Chapter 5: Unknown Ship
Author's Note: Six Samurai of Dragon Order did a video review of this story. It's available on youtube at uqnRrCC8QQI. To address his main issue, the characters in the tags (Tali, Wrex, Shepard and Joker) will start showing up in Chapter 8, when we jump to the present.
Semmi stood on the floor of Shellen, the only person on that floor not wearing a suit. Three hundred of his fellows were there. Leaders of every political group of the Conclave, all the admirals, representatives of each of the surviving religions, two dozen medical doctors and three times as many doctors in other fields. The Shellen had been chosen as it was the only Liveship whose captain wasn't connected to him and the Zorah family in some way. The Fleet's best effort at neutral ground, not that it was very neutral, everyone knew everyone at his level in the Fleet.
The Humans had wanted to send someone along with him. The news of the arrival of the Migrant Fleet had triggered all their paranoia and within ten minutes of the Fleet taking up position around Earth the Quarian status had shifted from 'noble allies' to 'presumptive invaders, probably in league with the Ethereals.'
Still, Semmi had convinced the Humans to let him go alone. It was a little embarrassing that he'd convinced them far more easily than he was convincing his own people. The debate had been raging for hours, between those who wanted to run off with the knowledge they'd already gained and those who wanted to stay and fight.
Still, the plain fact that they didn't know how Meld was made, or how they could make more of it, was carrying the day, along with the potential for more discoveries as more and larger Ethereal craft continued to appear.
The traditionalists were desperate to leave so as not to lose momentum towards their ultimate goal of reclaiming Rannoch, but with the possibility of suitless existence right here, that dream was fading in importance, especially as the fleet was currently in the midst of one of its periodic limitations on reproduction. Open worlds meant that limit would disappear. The more realistic amongst them realized that meant they had a shot at building up their forces to the point where retaking Rannoch was actually feasible. The most realistic realized that it probably meant that they would never bother, why fight for a lost homeworld when you had a new one to build right here?
The militarists were split. The whole reason for their existence was to fight, but they wanted to fight the Geth. However, they couldn't turn their back on this fight, not with one of their most prominent members dead on the field. Niva's sacrifice bore weight in the Conclave, just as it had on Earth. He wondered sometimes if she'd understood the politics of that sacrifice, or only the strategy of it…
The pacifists were equally split, as they didn't want to fight, but did want to settle somewhere and didn't want to watch people be massacred.
The scientists wanted more breakthroughs and more time with the new science which was being discovered every day. But they also wanted to not be shot at while doing that. The vote was close. Embarrassingly close. But in the end, they agreed to stay and ordered the admirals to defend the planet.
Then came a moment of truth, which passed when the admirals accepted that order, rather than reject it and resign.
Ten minutes later, ships were scattering from the planet like shrapnel from a massive explosion. Some raced towards Jupiter to begin construction of refueling platforms. Others headed towards the asteroid belt to begin mining resources. Still others took up position to defend the Liveships, while the Liveships themselves prepared to act as artillery platforms. The Patrol Fleet was dispatched to scout the surrounding space, focusing on their best guess as to the direction the Ethereals were coming from, while the Heavy Fleet took up position and waited for either information on the enemies' whereabouts, or for the enemy themselves to arrive.
And Semmi was sent back down to the planet, this time with a massive escort to begin negotiating more formal alliances with the powers of the planet. Well, those powers still in power. The leak of information regarding EXALT had done a great deal of damage to planetary unity and the constant attacks, even as they were intercepted by the Quarians and X-Com had left many planetary polities appearing powerless and ineffectual. The sight of more than one leader falling to Cyberdiscs or Sectopods which shed the bullets of the leader's guards like water, only to fall to the weapons of X-Com Soldiers, or Quarian Marines, left an impression on the people.
Codex: Supply Shortages During the Ethereal War, Unlocked.
It had taken an absurdly long time for the Fleet to even begin to move, as they'd been paralyzed with indecision until the news of the Meld treatment had broken. That had broken the deadlock and gotten the Fleet moving. Those months had cost lives and nations on Earth, and amongst the flotilla defending the planet. Fortunately, that information was mostly confined to the Fleet. The Humans believed it was merely a matter of the logistics of moving fifty thousand ships and eighteen million people across the galaxy which had taken so long and so the Quarians image as defenders of humanity remained intact.
For now.
Mostly.
Despite the delay, the vote was over, the decision had now been made and the Fleet was committed. Irrevocably.
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"It's not like they're irrevocably committed to defense of the planet," the Spokesman pointed out.
"It's better than anything we've had so far and they've provided significant stores of Element Zero. Shield production has quadrupled and we've begun construction of our own spaceships. Based on their designs, admittedly, but we're still far better off than we were," the Commander countered.
"How long before we have any ships actually ready?" the Spokesman asked rhetorically.
"Shuttles can be done within the month, but we're using Quarian hardware and software. Larger, interstellar, armed craft? Depends on if we just use their designs, or try to make our own."
"And what do you propose to say to people who ask about the fifty thousand alien craft in our system?" the Spokesman asked acerbically.
"They aren't shooting at us?" the Commander suggested.
"This is why the Council didn't want you to be the visible face of X-Com. Or for X-Com to have a visible face," the Spokesman continued. He was getting heavy pressure from the Council and passed it along to the responsible party, with added sarcasm.
"Yes, sir," the Commander agreed.
"I'll handle it. Finish this war, before some idiot manages to talk us into one with the Quarians."
"Seriously, sir?"
"You know your history. How long after the Allied Powers defeated the Axis Powers did the Allies turn into NATO and the Soviet Union and both groups to start pointing guns at each other?"
"Fair point, sir, but we can't eat the same food, or really seek to colonize the same planets. I'd think we could work with them."
"You'd think so, but we'll see. Finish this fucking war, Commander and we can see," the Spokesman concluded, swearing for the first time in the Commander's experience with him.
"Yes, sir," the Commander repeated.
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"In the course of this war, a hundred and thirty ships have attacked this world. Nine Migrant Fleet vessels destroyed more than half of those ships at a cost of less than half of their own number. Those were vessels of the Patrol Fleet, our reconnaissance and exploration arm. Now there are approximately fifty thousand Migrant Fleet vessels in this system. This world has never been so safe," Admiral Pol'Vega explained to the news anchor who sat across the overly shiny desk from her. None of the admirals had undergone the Meld treatment yet, nor would they, until there was some confirmation that it didn't have any unintended effects, so she wore her suit, despite the interview she'd been scheduled for.
"But the invaders can appear anywhere, with no warning," the anchor countered. The anchor appeared to have been chosen for his beauty, not his brains, as the questions were being fed to him by his earpiece, which her systems could easily pick up and he seemed hypnotized by his own reflection in her helmet. Still, he was very pretty.
"Fortunately, we're everywhere around this planet. And will remain everywhere until the Patrol Fleet finds the main body of the enemy fleet and we can destroy it."
"Some people might not find the idea of alien ships being everywhere comforting," the anchor replied after a moment's hesitation.
"Well, Paul," she winced internally at the man's name, so like her own, but absurdly assigned to a man, "I understand their concerns and if any of your nations wish us not to defend them, all they have to do is ask and we will stay out of their airspace. We have no interest in going where we're not wanted. However, the vote in the General Assembly was unanimous." Which was true, though Israel had had to vote by proxy due to…political issues and North Korea's representative had been recalled and executed for his vote, though the vote itself hadn't been withdrawn.
"Of course, of course, but," his eyes narrowed and she realized that he was going off-script as his words did not follow the transcript on her HUD, "that's not really the question. We're none of us so stupid as to turn away an ally when the enemy is battering at our gate, but I wonder what that ally will want when the enemy is driven off."
"Ask your real question, Paul," she said, watching the transcript of his earpiece grow more colorful, as well as more filled with capitalization, but he ignored it.
"What will the Migrant Fleet do after the invaders are defeated?"
"That depends on Humanity and the Migrant Fleet. If it were up to me, however? I'd hope we could settle nearby. Not on Earth, both because it's full and," she forced humor into her voice, "because we can't eat the food, but I'd like to be somewhere in the same system."
"Why?"
"We were alone in our war with the Geth, just as you were alone in your war with the Ethereals, before our arrival. I would rather neither of our people ever have to face such a threat alone. We are stronger together. Mexico City proved that. Dhaka proved that. Every engagement fought by Quarians and Humans against these invaders has proven that."
"And what do you say to those who claim that you are allied with our invaders and all this is a ruse to let you conquer us without a shot being fired?" he asked.
"I say that my name is Pol'Vega Vas'Levshepa. When Niva'Zorah was still Nar'Levshepa, my son went with her on his pilgrimage. He died capturing the Hatak with her," the Admiral's voice was dead-level. "After that, she was the closest thing I had to a child. The ship and the girl my son died for, fell defending Dhaka," her voice began to rise, "I will see those responsible for that dead, unto the last and least of them. Their voices will be silenced, their losses unmourned, their ancestors unrevered, their ambitions unrealized and their ships broken," her voice dropped back to its normal register from its furious tone. "That is what I would tell those who question our motives and intentions. And that is what we will show them. Together."
The anchor nodded, pulled to the inside of that 'we'.
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Semmi was hiding. Dr. Vahlen was working. This worked out well for Semmi, as the good doctor's lab, though always a good place to hide from folks, was an absolutely fantastic place to hide when she was working. Even X-Com's elite tended to avoid it, for fear (or in caution, at least) of the sounds, sights and smells which came out of the place when she was working. But it had been weeks since she'd needed to 'interrogate' or dissect any of the X-Rays, so their concerns were out of date.
Mostly.
A minor explosion came from where Dr. Vahlen was standing. Fortunately, the armored suit they'd adapted for her from its original purpose of keeping a Quarian alive could still do its job. Her two assistants, one Human, one Quarian, were far enough back not to be caught in the explosion and Vahlen herself was unperturbed by the explosion. Semmi was not. "How could there possibly be an explosion? You're doing genetics research, aren't you?"
"Meld," she said, as if that was an answer. Then stepped back and brushed off her suit, twitching a hand towards the remote, rewinding the television in the corner by a minute or so. She always kept a television on as she worked, Semmi assumed it was to provide background noise. He used such things himself, though mostly to sleep (after growing up on a ship, even with the air circulation system, the X-Com base was disturbingly quiet). As usual the television was tuned to one of the Humans 24-hour news programs.
"That's not actually an explanation," Semmi noted quietly.
All three of the scientists turned on him and, he assumed, glared at him through their protective equipment. "Yes, it is."
"Okay, okay," he held up his hands defensively. "I didn't come down here to pick a fight."
Vahlen turned back to the television. "She did well," she noted, addressing one of his interests, as she'd been taught was courteous.
Semmi glanced up at the screen. It was a repeat of Admiral Vega's interview. "Of course she did. Admiral of the Civilian Fleet? She's got as much practice politicking as anyone and she's practically part of the Zorah family. Good choice by the Conclave."
"She was chosen for her familial connections to the dead?" Vahlen asked as she was taking a seat before a console and getting back to work.
"Amongst other things. The Migrant Fleet isn't leaving first contact up to chance." Vahlen nodded politely, as did her aides, caring far more about the work they were doing than the problem with his statement, but he corrected it, eventually. "Well, not for the second part of the first contact."
"That's nice," Vahlen said, trying to conceal her absolute disinterest. She didn't try very hard. Nor did she succeed.
Before Semmi could respond one of the Quarian aides entered the lab, as she'd come with Migrant Fleet and didn't understand why she should have avoided the lab. "The representatives of Australia and New Zeeland are here to speak with you regarding landing zones and flight patterns. The Indonesian ambassador is also here and insists on speaking with you before you speak with them."
Semmi drew himself up and forced his face back into its calm mode, with rather a lot of difficulty. "Of course, of course. Let's get back to work…"
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"Twenty ships, two light-minutes out. Fourteen battleships, six larger transports."
"Back to FTL, get us clear," Captain Tial'Raan Vas'Kilop snapped.
They dropped out almost two light days away, less than a minute later, flipping over and firing the main engines to slow down so they could return to Earth with the location of the Ethereal fleet. It was the largest one yet encountered and the first one to contain more than one battleship.
They were approximately ten light days out, a single frigate, one of hundreds spreading out along the arc by which the Ethereals approached the Migrant Fleet (and Earth). Reversing course would take almost an hour. A sharp order had his comms officer working on putting together a package with the full analysis of their sensor readings of the enemy squadron to provide to the Fleet.
They needed to get word back. If the Heavy Fleet could get back before the battleships scattered, they'd smash the squadron and cripple the enemy. There was a rush, but no danger as the enemy left behind had no idea where along this trajectory the Quarians had dropped out of FTL.
It was therefore something of a surprise when an Ethereal scout ship turned up ten light minutes out. It saw them at the exact same moment as they saw it. Since the scout ships could only jump once every hour or so and had a strictly limited range, that meant two things. First, they were in no danger until the ship either closed the range, or jumped away to provide their location to the enemy and they were either horribly unlucky or there was a massive enemy force in the area. Massive enough to search for them.
They still had time to complete their turnaround before the enemy could either close, or escape. It was, therefore, a complete surprise when a battleship turned up less than a light-second from their position and a fusion blast shattered their engines and the rear half of their ship, punching through shields like they weren't even there.
The weapon was so powerful it didn't even shake the ship, vaporizing the frigate's light armor, hull and engines alike, with no difficulty. Most of the ship's power generation was lost, lights died, along with systems as atmosphere escaped the ship until the emergency bulkheads snapped shut, operating on battery back-up.
A burst of noise filled the deck as the crew shouted information about how terribly damaged the ship was. The realization that his ship and crew were dead came as the captain also realized, at last, that this meant that the enemy must have some unknown means of FTL communication. That had been suspected before now, he remembered, a moment too late for it to do any good.
Codex: FTL Communications Technology, Unlocked.
Artificial gravity was gone, but seatbelts held the crew in place and mag boots kicked to life automatically as his bridge crew did their duty and he forced himself to do his.
"Broadcast a report to all rendezvous points and Earth," he commanded the communication's officer as the lights came back on, auxiliary generators were powering emergency systems. Fury and pain screamed in his mind, but he ignored that. "Full sensor sweep as well."
"The battleship is closing," a sensor tech informed him.
The captain closed his eyes for a moment, he remembered the briefing. The battleships were smaller than dreadnoughts, but larger than cruisers. His little frigate wouldn't have stood a chance, even if half of it and probably more than half his crew hadn't been vaporized.
"Half the communications' lasers are gone and half the remainder are fried. I can get maybe two to bear on rendezvous points without navigation and even that's going to be spotty."
"Prioritize location and size information on the enemy forces, then everything else," the captain commanded, then turned to the sensor tech. "Why aren't we dead?"
"Battleship only fired one shot. It's closing at sub-light speeds. It appears to be maneuvering to board us."
"Weapons?"
"Auxiliary power isn't sufficient to power the GARDIAN array. Or the bits of it we still have, sir."
"Marines?"
"Maybe ten left alive. They're arming the surviving crew from the fore armory and taking position around the remaining airlock," his executive officer reported.
The captain took a single, calming breath. "Self-destruct?"
"Gone, sir," his XO reported.
"Time to enemy arrival?"
"Twenty minutes, sir," the sensor tech explained.
A touch to his omni-tool and he was connected to the senior marine officer whose information flashed on his HUD. "Sergeant. Prepare explosives to blow the ship when the battleship docks with us. If you could destroy it as well, that would be good."
"It'll take time sir. We'll have to fabricate most of the explosives and only a few of our people have the necessary programs. We're also short on omni-gel."
"We've got a few thrusters but we'll do what we can to get you the time you need, one way or another. Get moving."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Give us some spin. Make it harder to latch onto us."
"Aye, aye, sir," the pilot agreed, abandoning her efforts at damage control and reaching for the controls to activate her few remaining thrusters.
"We'll lose the line-of-sight for the comm-lasers if we do that," the communications officer interjected.
"Thank you for the reminder. Hold off until they're two minutes out." Two minutes would give even the few working thrusters enough time to build up a spin which would make docking extremely difficult without making it impossible to move around (though it would mean the crew had less time to adapt to the change in motion).
"Aye, aye, sir."
"We're going to need more time, sir," the marine sergeant said, having done the math. "At least fifteen more minutes if we're going to make sure there's nothing left of our tech or databases," she swallowed, "and as little as possible left of our bodies."
"We don't know how they'll handle our spin, but you have absolute priority. Reassign any crew necessary to complete the task."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Minutes passed interminably as the bridge crew thinned out, moving to new locations throughout the ship and the remainder did their best to reroute the remaining power to the two systems they needed to keep active. The captain squirreled away enough power in the battery back-ups to blow the atmosphere out when the enemy bordered. All the crew were wearing suits and while usually those just screened and filtered the atmosphere, they all had a sufficient air-reserve to keep them functional until the ship was scuttled, while the Ethereal's troops did not usually wear any space suits.
"We still need eight minutes," the sergeant informed him as the thrusters flared to life. The captain transferred what functions remained to his omni-tool and those of the remaining officers, then headed towards the airlock after retrieving his pistol from his command chair, where it had remained for the five years since he last drew a weapon in anger.
There'd been two hundred Quarians on his crew. Men and women who he'd known for years, recruited, trained with, lived with and laughed with. Thirty-one survivors filled the corridor around the airlock, hefting the scavenged weapons from the armory. His eyes flickered over them, he knew them all by sight, even with their almost identical suits. He saw the fear and the determination in the lines of their bodies, in their movements, in the hushed conversations from the tiny groups which formed in the halls.
At least they'd left the children behind on the Rayya, as they usually did when going out on patrol. The Liveship had the most excess capacity and her crew would care for the children of those who had fallen. The Fleet would take care of his daughter.
He took his place in the front rank. The suit he wore was the masterwork of the ship's engineers. Their own suits had also been advanced models, modified to have enhanced shields, just as their omni-tools had been improved. Unfortunately, they'd been back with the engines and the best suit in the world couldn't stop a blast from the fusion weaponry of the Ethereal battleship.
As the remnants of the frigate were spinning vertically, rather than horizontally, the enemy ship couldn't simply match their rotation. Instead it ignored the problem and wedged itself into place, tethers shooting out to bind the two ships together so the impact didn't send them flying apart. Fortunately the hull of the frigate held, despite the impact. Mostly.
The Ethereals didn't both with trying to match up their airlock to the Quarians, instead they began cutting their way through the hull from inside their own airlock, after it welded itself into place.
With the internal sensors scrambled it was pure luck that the defenders discovered the location before the X-Rays were inside the ship. The captain took his place in the front line again and waited. The moment they breached, he let the atmosphere blow out of the ship. The first wave of Sectoids suffocated, but that didn't prevent them from firing on the waiting defenders, which was…disturbing.
Blowing atmosphere was such a standard anti-boarding tactic that he'd only ever seen it successfully deployed once, but when there's no atmosphere, people don't shoot at you and maintain their ranks as they suffocate. Even the disciplined panic and try to find an air supply, but not these…creatures. They kept their position, advancing fearlessly and firing even as they suffocated. They were machines, not people. Still, they were machines without the numbers or capability to breach the Quarian lines.
The next wave were Floaters, with their built in breathers. That battle would have been rough, but the marines finally finished placing the charges. The Kilop tore herself apart, along with her crew, shrapnel from her suicide scouring the battleship who'd wounded her, wounding it in turn.
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"Admiral, we've received a message from the Kilop, they've located and engaged the enemy."
"Put it through and pass on the information to the staff."
"Aye, aye, ma'am."
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"We're detecting major movements in orbit. Almost three hundred of the larger vessels are moving out of the system. This is the unit we have tentatively identified as Heavy Fleet Flotilla One," Bradford reported to the Commander.
"Their heaviest fast response unit…Get Semmi over her—" the Commander began, cutting himself off as the Quarian joined them, his face excited and the ships vanished from their sesnsors.
"One of our patrol ships has found a large group of Ethereal ships. The Heavy Fleet is moving to engage now.
"Numbers?" Bradford asked, so the Commander didn't have to.
"At least twenty, a mixture of troop transports and battleships. There must be more in the area as our patrol ship was ambushed and destroyed. The message took almost two days to reach us, but they won't have gotten too far. With the Patrol Fleet and the Heavy Fleet in the area, they'll be found and destroyed. We've also confirmed that they do have a means of FTL communications which doesn't rely on comms bouys and relays, which is going to make things trickier."
"Does it endanger your assault?'
"We will take appropriate countermeasures, it'll make things trickier, but with three hundred ships, we'll crush this attack."
"And Earth?" the Commander asked.
"The Civilian Fleet and a few other elements of the Heavy Fleet are here. No one would be stupid enough to attack a system with more than forty-five thousand armed ships. And if anyone was that stupid, they wouldn't survive their own childhood, let alone the attack on this system," Semmi said scornfully.
In accordance with the nature of the universe and its perverse sense of humor, alarms began to ring throughout the base and everyone turned to the monitors, except Semmi who turned to his omni-tool, which was also beeping alarms.
It was only a scout ship and it vanished a moment after arrival, torn apart by the GARDIAN systems of a quartet of modified transport craft.
"See, what did I tell you?" Semmi said, when the alarms started going off again.
Bradford and Semmi cursed. The rest of the staff in the room stared at the monitors. The Commander blinked, then began snapping orders.
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"Well, that's big," Vahlen said to Shen from where they were following along in her lab.
"Yes. It is…" Shen agreed breathlessly.
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When it appeared, it was outside the range of any of the Quarian ships' GARDIAN systems, but there were twenty Quarian vessels easily within range of the massive ship's fusion weaponry. Thirty seconds after arriving, there were eighteen clouds of shattered steel and dissipating atmosphere and the engine wake of the two ships which managed to escape within range of its primary weapons. Few Quarian ships were in position to fire on the new arrival and even fewer in position to do so without risking misses impacting the planet.
Obedient to Admiral Pol'Vega's standing orders, only those who were in such position fired. That consisted of a handful of converted cargo transports with externally mounted mass effect turrets and a single frigate analogue. The turrets were intended to keep away a shuttle boarding party, or prevent a group of fighters from crippling the ships long enough for them to escape, nothing more. The frigate's main gun was reasonably powerful, for a hundred year old frigate. The impact of both sets of rounds had no effect on the ship, which hung above London like the sword of Damocles.
Ships scattered, then began to move together like a flock of birds as those who were panicking remembered emergency plans, or were reminded by central command. They began to move into a half-sphere, around the monstrous craft, broken by the planet so that no missed shots could hit the garden world. They'd be more risk to one another, but that was a problem for once the battle began. The Liveships were moving into place as well, providing three artillery platforms as strong points and anchors of the battle line, as each was protected by the heaviest remaining vessels.
A single frigate vanished, running after the Heavy Fleet to inform them. For the moment, from the Levshepa, Admiral Pol'Vega examined the enemy.
The ship outmassed all three of the Liveships put together. Almost three miles end-to-end, it was shaped like a drop of water, escaped into zero-gee, then pulled towards the right, with smooth metal projections dipping from the bottom, a metal rim around its top deck and the entire body was studded with heavy weapons. If it had a mass effect cannon, it would have been able to shatter even the Destiny Ascension at any range, but its fusion weaponry was just as powerful, if shorter ranged. Its armor was clearly superior to that of any ship they'd encountered thus far.
The battle would be ugly, but at least it would be straightforward. No more politicking, or talking, just an enemy to kill—
"New Ones. You stray from the path. You cripple your advancement with allies and foreign technology. This will cease. Or you will…cease. Or they will…cease. This is the choice we offer you. The only choice."
"Bosh'tet!"
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Codex: Supply Shortages During the Ethereal War:
In the initial days of the Ethereal War, there were a number of localized shortages of basic materials, including food, fuel and steel. This wasn't due to any actual shortage of material on the planet, but a combination of local hoarding and disruption of transportation networks. The Council, local governments and the UN managed to solve that problem with a combination of public appeals, money and threats. The latter mostly came from the Council.
Fortunately, the Migrant Fleet arrived before the Quarians of the scout flotilla ran out of dextro-compatible food, though that was only true because of the heavy casualties amongst the Quarians and the fact that most of the Hatak's food stores survived, despite the cruiser being flung into the planet.
The real shortages were in those materials which were being recovered from the aliens, whether Ethereal, or Quarian. Alien Alloys, Meld, Elerium and Element Zero couldn't be produced so easily and were crucial to the constructions of the more modern weapons needed to effectively resist the invaders. The Quarians tried to assist, but their own supplies of Element Zero were strictly limited. After Dhaka, there were massive supplies of alien materials on Earth, but getting them wasn't easy at all, especially with Element Zero contamination throughout the area.
This left many nations with effectively no effective independent defense force, reliant upon X-Com. This, along with the damage done by, apparently random, Ethereal raids and attacks destabilized many nations and worsened the supply crisis as trade routes closed, while people and nations alike panicked and resumed hoarding.
Codex: FTL Communications Technology:
There are three means of FTL communication, each with advantages and disadvantages. The first and most common is a network of laser-communication buoys, daisy-chained from a mass relay to a planet or station. Its main advantages are its stability, straightforwardness and ability to connect to anywhere on the same network. Its disadvantages are the high cost of installation, especially for duplicate systems, relatively low carrying capacity, the complexity of the centralized control systems necessary to make it function and its vulnerability to attack.
The second most common is the use of a courier ship. Its advantages include being difficult to attack/track, high individual capacity and ability to go places where no buoys have been sent up. The disadvantages include the potential for the crew to take off with your message, the time it takes to get to more distant locations, the potential for interception and the inability to engage in real time communication, or respond to the message in a timely fashion.
The third and rarest is psionic communications. Its advantages are that it doesn't require any infrastructure, just a psionic in a Gollop Chamber at both ends and it does permit real time, two-way communication. Its disadvantages are that communicating through the living brains of two psionics is not a clear way to communicate, it requires you to already have a psionic in place at your destination and it requires you to have access to two unusually powerful psionics and two extremely expensive Gollop Chambers.
Author's Note: Okay, sorry about this, but I'm going to be travelling for the next two weeks for work and won't have an opportunity to update. I'll be back and update on the 28th of July with the next chapter.
Comments/reviews are always welcome.