AN: Here we go again, another rewrite trying to do a bit more world building in this chapter, whilst explaining something that peeved me off about ME's handling with Levo and Dextro foods, Human's eat Dextrose (Sugar) all the time so why or even how something being dextrose would kill someone unless they had a genuine allergy I have no idea.
Besides, Levo and Dextro are protein bases, which means so long as the food stuff lacks the opposite protein base, there would be no issue in culinary exchanges.
Also, I take no responsibility for what drunk me writes and if anyone can spot the Star Trek Reference you get a virtual cookie.
And I would like to say a huge thanks to my friend Strat, who worked on this chapter himself and has thus become a co-author, congrats you've made a rod for your own back!
October 31st 2206 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2150 CE [Common Era].
Deep Space, Unmapped System.
SSV LION R-106, Officers Pub 'The Crown'.
[+15 Days Since Departure.]
[Play: Bear McCreary: Child's Play Motion Picture Soundtrack - Theme from Child's Play (Feat. Mark Hamill).]
October 31st, better known as all hallows eve, or halloween is a celebration every year dedicated to remembering the dead, including saints, martyrs, and all the faithful departed; a day which has since lost its original meaning however it was a day still celebrated, so celebrate the crew did in small ways.
Human crewmen could be seen wearing black and white camouflage paint making their faces resemble skulls. Those with amazing cosmetic skills were able to make several of the crew look like shambling burnt ghouls.
Creepy horror music played at a low level whilst engineering had utilised the smoke generators used in fire drills to produce a low level mist that would sit around knee height.
For any of the crew that were off-duty, various communal areas including the pubs, were showing human made horror movies, including some of the biggest cultural hits such as the original Terminator and its sequel Terminator 2, as well as Alien, and Aliens, Predator and some of the more recent hits from the last decade.
The movies of an older pedigree had a sort of character to them that the modern movies just seemed to lack; ironically enough the quarians actually liked the Terminator franchise, which definitely came as a surprise to their turian crewmates as well.
Meanwhile in the middle of the festivities, sitting in and amongst a small gathering at the Crown's bar, his face donning a human skull, Liam held a glass of magners cider in his right hand.
Several turian officers had taken the time to organise a get together in the last two weeks so they could have in depth discussions on how both human and turian militaries operated.
Taking great interest when Liam explained the origins of human carrier fleets, the great battles and wars that were fought throughout history on Earth's seas and oceans, the rise and fall of big gun sea based battleships, which eventually came to the topic of today, stealth, and how the Turian Hierarchy's ally the Salarian Union were trying to develop a stealth capable frigate.
Midway through the turian officers' theories on how such a vessel would be able to be built Liam spoke up. "Humanity already has a dedicated class of vessel, we call them prowlers, named after the fictional ship we based their designs off of; they're practically undetectable thanks to the multi layered stealth technology we pioneered in the late 21st century, during heightened tensions in Sol." Liam explained concisely, whilst taking a sip.
"Sounds impressive, how effective is this multi-layered coating?" Asked a female officer with intrigue in her usual flanging accent.
"So, effectively, the Lion only produces a sensor contact the size of a Systems Alliance heavy cruiser utilising only the basic radar absorbing coating." Liam replied somewhat smugly.
The group looked more than a little taken aback at that bit of information, until Liam realised the issue and facepalmed. "You wouldn't know, since you've never seen the Lion on sensors, but all of the Systems Alliance fleet has some degree of stealth capability, we reduce our sensor profile by making sure there are as few sharp changes in geometry as possible, additionally, between all of the hulls is a gel layer which acts as a kinetic impact cushion and thermal conductor of sorts. Prowlers double this by having two gel layers, one between the inner hull and the primary battleplate, the other between the primary battleplate and their ablative armour shell." Liam continued to explain with some enthusiasm.
"Interesting, what about through visual contact? It's well and good having a ship that can hide from radar but what about lidar" asked a male officer who'd taken a liking to the Lions top shelf brandy.
"It's not perfect, but all prowlers are painted vantablack with a sensor masking coating which is ridiculously expensive to produce, prowlers also have a sort of optical camouflage capability in photoreactive panels, small cameras linked to specialist panels detect the spectrum of incoming light making the panels react to mimic the spectrum, any sudden change in the spectrum can confuse the panels making them behave erratically, officially it's not something we've been able to work around." Liam said, taking another swig of cider.
"Unofficially?" Yet another one of the officers enquired, leaning forward slightly.
"With the way ONI is run? It wouldn't surprise me that they've sussed it out, they're not the most forthcoming lot when it comes to trade secrets. To be honest it wouldn't be a surprise to me if we have a Prowler tail of sorts, no way would the fleet risk the Lion on the off chance that if somehow we fail that she falls into an unknown state's hands." Liam replied frankly, placing his now empty glass on the bar top, signalling the barman for a refill, before turning back to the group.
"A guarantee, making sure an enemy can't use your own technology against you later on. I can respect that. Spirits, a lot of the admirals and generals, both in the service and retired, will respect that action." The female officer acknowledged with a bobbing nod.
"Anyways, have we had any real trouble reported, any gripes between our people and yours?" Liam asked his usual question during these talks.
"Surprisingly few, it's guaranteed that at some point during crew exchanges with any of our allies, that friction arises. Even though Alliance doctrine and regulations are liberal when compared to our own, a lot of reports show you and yours in nothing but a good light." one of the few sober male officers reported courteously.
That's when the second turian spoke up once more. "Being that both us and humanity have a military tradition going back thousands of years, it's easy to respect humans when compared with the other races. Asari are too pacifistic to do what needs to be done, salarian's operate in hunter-packs, scouting, learning and adapting to the situation but never directly engaging in open combat, unless all other possible actions have been exhausted."
"Sometimes, I think that groups like 'Palavini Primus' have a point. Council commitments are strengthening the Council as a whole but weakening the Hierarchy itself in the process. We have the maximum possible number of dreadnoughts that the Treaty of Farixen will permit, but thirty of those fleets are under the command of the Council." Picking up on the resentment of the officer's speech Liam went for the jugular so to speak by asking my next question.
"This treaty sounds like the London Naval Treaty of old. Explain it to me so I can understand and throw my own penny in." Liam chimed whilst rubbing his chin in thought.
Looking between themselves, they nodded. "The treaty dictates how many dreadnoughts are capable of being launched and utilised by any given race; the Hierarchy gets five dreadnoughts for every three the salarians and asari build, totalling six, whilst all of the other races can have one dreadnought for every five, we currently have in service." Liam nodded in understanding.
One of the female officers continued. "There is a clause in the treaty that permits more than the stated limit of dreadnoughts, but this is given to develop new dreadnoughts to replace those which are reaching the end of their service lives, the Council can't expect us to decommission a ship before developing its replacement."
The comparisons with the London naval treaty were uncanny to say the least, where one treaty limited the number of a specific class, the other restricted the weight of any given class, thinking back on all of the wartime loopholes Britain used to build ships that were thousands if not tens of thousands of tonnes heavier than the London Treaty permitted, when something clicked.
"What is the definition of a dreadnought, the exact words."
A vessel measuring between 800 to 1200 metres with a spinal mass accelerator measuring above 700 metres in length capable of launching a forty-kilogramme round, a few other technicalities were thrown in for good measure but the big three were there.
Liam gave a small chuckle. "Tell me something, what would you classify the Lion, please for the sake of the argument I'm about to give, forget she's a carrier, what is she?"
Taking a good few moments to ponder, each of them unanimously agreed that the Lion classified as a dreadnought, that was when Liam struck. "According to the Treaty of Farixen, the Lion doesn't qualify for one of your criteria."
It took a moment but one of them clicked eventually, it just so happened to be the female officer who twigged first, bringing up the schematic of the Lion which she had somehow managed to download onto her omni-tool.
Liam had to remember to ask about that one on a later date. "She's missing a main gun. The Lion is designed to use fifty turrets, it would be like having a Menae class dreadnought armed with nothing but onarger-snub MAC's. A brilliant loophole, one no one would've possibly thought to counter."
The third officer spoke up from their seat. "It is definitely something our best lawyers would have to look into. It seems to me to be a legal grey area, one which, if exploitable, would have to be capitalised on immediately. Though, thinking about it, the Systems Alliance, as far as I have researched them rely on dedicated carrier fleets. It would be a hell of a struggle, but if we can develop our own, we could circumvent the treaty completely."
"It would be a complete doctrinal overhaul, but I suppose we're inside the largest marketing tool to convince high-command the validity of such a force. I can see it now, our primarch walking through these halls wondering what the hell research and development have been doing for decades."
A chorus of chuckles broke out, the female officer raised a glass. "A toast to better days ahead, and finally being able to circumvent the biggest pain in the Hierarchy's collective ass!"
"Here, here!" They finished before breaking away from the pub to head back to their rooms. It seemed the longer they worked together, the more viable their mission became, and while turian-human relations seemed to hit it off pretty well, they still had a long way to go. Friction would come eventually.
And it did….
December 25th 2206 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2150 CE [Common Era].
Deep Space, Unmapped System.
SSV LION R-106, Maintenance Corridor 1701.
[+70 Days Since Departure.]
Just not in the way Liam was expecting.
Needless to say, catching a male turian petty officer going at it with a brunette female corporal in one of the maintenance corridors was a sight Liam wished he could bleach from his mind, but here it was, like watching a god-damned train wreck in progress.
Quickly turning around and leaving out the nearest maintenance door, Liam waited for the pair to finish their little session and, just as he had predicted, both chose to leave through the same door he had just left through. Both walked straight past his position.
Liam snuck up behind the two and pulled them into a friendly headlock. "Now then you two, I'd like to keep what I watched you two do private, so let's keep it civil yeah, okay, good." The two of them were like a deer caught in headlights.
"Right, well, I'm not going to intervene so long as you know that if this interferes in any way with your duties, I'll make sure you two will be doing nothing but menial work in waste disposal. Now that's out of the way, I sure as shit saw too much in those couple of seconds, but I know what I saw with the two of you going raw, shouldn't you guys be, I don't know, going into anaphylactic shock?"
The atomic blush the Corporal gave was something to witness. "Well, Sir, we were using protection up until the last time we did, when the johnny broke. I haven't had a reaction since then, and that was two weeks ago."
Thinking of his next words Liam sighed. "Get your asses to medical and get yourselves checked up. I'm not going to breach doctor-patient confidentiality, but it's pretty common knowledge that, according to the codex, levo-dextro relations have some degree of reaction. I'll have the CMO's write up a generalist report on why there doesn't seem to be a reaction between a human and a turian. Understood?"
"Aye sir, we'll head straight there." Both said without hesitation.
"Good, if your team leaders ask, tell them to talk to me and I'll explain that you are on medical notice until you've been cleared for anything other than light duties." Both nodding, Liam released the pair from his friendly headlock. Hopefully the embarrassment will make the two think twice about their choice in using the damn maintenance corridors for any further rendezvous.
"One hell of a way to celebrate Christmas." Liam muttered to myself as the pair walked off to medical. "This is going to be gold to tell Kamara, I just won our little bet." He smiled as he once again took to the maintenance corridors to cut through the hustle and bustle of the crew.
December 25th 2206 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2150 CE [Common Era].
Deep Space, Unmapped System.
SSV LION R-106, Officer Commanding (OC) Ward Room.
[+70 Days Since Departure.]
Listening to various Christmas songs and jingles, Liam supped from a glass half full of bourbon with a small meal sat on his coffee table, and a steel scale model of HMS Vanguard sat dead centre dressed up in tinsel to spruce up the room just a little for the holiday.
Across from me, Ka'mara sat with her own small meal as we laughed at the misfortune of a certain Petty Officer and Corporal couple, Kamara had been kind enough to push a credit slip with 150 credits to me once word discreetly reached her through one somewhat confused turian CMO on her personal omni-tool.
Needless to say the reports would be interesting to read for a little while, with some observation the CMO's agreed that the likely reason why humans didn't react like the rest of the galaxy's levo species was because human diets for hundreds if not nearly a thousand years contained concentrated doses of dextrose in the form of simple sugar.
Humans in a sense weren't just levo, we had some ability to break down dextro making us a swiss army knife of a species.
So with future plans to study a group of humans who'd volunteered their stomachs to the cause would be diversifying their meals with vegetables from the somewhat flourishing turian fauna in our hydroponics, needless to say the reports that would be transmitted once our next comm buoy was deployed would be interesting for the egg heads back home to read.
Maybe if all things went well, a market could be opened up for dextro based crops to be imported to our colonies for human consumption if proven safe to do so and the famers who took to growing the crops could perhaps sell the product back to the Hierarchy at a discount.
After speaking to Kamara all this time Liam had found out that all turians, young and old, were subject to some degree of rationing as dextro based life seemed to be the exception not the rule, so new food sources were few and far between, apparently according to Ka'mara to boost food productivity the Hierarchy paid premiums for massive habitats or swathes of land on planets capable of sustaining dextro fauna in joint council space.
Anything was on the table to get the Turian Hierarchy on board to ally with us, the trick would be to present a deal to them that struck a balance of being good enough that they couldn't refuse and being too good to be true making us look desperate in the process.
If things went to plan, I'd have another two-hundred and eighty days to come up with a viable deal.
March 17th 2206 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2150 CE [Common Era].
Deep Space, Unmapped System.
SSV LION R-106, Combat Information Centre.
[+153 Days Since Departure.]
With the usual sensation of vertigo, the Lion successfully completed her three-hundred and sixth consecutive jump, but unlike the previous three hundred and five jumps, DRADIS lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, sensor pings from close to extreme range all unknown, the potential collision alarm rang throughout the vessel.
Without thinking, just reacting on pure instinct, Liam barked out his orders. "Emergency manoeuvres, Helm, hard to starboard shunt us clear!" Kamara already on point had put her wireless to use as she gripped the war table. "Brace! brace! brace!" her voice rang throughout the ships PA.
Outside, as the Lion careened towards a now panicking alien vessel, explosive single use emergency thrusters lit up the port side in a desperate attempt to shunt herself clear as luck would have it one of if not the entire alien bridge crew had a similar idea and fired starboard side thrusters to increase the odds of avoiding a collision with possibly the largest vessel they had ever laid eyes on.
With barely a metre of clearance between the two vessels local chatter skyrocketed as first responders took to intercept the Lion, which was apparently encroaching further into their system.
"Helm, reduce speed to one quarter. Gunnery, have the gun captains ready for deployment. They are to hold action unless fired upon, have all AF/AM batteries active on defence only level Alpha."
"Aye, Sir." The blonde officer replied as he spoke into his head mounted comm, relaying Liam's given orders to his men. "CAG have alert viper squadrons Red and Blue in the tubes ready for immediate deployment, have 'daggers' mounted to Black and Gold Squadrons my authorisation, I don't want to but we may have to fight our way out of here."
"Aye, Sir." The brunette east-asian female captain of the Lion's air group replied.
Liam looked towards Kamara. "I don't suppose the Hierarchy knows about whoever is pointing their guns at us?"
"Not a chance, Sir. What are the odds that we'll be fighting our way out of here?" She asked decorously.
"Moderate to fair to be honest with you. Smollet, open a channel on all frequencies, send out our first contact package. Let's just hope to God nobody plugged in something that'll insult someone's mother."
Lieutenant Smollet nodded as she made preparations to launch humanity's first contact package, whilst Liam picked up his wireless. "All hands this is the Captain, set Condition Bravo throughout the ship. This is not a drill. I repeat, set Bravo throughout the ship."
To be continued….
AN: A cliff-hanger, what a way to end this chapter, if anyone has any gripes or suggestions, place them in my suggestion box, be warned anyone who puts a suggestion in the suggestion box will be shot for insubordination.
Most of the work re-writing this chapter was more or less reformatting it and removing any continuity errors there's nothing that's been substantially added or taken away sorry to disappoint those who were expecting more than what was done, but tough shit this one was fairly well written to begin with.
I have spoken and my word is the word of the Manperor of mankind even above that of the usurper Doge Vandire.