Angel's Lament

Just so everyone knows the next few chapters will be primarily about the Astartes and the fleet trying to learn what to do so no real action for at least two more chapters. Now without further ado Chapter Four…


Chapter Four: Shattered Angels

Antros sat upon his throne in the Arx Libracon. Most of his brethren in the Librarium had left by now heading to their personal chambers to rest. They had performed the scrying ritual to learn more about where they had ended up. What it revealed weighed heavily on Antros's mind. 'So… we are set adrift, with no true way back to the Imperium. Yet we are still within the Milky Way, that much was made apparent in the scrying. But what was also clear is that this is not Our Milky Way. We have discovered that Mankind does exist within this universe, but so do other sentient races. This is made worse that Humanity in this galaxy is reliant upon the technology of ancient Xenos. What makes it even more terrible is the fact that the humans of this Galaxy are so reliant on the still living Xenos, this supposed Council, and Citadel. At least mankind has found its rightful place upon this Council. But it is aggravating that our people are so divided and lacking of a common cause. They are weak, this "Systems Alliance" is weak. It bogs itself down in rhetoric and politics, caring more for its image than the lives of its own people that it claims to represent.'

Antros let out a heavy sigh and returned to his thoughts. 'As Astartes, we must protect what this Alliance will not. But as the Emperor decreed for us, we shall remain within the shadows. After the scrying, we have learned much of this reality already, but there is still, even more, we must learn. There are still quite a few things that are unclear to me.'

Then Antros heard another voice enter his mind, one he knew very well, it was feminine and dignified. 'There is much you do not know, Master.'

Antros rolled his eyes and looked at who the voice belonged to his familiar Artemis. He responded back to her saying. 'Yes, there is much I do not know... but there is much more you do not give me credit for, Artemis.'

She replied, a feline smile crossing her face and voice full of mirth. 'I will give credit where credit is due, Master.'

Antros laughed, it was loud and it reverberated off the walls of the silent Libracon. The only other sounds that filled the chamber were the whooshes of Servo Skulls. But after a long moment and when the echo had finally faded Antros's face turned serious and grim.

Artemis noticed and prowled to the foot of the throne and sat down where she said in a more serious tone. 'What is it that troubles you, Master?'

Antros looked at her and said out loud. "Do not act like you don't already know."

She answered simply. 'I prefer to hear it from you, Master.'

Antros nodded and said within his mind. 'Alright, I am concerned about these "Reapers." They seem to be the reason for our being here. But we were only able to glean so little about them and their puppets, these "Collectors." But...'

'But you are also worried about what remains of the Strike Force.' Finished Artemis, her head nodding in understanding.

Antros continued on with his thoughts deciding to speak them out loud. "Yes, I am worried because of the chance of fragmentation upon this knowledge being found out. I am especially concerned by the Mechanicus Adepts. They shall try and call for a Crusade and a slaughter of all we encounter from this reality. They will not understand or care about what the Emperor has truly sent us here for. They will simply see this reality as an affront to everything that they stand for. This cannot be allowed to happen Artemis. I am also worried about the Imperial Navy's reaction to all of this. They could turn heretical and believe the Emperor has abandoned us."

'Do your concerns also extend to the Astartes elements within the fleet?' Asked Artemis.

Antros replied honestly. "No… no, we are the instruments of the Emperor's will. We will do as He wishes. Even if that means the sparing and saving of these Xenos."

'So you will not be purging the Xenos?' Asked Artemis tilting her head to the side in confusion.

Antros sighed and ran his hands across his face before he responded. "No, not all of them. The Primarch told us that we are not here to kill them all and that we are even meant to be the Defenders for some. So I will do as he commands me. But I am worried how the others will take this."

'Well... at least we have a purpose.' Said Artemis putting her large paws upon Antros's lap, like a kitten.

Antros smiled at her and said, softly petting her head. "Well, we must try and stop the fragmentation before it begins to take hold." With that, he stood up from his throne and marched to the grand entrance. Artemis followed in his shadow. Antros's face was stern. He had a fleet to keep together and he would not fail the Emperor in uniting them for His great task.

Many hours later Antros sat within his remade Power Armor. His armor had been repaired by Forge Father Incarael and was now once again ready for war. But for now, it was not needed for fighting but for negotiations. Antros had to get the fleet back in order. She had been sent reeling from the warpstorm and the loss of so many crew members, and was even now in a state of anarchy. She needed someone to take charge and Antros had just the being to take the reigns of leadership. The Chapter Master of the Lamenters, Malakim Phoros. He was one of the eldest living Astartes within the fleet, he held the prestigious title of Chapter Master, He was a proven stalwart follower of the Emperor's will, and he was well respected by almost everyone in the fleet. This all combined to make him the perfect candidate for the role of Commander for the Imperial Remnants. Antros also planned to request that Rhacelus be placed as the Advisor to Phoros as much as he trusted the Chapter Master, Antros knew he wasn't a patient man. Rhacelus would be the perfect cool head that Phoros would need to ground him.

Antros sat in a throne within the Foederis Cubiculum (Meeting chamber) his hand firmly placed upon his chin. He was waiting for the last few Captains, Adepts, and Astartes to arrive. The room was filled with the remaining Captains and Admiral of the Imperial Navy vessels, the Scion Sergeants and Colonels of the Astra Militarum, the Astartes Captains, and the list went on extending to all the leading members of the remaining Imperial Guard, Ecclesiarchy, Comissariant, Imperial Navy, Mechanicus, and Astartes elements. They had all been summoned here by Antros, for he wished to be the first one to inform them all on where they were and what had happened. Hoping in some way to lessen the profound impact it would have upon them all. As certain as Antros was of their task he knew not all within the fleet would share his enthusiasm. Especially within the ranks of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and Adeptus Ministorum, they both would need proof to understand what their Omnissiah and God, respectively, had in store for them. But this all had to come later on when all showed up.

Next to Antros upon his right, as always, was Rhacelus, Antros's trusty Equerry and Advisor. On Rhacelus's shoulder was his loyal Psyber Eagle, Comet. The Bird scanned the room with a suspicious eye, just as its master was. While at Antros's feet was Artemis her head up and alert. 'She always gets excited at meeting so many new auras and seeing new people's emotions.' Thought Antros with a small smile forming on his face. Though as quickly as it appeared, it vanished with the next person to enter the Foederis Cubiculum. Death Company Chaplain Efriel, he came in slow and quiet but despite his silent entrance all eyes turned to him and his leering Skull Helm. Efriel looked around the chamber as he walked in. Anyone who met his gaze faltered, even some amongst the Mechanicus began to fidget under his steely stare. Where the room had once been filled with voices it was now deathly silent, no one spoke. The only ones unaltered by his gaze were the Astartes, for they knew who he was.

As Chaplain Efriel walked in and saw the silence he had caused he let out a deep and guttural chuckle. After a moment of standing within the doorway, he then spoke his voice both loud and joyful. "Hello, my fellow servants of the God-Emperor! It would appear I am the last to arrive! If I am you have my apologies for my truancy!" He gave a deep bow to all assembled. He held the position for a moment before he sprung back upright, startling a few of the jumpier mortal attendees. Efriel was dressed in his Taticus Power Armor, it was painted the usual black of those within the Chaplaincy. But it was anything but ordinary in decoration. Unlike most of his brethren Chaplains, Efriel had his armor highly adorned with golden lace. Many crafted to form battle scenes or squads praying, but with them on his joints and right pauldron were images of their father, Sanguinius. His face was recreated with painstaking detail that wouldn't have been out of place upon the Death Masks of the Sanguinary Guard. But unlike the Death Masks were the Primarch's face was wrathful, the ones upon Efriel were of Sanguinius crying, his face mournful and compassionate. The tears were made of small rubies fashioned to the plate armor. The Primarchs golden hair mingled into the battle scenes of the Blood Angels fighting and praying. Upon Efriel's back was a brilliant crimson cape trimmed with bright gold. Intermingled within the crimson cape was sapphire treads that wrote out, in Low Gothic, a quote from the Primarch. "Be the Light in the Darkness, my Sons. Show them our righteous cause." Even the Chaplains Rosarius was adorned to look vibrant, it was caste to look like a heart. Then the Iron Halo he possessed gave him a radiant visage despite his dark-colored armor.

The Chaplain walked around the table and took the seat next to Antros. Where he asked in a mirth filled voice. "Is this seat taken, my Brother?"

To which Antros gave a slight chuckle and said back to the Chaplain. "No. Not yet, Brother Chaplain."

Chaplain Efriel chuckled at Antros's reply, where he began to situate himself in his seat, he then remained quiet. Not long after he took his seat the room returned to normal, the Mortals finally feeling it appropriate to speak. The Mortals went back to their toils of ordering crew or soldiers around through their vox links or through servants and menials. And the Mechanicus Adepts went back to ordering around a few Skitarii and Servitors, and lower-level Tech-priests. While the Astartes mostly sat in silence or talked amongst themselves. Though a few did speak with the Adepts and Mortals, at least those humans who were not already busy ordering people around. Now the only people missing that Antros could see were the Lamenters.

As if on cue a Grapplehawk flew into the room. Silencing the room again to listen. Painted on both is furled metal wings was the Lamenters Chapter symbol. It cawed and announced who entered next its voice metallic and monotone. "Welcome Malakim Phoros, Chapter Master of the humble Lamenters, Destroyer of Heretics and Xenos, foe to the Treacherous and slayer of Daemons."

'Quite grandiose titles don't you think, Master?' Asked a gleeful Artemis.

'Yes, but not undeserved titles, after all, he is a Chapter Master.' mentally replied Antros.

Then he entered, Malakim Phoros, his face was an unreadable tome, locked in a permanent scowl. His head was horribly mutilated, and most of his scalp was scarred. Three giant gash marks were the worst, they ran from his left jowl diagonally across his once Angelic face, and stopped at his right temple. What little hair he had was greasy and unkempt making him look more ghoulish than Angelic. One of his eyes was Augmented after it had clearly been clawed out by the lacerated skin around it, while the other eye was glazed over, and clearly useless from whatever monster gave him the three claw marks. When he walked it was with a slight limp from a heavily damaged augmented leg that was slow and unsteady as he marched. One of his arms was also artificial, in the hand was clutched a Glaive Encarmine, it's blade heavily dulled and dented. Two of the artificial fingers were gone, sparks occasionally flying from the damaged ports. He was encased in horribly damaged Artificer Armor. Where there had once been ornamentation massive rents now ran all the way along the armor The Power Armor was clearly in low power mode with the way Malakim walked so slowly. He lifted his remaining living hand and whistled as he entered. It was a horribly coarse sound and it clearly came from old and damaged lungs.

The Grapplehawk responded instantly, it flew directly to his outstretched arm. It landed without a sound but quickly cawed again as if it was a real bird. Malakim Phoros then began to walk to the Astartes side of the table. He said nothing or even eyed anyone, in particular, he simply hobbled to the other side of the table. Though he said nothing the room remained silent and all eyes, even of the Astartes stayed locked on him and his slow progression. Though despite his Astartes stature he was shorter than Antros thought he would be, and a lot grimmer. Then it struck Antros, he clearly wasn't a Primaris, he had remained among those who had not yet crossed the Rubicon. Despite his smaller stature compared to his brethren he was a sight to behold. Despite the heavy damage, he had sustained he was clearly a formidable warrior, and despite his wounds, he walked with more dignity than most Antros had seen.

After what felt like ages Malakim finally made it to where he decided to sit next to Chaplain Efriel. Malakim set his Glaive down, leaning it against the rounded table, in an alcove made so weapons and staff could be set within. After that, the Chapter Master slowly sat down into his throne. Then after another long moment of prolonged silence Malakim said his voice ancient and rough. "May we get this meeting started?"

Antros stood up and bowed to the Chapter Master, where he asked with as much respect as he could for the ancient Marine. "May I ask, Chapter Master, where are the rest of your Brethren within your chapter?"

He answered coldly back. "They are dead, killed either by Huron Blackheart, or the Daemons after him. While I am here my remaining men are back at our ships deciding amongst themselves who will become their replacements. Now, aren't you the one who summoned me here, Chief Librarian Antros?"

"I am sorry to hear that, Chapter Master Phoros. But yes, I am the one who has summoned you here." Antros turned to the whole chamber and said. "I have a very important matter I must discuss with you all. It is about where we are and why we have found ourselves here."

Malakim quickly said sounding tired. "Then tell us, Chief Librarian, some of us have chapters to rebuild from the splinters."

Antros nodded and walked behind the table and over to one of the hollow table's entrance. The entrance was next to Rhacelus, so Antros walked by his Advisor and friend and into the center of the Chamber. Rhacelus gave Antros a reassuring nod At the center of the hollow table was as small plinth meant to be stood upon by whoever had the floor. Antros stepped onto the plinth and looked about the room. He saw many faces he knew, but amongst the known was a mix of new faces. But one thing all the faces shared was dread, all the faces carried it, they had all seen horrible things recently and they had been changed by it. They carried a cloud with them now, one filled with the dark sights they had witnessed. The abominations of the Immaterium had taken people from them in the attack, that much was clear by the auras Antros could see before him. Some auras were brighter, those who were more optimistic as clear as day to him, but even they were marked by the curse of dread. The fear that they too could be taken so quickly by the creatures of the Warp and have no chance to fight back.

Antros knew he had to give them both reassurance but the truth, they would shatter if he lied. So he began his voice cool and neutral. "My Brothers and Sisters of the Imperial Creed, fellow servants of Him on Terra. I have gathered you all here to discuss and tell you of what I have learned about where we are. But first I must share with you all a vision, that was sent to me by My Primarch, and The Sanguinor." All the Astartes in the room with the exceptions of Rhacelus and Malakim, looked on earnestly now waiting with bated breath. For if the primarch had truly spoken to one of them it meant either great tiding or a dark omen. "Some of you may object to what I say, but know by my honor as a Blood Angel and my duty as Chief Librarian I speak with only the truth in my words." Antros recounted how when he had gone to rest in his chambers he had been visited by the Great Angel and his Exemplar. And how Sanguinius had given Antros a task, that was called for by the Emperor himself. To be the protectors of all the lives they encountered. "My Primarch said that we are no longer within our empire. We are adrift in another Universe entirely, one with its own humanity. Though they are caught in a dangerous time for their galaxy."

Antros continued. "There are many things that are different for them and for us here. The Emperor called upon Sanguinius to give us his blessing so that we might save our brothers and sisters of this universe. There is a mighty threat they must face, one that could destroy them as it has countless others in the monster's time alive. There are many other Xenos here in this galaxy. None we have ever encountered before. Most of them seem to be included in the Emperors Plans. They too are to be safeguarded-"

A Cardinal shot out of his chair on wobbly overweight legs and shrieked. "Apostate! Heretic! You lie-!"

Antros roared back at the Cardinal, to make an example out of him to the others who would dare to question the word of his Primarch. "I do not lie, Mortal! What have I to gain in lying to you all? You are my fellow servants of His will! Why would I lie?" He said looking to the crowd mentally pleading for them to believe him. The mortals began to bicker amongst themselves many casting a suspicious eye upon him.

Just when Antros was about to give up on them all, a voice broke through the murmuring. The voice was steely and unflinching in its pronouncement. "I believe him…" Antros looked to who had come to his defense. It was Malakim Phoros, the Chapter Master stood upright and mighty. His hands both directed at the table sides were those who doubted Antros lay. "And so should you all. If you condemn him a heretic than you are a fool. I too was blessed with a vision from the Primarch. He told me the very same."

A Commissar spoke out his voice coarse and rough from his decades of shouting out orders. "How do you know it was not a Daemon that deceived you both?"

Antros responded. "Because I know the Great Enemies touch. When the Primarch blessed me with some of his strength I felt light. I know the touch of the Ruinous Powers. That was no touch of a Neverborn. It was the Primarch sent by the Emperor to deliver his message and blessing upon us."

The Commissar sat down his face not portraying that he fully believed Antros. But again Malakim came to his aid. "The Primarch told me the same, Him on Terra has sent us here, with a holy cause. We are to save this galaxies Mankind and these worlds Xenos, from the darkness that wishes to consume them. Know that I swear to be true in on my title of Chapter Master."

The Admiral of the Sanguine Spirit spoke next, her face a forced neutral expression. "Say you are right, My Lords and that the Emperor has sent us here. Why would He want these Xenos saved?"

Antros answered his words honest ones. "I do not know, Admiral. But from what I have learned of this world we find ourselves in it might be more complicated than we hope for."

Another Captain asked. "Can you at least tell us what this mankind is like. Is their Empire similar, do they follow a similar code to the Imperial Creed?"

Antros held back a sigh at what he had to say, so it took him a short moment to answer his voice with a hard edge. "To be to the point and truthful… They are weak. They bog themselves down by restrictions and bureaucracy. Their leaders caring more for their approval than the task they are there to perform. The people are better informed than most but they lack any sort of form of a common cause. They bicker over the smallest of things and do not care for the fate of the species. Only caring as much as is required and no more. There are outliers to this some humans have begun to thrive and reach something close to what the Emperor has envisioned for Mankind. Many though simply see their fellow men as something to exploit for personal gain, fame, station, or power. Though technology is still progressing within this time, far more than in the time of our Dark Imperium."

One of the head surviving Magos spoke up his voice through mechanical somehow portrayed the keen interest of a child upon Sanguinella. "The Machine God still shows them his holy path?"

Antros let his head fall a little as he broke the news that would be the toughest for all to hear. "I would not believe so Magos. They appear to have strayed from his path, though some still attempt to press on in this holy path, most do not. For you see most of the technology they possess today came… it came from their reworking of ancient Xenos machines." Antros finished and braced for the blaring of the Adepts.

Yet to Antros's shock the tech-priests simply began to chitter to one another in Binaric the Two lead Magos's seeming to lead the discussion. After a long time, the conversation finally ended and the two Magos 'turned' back to face the rest of the assembly. Where they said in perfect unison in Low Gothic. "We have reached an agreement."

Antros said quickly back to them. "What have you agreed to?"

The one on the right answered Antros its voice carrying a strange tone. "We can allow them to live, but only if we are allowed to examine as much of this Xenos tech as possible. To ascertain how corrupt the technology is. But we will refrain from our more violent impulses. For now."

Antros at that moment let out a quick breath, he had subconsciously been holding in anticipation for the Magos's answer. He was relieved he would at least have some time to try and do what he needed to before the Adepts lost themselves to their own fanaticism. Antros though would have to quickly conclude the informative part of the meeting and get to the other reason he had called everyone here.

"Now I must tell you of one of the more important organizations that I have found in my scryings." Said Antros loud enough to get the attention of all in the room back upon him. "The leading group within humanity is a government called the 'Systems Alliance.' Though they preach to be the arbiters of safety, power, and defense of humanity they are corrupt and inefficient. They claim to carry Mankinds best interests at heart yet they allow the other races of this galaxy to exploit, enslave, and murder their people with near impunity. They allow slavers and pirates to ravage the outer human colonies without fear of retribution, only ever doing basic patrols and employ only the most rudimentary of defenses that don't even put a dent into the foes that ravage their lands."

"But their people do have better access to knowledge, and they are able to respond to what they consider crisis far faster than we could in The Imperium. Though they use this system to its most inefficient capacity, the potential is still within them. The potential the Emperor say in us is still within them. There are many places in this world that are truly worth protecting many worlds that have never had to know the darkness of true war, only ever experienced at the worst minor skirmishes. And even the wars they have had to fight have been what we would call minor conflicts. They are young and inexperienced but I see in them the same potential for all of Mankind. We only need help them along this path, and they could see a brighter future that we only ever see in our greatest dreams. It is our duty, and our honor to help them into this golden age that we can stop from ending before it has even truly begun." Antros paused a moment and let all assembled gather their thoughts and discuss what they had learned with one another.

After several long moments, Antros called for their attention, and once they looked at him he continued. "We shall discuss the enemies of this Mankind later within this meeting but if you would all humor me. I have one request to make of you all. We are without any leader while we are within this galaxy. So we must choose one. That is why I have summoned you all here aside from the need to tell you of our fate. We need to come together and fight as one to complete the task the Emperor has given us. So I would ask you all to give a person who you believe to be worthy of leading us all. But before we do, I would like to make a recommendation for who should lead us." Antros waited until he felt all eyes upon him, then he resumed." Malakim Phoros." Antros cast his arms to the mighty man. "He is an Astartes granted great gifts by the Emperor. And a Chapter Master no less. He is an ancient and experienced leader, and a stalwart believer in the Imperial Creed. He is the perfect candidate to lead us in this trying time we find ourselves." Antros gave the last words he spoke as much gravitas as he believed they needed.

Once Antros had finished the room returned to chattering, all the leaders taking serious thought on what they should do. Many began to discuss it openly with those that they trusted or those around them. But when the groups almost seemed ready to make their pronouncement for leader Antros heard a bang like thunder crashed in. All within the room silenced in an instant the assembled host all looking to where the noise had come from. They all peered in shocked awe at who it was. It was Malakim Phoros, he stood upright once more his glaive in both his hands, his face still remaining a deep scowl. The noise was caused when he had smashed his glaive into the ground.

He then spoke after every individual looked upon him, his voice both solemn and low. "As much as I appreciate that you all would consider me as a leader, I decline this nomination. I am both unworthy of the honor and unfit for the role. I am too old and far to rash to be given the power. I would only lead us to failure... But I will take this time to make my own nomination for who should lead us. I say the best to lead us is,"

Antros had no idea who he would nominate maybe one of the mortal Admirals or the captain of the 4th company of Blood Angels, Raphean or the captain of the 10th Company, Borgio. Antros was caught off guard by who Malakim said. "Chief Librarian Antros. He has shown his strength and he led the force that saved my chapter from destruction. He was appointed By Lord Warden Dante himself. The Emperor deemed him worthy to share his son's message. There is no other option for who should guide us in this new quest."

Antros turned to the Chapter Master slowly, unsure he had heard correctly, but he was only proven to have heard right when he heard Rhacelus's somber voice. "I agree with Chapter Master Phoros. Antros my be a young warrior but he is a good one. He has the intelligence and the correct amount of caution. He was chosen to lead the Librarium by Mephiston himself and Chapter Master Dante saw it too when he chose him to lead the Blood Angels Strike Force. I believe he should be the one to lead us as well."

Antros was left speechless for a long moment unsure how he should take the most unexpected of turns. He had, of course, thought about being the leader but had thrown himself out of the proverbial window because Malakim's mere presence had just made the most sense. But now he had been the one put up for the role of Commander. Antros thought that the crowd would be displeased because of how quickly they seemed to have turned on him earlier. Yet again he was proven wrong, not only were the other leaders considering him, but they seemed more pleased now than when Antros had recommended Malakim.

Once Antros had collected himself enough he said. "If you would have me lead, I shall do so to the best of my ability. But first I believe it would only be right if all here were allowed to voice their nominations and reasons for who should be the Commander."

It took some time after that for the voting to be arranged and the other applicants to the role to be counted. A few of the more arrogant among the assembly of leaders tried to nominate themselves and were allowed to do so. But most already knew who had the most vocal supporters. The endorsement from a Chapter Master had all but sealed Antros's Fate. So when the consensus was done it was to no great shock that Antros had won the hearts of most assembled, whether through his words, actions, or the voices of others. Though Antros was proud that he had won over almost all the leader there, but he felt a deep sense of foreboding within his chest. He tried to push it aside but he knew why he had the feeling, this task was going to be anything but easy.

Antros returned to the plinth and said his voice grateful. "I thank all those of you here, even those who voiced opinions against me. I am thankful you deemed this important enough to give it honest thought. But as Commander, know I will fight with you to see the Emperor's visions made manifest. We shall fight and die if we need to bring this mankind to where He wishes them to be." the crowd gave a few claps and nods of heads before returning to silence and awaiting what came next.

"Now, Commander Antros. Would you please inform us of the Xenos we will encounter from this galaxy?" Asked the Admiral of the Sanguine Spirit her voice showing her wish to see what they had to face.

Antros straightened his back and said. "Very well I shall get to the other beings that live within this galaxy. I shall start with the races I believe to be of no true threat to our people. First, are the Hanar and their servant race the Drell. They are content to live where they are and have never taken up arms of any sort against Mankind. They both simply wish to live in peace with the other races. They have even given aid to humans in distress. Though they may be Xenos, I see them as a fine set of allies for this galaxies mankind. The Hanar look akin to ancient Terran jellyfish. While the Drell look somewhat similar to Mankind, though they share a bit more in common with the Tau of our age. They are a fine and acceptable race, who simply wish to serve their masters the Hanar."

"Next are the Elcor, they are a large quadrupedal race. Who are slow yet gentle giants. Something akin to Ogryns of the Imperium. They are an isolationist race who simply wish to be self-sufficient within their small borders. They are willing to trade with the other races but they simply wish to be diplomatically represented and left to their own devices. I believe we may give them that if when the time comes they pledge themselves to aid Mankind in her causes. They are a widely known race, to be honest, and straightforward, unlike many of the heinous Xenos of our Galaxy. They also would pose no true threat to mankind militarily, so if they ever did betray they could be stomped out with little issue."

A murmur ran through those assembled before Antros continued. "Then the last race I see as no threat are the Quarians. They are similar to mankind in stature, but with inverted knees and a weakened immune system. That require, to simply live, environment suits. But I see them as in a similar circumstance. For they too were laid low by their own creations. They were thrust out of their home by the abominations called the 'Geth'. Something not dissimilar to the Men of Iron of home. They now travel the stars similar to the Eldar. But unlike those deceitful and arrogant cretins. The Quarians are truthful, and all they wish for is the survival of their people. I could see mankind being able to give them a home. In exchange for their servitude and loyalty. Their species has a natural inclination to do what is best for the common good. So I can see them being able to agree with mankind and not turn their backs on us. At least not for a time."

"But now I will tell you all about the other races, the ones who have either by association, actions, or beliefs proven to be against Mankind and her goals. One race that will pose a threat to mankind in the future is the Salarians. They are prone to acts of paranoia and are known to spy heavily upon all those they know, to varying degrees of success. They run an organization that calls itself the STG they are something akin to the Officio Assassinorum's Vanus Temple. More like powerful spies and operatives than necessarily true cold-blooded assassins. The Salarians are a physically frail, short-lived, and cowardly race. Though do not underestimate them. That has been the downfall of many a Warlord of this galaxy. They may be weak physically but they make up for it in their cunning and playing the bigger game."

"They prefer to know all they can about an enemy before they strike. Searching them for weakness. We shall show them none. They count on their intelligence network so that they can see threats before they fully appear. They are known for their preemptive attacks upon an enemy before they are ready. They are also known for their lack of honor, willingly striking at their enemy's wounded and defenseless on dozens of instances. Usually, in the hope, it will cause their enemies to act rashly. They are a wicked race know to use bio-weapons, and plagues on several occasions. We are to give them no quarter, they are malicious and conniving and, should we face them, they are to be given no mercy. These Salarians though they have never lifted an overt hand on mankind, if they ever preserve us as one they will gladly see us killed off. We shall treat them the very same, they are an enemy until they have proved themselves otherwise."

"Next after the sneaky Salarians are the slimy and spineless Volus. The Volus are a diminutive race both in stature and morals. They are known for being merchants, tradesmen, and bankers. They, in fact, came up with this galaxy's universe monetary system, the credit they call it. It is a frail system susceptible to the greed and incompetence of others. And the Volus are much like the system they engineered, frail, weak-willed, greedy, and willfully incompetent. They prefer others to do the hard work for them while they sit back and try to order others around. The Volus are as greedy as they come, using this to their own ends. These vermin are all too similar to the Stryxis of home, willing to partake in the trading of anything, coin, items, worlds, and people. They are a race built on the labor of their betters and should be treated as such, vermin. They willingly cut corners and endanger lives so that they might spare a few more credits. They are a parasite. A cancer, they deserve nothing for they are nothing."

"After the vermin is their "owners" The Mighty Turians. The Turians would on the surface look to be good allies for mankind. They are more than willing to fight and die for a common cause, they are well disciplined, and they have a large military dedicated to the defense of others. But they are all too willing to turn on humanity on the flip of a coin. Their first encounters with mankind were violent. When Mankind was still barely space fairing the Turians went to war against us. They had preserved us as breaking some unknown rule of theirs so they saw that as a chance to go to war. They meant to subjugate Mankind! For this, there can be no forgiveness only vengeance for those they slew in what they call 'The First Contact War.' True they only killed a few humans and they conveyed their regret upon such actions, but they showed their true self. A selfishness and arrogance that has no place with Mankind in ruling the Stars. For these reasons, they are no true ally of man only its hidden opponent."

"Next in the line of Mankind's enemies is a race known for their diplomatic skills, the Asari. They much like the Turians are a hidden enemy to Mankind and her future. They may appear more human than most of the other races, but it is only a mask. They in truth are a race that wishes to overshadow and consume the others. You see they have a trait that allows them to mate with any other sentient race and produce offspring with them. Though in truth the children primarily inherit the Asari's genes. Only taking a select few of the other parents. They use this trait to worm their way into the business and societies of the other races. They seem more than keen on slowly assimilating the other races into their gene pool. They may attempt to look innocent but they have the dark wish to rule the stars, alone. They have… they have even begun to try and assimilate mankind, with many of them marrying and having children with members of our species."

This caused an uproar in the officers and Marines, many declaring that the Asari must be destroyed for their Blasphemy. Antros tried to cool their tempers by saying. "Their time will come but we have even greater threats we must fight first." this calmed most within the crowd but it still took another few moments for the more zealous to calm themselves. When all returned to silence Antros resumed. "Yes, the Asari are a truly malevolent species who should rightly be despised. Though despite this they are one of the most powerful races, militarily, economically, and diplomatically. They are a key race in what they call the Council, which presides on a moderate-sized Spacestation. This Council oversees most of the races who call this galaxy home, humanity sadly included. But Mankind has recently been given a seat on the Council, one of only three other species to be offered this. We gained this by saving The Councils members before they were killed by another race I shall finish with. The Council itself is another problem that mankind will need to change for the betterment of themselves and the other races. The Citadel Council is subject to even worse Bureaucracy than the Systems Alliance. They are often the last to react to threats and crises, because of their slow and ineffective rulings. The best do not get to lead the Council simply the best of the worst."

"But more on the Council in another meeting, back to the other races that are of a threat to Mankind and her goals. The next race I preserve to be a threat to Humanity, the Krogan. They are a rather stubborn species, know for their toughness and battle aptitude. They used to be one of the mightiest races in the galaxy threatening to eclipse the Citadel Council in power. But they were attacked by the Asari and Salarians for fear of the power the Krogan would possess. This is called the Krogan Rebellion to those of this galaxy. Just when victory seemed assured for the Krogan and that the Council would be finally broken, the Turians saved them. The Turians fought off the Krogan and released a bio-weapon called the Genophage. Which caused the once fertile Krogan to primarily birth still-borns. With their numbers no longer able to replenish the Krogan quickly fell to where they are now. A shadow of what they once were. A now brutish and unintelligent race of mercenaries and murderers. They are highly territorial and aggressive despite their dwindling numbers. Though despite this they are a formidable enemy still more than capable of defending their weakened lands. Krogan's are also honest, but only to what they consider honorable behavior. For example, they see nothing wrong with slaughtering the weakened and betraying their leaders. In all, they are not too dissimilar to the Orks of our home galaxy."

"The Batarians are next to speak about. They are all alike the Volus I spoke of earlier, but only worse. They are a race known to make slaves of the other races they encounter. They're an uncaring race that is unfit to breathe the same air as humans. They are a scheming people who simply wish to control even more as they press onwards. They secretly fund slavers and militant groups to cause terror in human space because they feel cheated by our mere existence. They see the grace of Humanity and they have become envious of it. The Batarians are an annoyance to our people and have been for some time. Ever since we joined the council. They have made it quite clear by their actions that they are not befitting an alliance with man, only deserving a quick death."

"After the Batarians on my list are the Vorcha. A savage and stupid race renowned for their quick tempers, savagery, lack of empathy, and most of all their adaptability. They are a tribal people not able to even boast a true nation or even a military. They are all good warriors but they are unorganized and foolish. They simply are too aggressive to evolve any further leaving them a weak people. Though this might sound like it makes them perfect to be left alone I say the opposite. It makes them more dangerous if we left them to their own devices they could eventually pose a threat should they ever unite. They are far too aggressive and violent to be allowed to get to such a stage. Not to mention the actions of the ones that do leave their home are reason enough to kill the species. They wished to kill and enslave all the humans that remained upon the Space Station called Omega. They used a bio-weapon to kill off most of the other races and planned on leading a rebellion to kill the rest once they were weak enough. They were then going to sell off the remaining humans on the station. The Vorcha ultimately are only a race of pawns though. But who gave them this Bio-weapon are another enemy we shall face. They are known by a strange name to those who even know of them for they are cowards as well using others to do their bidding."

"This race is called the Collectors, they are yet another pawn to a more vindictive species. Their masters are the reason we have been called here, to put an end to their threat. They wish to destroy this child-like Mankind and all life in this galaxy! I was able to glean only so much on these monsters but I do know this! They are called the Reapers and they believe themselves the true inheritors to the galaxy and that it is their right and privilege to reap and slaughter all else that lives! We were brought here to remind them who the true inheritors of the galaxy are! Mankind are the only true heirs to the galaxy and we shall proclaim it in the blood of the Reapers! They are our true enemy here! They and all those they sire and all those who would prey upon mankind and her fledgling Empire! We shall be the Defenders against this encroaching Darkness! We shall be the preservers of the Light! The Bulwark against Terror! We shall be the Angels of Death to the enemies of Mankind! And We Shall Know No Fear!"


Thanks for reading! And a BIG thank you to Henri9897 and Toraach for their help in making this chapter what it is! Have a lovely rest of your day!