Chapter 3. Jack Harper


19 Galactic Standard Hours after the Crash, 2125 CE, CSS D'Kyos

The silver, asari made envoy vessel silently drifted through the void of the newly discovered,inhabited solar system. Named after the Matriarch Siisra D'Kyos, the asari who had negotiated with the Batarian Hegemony after the regime had seized the independent colony Esan resulting in the release of most of it's inhabitants, the crew of the vessel had once more been handpicked to act as a first contact team in order to follow in the peaceful foot steps of it's name sake.

Once more Tariss M'Tous straightened her dress, after all first impressions were usually the most important impressions, and looked at the time. There were still a few minutes she could use to prepare for the meeting. Deciding that she should know as much about the reason they were as she possibly could, she brought up her omni-tool to look at all the information they had over them for a final time.

Like most of the space faring races inhabiting the known galaxy, these 'humans' were bipedal and seemed to be capable of living in the conditions favoured by most other sapient races. They were obviously capable of using the mass relay network, suggesting at least a basic mastery of the mass effect. She kept reading through the first reports and came to a halt on the picture of the first human they had seen without a helmet, a naval officer that had contacted the turian cruiser responding to the survey ship's distress beacon. Looking at the creature, a patch of dark fur on his head, concern washed over her. However it wasn't the uncanny similarity between her own people and him that concerned her, no it was something far more worrying that. The worry she felt was caused by the naval formation this 'Captain Gates' was in charge of, the dreadnought-analogue and its escort ships floating above the planet, most likely inspiring a sense of dread in the yahg below as they wondered if the strange alien craft were there for them.

A justified dread.

Their green hulls, as far as the scanners of the D'Kyos and the THS Angelus were concerned, were slightly less durable than those of average council war ships and first readings suggested that the vessels in fact lacked kinetic barriers, instead projecting an as of yet unknown energy field around them that the salarian technician aboard the D'Kyos believed to be capable of deflecting not only objects but also energy, something their own shielding technology was incapable of doing. But the differences didn't stop there. Instead of using a spinal-mounted maingun, the ship seemed to use most of the space usually occupied by a dreadnought's maingun for something else they had yet to discover as the scanners of the D'Kyos hadn't been able to penetrate any further, the strange shielding technology ,either on purpose or as an unknown side effect, interfering with it. But the ship itself wasn't the only reason to concern, the number and size of its escorts also suggested that whoever they had come into contact with had either committed their entire navy to this meeting or possessed far more naval vessels than any of the non-council members. Joining the largest alien ship were twenty two vessels of smaller size, ranging from frigate-analogues to cruisers to something in between the two.

The last time a fleet of this size had taken part in a first contact had been when the Turian Hierarchy had stumbled onto the Citadel Council during the Krogan Rebellions.

As the D'Kyoss continued to advance towards the diplomatic vessel of 'humanity', which was as far as they had informed them a quickly repurposed military ship roughly the size of a turian frigate, she also wondered as to why these people didn't possess a diplomatic ship. Did they not wish for cooperation with other civilizations or had they simply given up on it due to past events? Had they even encountered alien life before or had all of their encounters turned hostile? After all they were obviously building dreadnoughts. When one combined that fact with the number of other ships present in the system, it was reasonably to believe that they weren't exactly new to space travel or strangers to war. Behavioral analysts believed that the construction of a dreadnought was usually triggered by either a prolonged conflict between multiple planets or a war with another, hostile race. The asari hadn't built ships of that scale until the Rachni Wars and neither had the Salarian Union, the volus,the quarians, the elcor or the hanar.

Even the Batarian Hegemony, at the time already an aggressive regime, hadn't created a single dreadnought until centuries after contact with the council. Only the Turian Hierarchy had managed, or rather bothered as far as the pacifistic part of her mind was concerned, to create warships of such scale before encountering another alien race as their Unification Wars caused them to construct their first dreadnoughts. The again one had to consider that the Turian Hierarchy had been the civilization of highest individual development upon contact with the Citadel Council, a feat that may very well be challenged now.

First encountered seven hundred years after the Rachni Wars and well into the Krogan Rebellions, the turians had already fought a devastating war with their own colonies before making contact with a volus trade ship fleeing from krogan raiders. Before then the turians had independently established a larger colonial empire than the asari or the salarians had managed to do before encountering each other. In fact most scientists agreed that their growth had only been slowed by the unique biology turians only shared with the quarians, their dextro-amino acids. Due to most worlds in the galaxy being based on levo-amino acids, a common theory among the scientific community was the idea that had the turians not been limited by a biological factor, the Hierarchy would've been even more powerful than the Citadel Council by the time they encountered each other.

In her opinion the current balance of power was far better for the galaxy as a whole.


In another part of the ship

Ambassador Iss had gotten exactly two standard hours of sleep within the last twenty standard hours. Anyone else would be incredibly tired by now.

However being a salarian meant that he only required a fraction of the sleep his turian and asari colleagues needed to stay sharp. On the contraty, he was buzzing with energy and excitement at the thought of being the salarian that set a new race onto the path of joining the Citadel Council and the galactic community as a whole. After all the members of the Citadel Council always profited from a new associate race. In the past the new arrivals hadn't come close to matching the big three in terms of development, scale and technological understanding and as such the Asari Republics, the Salarian Union and the Turian Hierarchy could make each associate depend on them in their respective fields of expertise. It was a fair deal really, the Council would offer diplomatic ties, technology and protection for star charts, cooperation and mining rights.

The asari profited from new races the most as they'd become new clients for their Element Zero trade, the rare material responsible for the mass effect. The first race to discover the Citadel held claim to most of the biggest mineral deposits in the known galaxy, controlling the largest share of the market not only because Thessia and other early asari colonies were the site of vast Eezo deposits but also because they used the wealth and influence generated by the material to maintain their monopoly. This policy was one of the few most of the loosley connected states making up the Asari Republics shared.

While not in the same way as their allies, the Salarian Union could also profit from new races coming to the galactic stage. The ruling dalatrasses tended to offer outdated technology to the lesser advanced associate races in exchange for seemingly worthless asteroids or barely hospitable planets the Union used to sublty increase its power. Where others saw a world that would make for a sorry colony, the salarians saw the opportunity to terraform an uncontested planet to support their ever growing population and where others saw just another asteroid filled with metals found all over the galaxy, the Union saw the potential site for another listening post.

Iss brought up his omni-tool and went through every piece of information they had about this new civilization, most of which happened to be their military technology. Apparently the race still used primitive weapons based on gun powder and lead bullets. This was a good thing for the salarians, the dalatrasses of the more militant realms had already voiced their interest in emptying staches of outdated weaponry in exchange for mining rights they could use to further develop their respective planets. Once the race realised the disadvantages of their guns, they'd be more than willing to take that trade. He switched the orange hologram and it displayed the next report, once more relevant for the more militant parts of salarian society. The lack of kinetic barriers on regular infantry men. As the report of one Lieutenant Aventius indicated, the human soldiers lacked modern kinetic shielding instead trusting hardsuits of an as of yet unknown but still resilient composition to stop projectiles. While the Union would never give up the state-of-the-art barriers used by STG or their naval infantry, surely there was something to gain from dusting off the countless barrier projectors built during the Geth War. Perhaps a look at their infantry armor would give valuable insight into why they didn't feel the need to shield their soldiers.

The third report he looked at was also written by the head of security and mentioned a mobile, humanoid fighting platform, a semi-corrupted video file attached to it. Ambassador Iss pressed play, the disrupted footage starting up not a second later, and felt his already big eyes widen with each second of the recording he watched. Combat mechs weren't exactly new to the galaxy and everyone had heard the stories of giant geth combat platforms tearing apart quarian infantry formations during the war on Rannoch. Yet this one was very different from the already existing designs. Between bursts of static, he could make out the large, humanoid figure in the distance. It moved with a speed and grace thought impossible of a construct of that size and if the burning jungle it was carving through was any indication, it inspired a terror in the yahg forces around it. The recording cut of just as the mech shrugged of a volley of tank fire, taking little visible damage from the salvo before dashing off into the direction it had been shot from. It would seem that he had just found something that could interest the Salarian Union far more than any second-grade planet or asteroid. A technology like this betrayed a mastery of robotics and virtual intelligence that could rival even that of the Quarian Conclave at the height of its power shortly before their downfall at the hands of their own creations.

Sending the report to STG, salarians liked to win their wars before they even started and as an old salarian saying went, the allies of today could be the enemies of tomorrow, the ambassador kept reading. The report went on to describe that one such machine was destroyed in a miniscule nuclear explosion, hinting at its power source, and that one pilot had been killed during it.

The ambassador doubled back and read the last sentence again, a pilot?

During his first viewing the salarian had been under the believe that the machine he was looking at was just that, a machine. How could a living being possibly steer something that complicated with such ease? The movements were far too fluid and precise to be created by anything but a very sophisticated virtual intelligence, yet the report on his omni-tool made it clear that these machines, no they weren't machines, they were some sort of combat suit, were steered by a living, breathing person inside them. How had they achieved something like that? How could a person so fluidly control something that big?

He definitely found something the Salarian Union needed to get their hands on. There were so many possible applications of a technology like that.


In another part of the ship

Luctius Bellarian was different from his fellow diplomats because like most turians, he had spent a reasonable part of his life serving in the military. He wasn't a career politician. While his colleagues had climbed the political leader of their societies, he had served in the Turian Naval Intelligence, TNI. His past work in the shady world of galactic espionage was one of the reasons he had been selected to act as the Hierarchy's diplomat on this occasion. He was more observant than most of his fellow turians, he was sharper than most salarians and most importantly, far more patient than most asari. The Turian Hierarchy knew that every time a new associate was encountered, the asari and the salarians struggled to get the biggest possible advantage out of them, consolidating with each other while sidelining the rest of the Citadel Council, associates and fellow Council members alike. They had done it with the drell, they had intended to do it with the yahg and now they'd attempt to do it with these new arrivals.

The Primarch of Palaven had been clear when he had called in Bellarian.

Not this time.

While the naval intelligence officer turned diplomat was certain that his fellow ambassadors were currently going over the reports for the tenth time just to make sure they were perfectly prepared for the meeting, he felt no need to do such a thing. Years of dangerous had taught him that he was prepared and very capable of the tasks put on his shoulders. Otherwise he wouldn't have been the one to be granted the responsibility of achieving them. The Turian Hierarchy put their faith in him and he wouldn't disappoint it. But even as he reminded himself of his professionalism, he couldn't help but look forward to the meeting. This 'Human Systems Alliance', in their first contact with the Council, had displayed traits greatly admired by turian society. To not turn away from a stranger in need and to heed a plead for help, even in the face of danger, was one of the pillars of turian society. No one would've known that their ship had picked up the distress call and no one would've known if they had ignored it. According to his culture, the truest test of character was the one no one but the person tested bared witness to.

It was a test, as far as Bellarian was concerned, that these strangers had passed. The list of survivors from the CSS N'vas Thelo stood as a testament to this believe, even if the minority of said survivors were turians. He shook his had not in sadness but in respect, such was their duty. It was a mantle they had taken up when entering the role of the peacekeepers of the Council and there was no higher calling for a turian than his duty. The asari crew that had survived, had done so because turians had given their lives to buy them time. Whoever they were in these lives, those turians had earned their place with the spirit of their legion. They had brought honor to their unit and would be remembered for their actions on this faithful day. Yet it wasn't just the turians that had given their lives on this day, no, the strangers he was about to meet had made a similar sacrifice, only the fact that it had not been their duty to do so setting them apart from the latest casualties of the Hierarchy's promise to the galaxy.

His omni-tool buzzed and he stood up from his desk and opened the door of his office.

It was time.

"We've finished docking with the alien vessel. Members of the diplomatic envoy and security team, please report to the airlock," the voice of the salarian captain declared through his ear piece, the translator helping him understand the otherwise completely alien language of the person in command of their ship. He walked through the white corridors of the D'Kyoss and after a few steps met up with his salarian colleague, who's face lit up upon spotting him. He was wearing the usual robes any diplomat of their people donned shortl before an important meeting. Iss had yet to pull up the hood of his robe, which would cover a good portion of his head, as salarians believed that during negotiations only the face was important, their culture had opted for covering the rest of the head in formal meetings altogether. Bellarian would've laughed at the notion if it weren't his people who were still painting their face to mark their home planet. Every race had a weird tick if one bothered to look deep enough into their culture. Asari would spend centuries roaming the galaxy looking for excitement, the hanar had their soul names, the elcor always felt the need to state how they were feeling before talking and the batarians placed way to much emphasis on which side the head of the person speaking to them was tilted towards. If only that would be the biggest flaw of theirs.

"There you are Luctius. I haven't seen you since we hit the relay," Iss stated as they continued their path. "Are you well?"

"Yes I am, as to my absence, like you I prepared for the meeting," the flanging voice of the turian declared, even if it wasn't the truth.

"Truly exciting, isn't it?" the salarian replied. "Tell me, have you seen the recordings of their combat mechs?"

"That I have, Iss," Bellarian replied, trying his best not to sound too annoyed. While he didn't have a personal issue with the salarian, he didn't like just how talkative the tall, greenish amphibian was either. "Very impressive, useful as well."

"Think about the possibilites the technologies behind it could give to us," the ambassador replied, the individual words of his sentence almost blending together due to the rapid pace in which he talked. "Even outside of warfare."

"I'm sure we'll learn about these mechs in due time," he reassured his companion both out of politeness and in an attempt to shut him up. As they walked past the cabin of Tariss M'Tous, the matriarch that would represent her people in this meeting the diplomat left her chambers as well, the unrivaled, almost ancient grace with which she carried herself typical for people of her standing.

"Hello, Ambassador Iss," she greeted with a smile before offering a simple nod to the turian," Bellarian."

"Matriarch," he returned the greeting, well aware of her intentionally leaving out the title only recently bestowed on him. He had done his research, Matriarch Tariss M'Tous had a lot to say about the turians but little of it was positive. She was part of a small but present group of powerful asari that saw his people as far too militaristic for their own, or rather the galaxy's, good.

"I take it you are prepared?" she asked as she took her position between the two.

"Yes," he replied after a much longer reply of his salarian companion.

"Then we shall begin," the matriarch instructed before the group began walkign forward.

Both parties of the meeting had agreed to meet half way in the airlock tunnel now connecting their vessels. They would arrive without any security details, a reasonable decision considering that the humans had displayed no signs of hostile intend up to now and begin the talks on the neutral grounds in the center of the tunnel. The human government, the so called Human Systems Alliance, would only sent one representative and they themselves would speak as much for the Citadel Council as they'd speak for their own respective governments. They stepped into the chamber dividing the rest of the D'Kyos from the now connected airlocks and waited. The airlock closed and a voice announced that decontamination would now begin. After all no one wanted to carry over any bacteria until it was certain that they wouldn't do any harm. After the thin fume washed over them and dispersed itself from the room, the doors in front of them opened and the beginning of a new chapter of galactic history was written.


32 Hours after Contact, 5. October 2383 AD, HSASV Agincourt

Originally the Agincourt was supposed to be retrofitted with several new torpedo batteries at Arcturus, the biggest naval yard of humanity besides the facilities above Earth and Luna but when an envoy was needed, the frigate had been picked to carry Baxter Martell, a representative of the Ministry for Alien Relations, to the diplomatic meeting. The brunette man was currently walking towards the airlock as he was about to open diplomatic relationships with three advanced civilizations, an even the had trained for for the better part of the last twelve years of his life. It was a big responsibility to be the selected first contact diplomat of the ministry but until very recently, it had mostly been seen as an assignment one took if they wanted a secure position in the government without actually ever having to work. While it was far from the truth, he understood where the sentiment had come from. The ministry had been established at the dawn of the HSA when humanity had still been optimistic about the prospect of encountering another space faring race after finding both the ruins of an alien outpost on Mars and encountering alien fauna and flora on the three colonies founded before their unification, Terra Nova, Horizon and Arcadia.

But as his people further expanded into space, that optimism began to fade with every time their search turned up only more ruins or simple alien life. With every decade that passed, his ministry grew more irrelevant as the belief that mankind had missed the great phase of galactic life grew more predominant in his society. A belief he had grown to accept as well, at least until he had been woken up by a very excited Minister Victor Kadlec.

"How's that for never going to achieve anything, Mr Roberts?" he chuckled at the thought of his late high school teacher who had always hated his guts. He turned the corner of the grey corridor to find the airlock of the vessel in front of him. While both sides had agreed to meet without guards, a fireteam of the navy's special forces was currently waiting right next to the airlock and just out of view. The team were all graduates of the N-program, a selection process that consisted of seven steps and eventually produced some of the best soldiers mankind had to offer. The four men had boarded the ship alongside him without saying much, they didn't have to. It was generally said that out of a thousand soldiers that applied for Interplanetary Combatives Training, ICT, only twenty would eventually complete the course. Those who did usually dedicated their life towards their mission, creating a reputation for themselves only three distinctive groups within the HSA could rival.

"We got your back, Sir," the leader of the team, one Petty Officer 2nd Class Anderson, assured him as they stepped back from the hissing airlock and Baxter Martell adjusted the glasses that would film the meeting. "Anything happens, we're in there in three seconds."

He threw a grateful nod into the man's direction and opened the airlock, stepping inside after taking a deep breath to calm his ever faster beating heart. After decontaminating him, the airlock shot up way faster than he had expected it to and Martell saw three figures, one envoy of each race, step into the corridor in front of him.

The figure to the right was a 'salarian' if he recalled the report correctly. He was very thin and taller than Martell, his body mostly covered by a robe and a hood. The parts of him that were visible, his face, spotted green skin and was dominated by a pair of eyes far bigger than the report had suggested. In the center of the row was an 'asari', while she looked somewhat human, some of her features just felt wrong to Martell. She could probably be seen as attractive if one managed to ignore the lack of ears and the crest at the end of her head. Her skin was a shade of blue and, like most human woman, she was smaller than him, making her the only member of the row that did not look down on him. Her face was decorated with fine white lines, which did not appear to be natural, and her expression mirrored that of a human smile. Finally the left figure was a 'turian' and by far the most intimidating member of the pack. The alien was covered in skin plates and possessed mandibles, sharp teeth and a blue tongue visible through the small gap between them and his actual mouth. If Martell had to guess, the pointy end of his, at least he assumed it was a male, fingers were probably retracted talons and the structure of his legs suggested that the alien most likely evolved from some sort of predator. His face had red marks either tattooed or painted on it and if he had to describe the creature, the best he could to was call it a cross between a bird and a dinosaur.

"Snap out of it," he slapped himself, probably to the confusion of the aliens, before opening his mouth when reaching the middle of the tube slightly before the other group. Quick pace was something he had learned in the army, the three years of enlisted service his father had talked him into paying off once more. Deciding that he shouldn't seem intimidated, he took the initiative. "My name is Baxter Martell, designated First Contact Representative of the Ministry for Alien Relations," he extended his hand, hoping the gesture translated to at least one of them. "I was chosen to make formal contact with you."

The asari walked up and grabbed his hand almost instantaneously. At first he was relieved that apparently it wasn't an incredible insult to offer a hand in their culture but then he wondered if the gesture was either more common than he had believed or if they already knew more about humans than they wanted him to know. After shaking it she said something and his ear piece translated it while trying to mimic the sound of her voice. The translator was quickly crafted after receiving instructions from the alien vessel some hours ago and it was a simple design combining the already present translation software with a smaller device.

It was working quite good.

"Greetings. I am Matriarch M'Tous, ambassador of the Citadel Council and the Asari Republics," she said with a tone that had a certain harmony to it. "These are my colleagues," her hand gestured towards the other two as they stepped forward.

"Ambassador Iss of the Citadel Council and the Salarian Union," the amphibian walked a few steps forward and Martell offered him his hand. The feeling of three long fingers grabbing his hand was strange, there was no other way to put it. The grip of the creature was weaker than he had expected it to be and as their eyes met the salarian blinked but instead of what Martell expected, his eyelids moved upwards and his mouth turned into what Martell assumed to be a smile. The salarian let go of his hand and took a step back as the turian moved forward, his foot steps sounding surprisingly soft considering his presumed weight and evident seize.

"And Ambassador Bellarian of the Citadel Council and the Turian Hierarchy," the other diplomat stepped forward and took Martell's hand. It took some composure for him not to draw back in fear of the presumably sharp claws the alien possessed but Martell managed to beat back his instincts only to realise that the turian's talons were either retracted or simply dull.

"On behalf of the Council and the Hierarchy I thank you for saving the crew stranded on Parnack," Bellarian began, a flanging in his voice. "We won't forget this."

The turian let go of Martell's hand and stepped back into the row of the other two ambassadors.

"As representatives of the Citadel Council it is our pleasure to offer humanity the possibility of an embassy on the Citadel," the asari spoke. "The Asari Republics wish for nothing but cooperation and shared prosperity between our people."

"We are willing to offer you assistance in research and trade technologies with your government," the salarian went on. "Furthermore the Union wishes to trade with your kind on an individual level as well. There is much we can learn from each other."

"And the Council is also willing to offer you protection from any enemy should you chose to become its associate," Bellarian's flanging voice echoed through the empty corridor, the lack of a second, individual offer standing out to Martell.

"I'm grateful for the opportunities you offer but I'm only a representative. A deal on this scale will require additional meetings to talk about all the conditions attached to it," Martell explained, " and even then I can't make this decision."

"We understand that but we still wish to trade some basic information," Matriarch M'Tous offered a smile. "We'd like to know more about your race."

"The Citadel Council is always interested in cultural exchange," the salarian added.

"After all, honesty is the surest way towards cooperation," the turian finished.

"Of course, but I also have some questions," Martell replied as he folded his hands behind his back, taking a stance that was both comfortable and non-threatening at the same time.

"We understand and we stand ready to answer every question you have. I propose that we move this exchange to the more comfortable meeting room inside our ship," the asari offered.

"I don't recommend that, Sir," his ear piece informed him as the N7 on the human side of the airlock broke his radio silence. One the one side he didn't think that they'd actually try to harm him while their vessel was still docked to a human warship. On the other hand he didn't know what he was getting himself into.

There was only one way to find out.

"I'd like that very much," Martell finally said. A leap of faith never harmed anyone, right?

"Then if you'd please follow us, Ambassador Martell." the salarian said as he turned to reveal the door behind him.

His feet started to move towards the alien airlock and after only a few meters, he was standing inside the airlock next to the three ambassadors.

"Do not be alarmed, a decontamination will commence before the seal is opened," Bellarian explained just as the airlock shut behind them and a thin fume started to appear around them. He felt a liquid touch his skin but it dried immediately. He chose not to ask why they thought he didn't know about decontamination protocols and soon the white airlock hissed open, revealing the inside of the alien starship to him. Unlike the human frigate, its inside was colored in a bright white color that almost stung in his eyes if not for the bluish light dampening the contrast. The corridors were smoother than the ones on the Agincourt and unlike on the warship, the walls were completely barren, only the doors to adjacent rooms breaking their surface.

"Welcome abroad the D'Kyoss," the asari offered. "It's one of the many diplomatic vessles the Citadel Council uses to negotiate with the multiple races under it's authority."

"Just how many races are there?" Martell said as his eyes quickly adjusted to the new enviroment.

"There are the volus, the batarians, the salarians, the turians, the asari, the hanar, the elcor and the drell," the asari began as he kept count. "However not all races of the galaxy are associates of the Council and only the Turian Hierarchy, the Salarian Union and the Asari Republics belong to the actual Council. The quarians, the vorcha or the krogan do not have an embassy on the Citadel at the moment," she kept explaining before turning to him. "Tell me, have your people ever encountered any other races? You seem very surprised."

"No," Martell admitted. "Everywhere we went, we just found ruins. Before meeting your kind the majority of the HSA Government believed that the galaxy was simply too big and too old to ever find another space faring civilization. Turns out we were wrong, after all this time we foud four in one day."

"If you don't mind me asking, just how long has your kind traveled the stars?" the salarian asked as they walked through the corridors, several crew members looking at him with curiosity in their eyes as the group passed by an intersection.

"Well we first set foot on a celestial body other than our homeworld four hundred fourteen human years ago," he looked at their faces after doing the quick calculation in his head. Of course that number would mean nothing to him. "That's a long time for us, back then we only lived for seventy," he tried to elaborate.

"And how long has your kind utilized Mass Effect technology?" the salarian asked once more, "By this I mean how long have you used the network to travel?"

"Two hundred eighty three years," he answered quickly, the fortunate coincidence of the first mass effect flight taking place in the year 2100 AD playing into his favour. "How long has your kind traveled the stars?"

"The asari discovered the Citadel 2645 standard years ago and the salarians joined us 2585 standard years ago. Said meeting caused the foundation of the Citadel Council," the asari explained as she hijacked the conversation. "Contact with the Hierarchy was established in 700CE and today we mark the year 2125 CE."

"However the Hierarchy itself has been space faring for over two thousand standard years as well," Bellarian quickly added, probably not wanting to be left out of the picture.

"Of course," the asari looked at him as the turian shrugged, "I did not mean to offend you."

"That's a long time," Martell whistled which caused the figures to look at him, the source of the weird sound. "Sorry it's a human thing," he smiled. "I believe it's your turn to ask a question now?"

"Indeed it is. The Council would like to know what kind of government your people use, who represents humanity?" M'Tous questioned as they walked into the meeting room and set down on a piece of furniture that roughly resembled a couch.

"That would be the Human Systems Alliance. Every planet within the HSA votes for a representative to stand up for its interests in the parliament on Arcturus," he explained, finally able to use the degree in political science he had been required to earn for this position.

"I presume 'Arcturus' is your home world?" the matriarch said as she called for an aid to deliver some sort of beverage.

"No, it's just the seat of our government," Martell replied as he declined the offer of a drink. After all, he didn't know just what it was they were drinking.

"So it's a colonized world with the sole purpose to serve as a bureaucratic center?" she took a sip out of the cup. The drink smelled too sweat for Martell's liking. "Impressive."

"No, Arcturus is a space station," he said as all three turned towards him. "We build it and from what I gathered it's not unlike your 'Citadel', just smaller and selfmade."

"How much smaller?" the salarian chipped in as he brought up an omni-tool, probably to take notes. Martell could already tell that his race was the curious kind.

"I am afraid I can't answer that question yet. I am under orders to not reveal sensitive information. My apologies but I hope you understand."

"That we do," the turian said. "I take it my questions about your military fall under these orders?" he said while drinking a blue liquid from a separate source than the asari.

"I'm afraid so," Martell shrugged. "I believe it is my turn to ask?"

"Indeed it is," the matriarch nodded. "What do you wish to know?"

"How does your Citadel Council work?" he asked. "I mean what kind of government is it?"

"That's an excelent question. The Citadel Council serves as the highest authority in Citadel space and acts as a mediator between the races of the galaxy," she explained. "As I already told you, the three members of the Council are the Hierarchy, the Union and the Republics. These three races all elect a councilor who come together to form the Citadel Council. It's acts as executive committee."

"The Council doesn't hold any actual authority over the individual governments but any race with an embassy on the station is required to agree to the Citadel Conventions, a series of treaties introduced after the Krogan Rebellions," the salarian went on. It seemed that the ambassadors tried to talk to him in equal shares. "But its decisions are of galactic importance and usually the opinions of the councilors are those of the races they represent."

"So wait, the races that have an embassy don't actually have a say in what the Council does?" Martell looked at the three representatives. "Sorry, I broke our rule. Go on."

"No need to apologize, I understand your curiosity," the matriarch smiled before beginning to explain. "Any associate race may send their ambassador to make a proposal to the councilors, while they can't take part in the actual vote, their opinions are valued."

"As you may recall my race was encountered at a later point." the turian injected. "A seat on the Council is earned when a race does something that helps the entire galaxy. The Turian Hierarchy stood up to defend the Council from the krogan during the Krogan Rebellions and ss a reward for stopping them we were offered a seat on the Council," he took a sip of his blue drink before continuing, "any race that delivers a contribution valuable to the rest of the galaxy can receive such an offer."

"May I ask another question?" Martell inquired, well aware of breaking the rules he sat.

"Of course, that is the purpose of this meeting." the Matriarch offered a smile.

"You've mentioned these 'Krogan Rebellions' a couple of times now, what exactly happened back then?" he questioned.

"The Krogan Rebellions were a conflict that began shortly before the Council met the Turian Hierachy. The 'krogan'" Bellarian airquoted much to Martell's surprise, "due to the nature of their homeworld, enjoyed a birthrate far greater than that of any other races and when the salarians freed them of the shackles of 'Tuchanka' their population exploded and caused them to require more territory that available at the time."

"As a result, the krogan annexed Council colonies to sustain themselves and shortly after hostilities broke out and war of attrition started," the salarian explained. "Due to their numbers, a krogan victory seemed inevitable given enough time. Our ancestors put up an admirable fight but the krogan were advancing on all theatres of the war in spite of our best efforts. The Council was simply far too outnumbered."

"But all of that changed when we encountered the turians and asked for their aid," the asari took over as she smiled at Martell in spite of the subject. "The legions of the Hierarchy managed to stop the krogan rampage two relay jumps from Thessia. However the krogan, in their violent nature, began to use weapons of mass destruction on turian worlds, the damaged combined with their numbers slowly but surely once more tipping the tide of the war in their favour."

"Eventually we were forced to deploy a weapon called the Genophage on Tuchanka, their homeworld," the turian himself started, "nad it crippled their ability to reproduce and with their biggest advantage removed, the Hierarchy managed to subdue the krogan after decades of brutal fighting. The krogan have not been a threat since," there was a sound of pride in his voice.

"I see," Martell said. As history was written by the victor, he took everything with a grain of salt but to him it seemed reasonable to stop such a dangerous threat from occurring again. After all, he couldn't claim that the HSA wouldn't do the same if the situation called for it. The Fringe Wars had shown just how far his people were willing to go even when facing off against each other, he didn't know just what the HSA would've done to the krogan.

"I'm sorry, I once more broke our rule. By all means, ask me something." he rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, with an apologetic smile.

"Then let's talk about your race a bit more," the Matriarch said. "Your history, your evolution. Surely we can find something that interests us all."

"I will answer all of your questions to the best of my abilities," Martell said as he leaned back into the alien couch-analogue.

"And we appreciate it. To start of why don't you tell us about the rise of your civilization?"


Three Months after the Meeting, 7. December 2383 AD, Arcturus Station

The recording was paused at that moment and the eyes of the Chancellor met the blue orbs of his guest. According to his file, his eyes were experimental prosthetics, given to him after a botched mission caused him to lose his original pair. While he had never seen anything quite like them, he didn't put it past the man's organisation to find a way to keep someone like him in the fight.

"Do you know why I'm showing you this, Specialist Harper?" Noé asked as the man in front of him looked at the paused recording.

"I am certain you're going to tell me that right about now," the taller shifted in his chair, the sigil on his uniform revealing him to be an agent of the HSAIS, the intelligence agency of the Human Systems Alliance, a single red dagger on his shoulder confirming his allegiance towards the most secretive branch of the already shady organisation.

"You counted how many alien races Matriarch M'Tous mentioned?" the leader of humanity asked him instead of revealing the actual purpose.

"Eleven," the man replied. "but we also have to factor in the 'yahg', so twelve."

"Exactly. Eleven space faring races, all of them potential dangers towards humanity," Noé nodded. "Do you know one of the most important priorities of the HSA? A priority these races could threaten?"

It was a rhetorical question, of course he knew it. He had read the field manuals, just like everyone else.

"Ensure the survival of the human race by any means necessary," he answered, his reply sounding almost like a quote from a field manual.

"In order to that, we'll need to adapt. We may need to venture into the abyss. Become something we never thought we'd be capable of becoming," the chancellor looked outside of his office window and into the vastness of space, countless of small dots covering the otherwise black horizon. "I called you here because your service record shows that you're willing to do what's necessary," the monitor shifted from the recording of the meeting to display the service record of one ' Specialist Jack Harper', however unlike most of the times nothing was censored.

"You did a lot of things, Jack Harper," the chancellor began to address him. "First off, I guess I should thank you. It says right here that you foiled my assassination by killing an entire team of Iffy' assassins," a low whistle escaped from the mouth of Noè after reading through the rest of the record. "By all means, you should be a hero. Too bad none this will never see the light of public. Section 13 made sure of that."

"I don't do this for recognition, Sir," Harper said as he saw the years of his service displayed on the screen. "None of us do."

"Which is exactly why I think you're my guy. I need someone that's not just willing to walk the fine line between good and evil but who's done it before," the chancellor said as he hit a button on his computer and the screen switched towards a file named 'Operation Good Citizen'. The screen flickered for a moment before it started to play the footage of a helmet camera. The owner of said helmet slowly opened the door of a prefabricated colonial building, the sun already setting in the background as he crept through a gap just big enough for him to fit through. The songs of birds in the distance revealed that the tape didn't lack the sound of his movements, he simply made none.

"Besides, if you'd do it for recognition you'd be doing a horrible job. Most people, if they ever saw your entire record, Jack, they'd call you a monster," the chancellor lit a cigarette on fire and started to exhale the smoke. "Tell me about what you did on Shanxi. Tell me how you got rid of the leadership of the IFS," the chancellor said as his eyes became more narrow while the smoke settled in the room, the light above them causing the finer particles to appear as an almost golden dust around them.

"I infiltrated the compound and killed everyone inside," he said with a cold voice while the man on screen snuck up to a guard and broke his neck with a forceful twist before entering the room the soldier had been guarding. A man with the emblem of the IFSDF, a white heptagon, was sitting at the desk located in the center of the room and managed to turn around just in time to be shot in the face by the silenced pistol the figure that recorded the operation was carrying. The shell casing went flying through the air only for a grey gauntlet to catch it before it could hit the ground.

"But you didn't stop there did you?" he said before putting the cigarette towards his mouth. The chancellor inhaled, causing the orange tip to glow more noticeable, and looked at the man in front of him, his posture unchanged, his eyes still the same cold blue.

"No, my orders were clear. No survivors," Harper confirmed detached before both returned their attention to the screen.

The figure placed his armored gauntlet on the mouth of an elderly woman that had awoken due to the commotion in the room. He forced her down to the floor before rapidly jabbing a blade into her neck, keeping his hand in place as the blood started to leak from the wound to keep her silent. When her life left her eyes he removed the stained gauntlet and put the knife back into its hold on his right shoulder. Without as much of a reaction, he walked away from the corpse and turned back towards the man, placing a note in one of the pockets of his jacket. Physical copies were popular with insurgent groups due to the HSA's inability to hack a piece of paper. The white sheet started to turn red but its content remained readable and would eventually do its purpose.

"You made sure of that when you killed their families, correct?" the chancellor pressed on as the figure on the screen walked up to another room and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" a voice said form the inside as an armored hand pushed the door open. The man on the inside seemed to realize that the new arrival didn't have good intentions but was to slow on the draw as an armored fist smashed into his face before he could even reach the weapon on his nightstand. The man collapsed and a boot came crashing down on his face, a nasty crack echoing through the screen and into Noé's office. The figure turned his attention towards the screen that duly illuminated the room with a blue glow, deciding that this device would be sufficient. He walked up to the computer and started to download information all the while uploading false evidence. When he was done he started to walk to the door but stopped when he heard a noise coming from the body on the floor next to him. The figure looked at the injured man crawling away from him and turned towards the bed. He grabbed a pillow from it and quickly caught up to the man still trying to escape him. He pressed the white pillow down on the face of the injured man until he stopped breathing, his muffled screams and desperate attempts of clawing at the armored gauntlets having no effect whatsoever.

"It had to look like they killed each other. Otherwise it would've made them martyrs. The IFS movement needed to be shattered from within, not by an outside force," the specialist explained his action. "Infighting would've resulted in severe civilian casualties and survivors would've nullified the claim of infighting. I needed to make the story convincing."

The man in the video, back then known as 'Illusive Man' continued to creep through the compound. He shot two guards who had been just a second short of raising alarm after they had heard the screams of their superiors and didn't even bother hiding their corpses. The specialist took a sharp turn to the left, dispatching another guard that had been about to fire and came to a halt in front of a circuit box, tearing its protective casing open before pulling out all the wires. The lights went out and the recording was coated in a green filter as he moved through the darkness without being spotted. He shot three more IFS soldiers before he reached a door connecting this compound to the next, spotting another guard with his head towards the starry night and his back towards the specialst. Harper used his knife to tear open the throat of the young separatist without hesitation and the teenager made a gurgling sound as he was trying to talk while his stare drove into the faceless helmet of his killer. He let go of the body and the soldier collapsed in a pool of his own blood, his eyes wide open, still taking in the stars above them.

"I know, I was the one who gave those orders." Noé muttered as Harper entered another building, this one slightly smaller than the other one. He moved through the hallway until he almost stepped on a puppet wearing a pink dress, stopping his left foot only a few centimeters before he would've made contact. Taking care to avoid giving away his position by crushing plastic toys under his armored boot, he avoided several more toys as he moved through the dark corridor. He finally found his next targets in the living room, having fallen asleep while watching a movie. Whether out of mercy or convenience, he killed the couple before either of them could wake up with two rapid shots to the head. The uniform of the IFS officer, naturally a dark red already, only turned redder as the blood of his wife started to leak out of her head and on the cloth that covered her shoulders.

"In our aim to ensure humanity's survival we will have to do things any sane person would consider outright evil," the chancellor said as the Harper in the room kept his eyes locked on the screen while the Harper on the screen heard a sound behind him. He watched himself turn around with his pistol lifted towards the noise, finding a young girl still in her pajamas in his sights.

'What's going on here, who are you?' it sounded from the screen as she rubbed her eyes. "Where's my mo-"

The video froze as fear settled in the girl's eyes upon seeing her parents corpses on the couch behind the specialist.

"I believe that I have an assignment that will require a man with your mindset," Noé said as he nodded towards the screen. "I need this man."

"For what?" Harper smashed his fist on the desk in a surge of anger before he straightened his back, their eyes meeting once more. He reclaimed his composure once more. "What do you want me to do, Sir?" he corrected himself and addressed his superior in a more formal way. The chancellor shoved a tablet towards the agent as the screen in his office turned black, never to reveal how Harper had acted.

The two capitalized words were the first thing Harper's artificial eyes noticed. He recognized the first one from history class. 'Cerberus Initiative'. Cerberus was the dog that guarded the gates of hell from any would be intruders but he was also responsible for keeping any demons from venturing into the realm of the living.

He opened the file and read it's content.

Several ship names stood out to him almost immediately, among them four new cruisers, their crews vetted and approved by HSAIS, the blueprint of a new class of dreadnought attached to them as well. There were theoretical papers on the effect Element Zero could have on unborn children, reports of four separate accidents in 2382 AD that had caused populations to be exposed to Eezo dust, something called the 'BAaT' and a short summary of the biotics observed in several of the species they had encountered. Next there were the star charts the council races transferred after the meeting which highlighted key locations within the galaxy. there were progress reports in regards to research projects like a highly theoretical advanced stealth drive for their frigates and the schematics of 'borrowed' turian weapons retrieved on Parnack. One of the files described a hybrid weapon based on mass effect technology merged with the SR-7, the so called 'SR-8x'. He found information about Parnack, the homeworld of the yahg as well. A detailed scheduel of observation and a standing order to quarantine the planet, to be enforced with deadly force. Further down the intention of establishing a dedicated science division was also mentioned.

Whatever this was, it was big.

Harper kept reading, stumbling onto a register that included approved personal. One of the folders inside included the names of candidates for a combat task force, which were supposed to be small strike teams, conducting black ops operations. Inside there were service records, psychological evaluations and combat scores. Out of curiosity he opened one such evaluation. 'T. Holderman 07072364-TH-88351'. He enlisted during the closing months of the Fringe Wars, missing the war only by a few weeks but was present during the battle on Parnack. There he displayed a lack of empathy for the alien foes but earning both a promotion and a recommendation for the N-program as a result of his action. The marine was currently in N2 phase at ICT and had apparently scored ninety seven out of a hundred possible points during the initial combat rating. Now Harper was curious, so he opened another evaluation, then another and another. There were two distinctive groups among the candidates, one were bloodied veterans that had proven themselves during the Fringe Wars and the other were young but promising soldiers that seemed to have a natural affinity for warfare.

Noé was handing him a small army and some serious thinking power.

"What I want from you is something very important, Jack," the chancellor offered the specialist a cigarette and he took it, it had been a few years since he had smoked but if there was ever a time to fall back into bad habits, it was right about now. Noé leaned forward to light it and soon enough more smoke settled in the office. Both men stayed silent as they let the nicotine calm the tension that had built up in the room and after a few minutes the chancellor exhaled again and put the cigarette stub into the ash tray before looking into the blue, artificial eyes of his chosen candidate.

"I want you to be the dog that guards humanity from the demons lurking at our door."


Codex: Independent Fringe Systems

Originally a political movement that aimed to cede multiple systems at the edge of human territory through peaceful ways, the IFS ,or as some call them 'Iffys', was founded in 2370 after a pirate raid caused the death of 314 human settlers on 'Port Bigby', a newly founded colony in the area known as 'Attican Traverse'. As HSA law dictates, colonial worlds are by law denied the right to maintain armed militias, instead being defended by units of the HSA Army Colonial Watch and local police forces. Due to sabotage, the transport vessel carrying the battalion assigned to Port Bigby got stranded for seven days, waiting for repairs just two relay jumps from their target. Following a security leak, a pirate group active in the area learned of the delay and used the time to raid the planet multiple times, massacring colonists and police alike as local authorities tried and failed to put up resistance.

After what would be coined as the '314 Incident' by human media outlets, smaller worlds in the Fringe called for a law giving them the right to create armed militia groups to prevent another 314 Incident, the stories of their suffering gathering enough support on the six biggest colonies in the Fringe. Moved by the request of their people, the representatives of seven planets, the biggest among them the densly populated colony Horizon, finally brought the issue to the HSA parliament, setting off a heated discussion within human space. After several weeks of debating the request was called 'unconstitutional' in a statement of the government following a majority of the 'political heavy weight' core worlds voting against the proposal in favour of increasing military spending and increased anti-piracy operations in the region.

This denial led to a rise of the IFS' popularity across the seven planets that most vocally supported the new law. Feeling both estranged from the core worlds and betrayed by the HSA, the number of IFS supporters spiked as both disgruntled veterans and active servicemen native to the Fringe Worlds joined its ranks, causing the organisation to grow more militant, rapidly abandoning its more peaceful roots, and more populist than before. By 2375 AD, violent uprisings became a common occurrence in the region, the IFS only profiting from each crackdown as they began painting the HSA as a foreign government seeking to impose its will upon the Fringe Worlds and their resources without caring for the people 'fueling their senseless expansion'. By early 2376 AD the IFS had turned from a localized group into a mass movement sweeping over all worlds of the Fringe, turning new colonies and developed worlds such as Elysium alike against the distant core worlds.

In late 2376 AD militias trained and armed by the new IFS rose up on the seven planets that had originally supported the law at once, killing or capturing those members of the Colonial Watches that didn't join them beforehand before declaring the 'Separatist Seven' as independent from the HSA and setting off the 'Fringe Wars' ,(see Entry Series 'Fringe Wars'), the most destructive conflict in human history.

In 2381 AD, after five years of brutal warfare, the IFS leadership met to discuss the path of the war on the world Shanxi and after disagreeing on the degree of power each of them should hold, a coup attempt by one of it's leaders led to violent infighting and the death of all but one major IFS leader. When the public learned of this incident, both unrest and confusion broke out across the planets held by the IFS. The following lack of popular support and several strategic HSA victories on Mindoir, Amaterasu and most importantly Horizon effectively ended IFS resistance, allowing the HSA to reclaim its status as the singular human government body on 8.9.2381.

It is generally agreed that the HSA would still be fighting the Fringe Wars and more worlds would've joined the rebellion had the IFS not lost its popular support and leadership within such a short timeframe.


A/N: So we just cracked 60 followers. Niiiiice.

I hope that last scene sounds as good to you folks as it did to me, I wanted to give a character of such importance for the franchise give a backstory that fits into this universe. I'll use the Codex more in the future. I love expanding the lore. I really don't have much to say, besides let me know what you think guys.

See you around next time.

Edit: As of 27.7.17 Chapter 3 has been remastered.

For the record, I retconned some things I originally hinted at but never actually addressed for the sake of the story's flow.