"Spirits, this man's record was barely remarkable. He completely snapped!"
"So have half the Hierarchy, Admiral. He's going to sacrifice himself and an entire star system just to kill me. Get on all comms, anything that works, and get word to all ship traffic to leave the system immediately. Alert Cyone to evacuate immediately."
George chimed in, "Sir, that's nearly 300 million people. They won't get even one million off."
Feng added on, "Sir, the explosion would travel at speeds exceeding Mass Effect engines. Only a hyperdrive engine could outrun the blast."
Woods facepalmed, "Which no one has…"
"Admiral, sir!" The comms went off. The Chief Engineer was reporting in with haste, "We have the engines recalibrated. We have enough energy for one jump through hyperspace!"
He raised his head, "Good job, chief. Get the rest of the flotilla ready, we'll have to jump guns ablaze and stop that mad-"
"And one last thing…
"Marcus Junius!"
Everyone turned to the Turian admiral at the front of the bridge. Junius turned to the screen, showing Admiral Caracalla addressing him directly.
"I know you are on their ships!" He paused to let that fact settle in, "Our fallen Hero of Philippi. The rumors of your survival have spread across the galaxy. But we now know... You are alive! All the galaxy hear this and know that Marcus Junius is alive… and he serves under the Terran banner! He sold out his nation, his race, to serve as a lackey to the humans. Conditioned to be no more a slave to them than to the Batarians.
"Now… you and your masters will die in protean fire! Death to the traitors. Glory to the Turian Nation!"
The broadcast ended. The bridge was silent, save the beeping sounds of the consoles and instruments. Junius stood there, aghast and staring at the viewport into the stars. Now everyone knew he was back, and it was very clear how some felt of that fact. Junius didn't worry of what Caracalla thought. He worried of those he still cared for would have thought.
He whispered, still shocked, "… General Quarters."
The alert instantly activated across the ship from standby as multiple holoavatars of the AI George yelled out the order to go to General Quarters. As the crew scramble to bring the ship to full battle status, Junius turned his head to Woods.
"Sir?"
Woods nodded, understanding as he crossed his arms to observe, "You have the conn, Mr. Junius."
"Thank you, sir." He shouted the order, "All weapons at the ready. Helmsman… engage!"
"We have the Chief Engineer on our side, but Weapons Officer Nuvian can't disable the main guns. Her staff is loyal to Caracalla."
"We'll have to take the CIC then," Aberion stopped at the corner of the corridor leading to the CIC. He signaled Tuvelio at the other corner as his supporters got into position to follow in behind them, "Ready?"
"Ready!"
"Sailors, I won't lie. We are well outnumbered. The chief will disable thrusters, so Caracalla can't aim at the relay. But we must disable the main command routine to stop the guns, and we can only do it here. Whatever happens, we must stop the traitors from destroying the relay. Hundreds of millions of lives are on the line. And if we fail, well… someone put a round in Carcalla's head. Drinks on the other side will be on me."
"We're with you sir, all the way. May the spirits watch over us."
"May they watch over us indeed. For Fedorian and the loyal Hierarchy, charge!"
They rushed around the corner and charged at the command doors. A squad of marines broke from post and took aim at the loyalist, ordering them to back off. But at the last moment, two of them turned their rifles at the others and fired, gunning them down and opening the way to the CIC. Captain Aberion arrived at the door and had the marines plant a charge on the door.
"Blow it!"
The metal doors blew in. A momentarily suction of air out the CIC due to pressure imbalance was followed with Captain Aberion and his men charging into the CIC. Gunfire broke out immediately and the fight scattered across the CIC as command crew picked sides between the Loyalist and the Nationalist. Aberion rushed to a command console at the rear of the CIC to disable the ship's weapons.
Caracalla turned around and attacked. His officers fired at Aberion, who made a dash for the console as he fired his pistol at them. Commander Tuvelio followed behind, pinning Caracalla near his podium.
He jumped over the podium, and landed on the central holographic platform, before rushing off onto the floor. He shoved a fighting pair away and rushed over, pulling his sidearm out and firing at Aberion's supporters at the rear. Commander Tuvelio charged at him with his Phaeston. Caracalla charged forward at him in turn and grabbed his rifle mid-swing, then leveled his pistol, putting three rounds in his chest before kicking him off.
Caracalla turned to Aberion. As he hurried away to break into the computer, the admiral fired at him. The console sparked from the sand grain rounds hitting it, Aberion turned and fired back, overwhelming his personal barrier at that distance and shooting Caracalla's pistol out his hand. He stumbled back, but then reached for his knife and charged forward.
He pinned Aberion to the console, pushing down on the handle of his knife that hovered above the captain's face. Aberion held on, pushing back up, then kicked him off. He lunged forward and threw a few jabs. Caracalla stumbled back onto his podium, Aberion pulling out another sidearm to finish him off.
Among the fighting in the CIC, a flashbang grenade bounced off near them and went off. The white blinding flash was followed by a momentary silence around them. As Aberion looked around to see where he was, Caracalla attacked him, plunging a knife into his shoulder and slamming him back into rear console.
He released him, letting him slide down onto the ground and leaving a blue blood streak on the broken consoles. Caracalla slowly stumbled back to the podium as his officers formed up to keep the remainders of the loyalist back. He grabbed hold of the railing and hoisted himself up.
"Do not fret. No one will ever know of your treachery to the Nation," Caracalla brought up the screen to send the order to fire on the relay, "As far as the galaxy will know, we died striking a devastating blow against the Terrans and the Traitors. We died for the Vendetta, and the Nat-"
A round pierced through his head and into the ceiling of the CIC. Caracalla stood there for a moment, before collapsing onto the podium. Everyone turned to the back of the room, Aberion's arm trembling as he held his pistol up. The Caracalla faction turned to Aberion, before noting his own supporters were ready to gun them down if they shoot him. Caracalla was dead, they knew they have lost. After another moment, they lowered their weapons and surrendered.
"Alert the medic ward, we have wounded!" Someone ordered out to the loyal crew as they assumed the primary stations in the CIC.
Two loyal officers rushed to Aberion, who gestured them to pick him up. He tried to walk forward to the post, against the protest of his men who pointed out the knife still lodge in his shoulder.
Professor Ducelia and the medical personnel rushed in tend to the wounded.
"Commander Tuvelio?" He asked, before coughing some blood out.
Ducelia checked, "I'm sorry sir. He's dead."
"Damn… it!" he cursed under his breath, but kept moving forward, one of his men holding him up by the other arm.
"Sir!" The officer on sensor yelled out, "The Terran First Flotilla have just hyperspace jumped to ten thousand clicks form us. They are in attack formation!"
Ducelia turned to him, "Captain, general quarters?"
"No," He moaned, "Hail them."
"What?"
"Hail them, now!" He vomited out a chunk of blood, "At my podium."
The commsman replied, "Yes sir!"
"We're here, sir!" yelled the helmsman to alert the bridge.
"Moving into formation alpha-8," George informed Woods and Junius.
Junius nodded, "All ships, prepare to attack."
The Comms officer acknowledge, "Aye, sir. All ships await command- Sir, we are being hailed by the turian flagship, the Belnargo."
"Wait now, Junius," Woods turned back, "Hold fire. On screen, now!"
Junius took a step aside from the center of the forward bridge. The screen opened up to the hail from the Turians. Immediately, they were greeted to the image of Admiral Caracalla's body slumped over the command podium. Behind him were a platoon's worth of sailors and marines standing guard over the rebellious crew that sided with the late admiral. Behind Caracalla directly was a darken figure beyond the light casting down on the admiral. Emerged from it was Captain Aberion, who walked forward into clear view. With a struggle, he reached out with his good arm and grabbed Caracalla's body and pull it off what was now his podium. He then grasped the railing and stepped on, pulling himself up before turning to the screen. The first notable impression everyone got was the knife still lodge in his left shoulder.
He didn't say anything. A moment went by, then he spoke to someone off screen, "Extent hail and broadcast to everyone from the beginning."
"Yes, sir. Done."
"Good… To everyone listening to this. This is…" He momentarily collapsed in place, numerous officers rushing to his aid. He picked himself back up and waved them off, "This is Captain Aberion of the Belnargo. Admiral Caracalla is no longer in command. Effective immediately, I am now taking command of all Turian ships in the system. In compliance to Admiral Fedorian's Order 457, I am now ordering all ships to make due course for Hierarchy Space. Refusal to comply to this order will be considered treason and will-" He grasped his wound, grunting at the pain while waving the medics off, "And will be dealt with in an appropriate manner. All orders, and statements, from the late Admiral Caracalla are to be considered disavowed by the Hierarchy. Commsman, end general broadcast."
"Aye, sir… We are now on a direct line with the Terran Patton's Charge."
"Good. Fleet Admiral Woods…" He stared at him, speaking to him directly, seeing each other on their screen, "On behalf of myself, you have my apologies for the events that transpired here today."
"Captain Aberion," Woods responded, "Do you require any assis-"
"No, Admiral… But you have my thanks."
"Rest assured, you have my thanks as well."
"I must be off… but, if I may ask. Was what Caracalla said of Junius true?"
Woods turned to Junius, who stood out of sight. He turned back, "I'm sorry, but I am not able to comment-"
"Sir," Junius spoke up. Woods turned to him. He nodded, and Woods nodded back in acknowledgement. There was little reason to bring the issue up before, as neither side was willing to discuss it. But with the Nation sure to try and confirm this fact to damn both the Hierarchy and the Federation, it was better it be done on their terms. Woods gestured to his commsman to extend the range of view to include Junius.
"Spirits, it is true."
"Captain Aberion… I trust you are doing well?"
He chuckled, "In this day and age…" He pulled the knife out of his shoulder and the medics rushed to cover him up with medigel, "I can't complain."
"Yes, I see," Junius smiled. He thought for a moment if he knew the man. A memory came up, "Aberion… Fourth Fleet, Circa 2860?" he cited the moment in the Council year system, over forty years ago.
"Yes. A lieutenant on the Pegoda," Aberion eyes opened up a bit more. The medigel was doing its job, "I'm surprised you would remember me. I never even met you in person before."
"A, uh, report of yours came across my desk, all those years ago."
"One worth your attention?"
"The reason was less than flattering. It was riddled with errors, from outdated intel to spelling errors."
He chuckled and shook his head, "Oh, I see. I must admit, I have never measured to the level the Hierarchy deserved from its officer. Many have considered me to be of those who have become contempt with where they have ended up."
Junius shook his head, "I would say your actions today merit what, I still hope, is expected from the finest officers. One to be remembered for all to know."
Aberion nodded in thanks, "I appreciate that. I have loss finer officers stopping Caracalla, though."
"Fedorian still has you. A lot has changed since those days."
"Yes, yes they have… Admiral. Your return to the galaxy has been a rumor that spread like fire the moment the humans appeared. Opinions across the fleet and the military are rather divided. I can't help but see were those who shared the same opinion as Caracalla comes from."
Junius sighed, "I am… in no position to argue."
"But Admiral Junius. I do consider it a personal honor to meet and talk to you, if only it was of the best of circumstance. I am in no position to argue the uniform you wear. I can only hope the reason still reflects the man we all know."
Junius paused to think of what to say, "I… I hope so too, captain."
"Admiral Junius," Captain Aberion raised his arm and saluted him, "It has been an honor talking to you."
Both Junius and Admiral Woods saluted back, "And to you too. Your effort and determination here are a testament to you and your crew."
"Agree. It is the same for all the Hierarchy. I feel I should warn you of it, if the Terrans ever find itself fighting us."
"Captain. I know and understand very well."
Aberion nodded and leaned against the railing to rest a bit, "Shall we meet again on better circumstance. Belnargo out!"
The Terrans watched as the Turian ships followed the Belnargo. The relay moved into position towards the Alban Cluster and only a few moments later, they were off to Hierarchy space. Immediately afterward, ships began reporting in on the restoration of hyperspace technologies, ranging from radios to sensors.
"Bring us about and take defensive positions around the relay," ordered Woods.
"Aye, sir," responded George before he disappeared.
"He fought his own commander, his own crew to stop their mad plan," Junius commented, looking over new reports coming in as they watched new fleet positioning at the central command table.
"Yes, he did…" He closed his screen and turned to him, "Junius."
"Admiral?"
"Come to my ready room. Its time I told you what happen over Europa."
BBC: Telly-Documentary – Date: July 1, 2168
Ackerman – The Tragic Hero of the Revival
2147. President Vetrol has given his first State of the Federal Union address. He had promise to turn around the failing economy on Earth. The homeworld economy was in a system wide depression; Unemployment was high, resources were becoming scares, and radical groups, numbering in the hundreds of millions on Earth and the United Sol grew empowered by the day. On the homeworld, humanity was divided as racial, ideological, and religious groups readied to revolt. But across the Terran galaxy, humanity was united. A great revival in the ideas of tolerance, equality, and understanding united the colonies and the people, but only for them. Vetrol's call to help the homebound humans went unanswered. Humanity shall look outward. The humans on Earth were being left to rot.
But they would not go quietly into that goodnight. Terrorist struck the Martian Fleetyards, killing hundreds. In the panic, hundreds of radical paramilitary groups rushed to take what power they can on Earth. Many of the nation states on Earth were overthrown, and the federal government rushed to crush the rebels. But as Head Admiral Donnelley rallied the military to cut off Earth from the nation, one man stood up against him.
First Fleet Admiral Gabriel Ackerman stood up against Vetrol's disaster. A close colleague of Donnelly since their time in the American Navy in the 2080s, Ackerman was a well-known figure in the Navy. His accomplishments included spearheading the EX-Project in the 30s, to running the Military Academy for over a decade until his commission to Fleet Admiral in 2145. He was also a devout Bishop Firmist, being openly opposed to President Lin and President Vetrol and held political sway with those like Speaker of the House Degueller, a Nationalist. Training the finest officers, many on all the branches were loyal or at least well influenced by Ackerman.
As Donnelly stood by Vetrol, Ackerman opposed the president's move to blockade Earth with the Mirage Contingency. In an unprecedented move, he called openly to advoke the Cincinnatus Prerogative, to overthrow the civilian government and install Donnelly of the Navy and Gustaf of the Army as the leaders of the Federation. When this only further bolstered rebel groups on Earth, many military leaders blamed him, and Congress privately condemned him. Shortly after rebels captured Paris and Washington, and the first major protest began on Eden Prime, Donnelly ordered Ackerman's arrest.
Instead, Ackerman rallied his loyal First Fleet, backed by Admiral Woods and Marine Admiral Falaise. Moving from Pacifica, they broke through the Sol Blockade and allowed the first, and only few glimpses, of the rebellion on Earth. Though their move into the Sol system was bloodless, their time there wasn't. The Navy faced its own rebellion as the Sol Fleet and the First Fleet skirmished across the system. The badly spread out Sol, led by aged armchair commanders, stood no match for the First in full force of nearly ten thousand ships. All were led by the young and experience officers trained by Ackerman. Though army transports went unscathed, supply ships were raided, keeping the Rebel Fleet afloat as the Federal Fleet and Earth starved. When the Uranus helium refineries were captured, Vetrol ordered Donnelly to stop Ackerman once and for all. This came with the intel Ackerman was planning his most daring operation: Destroy the Sol Flotilla over the Charon relay, and broadcast the horrors of the Civil War on Earth to the galaxy.
The first full on fleet battle was the barely successful route of Ackerman at Pluto, the now infamous Battle of Space Jutland. Spreading the Sol Fleet of twelve thousand ships across fifty million kilometers, Ackerman's officers use of hyperspace radio devastated the Sol ships with instant coordination, while the Sol Fleet over-relied on light comms and QEC for battle communication. Donnelly lost two flagships and nearly a thousand vessels versus the few Ackerman loss. But Donnelly had new ships over Mars to reinforce his losses, while Ackerman couldn't afford such a loss and was driven away from the Charon relay.
With this strategic victory, Donnelly pushed Ackerman in-system, where more ships await to harass them. In this time, Ackerman was reported to have grown more unstable by his loss. Over a quarter million on both sides died over Pluto, and he had apparently blamed himself for it. When his officers convince him their rebellion had failed, Ackerman went over the edge. Gathering at Europa, he lured Donnelly into a trap between him, the moon, and Jupiter. He gathered his ships for a full-on attack, one that was sure to destroy the First Fleet, but badly damage the Sol Fleet.
But before both fleets engaged, Ackerman was dead. Admiral Woods, his XO and closest confidant on the fleet, launched a coup that ended Ackerman's command. Woods would be wounded in the coup but is rumored to have delivered the killing blow; Ackerman's cause of death is still classified. But with his loss, the rebellion was over. By then, the war on Earth, in spite successful operations, was nearly loss as a whole. And Ackerman's last, probably sane, move before the battle was using a hidden QEC to the exiled congress to report of his rebellion and the state of the war. It is believed to have a big role in prompting Vetrol to approve the Fallen Angels, as he now faced possible impeachment for letting the war end up as it was.
After the war, "Madman" Ackerman was cast as a villain by the government during the Reconstruction Era. Many in the colonies disagreed and it fueled the Great Dissolve movement. Woods and many others faced charge of treason, but the loss of so many officers and their poor performance pressed the Lee Administration to pardon them, in exchange for continued service. In time, Ackerman's name was slowly vindicated, with Woods being awarded his First Fleet, a move very popular in both the military and civilian circles. His old friend Donnelly was criticized for his poor leadership, from poor skills to old age being blamed. But the ascension of Bowman into the Palace of Versailles is believed, and blamed, for his continued position as Head Admiral. For his part, Donnelly still views Ackerman's rebellion and death as his greatest failure in the war.
Today, his name is part of the main curriculum for cadets in the military academy as part of the ethics course, a course where "You always fail the first time around". A once joked about procedure since the Navy alone could destroy all human life across the galaxy with ease, let alone simply remove the civilian government; The Cincinnatus Prerogative is now heavily discussed in both military and civilian politics. With the clear power the military has, the idea of when and when not to use it, as well as the consequences of it no matter if it was declared rightfully or not, marks Gabriel Ackerman's greatest legacy to the Federation.
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Hello everyone!
Here is the next chapter as we explore some of the other character's reaction to the start of the Vendetta
As many look to a not so bright future on the horizon, the actions of the past will catch up to them.
We'll learn more of Junius' past, and more of the Great Revival from all the stories of everyone in it.
Next chapter, Jack Harper and Saren Arterius learn just how deep the Reaper Conspiracy have affected the galaxy,
and thanks to humanity, without the Reapers actually doing a thing.
See you than!
As always, thanks for reading and please feel free to review and comment.
I welcome all constructive comments, for I always aim to improve my writing!
If you got any questions or opinions to voice, always feel free to add it to a review, or PM me.
Always glad for feedback and responses!
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