Space.
That eternal void, beautiful to those who gazed at it from the surface of a planet, mysterious to ancient civilizations whose scholars wondered about its implications, and infinite to those few races that traversed its expanse.
Peaceful, quiet, and cold. The definition of a place in which life could not exist, yet the void begat life itself.
Captain Hadrianus Varilin, of the PFS Victrix, could not help but wonder, as the ancient warrior-scholars of Palaven did, as he gazed out the viewport of his vessel. The turian saw nothing but stars, and as his subordinates moved with a panicked yet disciplined energy behind him, Hadrianus pondered, and not for the first time, if the void would be his grave.
He gave a low sigh, with the distinct flange natural to his race, as he turned towards the Victrix's Sensor Operator.
"Baris, did they follow us?"
The turian in question, a young ensign no more than twenty-four years of age, hesitated for a moment as his eyes swept across the data in front of him. Having found his query, Baris muttered a low curse.
"Aye, Captain. I'm reading fifteen ships behind us. Looks like they followed us."
Hadrianus Varilin closed his eyes and hung his head. "How could they have? We made a blind jump!"
Another voice spoke from his left—Lieutenant Varius Aurelius, his navigator. "The Batarians are nothing if not crafty and devious, Captain. They must have tracked our jump, no way could they have followed us otherwise."
So this was it. The Victrix and its crew were utterly doomed, destined to die alone in the endless peace of space. Hounded by batarian vessels, with an FTL drive that was near death, due to their multiple previous jumps, and no way to possibly emerge victorious from any sort of brave last stand, as the aged Turian frigate would never be able to defeat fifteen batarian frigates and cruisers unless luck decided that the Spirits would come to his rescue this day.
Luck had never been on Varilin's side, anyways.
In most scenarios, Hadrianus Varilin would never choose to flee or run away—no, the Turian captain much preferred to stand his ground, despite all adversity. Unfortunately, that was out of the question this time. It was the simple matter that he held intelligence from an isolated cell of Salarian STG that would be vital to the war effort, against the Krogan and the Batarians—it was of the utmost importance that the intelligence dead-drop was relayed back to the Citadel, and the Turian Hierarchy, and, against all of his wishes, fleeing was the only viable option.
"I guess, then, that this is it. In any case…it was an honor serving with you all." It was with this statement that he addressed the rest of the bridge crew. Yet, all of the Turians in the room simply went on with their work—they had all accepted their fates.
Baris, however, noticed something on the scanners—a source of intense gravitational energy, stronger than general physics would deem normal or safe, and yet, it was familiar. The Turian navigator simply gave a light smile, before clearing his throat.
"Captain! I don't think the spirits are letting us die today!"
Hadrianus opened his eyes in shock, before snapping his vision back to Baris' screen. His eyes widened, before retaining the discipline natural of Turian militarism.
"Is this what I think it is, Ensign?"
"Aye, Captain. Seems there's a relay here, in the system. Curiously enough, it seems like it's already operational—even though this system has never been charted before."
Hadrianus simply looked back towards the bridge behind him, before addressing his navigator, Aurelius. "Helm! I want a full burn towards that relay, now! The Spirits have given us one last chance at escape, and by my father's honor we are not going to let this chance slip by!" The Victrix's Helmsman acknowledged the order, before setting the ship on a fast course towards the relay. The Turian captain smiled, but he knew that they were not completely in the clear yet.
Taking a blind jump through the relay would give the crew of the Victrix the best chance of survival. It was likely that this relay would have several partner relays, and if the turians chose one at random, it gave them a chance to escape the batarians, at least for a time. As long as the batarians did not choose the same partner relay to jump towards, then the Victrix would be given a sizeable frame of time to make repairs and escape back to Citadel space. If they did, however, choose the same relay on a whim, then…well, Hadrianus would simply cross that bridge when, no, if he got there.
There was also, however, the possibility that jumping through the relay would send the Turian vessel into rather undesirable sections of the galaxy. Another rachni incident, perhaps, or something worse—Hadrianus shuddered to think that there could be something worse out there than the dreaded rachni.
But the possible pros outweighed any possible cons—the ongoing war was their priority, and the intelligence the Victrix carried was vital—it could even tip the war in the Citadel's favor. Hadrianus had no idea what the intel could even contain, and he was afraid to ask the Salarians who had given it to him—who knew what twisted experiments the STG performed across the galaxy?
"How long until we reach the relay, Sarus?"
The helmsman, Coreena Sarus, briefly looked back at her captain before returning her focus to her screens. "At this speed, a few more seconds, Captain. I'm putting all I can into those reactors." Hadrianus simply nodded, before turning back to the bridge.
"Communications, send a ship-wide message—prepare for a relay jump."
"Aye, Captain."
With his orders relayed, Hadrianus simply looked out the viewport, watching as the relay rapidly grew in size. The batarian vessels were a ways behind the Victrix—they would make it, definitely. Their chances of survival, however, were not so certain.
If the Spirits bestowed luck on Hadrianus this one time, then he swore, by his ancestors, that he would remain a pious turian for life. The aged turian closed his eyes as the relay grew closer, and as the Prothean relic splayed out a long tendril of cerulean energy towards the frigate, he sent one last prayer to the Spirits.
Guide our souls, Spirits.
Captain Hans "Dash" Shepard of the RNS Crusader walked into the bustling bridge of the Hastings-Class heavy cruiser, a cup of coffee in his hand. The resident marine commanding officer on the Crusader, Colonel Vanessa Capet, had guaranteed the quality of the latest shipment of coffee beans to arrive in the recent batch of rations, a brand of "Firefox Dark Roast." Apparently. the coffee was from one of the United Earth Republic's breadbaskets, Firefox.
A curious name, perhaps, but who was he to judge the name of a colony? Hans frequently had trouble when it came to naming things—his wife would testify as such, as the middle-aged Navy Captain had failed to come up with "original" names for his two children. Poor John and Jane.
His wife had named his ship, having grown tired of his lack of nominal creativity.
Pushing such thoughts out of his mind, the stood in his usual position in the bridge, taking a sip of his coffee as he did so. Clearing his throat, Captain Shepard looked towards his Sensor Operator.
"Lieutenant , what's the status of the alien device?"
As he questioned Salvador, Hans Shepard looked out the small forward viewport at said device. It looked much like a tuning fork, with a pulsating sphere of blue energy concentrated in the middle. The object in question had raised a plethora of alarms when a UER science team had uncovered the device. Elements of the military had been scrambled immediately to reinforce the nearby colony, Antioch. After a long period of observation, a few UER scientists had discovered that the device required activation. The UER was, at first, incredibly wary of the fact that the device, nicknamed the "Tuning Fork," required activation, but recently, orders had come from the brass to allow the resident science team to access the Tuning Fork—of course, they were to be guarded by a notable UER naval presence. As such, the brass had seen fit to detach Battlegroup Autumn, a grouping of 14 vessels of various size and firepower. Hans Shepard just happened to be the Commanding Officer of Battlegroup Autumn.
Hans had originally inferred that this posting was a punishment, possibly redirected by the feared Office of Republic Intelligence, or ORI for short—heavens knew he had made quite a few enemies within his superiors, due to his tendency to make decisions that toed the line of traditional UER discipline and military doctrine—a statement that was, in and of itself, a minor underestimation of Hans' habits.
However, the senior Shepard of his family realized the true statement of his posting to the Tuning Fork—this was, quite obviously, an alien device, and thus proclaimed with loud bellows and bravado that humanity was not alone in the galaxy. A notion that, ultimately, rose fear—no, apprehension, within the UER's leadership. Thus, the leaders of the UER, most notably the Elected Council, knew that they would need a mind with creativity (barring Hans' lack of creativity in the naming department) and a large resource of strategic and tactical ability, and not just some ordinary run-of-the-mill "Loyalty Until Death!" officer who ran everything "by the book" and kissed ass to attempt to gain rank, and ultimately fail and be demoted to Girl Scout, because the United Earth Republic does not accept nor condone corruption by any means, and bribery is a pathway to "re-education."
But, again, Hans Shepard had gone off on a mental tangent. Joy.
Lieutenant Jose Salvador looked back at his Captain, before turning back to his readings. "The device seems to be stable, Captain. No odd frequencies, no unusual readings besides the enormous gravitational bullshit—nothing's even happened in the last day since the science team activated the relay."
Hans nodded, before looking down at his wristwatch—1560 Hours, Earth. His family would have finished lunch by now, and would be awaiting his bi-weekly video-call in an hour or so. Jane would likely be at the Veteran's Memorial in Vancouver for another half-hour on her daily visit at the Joint Naval Officer's Commission, and John would likely be at home with his mother, on leave from his schooling, since, after all, it was Summer Break for grade-school students back on Earth.
"Excellent, Lieutenant. Communications, get me Doctor Prateesh."
Within a few seconds, a screen popped up in front of Hans, revealing the olive-toned face of Doctor Mirriam Prateesh, the resident leader of the science team, aboard the RNS Affinity.
"Yes, Captain? You called?"
Hans took a moment to clear his throat, before addressing the woman. "Yes, Doctor. It seems that the device is still stable, besides everything that came with the activation. Anything unusual on your end?"
The Doctor's eyes brightened, and it seemed she was immediately filled with glee and excitement. "Yes, yes, yes, Captain Shepard! Some of us discovered some incredible things in relation to the device! Absolutely incredible, I just cannot wait to present it to the annual Science Coalition! Oh, this is just fantastic, the boundless possibilities of such a substance, the presence of another form of…oh this is just great!"
Hans frowned slightly before waiting for the Doctor to finish. "Doctor, please, I honestly don't care about your scientist get-together, or your chemical fantasies. Just tell me what you found."
Doctor Prateesh in turn glared at Hans, before looking down at a datapad. "Indeed, Captain. We've found two major things—one, the presence of a material unlike any other—massless, yet truly unique in its properties—and two, the fact that this device is, in reality, another method of Faster than Light Travel!"
Hans was confused—his brain was not meant for scientific matters—"Doctor Prateesh, what do you mean by another method of FTL?"
"Well, Captain, it seems that this relay is not the only of its kind—there are likely many more, and it seems this one has another "partnered" to it—that means that, if one were to somehow activate something within the device, you could theoretically "jump" between the two devices—a 'relay,' you could call it."
Hans took a moment to absorb the information, before nodding—at least the woman had explained it in layman's terms. Thankfully.
"Thank you, Doctor. Continue your investigations, Battlegroup Autumn will remain on standby."
The doctor nodded, opening her mouth to vocalize her farewells, when suddenly, a man cried out from the background.
"Doctor Prateesh! The alien device, it's activating, something's happening!"
Hans Shepard stared for a second, before realizing that something had to have activated the "relay" from the other side—something was coming through! "Doctor Prateesh, get your vessel out of the way, and retreat behind Autumn, we'll deal with this." The captain only waited for the doctor's brief acknowledgement before his communications officer shut off the vid-call.
"Communications, get me a line to the rest of the Battlegroup, now!" Hans waited a moment for the connection to be established before addressing the rest of the battlegroup. "Autumn, defensive formation, form a perimeter around our side of the alien device!" The various vessels acknowledged the command before moving into formation.
Within seconds, the rings held within the "relay" started to rotate faster and faster, before a blue ray of light zoomed into the space next to the relay.
"Captain, vessel inbound, came from the relay! Corvette sized, not much more information. It doesn't match with any known signatures or designs!"
"Look at this, Rickson, the ship's giving off huge gravity readings, way too much for a ship its size!"
"Captain, it looks damaged—seems to be running on fumes. Looks to be hits from a ship's main cannon."
The Crusader's bridge erupted into noise and cacophony, while Hans simply stared ahead at the ship in front of them.
Aliens? Now? It was already confirmed when we found the relay, but First Contact? And I'm at the forefront of it? What next, John forms a galactic coalition?
Indeed, this event was momentous, but, Hans had to tend to matters at hand first, and that seemed to be crushing the chaos the bridge had become. With a yell, the crewmen of the Crusader's bridge quieted down immediately, all at attention for their captain's next words.
"All hands to battle stations, relay the order throughout the battlegroup! Tactical, get me firing solutions on that vessel immediately, and raise shields! Communications, get me a line to that ship if possible, but stay alert. Sensors, analyze the vessel as much as possible, and relay the information to me. Someone, contact Colonel Capet and get her marine detachment armed and ready for any possible threats!"
The bridge was, at once, moving with activity, as the crewmen went to fulfill their orders. The various ships throughout the rest of Battlegroup Autumn did the same, angling themselves so that their main spinal cannons were aimed the corvette-sized alien vessel. In turn, the unknown ship stopped all movement, looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Captain, I've contacted the vessel! Patching you in now."
Captain Hans Shepard waited a moment, before his communications officer gave him the all clear. Clearing his throat, Hans looked straight ahead at the ship through the viewport.
"Attention, unknown vessel. You have encroached upon sovereign territory belonging to the United Earth Republic. Halt immediately, and disengage any and all weapons systems. Failure to comply, and we will fire upon you!"
It seemed harsh and isolationist, but thus was the UER's current First Contact policies—threats before diplomacy, and diplomacy before engagement.
And now, we wait for an answer…
Captain, we're reaching our destination, orders?"
Captain Hadrianus Varilin gazed out of the viewport, at the steady blue light that signaled the traverse across space. It had been a mere five minutes, yet the crew of the Victrix had traveled countless light years, and now they were reaching a place far off that no sentient being within the Council had ever gone before.
He didn't know whether to fear the unknown, or embrace it.
"Tactical, ready our weapons systems for any possible hostiles. Sensors, work to scan the area as soon as we're out of FTL. Let's just pray to the Spirits that they look down on us this day."
A few more seconds passed, when the Victrix suddenly lurched, and the blue light streaming outside of the viewport seemed to slow. Then, it all but disappeared, revealing the newly discovered space in front of them.
As well as a collection of unknown vessels.
Including those that were Dreadnought sized.
Immediately, the bridge's crew went silent as they stared straight ahead at the completely alien ships in front of them. They were arrayed in a defensive pattern, seemingly training their guns on the Victrix. The first thoughts that went through Hadrianus Varilin's mind were hostile and deadly.
The various vessels were utilitarian in design, with sharp angled edges and weapons and defensive measures set all over their hulls, without any care for aesthetics. And right now, those guns were pointed straight at Varilin's ship.
Suddenly, the Victrix's communications officer jumped at a light that appeared at his console. "Captain, it seems the unknowns are hailing us!"
"Patch us through, Ensign." If these aliens wished to communicate, then by his ancestors, Varilin would not risk angering them, even if the hail was destined to be a simple word before they annihilated the Turian military frigate.
After a second, the communications officer nodded, before a voice came through.
"Attention, unknown vessel. You have encroached upon sovereign territory belonging to the United Earth Republic. Halt immediately, and disengage any and all weapons systems. Failure to comply, and we will fire upon you!"
Varen tapped a few buttons on his console, before turning back to Varilin.
"Captain, we can't make sense of the language, but the VIs are working on attempting to translate it—I doubt they'll work however, it seems this is a completely new species we're dealing with."
Hadrianus Varilin took a moment to contemplate his choices. The aged Turian captain had no idea what these aliens were capable of, and he was hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned—there were at least fifteen of these alien vessels, some of which were over one kilometer long, and the Victrix was only a single frigate, wounded and weary. He knew what he had to do, and Varilin would hope that all would turn out well.
"Power down our weapons, but keep our shields up. We need to look passive, and our guns aren't helping in that matter. Comms, raise the ship that hailed us, and send a first contact package."
The respective officers gave their acknowledgements, and Varilin resigned himself to sitting back and praying that these aliens would not destroy the Victrix. Ancestors knew the Council didn't need more enemies.
It had only been a few minutes, but they had felt like an eternity, as the Victrix sat on the precipice of life and death. There had been no response from the alien vessels—Spirits knew what they were doing. Varilin had been pacing back and forth, trying to calm his nerves, and he could tell his crew were just as anxious.
Suddenly, Ensign Baris jumped in his seat, before turning to Hadrianus. "Captain! The relay's firing up, someone's coming through!"
Captain Hadrianus Varilin immediately felt grim—the batarians had managed to find the Victrix. By the second, the situation was deteriorating. Now, Varilin's ship was caught between a flotilla of aliens whose motives were completely unknown, and a wolf pack of batarians who wished or nothing but to blow apart the Victrix and recover the vital intel that the turian vessel was carrying.
And, once again, Varilin was caught in a dilemma. He had to power the Victrix's weapons, to defend itself from the incoming batarians, but it was likely the unknowns would take that action as hostile, and act accordingly.
Within seconds, Varilin was spared the choice, when the batarian vessels appeared en masse. Sixteen ships of various design and make, yet all had the same hallmarks of batarian creation—vicious, aggressive, and deadly. On the other hand, the alien vessels had started moving, in aggressive patterns, and were obviously taken aback by the new arrivals.
'Spirits have mercy,' Varilin thought. 'That this day turn out this horrible.'
Captain Hans Shepard had only waited a few moments, before the alien vessel's gravity signatures seemed to power down a bit. The ship then took what he assumed to be a passive stance, before halting all movement. A few seconds later, his communications officer took note that the ship was hailing the Crusader, and a video, of sorts, appeared on the Captain's tactical interface.
A series of scenes played, where Hans could evidently see what he assumed to be the alien species. Rough, avian, with mandibles and crests. More and more scenes played out, obviously meant to be diplomatic and neutral—but, most likely, sent to unknowns in the most extreme of circumstances. It wasn't long before an ensign remarked on it.
"Captain, it seems to be a first contact package. Species, homeworld of origin, all of the characteristics of a diplomatic package."
"I agree, ensign. Analyze it, take in as much as you can. In the mean time, keep watch on that ship. Communications, contact Antioch Command, and get them to relay a message to HIGHCOM—First Contact imminent, Battlegroup Autumn has no First Contact Packages ready."
Antioch Command were the colonial officials in charge of the recently founded colony of Antioch, in the Ajax System. It was the nearest colony, and the only colony in the system Battlegroup Autumn and the Tuning Fork were currently in. In effect, the United Earth Republic's Colonial Administration had deemed the planet worthy of a military colony, and, in the future, Antioch would be built up to become an indomitable fortress and eventual staging ground for the UER for future military and colonial developments.
Though civilian presence on the colony was low, there was already a marine Expeditionary Division planetside, awaiting reinforcements from a detachment of the UER Army. Furthermore, another Defensive Fleet was on its way to the Ajax System, as Battlegroup Autumn was only a temporary presence, in light of the Tuning Fork found at the system's fringe. If these aliens brought reinforcements, Antioch would be well defended, and already had a stable supply of reinforcements on the way. Thus, Captain Shepard was not worried about the colony itself—it could defend itself.
Hans only hoped that it would not come to arms with these aliens—he did not wish for an interspecies war between humanity and this alien species. However, if this situation did crumble, then Hans would be forced to destroy any opposition to the UER.
For the Republic, as they all said.
"For now, we wait, and pray that these aliens don't bring reinforcements and attack."
However, Hans' prayers would be shot out of the air, when the relay began sparking again—the rings that protected the blue energy started to rotate, faster and faster, until there was a flash.
Sixteen vessels appeared out of thin air, and Hans' hopes were dashed—the aliens had brought reinforcements, enough to match his own Battlegroup Autumn.
The ships were generally smaller, ranging from Corvette sized to Heavy Frigate sized, but they were ships nonetheless. Hans could only hope that they would not become aggressive.
"All ships, move in slowly, secure firing solutions on the new arrivals, and hold position in range. Do not attack yet, I repeat do notattack yet!"
As per Hans' command, the various ships of Battlegroup Autumn moved in, all the while tracking the movements of the new arrivals. The first ship has still done nothing—its weapons were not powering up, and it had held position, in a seemingly neutral way.
'Weird, the first vessel isn't doing anything…'
Then, Lieutenant Salvador cried out from his position, "Captain! I've analyzed the first vessel and the new arrivals—they don't seem to be of the same make. Captain, it's likely the first vessel was running away from these new ones, which explains the damage the first one bears!"
Before Hans could reply, one of the new arrivals fired upon the first alien vessel, and its shot seemed to ricochet off of a shield of some sort. However, before Hans could respond, the rest of the alien ships fired upon Battlegroup Autumn, with a large portion of the shots heading towards the Crusader.
"Helm, take evasive maneuvers, Tactical, ready the main guns. Brace for impact!"
Out of the fifteen shots fired by the alien vessels, four of them hit the Crusader. However, the majority of the damage was mitigated by the vessels' energy shields.
"Status report!"
A Lieutenant to Hans' left cried out after a second. "Shields are down to 67%, Captain! Superficial damage to our hull, nothing else reported. The rest of the Battlegroup are reporting the same, minor damage to shields."
Hans brought up his tactical interface, revealing his ship in relation to his Battlegroup and the enemy. Fifteen against sixteen, and it seemed the enemy's guns did moderate damage to the UER vessels. "Comms, orders to the rest of the Battlegroup, fire at will! Tactical, get me a firing solution on the largest ship, the Heavy Frigate analogue!"
"Medium Magnetic Cannons 1 and 2 are at 100% charge, Captain! Cannon 3 is at 56% and rising!"
Hans took a moment to glance at the target, before shouting. "Fire!"
Two of the Hastings-Class Heavy Cruiser's three main guns fired at the hostile ships, and the rest of Battlegroup Autumn followed suit. Hans watched as the ship the Crusader targeted was rocked from the blows, bounced slightly off course. The batarian vessels responded in turn, firing away at the UER vessels.
Captain Hans Shepard did not notice as the turian vessel slipped away in the confusion through the relay, hoping to complete its mission. He only focused on the battle at hand, which was going surprisingly well.
"Fire Raven missile pods 4-8! What's the status of our shields?" Hans bellowed out his orders, eyes glaring into the tactical interface.
"Shields are at 42%, Captain! Missiles are away, pods 4-8 are reloading and cannons 1 and 3 are at 78% and charing!"
A stream of missiles were fired by the Crusader, heading towards the largest of the alien vessels. The missiles impacted upon the vessel, and its shields seemed to fail.
"Tactical, fire cannons 1 and 3 when ready! Helm, bring us 30 degrees to port!"
The Crusaders's cannons bellowed out two large 275 ton slugs at the crippled alien vessel, and the rounds left large, burning holes where they impacted. A few seconds later, the alien ship's reactors detonated, causing a large, fiery explosion in space where it once was.
In response, several of the remaining alien ships fired upon a nearby Gladius-Class frigate, and the UER vessel was spun around, the impacts too much for it shields to handle.
"Captain! The RNS Parade has reported depleted shields! They're losing attitude control, and they've got multiple fires on deck!"
"Get them to back off and retreat, they're out of this fight for now!"
"Too late!" Shepard's Sensor Operator cried out. "Hostiles are firing another salvo! The Parade is dead in the water! Their main gun is offline, missiles are inoperable, and their torpedo bay is letting off radiation!"
Before Hans could aid the Parade, the UER ship seemed to crack down the center, and the ship split into two. The communications link to the RNS Parade went offline—they were dead.
'Damnit,' Hans thought. 'Good men and women of the UER are dead. These aliens will pay dearly for this…'
Regaining his composure, Hans looked back to the tactical interface. "Tactical, status on our weapons?"
"All three cannons are at 84% and rising, Captain," the Crusader's Tactical Officer responded. "Shields are at 37%, missiles are loaded in all bays, and our torpedo pod is ready to fire."
"Good," Hans replied. "Fire all three magnetic cannons, and fire missiles in pods 1-6! I want to see those aliens burn."
These aliens had infuriated Hans—the normally calm and collected captain had lost good men and women under his command, to a band of murderous aliens, who hadn't even attempted diplomatic ventures. The RNS Parade's commander, one Paul Tanaka, had been a good friend of Hans', and now he was dead.
The battle continued for a little while longer, until the aliens seemed to turn tail and retreat back towards the relay.
"Captain! The aliens are retreating, seems they've had enough of us!"
Hans smiled, as he saw the alien vessels disappear via the relay, before turning back to the bridge. "Status report!"
"Shields are at 14% and recharging, Captain! Superficial damage to the hull, and the crew has sustained minor injuries."
"Excellent. What's the status on the rest of the battlegroup?"
Hans' Communications Officer came to the call. "Battlegroup Autumn has sustained minor losses, and most of the vessels have taken minor damage throughout. However, the RNS Parade is lost with all hands, and the RNS Judicator and RNS Wayfarer are dead in the water—they'll need extensive repairs."
Hans looked down, closing his eyes in a silent prayer for the lost. After a moment, he reopened them, with a burning look. "How many of them did we take down?"
"Seems we took the aliens by surprise, Captain. They lost ten of their sixteen vessels, more than half their number, while most others took moderate damage. I don't think they were expecting us to be in this system in the first place, most of their shields went down pretty easily." Lieutenant Salvador, the Sensor Operator, gave a sigh. "Their shields must not have been fully charged when they engaged us. I don't think any future engagements will be as bloodless on our end."
Captain Hans Shepard took a seat, putting his head in his hands. "Get the Battlegroup back to Antioch after all survivors are found, we'll leave the aliens to rot. Comms, relay a message to HIGHCOM, hostile engagement with a third party of unknowns, need immediate reinforcement." Hans looked back up, gazing into space through the viewport.
"I think we've got a war on our hands."
CODEX:
Heavy Cruiser: The infantry equivalent of the RAF Navy.
Hastings-Class Heavy Cruiser: 1,100 meters long, 310 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Hastings
Specialty: Mainstay Heavy Cruiser, Medium Fire Support
Armaments:
Main Guns: 3 Spinal Mounted Medium Magnetic Cannons
Broadsides: 200 LGCs
Missiles: 12 Raven Missile Pods—5 each side, 2 front. 60 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 1 Fracture Torpedo Pod—1 front. 4 torpedoes.
Point Defense: 200 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Orbital Bombardment: 2 OB Mini Magnetic Cannons
Shielding: 15,000 kilotons
85 Spacecraft
1,950 Marines
Frigate: Most common type of ship in the RAF Navy. Escorts, screening.
Gladius-Class Frigate: 520 meters long, 155 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Gladius
Specialty: Mainstay Frigate, Light Escort
Armaments:
Main Guns: 1 Spinal Mounted Light Magnetic Cannon
Broadsides: 30 LGCs
Missiles: 6 Orion Missile Pods—3 on each side. 150 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 1 Fracture Torpedo Pod—1 on front. 3 torpedoes.
Point Defense: 45 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Orbital Bombardment: 1 OB Mini Magnetic Cannon
Shielding: 750 kilotons
25 Spacecraft
500 Marines
Magnetic Cannon: Used as ship-board weapons for ship-to-ship combat or orbital bombardment, this is the mainstay of the UER/RAF navy weapon systems. Powered by Rivers-Gauss/Coilgun mechanisms, they fire large slugs at low (compared to Citadel Race) speeds for high yield.
Heavy Magnetic Cannon—Fires a 5 ton slug at 450 km/s for 95.602 kilotons of TNT. Primary ship-board spinal-mounted weapon. Fires every 5 seconds.
Medium Magnetic Cannon—Fires a 5 ton slug at 325 km/s for 63.112 kilotons of TNT. Ship-board spinal-mounted weapon. Fires every 5 seconds.
Light Magnetic Cannon—Fires a 5 ton slug at 275 km/s for 45.187 kilotons of TNT. Ship-board spinal-mounted weapon. Fires every 5 seconds.
Medium Gauss Cannon—Fires a 2.5 ton slug at 300 km/s for 26.888 kilotons of TNT. Limited to Corvettes. Fires every 6 seconds.
Light Gauss Cannon—Fires a 30 kg slug at 400 km/s for 0.574 kilotons of TNT. Used on some vessels as broadsides.
Mini Magnetic Cannon—Fires a 1 ton slug at 150 km/s for 2.6888 kilotons of TNT. Orbital Bombardment. Variable fire rate.
Swivel Magnetic Cannon—Fires a 5 ton slug at 100 km/s for 5.975 kilotons of TNT. Knife-fight MagCannon. Swivels on sides of ship.
Point Defense Weapons:
Gauss Gatling Rifles: These point-defense weapons systems use the UER's traditional, beloved Gauss technology to fire 40mm through 80mm projectiles at insanely fast speeds. They are excellent in point defense, and can shred through light, and sometimes even medium, armor quickly. Best used against missiles, fighters, lighter classes, or wounded ships in knife-fighting range.
Missile Systems:
Missiles:
Raven Missiles: These missiles are the bigger of the two missile systems, and are much more powerful. They are fired in clumps, and are kept in moderate amounts in pods. They are quick, agile, and extremely hard to dodge if one's point-defense systems are disabled or sabotaged.
Orion Missiles: These missiles are the smaller of the pair, and weaker, but their advantage is in numbers and speed—they are extremely fast, and are fired in large masses that regular point-defense systems can easily be overwhelmed by. However, they have no agility whatsoever, and can be dodged by a moderately skilled helmsman at range. They are reserved for lighter ship classes.
Torpedoes:
Fracture Torpedoes: The only type of torpedo used by the UER and RAF, these torpedoes are usually reserved for medium or heavy ship classes. However, they are devastating, incredibly so, and can easily gut a Citadel race cruiser, and even a Dreadnought with enough torpedoes. They are extremely fast, but cannot change direction once in flight, and can only be kept in short supply on ships—the RAF Navy is advised to use them in dire situations, or in ambushes or surprise attacks—not in the brunt of an engagement. Marked by bright red tracers.
Author's Note:
So, this is my first Mass Effect based fanfiction, and I hope you all enjoyed it thoroughly. If there are any mistakes or corrections, either mechanical, technical, etc. please don't hesitate to tell me in a review.
This is the first chapter in a series of three that will premier this fanfiction. The next will be a timeline (urrrrghhh) and the last will, once more, be a narrative. Hope you enjoy.
However, I do wish for a beta or two, for two main reasons. First, one of my weaknesses in writing is dialogue, and for it, any writing in and around dialogue suffers to differing degrees. If someone could help me with dialogue in this story, it would be greatly appreciated. Second, I do need a Beta for any military technicalities, like rankings, naval crew positions, weapons, etc. Again, if someone could help me out in this respect, it would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks, and don't forget to review or follow.