1950 hours, April 26th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)
Cole thought the day's events over. He still didn't know just what to think about these new arrivals. He was trying to put his words down in a way the diplomats could use, but just couldn't seem to do so right. Either he felt he humanized the aliens too much, or after rewriting, felt he wasn't giving them the appreciation they deserved.
Eventually he gave up on that part of the review, and began writing down a list of important points.
They didn't trust artificial intelligences, but seemed fascinated with the way the UNSC created its AI. That was good. It gave the UNSC something to bargain with.
Their ships were small, but in enormous numbers. He wondered what this meant about their industrial capabilities, or the level of automation on their ships.
Their FTL speeds were slower than those of the Covenant ships, but many times faster than what UNSC slipspace drives could achieve. His ships could hit three light years a day if they travelled well-known routes and had a bit of luck. Their ships could hit fifteen light years a day.
And those FTL communications systems. An interstellar internet without lag. The idea boggled his mind. He knew ONI had been working on slipspace based superluminal communications, but their experiments had failed to bear fruit so far as he knew.
They probably already have it, but keep quiet about it He grumbled to himself.
And their home systems were beyond the galactic arm. That put them out of striking range of the Covenant fleet. Not their scout ships, but well beyond the range of any known Covenant armada. That created options. Factories and shipyards far behind enemy lines. A place to send refugees without crowding the Inner Worlds. Perhaps even research labs that couldn't be hit by the Covenant so quickly?
His mind raced at the possibilities that having allies like them could offer. They could turn this from a massacre, into an actual war. Make the Covenant bleed and stop their advance.
"Dove." He said, turning to the emitter in front of him.
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Anything new you've discovered while looking through all the combat footage Major Ross sent?"
"His report checks out with the combat footage he's sent. He's discreetly sent us a package of omni-tools for analysis. I'm currently examining their capabilities."
"Anything interesting?" Cole asked.
"There is some form of basic galactic guidebook on the device, which matches the one in the First Contact package we've received. The devices all appear to have had components removed, and data wiped. I am currently working to reconstruct this data. It appears to be parts of their "codex" going by data structure. But there are not enough fragments to reconstruct a full text. It appears to be the names of worlds and star maps.
"What is this "Codex"? Is it some kind of guide to their species?"
"It's a galactic encyclopedia on technology, ways of life, the structure of their society, as well as the identity of their species. It's quite complex. Too complex for me to say it is a fabrication."
"Thank you, Dove. I'll continue compiling my message to the Security Council. When you've finished your analysis, add the report to the file, then send it to the diplomats when they arrive, and to the next courier ship that leaves."
He returned to the missive he'd been writing. It was directed to the UNSC Security Council, as well as a brief summary for the diplomats..
"-It is my opinion that, in the event these aliens are speaking the truth, an alliance with them is paramount for the survival of humanity.
In light of all their efforts to aid the people of New Ghent, and their seeming willingness to cooperate, I have sent a group of volunteers to examine their nearest world and the human refugees stationed there, and I expect them back before the diplomats arrive.
The historical documents they have sent us are also extremely extensive and lacking in any inconsistencies or signs of forgery. They call this galactic encyclopedia "The Codex", and sent us a digital copy. This "Codex" is attached to this message.
In brief: Humanity needs whatever it can get if we are to stand a chance of surviving this war. I recommend cautious optimism when dealing with this "Citadel Council", but urge the Security Council to accept their offer of assistance if it proves to be genuine.
The technological advancements alone would be worth a battlefleet. Attached to this message is a list of all the technology that the forces of New Ghent have seen them use, what they have allowed us to use, and that which their leaders have informed us of.
-FTL drives capable of covering fifteen lightyears a day, compared to the UNSC's three.
-A superluminal communications network.
-An interstellar internet.
-Microfabrication technology capable of fitting into a gauntlet. This has been observed creating grenades, firing plasma blasts, bolts of Bose-Einstein condensate, or flash-forging combat blades in the field
-Fully sealed suits of powered armor for every soldiers. Abilities do not match MJOLNIR armor, but surpass Marine and ODST armor. Armor is fully vacuum capable.
-Some type of energy shielding that blocks kinetic impacts.
-Mass production of ablative materials.
I have put AI Dove, and all the analysts in my fleet, to work categorizing their tactics, capabilities and doctrines, as well as whatever we have been able to gather about their society. ONI agents assigned to the prowler fleet will continue discreetly interviewing surviving Marines on the surface of New Ghent.
Artificial Intelligence "Dove" is working through their first contact package and cross-referencing it with all the data we have managed to recover from the "omni-tools" they handed out to UNSC officers for use against the Covenant. They have not asked for them back, and my AI insists this is because the model appears limited. Some components and programs were removed and/or deleted. Data reassembly will take time."
He stopped writing and looked at what he'd been writing. He was deeply concerned this was a ruse. But the more information he got, the more unlikely that appeared to be.
Dove suddenly popped up again. "Captain. More Citadel ships jumped into the system. Seven thousand ships, unknown design. We are also detecting additional logistical support assets they have brought with them."
"Show me." He said.
The holographic projector displayed the two fleets that had moved into the system.
The ships in the first fleet were long and flat, but with smooth wings sticking out, all bristling with turrets, and with a large barrel in the front. They reminded him a bit of a mix between a shark and a manta ray. Three thousand of these ships took up position in the outer edges of the solar system.
The second group of ships all had some weird hole in the middle, inside of which a blue glow could be seen. There were four thousand of these ships, with a staggering amount of visual and design differences between them. No two ships were alike.
Dove spoke up again. "Unknown ships are transmitting signals of non-hostile intent. They claim to be salarians and asari respectively."
Cole couldn't believe it. Seventeen thousand ships, with such a wide variety of design types and builds. None of them looking the least bit based upon Covenant technology. Surely this couldn't be fake?
"Dove. Finish compiling my message and prepare to send it to the arrivals. I need to think about what we do next."
For the first time in almost twenty years, he actually had a bit of hope for tomorrow. He would put off his "retirement plan" for now. Not when there was actually a chance humanity could pull through.
Primarch Fedorian looked out the viewscreen at the newly arriving asari and salarian fleets. His time in this system was short, but it still felt good to at least oversee the creation of this bulwark against the Covenant in person.
He turned back to look at the other leaders in the conference room.
"I won't have much time to remain here much longer. My duties on Palaven await me. I'll wait until their diplomats arrive, and our alliance has been formalized. But before committing I want to know your opinion on these humans."
Aethyta spoke up first. "Stubborn. Very paranoid. But open:once you win their trust, they tend to open up. That's what the asari on Telvanis say as well. We need to be careful and not make them feel like we're backing them into a corner. But I believe that if we are honest and show our good intentions, they will open up to us."
Jondum Bau nodded. "Species-wide xenophobia ingrained by tragic events. But their society and social structures point at their natural state being quite friendly and agreeable. I believe that showing cooperation and friendliness would quickly see a societal change from them. Giving hope to the hopeless tends to do that."
Fedorian looked at the salarian. "About what you said about their AI. Did you mean it?"
"Quite so. The danger of AI is, by their nature, their lack of morality and the lack of an ability to program them directly or control their core programming. They can only be shackled. If these people have found a way to overcome these flaws, it presents a great opportunity for us. Anti-synthetic law should not apply in this situation in any case. It is one of our oldest and strictest laws, and could impede cooperation.
"Changing Citadel law is difficult. Especially one as deeply ingrained as our anti-AI laws. It could make negotiations difficult and lead to unneeded obstructions."
Fedorian understood what the salarian was hinting at immediately. "... But if we classify them as something other than AI, our existing laws do not apply to them, and we can decide as we see fit what to eventually classify them as." He smiled at the salarian. It was a good way to bypass a lot of political difficulties.
Aethyta nodded. "I agree with the salarian. The anti-synthetic lobby in the Asari Republics can be quite powerful. Doing this bypasses any difficulties."
Fedorian clicked his mandibles and nodded. "I'll suggest a temporary new classification. We bypass any political wrangling that could otherwise get in the way."
The salarian nodded. "I've sent edited recordings of our meetings to the diplomats, with an unedited one for the Council and our governments."
Fedorian nodded. "Then on to the last part of our meeting. Our next course of action."
The Primarch changed the hologram to one of the local star system. At the center was the Relay, surrounded by those systems that had been charted by scout ships. They'd mapped a bubble of roughly fifty light years around the relay, with New Ghent at the very edge of this territory.
"The turian fleet is setting up a network of pickets and strategic comm buoys as an early warning screen against any Covenant incursions. This system is quite strategically significant. It contains the captured Covenant ship, as well as a gas giant with an extremely strong magnetic field. Securing it as a discharge site effectively increases our operational limit to this."
Fedorian pressed a button on his omni-tool, and a sphere with a diameter of a hundred light years centered on New Ghent. "We're searching for relays, as well as other gas giants which can serve as good resupply points. According to readings taken by Karandis' fleet, the Covenant plasma projectiles are contained in magnetic fields. We believe that hiding in the atmosphere of a gas giant or a brown dwarf with a strong enough magnetic field could reduce the effectiveness of such weapons. We're mapping as many gas giants that meet these criteria as possible to turn into waystations for our fleet."
He turned to Jondum Bau. "That's where the salarians come in. We need more and better information about the surrounding star systems. Go far and wide, and map every gas giant and brown dwarf you can find."
The salarian nodded. "I will send out STG scout ships and add them to your scout fleets. We'll also continue placing more comm buoys as we have before. All rigged with nuclear charges, of course."
Fedorian nodded. The location of the relay as well as navigational data for the Citadel space had to be kept a secret from the Covenant. As per protocol, each turian omni-tool had been wiped of navigational data, as well as star maps. They couldn't keep the location of the relay a secret for long. But they could at least make it harder to find.
Aethyta's omni-tool activated. "The humans have assembled their observer team to head towards Telvanis. They've sent a dropship to rendezvous with the cruiser [i]Matriarch's Indolence[/i]."
Meanwhile on New Ghent.
It still smelled of death.
General Pallonis observed as squads of turian soldiers hefted another naked Sangheili body onto a large funeral pyre. The battle had been over for nearly a week now, but they were still finding new bodies that had to be burned. When the battlecruiser went down, it had fallen on what was left of the Covenant army, as well as their bases. They had been careful to not disturb the battlecruiser where it lay, setting up supports and lifting it gently in certain places, as well as digging beneath it to clear the area.
They kept finding bodies crushed to mulch beneath the rubble, and they all had to be burned to prevent disease.
It was a disgusting job, but it had to be done. Major Leonard Ross had asked the Citadel forces to do this, as his own would "not survive the stench." So instead turians equipped in fully sealed hardsuits with the olfactory sensors disabled were doing the cleanup. He observed with some disgust as large biodegradable bags with sloshing contents inside were placed on large pyres alongside more intact bodies.
Meanwhile the salarians were recovering as much technology as they could, carefully taking pictures and reconstructing technology on large Clawball field-sized slabs of white metal that had been set up to help the salarians identify and organize everything.
Major Leonard Ross approached from behind, wearing some type of heavy respirator. "They don't put this in the stories. Don't they?" he said mockingly. "Admiral Cole has sent down some ODST and Marine forces to help form a perimeter around the crash. I told them to wait until this cleanup was fully finished."
Pallonis nodded. "I don't blame them. This is disgusting work. There must have been thousands of bodies crushed when this thing went down."
The major nodded. "My engineers tell me they've almost got the water running again. They're laying down piping so you can clear this gunk away faster."
Pallonis nodded, turning to where his own Turian Engineering Corps were setting up support struts around the battlecruiser to keep it from shifting. "Cleanup is going well. But I would recommend against heading into this area without rebreathers and quarantine procedures."
The monotone voice of a VI went out across the local radio. "Undetonated plasma core detected beneath sector A-6, all A sector workers please vacate the area while bomb disposal arrives."
"Spirits!" Pallonis cursed. "This is the worst part. Some of the Covenant munitions and plasma cores didn't go off when the battlecruiser crashed. We're losing bomb disposal mechs and heavy lifting equipment faster than we can replace them. Not to mention the soldiers I've lost when a core went off near them."
"In any case, I was meaning to ask you something. Where has Lieutenant Commander Rickard gone?"
The major shrugged. "He left without telling anyone, but that's normal for ONI. He'll pop up again. I'm sure."
Pallonis thought this "ONI" sounded more and more like the STG, but with less oversight and a downright impressive amount of fear from the average human. Salarians respected and celebrated the STG. Humans feared and avoided ONI. It was something interesting to think about.
A salarian sprinted up to the both of them, panting when he reached them. He was covered in dirt, and had digging equipment on his back.
"General! We've found something beneath the battlecruiser. Some kind of ruin!"
Meanwhile on Telvanis
Rickard stepped off the ramp of the shuttle and immediately began making his way through the impromptu spaceport set up to handle the human refugees.
He walked up to the table where an asari was noting the names of every human refugee arriving on Telvanis. "Welcome to Telvanis, human." She said. "If you can tell me your name, I'll assign you to your new dwelling. If you need medical treatment, do remember to say so."
Rickard grinned internally, but made sure to keep up the appearance of the weak downtrodden refugee. "Franklin Conner." He said, nodding weakly and avoiding eye contact.
The asari placed a small device on the table. "Please take this omni-tool. It has the numbers of emergency services if you require any assistance. It also contains an electronic key for your assigned dwelling. If you need to find someone, just enter their name into the search engine of your omni-tool, and it will direct you to them."
He smiled, slid on the omni-tool, and walked out into the refugee camp. He opened the omni-tool and entered in a name.
"Michael Church."