HNS Spirit of Duty, Argos Rho System, February 22, 2193
"Sir, I'm detecting activity from the relay." The Turian sensor operator reported.
Captain Sparatus, from the top of his CIC podium shot a quick glance at the operator to confirm. When the operator did not rescind the report, he took action.
"Comms, prepare the ship for battle and send a warning to the rest of the fleet." He ordered.
The forward guard group he commanded watched the relay leading to Council territory for any and all activity. Blackwatch and other kinds of covert operations groups always sent a heads up message before using the relay. This was unscheduled, which meant one thing: impending attack. The ships on the forward guard group gathered up in a diamond formation, with the heaviest ships on the rear of the diamond. The thirty something ships Sparatus had under his command was never intended to stop whole invasions or attacks, but instead to delay the attackers so that the rest of the fleet could rally and counter attack. Any and all information that he could send back to the main group was of the utmost importance, as it allowed for them to plan a proper retaliation. Unfortunately for Sparatus, this new threat was going to be the kind of beast nobody could have expected.
"Ships are exiting relay transit... there's 95 five of them." the sensor officer reported once more. He looked over the data received once more and amended his report. "Wait a minute, those aren't ships, they're just fighters!"
"What kind of idiot launches a fighter assault without heavy support?" Sparatus commented as he brought up the data feed on the holographic display in front of him.
"Detailed scans complete, only 15 of them are actually fighters.. 30 are drones and the rest are... missiles?" the sensor officer confusedly finished his report.
Missiles? How could they be operating independently like that? Without a predetermined target and firing solution, a missile is no different than a dumb torpedo. Drones acting outside the scope of a centralized control was also notoriously ineffective. Even with advanced programming derived from a legendary ace as the piloting VI is often not creative enough to exploit these maneuvers. Add to that, it's practically impossible to control both drones and missiles effectively through a Mass Relay. What was going on? Whatever's happening, Sparatus knows it's not good.
"Scramble all interceptors and power up the PROXY lasers to maximum charge... I've got a bad feeling about this." Sparatus ordered once more.
As the Turian interceptors launched from their respective ships, further data scans in the Spirit of Duty concluded.
"Scans finished on the fighters, sir. They're an advanced model, no combat data is available as of yet. Naval Intelligence suggests that this the culmination of the AVF program the Council launched 20 years ago."
This somewhat surprised Sparatus. He thought that the AVF program was a massive failure and was just another drain on the Council's cracking economy. Most of the coverage from the Council media painted the AVF program in a bad light... unless all that was just a false flag operation. Pulling up an image of the lead fighter in his holo-projector, he went over the list of features that the AVF was supposed to have. The first thing he remembered were reports that the AVF was supposed to be able to become some sort of network hub for various weapon platforms. If that were the case, then he supposed that it wouldn't be too far off to assume that the fighters were the ones controlling both missiles and drones. These fighters would be a far greater danger than he had anticipated.
"Comms, notify the fleet that the drones and missiles are being controlled remotely, most likely by the fighters." He told them.
The comms officer didn't question this and simply nodded. Right after the officer had sent the message, he intercepted a message from the enemy fighters.
"Got something from the enemy fighters, patching it through now."
"Turians." the Asari voice said with hatred practically dripping through the channel. "You are trespassing in my Kingdom... your punishment is death."
The connection closed, and almost instantly the missiles surged forward and was on course straight towards the Turian forward group.
"Incoming! transfer all auxiliary power to shields, evasive maneuvers now!" Sparatus ordered.
The Spirit of Duty turned sharply, and the missile targeting the ship narrowly missed by a few dozen meters. The Warphead missiles exploded behind the ship with an harsh, yet oddly magnificent, purple glow.
"What in spirit's name was that!?" Sparatus demanded, more than asked.
"It looks like a missile tipped with a mass effect warhead... energy signatures seem to say it's a supersized version of a biotic warp!" the sensor officer answered.
Sparatus cursed and slammed his fist on the command podium's railings in anger. He looked over the damage reports from the rest of the forward group. Most of them were heavily damaged, if not outright destroyed. They had been gutted by a few missiles and fighters. The shame and dishonor he felt was immense.
The Asari fighters now charged ahead. As the Turian interceptors entered firing range, both sides fired a volley of missiles. The Asari bunched together for a few seconds then scattered apart in a sunburst like pattern with their drones in tow.
The lead Asari fighter relayed orders to her squadron.
"Payload has been delivered, let's clean up the navy's mess." She said.
Sinister laughs was heard through the Asari comm channel.
The fifteen fighters, with two drones in tail each, targeted the remaining ships. The interceptors struggled to keep up with the faster and more agile fighters, unable to pull off the same maneuvers as the fighters.
Sparatus watched helplessly from the Spirit of Duty as the interceptors one by one started disappearing from his holographic display. The communication feed from the interceptors didn't help much either.
"She's on my tail... I can't shake her!" He heard a pilot begging for help. "It's the Purple Wings, she... she's like a machine!" The last interceptor pilot said before being shot out into the void.
Now, like a predator, the fighters came bearing down on the crippled ships. With their interceptor defense practically neutered and the ships barely functioning, all hope of holding off the fighters was practically lost. Bringing even worse news, his sensor officer reported that the mass relay was powering up once more. Reluctantly, Sparatus called for a tactical withdrawal.
"There's no chance we're fighting them back and there's no telling what will be coming out of that relay." He told his comm officer. "Order everyone to withdraw to the fleet rally point!"
All remaining functioning ships turned around and charged their mass effect cores for an FTL jump. As the Spirit of Duty prepared for a jump, the Council fleet exited relay transit. A massive blip appeared in sensors, a huge ship, likely a Council Dreadnought. From one of the observation cameras outside his ship, he looked closely at the massive ship in the center of the Council Fleet. It was big... bigger than any other ship he had seen so far. He guessed that it must have been around two kilometers long, and likely more than that when counting it's width. Sparatus saw the design element of the three primary council races meshed together in that one gargantuan vessel. As the hulking ship dropped from relay transit, the forward group's remnants jumped into FTL, towards the rest of the Turian fleet.
The Turian captain brought up all the footage the cameras caught of the Dreadnought and observed. He saw that the fat body and massive 'wings' that primarily built up the ship's body was very Asari aesthetically. Along with it was the large, maw-like front, which he believed was primarily a mix of Asari and Krogan. Jagged fins dotted the tail end of the ship as well as the rear of the wings, a distinctly Salarian design. Sparatus saw what looked to be an indent on the top rear of the ship's body and as he observed, which seemed to connect to a bulge in the front of the ship. He supposed that this could have been a large aircraft hangar, though he couldn't be sure.
"Sir, Admiral Arterius is on the line." the comm officer notified the captain.
"Put him up." Sparatus answered.
"Captain, I've glanced through your preliminary reports but I want the details straight from you." Desolas said through the line.
"The new enemy fighters are assumed to have some very advanced computer systems. I believe they are the ones that are providing targeting data and control commands to the drones and missiles that transited the relay with them." Sparatus explained. "They're also far more maneuverable and carry more firepower than our interceptors. In short, we were outgunned, badly."
"And now the rest of their fleet are here... what do you reckon our chances of holding them off are?" The Admiral asked.
"Bluntly put, sir, less than slim." Sparatus answered.
Admiral Arterius wasn't in deep thought for long before deciding on a course of action.
"Deploy all our ground forces planetside. They'll be of no use to us in a fighting withdrawal." Desolas ordered. "If that Dreadnought is what I think it is, then we're in no real position to fight back."
Sparatus and his forward group had no ground troops with them, so they can ignore that command.
"Affirmative, sir. I'll tell my sailors about the withdrawal." Sparatus answered.
Desolas nodded, then turned off the call. He looked up and saw his bridge crew looking to him. Sparatus tried to provide what reassurance he could. He stood up straight, gripped the CIC podium's rails, and declared.
"Don't loose heart Turians, we will return." He gritted out.
-000-
Count Lazlow Air Base, Christmas, Elysium, March 1, 2193
The refugees had arrived.
A spectacle for the small town of Christmas, to be certain. Besides the operations being held in Count Lazlow Air Base, the citizens of the small rural town rarely saw anything of the outside world. Count Lazlow was chosen to host a group of the alien refugees exactly because it was isolated. With Christmas being the closest settlement and nothing else within almost a hundred miles, this was the perfect place to keep the aliens; both from the public, and from escaping.
Markov watched from the sidelines as the Aliens disembarked from their transports. He didn't particularly like Aliens, they have caused him enough grief to last a lifetime. However, in a vicious stroke of irony, he was tasked on handling this batch of refugees. He was still in his flight suit when he got the assignment a mere hour ago, and he was still in his flight suit now. The pilot accompanying him was in her dress uniform though. She, for whatever reason, received the assignment a whole six hours earlier than he did. She was completely prepared where as he wasn't.
"Cheer up, brother." She said. "This is a once in a life time opportunity, so turn your frown upside down!"
Sergei shook his head. Being stuck in the same squadron with his older sister was enough of a boondoggle to him. Some bureaucratic error due to her having been married and having changed her surname had inadvertently gotten her into the same unit as him.
"Try and stay professional, Lieutenant Natalya Yoslav. First impressions are important after all, no?" He replied, pulling rank.
"I was just trying to ease up your nerves, Captain Sergei Markov." She teased.
Markov merely sighed and massaged his temples.
"How'd we get assigned to this anyway? The 444th Squadron is a temporary unit until we get transferred to a real squadron." He now asked her.
"We're the only air unit around here that was available, I guess." she answered. "Wizard and Merlin Squadrons are all in action above the front lines, and how could you forget that Hurricane Squadron, your old unit, no longer exists as of January?"
"Don't remind me." He winced. "I should've known they had more than a couple MANPAD sites in that city."
"Hey, it wasn't your fault that Shanxi was a mess." she now turned to him. "Most of Hurricane got knocked out after you got shot down anyways, so there's no reason to blame yourself. In fact, if there's anyone you should be blaming it should be..."
Markov cut her off as the band of refugees that were supposedly going to join the Aviation Force, being herded by some guards, began to approach them.
"We'll save this for later." He told her. "For now, we deal with these Aliens."
The Aliens group finally reached the two of them. Markov observed them, realizing that they were a diverse bunch. One of them looked like his old pet salamander he had back in New Moscow. As he continued to observe them, his sister came forward and greeted them.
"Greetings, I'm Lieutenant Yoslav of the Systems Alliance Aviation Force, 88th Air Wing, 444th Tactical Fighter Squadron. I suppose you all will be staying with us?"
The aliens looked to each other, unsure of what to do. One of the guards herding them gave one of them a nudge.
"That's your cue to answer." The guard said.
The Alien that was nudged, one of those slick, amphibian looking aliens, sheepishly answered.
"Yes. When we boarded the ship that transited us from Batarian territory, they told us that we were to be sent to a military base, and that our assignments would follow soon."
The Alien spoke fast, and in a relatively high pitch. It reminded Markov of a bookworm back in his high school.
"Thank you... I'm sorry, but I don't know your name." Natalya asked.
"I'm Mareon Damar... I'm a male." the Alien said as an after thought.
"Indeed, Mr. Damar. Now, if you would please follow us, we will take you to your quarters." She said as she beckoned them to follow.
Markov and Natalya, as well as the guards, lead the group of Aliens to the barracks that they would be staying in. As they walked, Markov finally decided to ask questions of his own.
"So, Mr. Damar, tell me about your ah... people." He asked.
"About my race?" Damar asked for clarification.
"Yes." Markov answered with a nod.
"Well, where do I start?" Damar asked more to himself than to Markov. "I, and some of the others with me, am a Salarian. We evolved from an amphibian species close to ten million years ago. We lived in the planet Sur'kesh, a planet mostly covered by various types of marshes and swamps, before we colonized the stars and made contact with the Asari."
"And which one of you lot are these Asari?" Markov then asked.
"That would be us." One of the blue, female looking aliens answered.
"I see Miss..." Markov trailed off, not sure of her... well, presumably the alien was a her, name.
"Tala T'mai." She answered. "We Asari still aren't exactly certain how we evolved the way we did, all we know is that the first 'modern' Asari appeared around eighty two million years ago."
One of the guards let off a whistle of astonishment.
"Y'all ladies have been around for a long time." The armed guard said.
"Quite literally." She answered. "We can live up to a thousands years at best, maybe give or take a few hundred years."
"That sounds like a lot of time to waste." Natalya commented.
"It is. Most of my people's young spend a couple hundred years doing Goddess knows what out in space before finally slowing down and becoming responsible individuals. Granted, there are outliers, but still." Tala told her. After a while, she continued again. "Of course, due to the war with the Turians right now, many of them choose to join the military instead."
"They're not being conscripted?" A guard asked.
"No, conscription has been a concept alien to the Asari people until we met the Krogan. We are the oldest democracy in the known galaxy, and we tend not to enforce our will through military means. The largest conflict that ever occurred in our homeworld, Thessia, only encompassed half a dozen major nations, and didn't even engulf half of a continent."
"No world wars huh?" Markov commented.
"World wars? This one is confused." The oddest Alien of the bunch, a floating jellyfish, asked.
"Wars that practically included all countries on our homeworld. Never had one?" A guard said.
"This one would have believed that a war of such scale would be apocalyptic." the floating jellyfish responded.
"Oh, yeah, we did too for a while. Then we did it... thrice." Markov joked.
Apparently, the fact that this was a joke flew way over the Alien's heads -or at least whatever constituted a head for them- and were all terrified of the prospect of not one, but three wars that encompassed the entirety of a planet bound civilization.
"Thrice?" Tala asked, somewhat shocked. "How did your species stop yourselves from total self destruction? The Krogans didn't hesitate from using WMDs en masse in their first and last world war."
"Whoa, you're telling me there're aliens out there living in space Australia?" A guard commented.
"I don't know what an Australia is." Damar said. "But I'm guessing that it is an inhospitable landscape filled with deadly, hostile, and mutated animals?"
All except one of the guards just snickered and chuckled at this.
"Wankers." the lone guard said.
The group finally reached the barrack that was assigned to them.
"Well folks, this is where you'll be living for the duration of your service." Natalya now told them. "You have today off. Get settled, get some good rest. Orientation starts tomorrow at 0600."
"Oh-Six-Hundred?" An Asari asked for clarification.
Natalya completely forgot that the Aliens probably had different ways of measuring, or at least mentioning time.
"Six o'clock in the morning... the clock in your quarters will tell you." She tried to explain.
"Any further questions?" Markov asked.
Whether it was because there genuinely was no more questions, or because they were unsure of what to ask, Markov didn't know. When they didn't ask him anything in the following five seconds, he dismissed all of them. Once all of the Aliens and the escorting guards had entered the barrack, Markov sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Christ, we're in for a real mess." He said to her.
"These are interesting times, Sergei. You should be grateful." She replied in jest.
"In some places, that's considered a curse." Sergei returned.
-000-
Colonial News Center: The first batch of Alien refugees, as per President Harper's controversial program, has arrived this week, starting in the edge colonies. Mr. Hugo Von Brandenburg, spokesperson of the newly formed Foreign Affairs Department has said that the Alien's mandated work shouldn't be too disruptive on general activities, and that the average Alliance citizen doesn't shouldn't need to expect seeing Aliens everyday. He states that the refugees are not coming in large enough numbers, and that they'd be limited to certain areas anyways. He did mention that those who work in government facilities in the outer colonies are more likely to meet them, but are not guaranteed to do so. This statement seems to have placated many of the somewhat uncomfortable members of the Nationalist Party, and to a lesser extent, the xenophobic Terra Firma party. Hopefully, our corespondents will be able to obtain an interview with these refugees sometime in the future, though Mr. Von Brandenburg has stated that he'd rather let the Aliens acclimatize themselves first before doing anything as public as that.
Citadel Central Broadcasting: Intense battles continue along the frontlines as our valiant Allied races push forward to defeat the Turian Hierarchy. With the deployment of Battlefleet Unity, the Turian Navy has faced defeat upon defeat in the field of battle. This is a major turning point in the war, and experts are predicting that we may be entering the final stages of this long and massive conflict.
Free Batarian Network: The vile Hegemony forces have taken control of Torfan and moving forward with their attempt to re-subjugate the Batarian people and it's allies back into slavery. This is just more reason for us to fight harder, to ensure that those who come after us can live a free life, without slavery.
-000-
A/N:Hey guys, I'm finally back. Got caught up in a couple projects, some academic, some completely personal. That and my friend got me dragged into For Honor for the past few weeks. It's fun but frustrating at times.
So next chapter, the Humans finally enter the Galactic stage officially. Ambassador Goyle certainly wont be making things easy for the Council, and there's no doubt that the Council won't take the Humans holding refugees lying down either.
Also, quick note for those of y'all that might be confused with my username change. I'm changing it to better match up with my other social media accounts. I like to keep a certain sense of synchronicity among my accounts and I've already long since moved past my Dovahcheese username.
The next update might slow down a tick due to the upcoming exam season in my uni. Hopefully I can update before then, but I make no promises.
Also, for anyone interested, I have an Ace Combat and Skyrim story in the works. Expect one of them to release in a few days after this chapter. They should be a short series, maybe only 4 or 5 chapters long, so it's not going to eat up a lot of time from this one. As I mentioned a couple chapters earlier, I'm kind of getting burned out writing Sci-Fi all the time and need a little variation in what I write to keep the creative juices flowing.
As always, thanks for reading. Leave a review of your thoughts or PM them to me. All feedback is precious to me.
Again, thanks for reading, and enjoy the rest of your day.