Amaterasu, June 3, 2074
The attack happened at night.
The Batarian flotilla engaged what little defenses the planet had in space. Even though the destroyer and three patrol boats were outnumbered by the two frigates and four corvettes the Batarians had brought, it was still a fair fight, technological supremacy for the americans making up what numbers did not. But the fight against the warships made impossible for the defenders to notice that, on the other side of the planet, a swarm of slaver's barges was descending into the planet.
Ashley Williams couldn't hear the explosions of the space battle raging thousands of kilometers away from there, on the orbit of her planet. But she was startled when the first, distant, sounds of ships reentering atmosphere started. Soon enough, sirens all over the colony started blasting the alarm everyone knew what indicated: Batarian attack. She jumped out of her bed and started to change from her pajamas when her father came barreling trough her door. "Ash, grab your pistol and a rifle, you need to go hide with your sisters".
Ash was only 16, but she had the training to just do what her father told in a situation like this. Growing up on a frontier world with a military family meant training and drilling long before actually joining the force. So, she did what she was told, she got her prized M1911, a gift from her grandfather and went to the garage to grab an old M16 her father kept in store. Her little sisters were bundled in the living room, eyes wide with fear and quiet whimpers being soothed by her mother. Her father finally got inside the house; he was probably trying to reach Mr. Daniel from the next farm over the short-range radio they had. Looking at her, he said, commanding voice of a senior officer: "Ashley, grab your sisters and go hide in the barn, your mother and I need to check in with the neighbors, they are not responding".
Just then, the sound of gunfire and explosions and ships reentering atmosphere grew louder and louder, they were attacking the cluster of farms that made up her neighborhood. "Go, NOW" ordered her father, and so she did, without protest, without hesitation, she took the three kids entrusted on her and went to the barn. She could see the floodlights from the ships, searching for the precious slaves they came to steal, she could hear barks and shout at a foreign language, menacing like a rabid dog, she could smell the burning wood.
And they hid, they stayed silent as shadows, even when the sound of gunfire and explosions grew closer to their home, even when she could swear, she heard her father screaming in pain and her mother screaming his name. Her screams stopped, and her mother was silent, just like they were, silent and hidden, waiting for the night to leave and, with it, the monsters it had brought upon her home.
When morning came, she decided to leave the barn, but warned her sister to stay inside. She could no longer hear the sounds or smell the smells of the previous night. Now, standing on the wet grass, rain washing away the tears that started flowing from her eyes, she could only hear the gentle tapping of rain drops on the ruins that were once her house. She could only smell the burnt wood, still smoldering at some places. Getting closer, she saw two bodies laying on the grass, heavy pools of blood being washed away by the never-ending rain. Approaching the figures, she saw what in her heart she already knew: her parents. They had died confronting the Batarians, making sure they thought that they were the only ones, giving her and her sisters a chance.
Ashley felt the need to vomit, how had she been such an idiot, such a coward. There was no chance her father would try and reach Mr. Daniel, he lived to far, the car would bring too much attention. She should've stayed with them, fight with them, maybe, maybe…. They'd had a chance if she wasn't such a coward maybe they would have a chance.
Her musings stopped when her baby sister, no older than 4, tugged her sleeve. "Ash, why is papa and mama laying on the grass? Their clothes will get dirt". She couldn't afford to be a coward once more, so she steeled herself, wiped the tears from her face and turned to her baby sister. They needed their big sister, and now their big sister was the only thing left for them, so she would delivery.
When the first elements of Colonel Ricco's task force managed to arrive at the Happy Goats neighborhood, what they found was… a war zone. The district wasn't much more than a collection of farms and a central village where, presumably habitants could trade their harvest and buy some necessities, either personal or for their farming equipment. The village also contained a school, a small bar, and the local precinct, manned by no more than four guys at any time.
The Batarians knew where to attack first, so the precinct was massacred with bullets and rockets and grenades. None of the four officers inside survived. From there on, it became a standard snatch and grab operations: pick as many slavers as you can and get the fuck out before the main Colonial Brigade shows up.
As it turned out, by the time Batarians ships retreated from combat against the colonial authorities, their slavers barges were too far away for them to do something about the slaves. Not to be deterred, the captain of the destroyer orders a full attack on the frigates and corvettes, ensuring that America would have at least one victory today.
As they were going from destroyed farm to destroyed farm, one of those caught Captain Rico's attention. The barn was still standing, and he was certain that he saw movement inside the place. He mentioned two of his guys to cover his flanks, weapons ready and he himself unholstered his pistol. Slowly they approached the barn's door, until the moment where he tried to open it, as he had to duck for cover as his reception party involved a salvo of assault rifle fire. Putting his hands in the air, Rico screamed "Don't shoot! We're friendlies!"
It appeared to have worked, as no more shots were fired from the now very messy barn. The girl with the rifle took a step up and some soldiers tried to train their weapons on her. Captain Wooldridge quickly defused the situation, asking the girl "Who are you, are you hurt? We are American soldiers, kid, not here to harm you"
With that, the child-soldier appeared to flip a mental switch from "feral" to "normal". She dropped her weapons and immediately hugged the captain. Between heavy sobs and an uncontrollable wail, she recounted the tale of the past night, and how her sisters were still in the barn. Wooldridge had no choice but to try and comfort the poor kid. Out in the corner of his eyes, he could see their soldiers bringing three other kids, unharmed, to safety
White House Situation Roon, Washington, D.C, June 3, 20744
The room was once more filled with various people and the mood was even worse than in a couple of hours earlier. Communications with Amaterasu were reestablished halfway through the journey from Aldrin to there. Local leadership was recounting what happened during the attack
"They never targeted our biggest cities, nor our port facilities, or resorts or retirement condos, they went straight to the small villages and farms, each barge targeting one of these villages. The fleet defending was too busy engaging a numerically superior force. Our only hope was the Regiments of Colonial Guards stationed all over the planet, and even they took time to arrive at more remote locations. Locals armed with old guns became our last lines of defense. They fought valiantly, but could not hold the hordes of pirates"
'And about casualties?"
"The Batarians hit simultaneously 8 of these farm-village clusters, each one had, on average, 1300 inhabitants. Unfortunately, we estimate 800 dead, 1600 wounded and at least…." He took a deep breath before continuing, "at least 8000 captured"
The room was sunk in an ocean of desperation, lightning strikes of rage occasionally breaking the all-consuming blue. They had presided over the worst slaver raid in the history of humankind in space.
"Did we at least make it costly for them?" Asked the president
"Their combat fleet was wiped out, if our estimates for crew are accurately, it means some 300 dead batarians in space and two frigates and four corvettes lost. On the ground we counted so far 500 bodies, mostly near the Colonial Guard's starting positions"
"We desperately need for the UN to finish their shipbuilding contracts." Said a very tired sounding Vice President. "They are costing us two carrier battle groups, and another two carriers solo"
"And we desperately need more escort ships. What we have is barely enough to equip every carrier we have with a battle group. We need more cruisers and destroyers" said the Secretary of Defense
"And how are we paying for this? We already pay maintenance fees for our own ships to the UN, now they want more money to start building more ships, and you want an increase in the Pentagon's budget to go on a shopping spree?" Practically screamed the Secretary of the Treasury
"Jesus, control yourself man, remember, if we give them what they wanted, they will lower what we need to pay. I say, we give them two carriers, with all their equipment and planes, and call it a day for the next, I don't know, 5 years or so. The money we'd save from this is the money we spent building more escorts" said the Secretary of Defense
"We'll be playing a most dangerous game, ceding our carriers to our rivals. Not only we reduce our readiness by not having these vessels, but we practically invite them to reverse-engineer them" said the normally stoic Director of National Intelligence.
"We can barely equip eight strike forces, let alone 14. If we just offload two of our old designs, we can focus on making sure every carrier is surrounded by escorts, and not just a very big and defenseless target. A well-placed shot from a euro cruiser can gut those things. As for their tech, our ships don't use anything Europe or China or even Russia and Brazil don't know how to do. The main piece of tech we have are electromagnetic catapults to launch planes, and we've been using it since our ocean navy days. It's not like a euro battlecruiser with their super-secret cannons"
The president intervened, not wanting to lose sight of solutions that would take less than a couple of years at best. "And what can we do in the short term?"
It was once more the Chief of the Joint Chiefs of Staff who gave the poor woman the usable answers. "We can increase ground defenses in these planets, send a battalion or a brigade to be ready to move anywhere with VTOLS and Helicopters. Install some anti-ship missiles and cover the place with AA guns. Those kinetic kill interceptors we used back during the First Cold War can do a mighty damage on a slaver's barge. Also, I agree with the Secretary of Defense, selling 2 of our oldest carriers to the UN will create budgetary space to build more destroyers and cruisers."
"All right then, we can do those things, anything else?" Said the president
The representative for the intelligence agencies straightened his back and started to talk. "A very important topic in fact. The raid was conducted on a, shall we say, perfect window. The main body of our strike force was positioned in Gagarin system, and the patrols we have were on the other side of the Cluster. Now, this patrol's schedule is a deep guarded secret, as to not make easy targets out of lightly-defended planets, like Amaterasu was. It, then, begs the question, how did the Batarians knew? I doubt it was simply good luck"
Omega Station, Omega, three months before the Raids
A Batarian covering his face in a hood slowly approaches one of the newest shops in Omega. A human man decided to sell old human weapons, mostly military hardware, and became a fad among the station's inhabitants, always in need for a new gun or three.
A turian was mesmerized by the classic soviet rifles, running his talons over an ancient AK-74, careful not to leave deep marks on the wood. An asari was looking at the selection of pistols, taking interest in an old revolver. The big krogan was grinning while he tested the weight of an Oerlikon 20mm autocannon. A salarian drooling over an Igla anti-air launcher.
The Batarian wasn't there for the weapons though. The other, arguably more important, thing the human sold was information. Approaching the stall he made a beeline to the owner, ignoring the rows of weapons everyone else was busy looking.
"Ah! Another costumer, are you looking for a new gun? I assure you, even though my wares are old, they can still pack a punch. Human weapons have not changed much since the early 1900's"
The Batarian ignored the sales pitch, but rather, spoke the line he was supposed to, to make the guy understand he was there for info, not weapons.
"The empire, long divided, must unite; long united, must divide. Thus, it has ever been"
"Ah, a fellow reader, I see, say, why don't we take our business to my offices?"
The Batarian followed the man to the back of his stall. They entered a dimly lit room, illuminated only by the troves of screens on the walls. Piles of paper lay strewn all over the desk, and the faint smell of something just burnt permeated the room.
"The romance of three kingdoms, a classic, very… fitting for the current state of the galaxy, don't you think?" asked the human.
"I never read it, I just repeated the password given to me" answered the Batarian, dryly. He didn't want to waste time on small talks.
The human grinned and took a seat on the far end of the room, gesturing for the Batarian to do the same on a chair nearby. "So, let's skip the pleasantries then, business it is. Tell me, Mr. Balak, what information do you want to know?"
Balak was taken aback. He took precautions to arrive unannounced, but figured it only showed the abilities of the information broker that the man knew his name. Recomposing himself, Balak spoke. "I need the schedule of American patrols on the Armstrong Nebula. I know their main force there stays near the relay, and a detached force patrols the other systems regularly. I want to know when the Amaterasu system will be the least defended"
The info broker face was difficult to read. Partly because Balak wasn't used to human facial expressions yet. "A tall order, Mr. Balak, it will cost you a small fortune, are you willing to pay?"
Bahak produced a folder from a pocket inside his jacket. Top secret documents containing test results of a weapons designed to counter Chinese torpedoes, "acquired" from a captured Turian near the Terminus border with Asari space. "Ah, I believe this will be enough"
The human grinned, "indeed it will, Mr. Balak". He proceeded to print, actually print in paper, a bunch of documents from his computers, and, putting them inside a folder, passed the package to Balak. "Have a good day sir".
Balak sighed, he'd have to translate those documents to Batar, his native language. Humans could be more paranoid than salarians, using actual paper to pass sensitive information and, if a turian on a bar could be believed, ordering those papers to be burnt after reading. He took his package and left.
Kai Leng couldn't believe his luck. When he heard a Batarian wanted info on american colonies, his superiors ordered him to provide it, as a Batarian raiding party was the perfect deniable asset. Eroding trust in the American government on the fringes of space was of paramount importance to his bosses. And his payment came in the form of test results of weapons designed to counter Chinese missile technology. His bosses would be happy indeed….
A/N: Who's Leng's boss? The Chinese? Someone else? Remember we haven't heard of Harper since Shanxi, and that was years ago. Scenes for the next chapters…
Also, Ash will have a quasi-colonist background here, but her family's name will be a burden because they will be hailed as heroes of the colony, saving their daughters, and killing Batarians. She thinks she's a coward for not helping. Sins of the father indeed…
Anyway, time for omake!
Quarian EDM star will be the headline of this year's Tomorrowland
CNN Europe
When Tell'Hetar nar Qwib-Qwib found an ancient looking keyboard, he didn't think much of it. "I thought it was a primitive interface for computers, you know. All those keys and buttons and turning knobs, I ended up buying it, trying to understand the thing. I was on my pilgrimage and needed some hobby to pass the time, and it was pretty cheap". But for his surprise, what he had found was actually a classic Mini Moog synthesizer. "I was pretty impressed! I really like music, especially electronic music, but here in the wider galaxy we'd been making electronic music with holo interfaces for centuries, seeing a physical contraption to do so was just incredible"
Mr. Hetar started learning how to play the Mini Moog and adapting some old quarian songs to it. When he posted it on the extranet, he became an instant celebrity. People really loved my songs, and it inspired me to do more authentic things, not just covers"
He has since become a rising star in EDM music, with hits like "Midnight Rannoch" and "Electric Krogan". Now, he will be playing on the biggest EDM stage on Earth. "I'm shocked, really, I found the Moog when in Pilgrimage here on Earth, to be able to come back now as an artist, is a once in a lifetime opportunity"