Ch.: 3 The Calm

Good grief, I know I said the next chapter would take a little bit longer. But didn't think it would take this long. I am so sorry for taking so long with it. Though the good news is that I have a rough idea of this story will go, I'll have to think of the finer points as I go along. The general idea is to split it into four "books" the first serving as more of an introduction to the series. Serving to set up the events to come, and how this world works. The other three will be my version of the Mass Effect trilogy. I even have a good idea of how to end it, the trouble now is, getting to that ending.

As for why I took so long, well let's just say some stuff came up (nothing series mind you) and I got out my flow of writing. It took me a long while to get back into that flow, back I'm back hopefully to stay.

That out of the way, on to the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or Tokyo Ghoul.


The Citadel, Councilor Tevos's private quarters:


Tevos threw the data-pad to the other side of the couch tired of reading the status of the war. A war that the Citadel was on the losing side of.

She got from her seat on the couch messaging her temples. 'Goddess, how could this be happening?' Two years ago she had been one of the major leaders in council space during a golden age of peace. The worst she ever had to worry about dealing with would the occasional pirate attack on a council colony, something that could be solved either by diplomatic means, sending a Turian fleet, or have a Specter handle it.

But now she had to deal with a major invasion of Citadel space from an extremely hostile alien race. Creatures that look like they were the result of some twisted science experiment gone horribly wrong. All attempts at diplomacy had failed miserably and resulted in the deaths of many good men and women. Sending the Turian fleets was only slowing them down and causing the deaths of many good men and women. Sending the Specters in wasn't doing much good either and wait you guessed it resulted in the deaths of many good men and women. What in the goddess's name were they suppose to do against an enemy that refused to negotiate or perhaps is incapable of it, didn't discriminate between military and civilian targets, and didn't seem to care how many losses they took (not that they were doing much damage to them anyway.). Not to mention some of them were able to turn the average citizen into monsters that made the Ardat-Yakshi look like Elcor younglings in comparison.

She looked to her bedroom sorely tempted to go her bed and sleep, and dream that this nightmare wasn't real. Maybe drink that bottle of Illium Wine she been saving for special occasions, until she blackout, and woke halfway through tomorrow next to a Krogan. She shook her head, getting rid of the thoughts. This was not the time, she couldn't afford the luxury of ignoring the war like so many of her kind wanted to, she had a Council meeting to attend in an hour, dealing with the war, and the refugee crises with the Batarians.

The Batarians, she scowled the thought of that revolting race brought a bitter taste to her mouth. They had to break one of the most sacred laws passed by the council, opening a relay without knowing where it went, and for what? To expand their decrepit empire? To gain new resources and perhaps a new race to enslave? Damn them all, they had always been a thorn in the council's side. Breaking one law after another, and daring to claim it was apart of their cultural heritage. Finally, they had gone too far and as a result, unleashed a horror on the galaxy that looks to be far worse than Rachni. A horror that was currently pushing back Council forces back on all fronts. 'At least they finally got what they deserved.' She thought darkly, it's just too bad that these 427s as everyone was calling them weren't satisfied with exterminating the Batarians. If they some manage to survive this ordeal she would see it that the Batarians would be several punished.

Tevos took a deep breath, trying to call herself. Blaming the Batarians for this whole mess wasn't helping her or anyone else for that matter. She walks up to and looks out a window that gave her a breathtaking view of the Citadel. They would find a way to get through this. To win the war. They had with the Rachni war and the Krogan Rebellions, they would be victorious. It wasn't a matter of if they could win, they had to win. For the sake of the greater good of the galaxy. Through victory, they would return to the peace that her people had tried so hard to preserve for the galaxy. They had to see to it that enlighten civilization would survive. No matter the cost.

She returned to reading the war reports.


April 3rd 18: 47, Quarian migrant fleet, QSV. Rayya:


Koris knew exactly where to find Rael when he was in one of his moods. He also knew what the exact thing that put him in said mood, the Terran's use of AI. The moment that "Helen" had announced it- her presence he knew his people would receive another bombshell from the strange species they had met. And what a bombshell it was, organics and synthetics working together in peace. An idea that the Citadel, Protheans, and many Quarians proclaimed was impossible.

Koris like many others throughout the galaxy had been taught that AIs were dangerous to organics. That the moment they realized that they did not need organics, they would turn on them and exterminate them. For many, the Geth were proof of this belief. Organics and synthetics could not co-exist.

Koris was not like most people, or even most Quarians. He questioned this idea and often wondered if his ancestors had acted too rashly when they discovered the emerging sentience of the Geth. His beliefs did not make him very popular among his fellow Quarians, and to this day there were still those opposed his place on the admiralty board, decrying him as a Geth apologize and a board-line traitor.

Finally arriving at his destination, a little-traveled almost forgotten corridor of the Rayya. One with a viewport the offered a spectacular view of the migrant fleet. He came to a stop, right next to Rael.

He looks out the view to see a sight that always took his breath away. The Migrant fleet in all of its glory. Koris was never bothered by what the other races said about his people, the insults, the accusations they never phased him. He was proud to be Quarian as much he was proud of having the name Vas Qwib Qwib. Looking at the fleet he did not see a sad broken people or group of thieves. But a proud strong people who have survived hardships that no other race has, a people with a unique and vibrant culture. Looking at the fleet he saw all of this and more. But at the same time, he saw something else. He saw how fragile it all was, and he saw the hubris of his people.

"I thought I'd find you here," Koris said to his oldest friend. The only response he got was Rael turning his head to look at him for a moment before returning his gaze to the fleet. "When was it we first found this place? We were what? Ten? Twelve? Stumping upon this place while trying to hide from security Chief Hisa'Ceelun after causing some mischief. Keelah we were a mess back then." He said shaking his head. "It's a wonder the fleet survived until our pilgrimage." He heard a chuckle from Rael.

"Than our Pilgrimage came and we became the Galaxy's problem," Rael said laughing.

"Yes, if I remember correctly we caused the Turians as much grief as Han did," Koris responded with a laugh of his own.

"Those were simpler times weren't they?" Rael said his mood taking a more somber form. "Things were so much easier back then. Before we became the youngest Admirals in the history of the fleet. Before this war with the 427s, I mean the Dragon Orphans. Before…" He trailed off.

"Before we found out it was possible that organics and synthetics could co-exist in peace." Koris finished for him.

Rael held his head down in deep thought, after a moment he looks up at Koris. "Koris is it possible that… that we were wrong? We could have made peace with the Geth if our ancestors had not been so … brash?" He asked the last part of question trailing off in uncertainty.

Koris thought for a long moment, he looked to the fleet outside. The symbol of both his people's ingenuity and of their greatest mistake. For the longest time, he and a small but vocal minority of Quarians believed that their ancestors and been too quick in their decision to shut down the Geth. They believed that like any other lifeform would have in their situation, the Geth had tried to defend their right to existed. If his ancestors had taken their time to assess the developing situation more closely, and perhaps had approached the problem more like a First Contact scenario. Then maybe the genocide of their race would have never occurred. Their worlds never burned, and their people free to walk about the galaxy without the need for environmental suits, or to be insulted and ridiculed by the other races. It may even have ushered in a golden age not only for the Quarian people but perhaps for all of Citadel Space as well. But his words had all ways seemed to fall on deaf ears when it came to his other fellow Quarians, and he would be a worst called a Geth apologize and at best ignored.

But now after today's events, he and the others had finally been vindicated in their views. For beyond the relay designated by the Citadel as 314 was a species that not only created an AI but made peace with it. As a result of that peace, the so-called Terran Federation had flourished for almost a century. More so than the other races would have in a similar time-span.

For him, the answer was a clear yes. But before he could voice his answer to Rael, he stopped himself. Was it that simple? What if the Geth were inherently unstable? What if all AIs were? Were the Terrans deluding themselves into thinking that they had made peace with their synthetic creations? Had they by some cosmic miracle created the first and only stable AI in the galaxy? The more he thought on the subject, the more doubts and what-ifs plagued his mind. After a while all he could say was. "I don't know Rael, I honestly don't. It's easy to look back and say, yes. But in reality, we weren't there at the time. We didn't get to know the thought process behind our ancestor's actions. For all, we know there may have been arguments for peace with the Geth, but were ultimately ignored. As for the Terrans their an entirely different race, races." Koris corrected himself, remembering the Terrans were two different species. "They have an entirely different thought process than we do, so it's not fair to compare their history with ours." He finished.

"Perhaps your right, my old friend. But what do we do now? Rumors of the Terrans AIs are spreading throughout the fleet. I'm not sure how our people will react when we confirm those rumors." Rael said.

Koris had heard about those rumors on his way to find Rael. From what he gathered his people were starting to divide themselves into two groups over the topic. The first wanted to avoid the Terrans and their AI creations, and the second was wanting ally with the Terrans. So far the two-act cordially towards each other, but that could change once the Admiralty board confirmed the rumors. Not to mention the reaction they'll get when the existence of Terran Ghouls was confirmed, and the 427s were in a runabout way their fault. Keelah, if he knew he was going deal with stuff like this when he became an admiral, he would have rejected the offer and let it be someone else's problem.

"We'll have to be careful, we cannot afford to antagonize these Terrans." Koris finally said.

"On that, we can agree," Rael said. "Koris do you think we can set up a meeting with one of their AIs, perhaps that Helen we meet? I- I want to learn more about her people." His voice started to trail off to a low whisper. "Perhaps find out a way to take back the homeworld without destroying the geth"

Koris smiled behind his mask, it seemed that may yet be hope for peace between the Quarians and Geth. "I think that can be arranged.


April 3rd 19:35, Shanxi: F.V.S. Victory


"That sums up my report, Admiral," Grayson said, finishing his report to Admiral McKinley. Grayson saw the man sit back in his chair with a sigh, running his hand through his thick red hair.

"Damn it, Gray, here I thought you finally got stuck with a boring posting. But no, no, no you just had to go and screw that up." He said in mock exasperation.

Grayson smirked to himself, at his old friend's jive. The two had met in each other during their first year in the Naval Academy and struck up a long-lasting friendship. "You're the one to speak. You always seem to find trouble where ever you go. The pirate fiasco over Celesta comes to mind."

"That's only because I spent too much time with you, and caught whatever causes you to find so much trouble. I think the only reason why they promoted you to admiral and put you over Shanxi was in the hopes that you wouldn't cause them too much trouble. Clearly, that was a mistake." McKinley said through laughter soon joined by Grayson. The two enjoyed a good laugh before the mood took on a more serious tone. "Tell me, Gray, do you think these Quarians are trustworthy?

"I wouldn't have made this report if I didn't think they were," Greyson responded calmly.

"In that case, I'll pass on your report to the rest of the admiralty with the recommendation to immediately mobilize our entire Military. First to secure Shanxi, then to spread out across the galaxy and aid the Council races in repelling the Dragon Orphans. Speaking of which how do we stack up against them?"

"Based on the information the Quarians provided us, on a technological scale, we're not all that far behind them. Granted we have some technologies that they don't, which gives us an edge in some areas."

"Such as our use of AI."

"Exactly. Military wise," Greyson let out an audible sigh. "That's harder to say. But if I had to make an educated guess, we could give the Turians a run for their money."

"If that is true, then why are they being overrun so badly?"

"That can be attributed to two key factors. First, the Citadel fleets are designed to fight more conventional enemies. Namely pirates and warlords."

"And the Dragon Orphans are by no means a conventional foe," McKinley said grimly, which got a nod of agreement from Greyson. History and their own experiences with the monstrous beings more than showed that. "The second factor being?"

"They don't have A.R.C. technology." In the years leading up to the Second Dragon War the need for RC cells to create weapons able to combat the growing threat of the Dragon Orphans, became more and more apparent with each passing day. However since at the time most counties had given Ghouls equal rights, RC cells could only be collected from willing donors, and volunteers were in short supply. Limiting their ability to fight the Dragon Orphans in an effective manner. Then came a breakthrough a few years before the start of the 2nd Dragon War, the creation of artificial RC cells or A.R.C. technology. While at first, the artificial RC cells were inferior to the ones found in ghouls or even humans, they were still sufficient enough to combat the Dragon Orphans. Eventually, in the years leading to, during, and after the 2nd Dragon War, A.R.C. cells were perfected and could be used to produce high-quality materials to be used in all facets of life, civilian and military. It was the vital competent in ensuring that both humankind and ghoul kind survived the Dragon Wars. "Without it, they can't kill them at the same rate we can." He finished

"Speaking of what is their kill ratio?"

"About one to five. A will oiled squadron can kill fifty Dragon ships." The average Dragon ship was about half the size of a Terran frigate, which measured at four hundred meters, and where vastly inferior in both firepower and durability. But where they lack in quality, they more than made up in sheer quantity. "The Citadel defiantly possesses powerful ships."

"But that means jack shit if the Dragons can send ten ships against one, and hundred after a squadron." McKinley summed up.

"Exactly. Unlike us, they can't kill them fast enough to make a real difference. They've done well just to slow their advance down. But that's all their doing, slowing down the Dragon Orphans. If something does change soon, they'll be overrun and wiped out." Greyson grimaced the thought of almost a dozen races being eradicated, it didn't set with him. Judging by the expression his counterpart was making, it didn't sit well with him either.

"And by something, you mean the Federation fleet swooping in to haul their asses out of the fire."

Grayson almost chuckled at the phrasing of the words. "Yes sir, granted we alone will not be able to defeat the Dragon Orphans. But what we can do is bring their offensive to a screeching halt, and force an indefinite stalemate."

"Which will give the Citadel races the time they need to rebuild their forces, and us the time to build our forces up and formalize an alliance with them."

Grayson nodded. "That would be the ideal plan Admiral. Based on what the Quarians gave us, it's the only way we can win."

The red-haired Admiral looked like he was in deep thought for a few moments before he spoke again. "Alright, I'll forward your recommendation with my full support. In the meantime, you make sure Shanxi stays safe long enough until reinforcements arrive. "

Easier said than done. He thought himself. But, at least they had the advantage of having an advanced warning of a coming dragon attack. That was more than most planets in the Federation got. "That I will do. The Civilian population is being evacuated right now. We're getting everyone we can off-planet. The Quarians have even offered a few of their ships to help." That garnered a look of surprise from his old friend. It came as a surprise to him too, especially with the fact that they knew that his people used AI. For a fleet of refugees who had been mistreated and distrusted by the galaxy at large for over three hundred years, they were a rather generous people. Of course, no synth would be allowed to come, understandable and not a problem either. Any Synth that did not volunteer to defend the planet, a very small number mind you, just had to upload to the main Federation network and transfer themselves to another system to getaway. "I know it came as a surprise to me too, but I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. With their help, we'll get at least a few thousand people off. However, the rest of the colony's population will have to be taken to the shelters."

"How soon will the Quarian fleet be leaving the system?"

"Tomorrow morning sir, they'll be heading to the Jericho relay. From there they'll proceed to the Cronos system where they'll drop off the evacuees at the local colony. I've already sent word to them, so they'll be waiting for them."

"Good, the less we have to worry about civilian casualties the better. How long do you think you have before that Dragon fleet comes to a knocking?"

"Given how hard the Quarian heavy fleet was fighting the DOs and maneuvers the fleet pulled to try throwing them off," namely jumping at random from system to system. "I'd say at best we have four days."

"I don't suppose that the Quarians might have been able to lose them?"

Greyson gave the man a pointed look, at his wistful comment. "McKinley this is over forty-two thousand ships we're talking about here. No amount of random FTL jumps to different star systems is going cause anyone to lose them, not even the Dragon Orphans. They may not be the smartest things out there, but they're not that dumb."

McKinley chuckled ruefully. "Wistful thinking on my end. Unfortunately for you, it's going to take at around five days before you get any reinforcements. Do you think your forces will be able to hold out for a day or longer? Assuming your correct in estimates that is."

Greyson rubs his chin, a grim expression forming on his face. "Yes, we'll hold. With the addition of the forces I called in from the surrounding systems, we have four hundred ships to defend the planet in orbit. On the surface, Williams commands a Garrison force with fifty thousand men and women ready to give their lives for the Federation, and however many volunteers from the civvies." Grayson recited off. "He is getting the capital city ready for a full-on attack, establishing chokepoints, kill-zones, and other nasty surprises for the Dragon Orphans. To say the least we'll be prepared for when they come."

McKinley nodded. "Good, now all I have left to say is good luck. If you make it out of this, the next I see you in person, drinks are on me."

"A bottle of Martian château 2370 sounds nice," Greyson responded with a smirk. McKinley tilted his head in acknowledgment before the screen went dark. The Forty-seven-year-old Admiral slumped in his chair, a tired sigh escaping his lips. "I feel like I could sleep for a month after the day we had." He said to no in particular. First contact with an alien race, learning from said alien that there are about dozen other spacefaring races just beyond the relay, and learning of the renewed threat from the Federation's greatest enemies. Truly, today had to be one of the longest in his life, and he knew the days to come would only get longer.


April 6th 10:17, Near the Shanxi relay:


The creature felt the vessel return to normal speeds, as it and it's many siblings sail across the celestial plane. It could feel the waves of excitement and bloodlust from its lesser. Soon they would feast upon their prey, their warriors long since deposed of. It felt the vessel pick up the scent of its prey, the swarm of old, decrepit metal vessels in which the weak gathers lived in. The excited whispers of its lesser brethren growing louder. The scent led to a life-bearing orb. 'More food for the swarm.' It thought it's hunger ready to be filled.

The scent led further of- wait it felt a something above the orb. Something familiar, vessels that were like its own but different. It looked into the old memories to learn what the things were. Then the creature that was the head of its swarm, felt rage beyond anything it had felt before. 'Kill.' From deep within it roar and thrashed about, blinded by anger. 'Rip.'

There above the life-bearing orb was the old enemy. The first prey, the progenitors. The ones that drove the creature's ancient ancestors from the cradle. 'Devour.' The ones that could harm them like none other. 'Kill.'

As the creature let out a primal roar, it was soon joined by countless others. 'Kill. Rip.' A deafening chorus of shrieks and swells like something that could only come from the depths of hell. 'Kill. Rip. Devour.' Forgetting about the hunt of the prey that led them here, it commanded it swarm to surge towards the vessels of the hated enemies. 'Kill. Rip. Devour.'

A single mindless intent drove them.

'KILL.'

'RIP.'

'DEVOUR.'


I hope you enjoyed the chapter. The poll for Kaidan's Kagune is still up, I'll close it once this story is finished.