Chapter 36. The Better Part Of Valour
12:31 Local Time, 28. April 2408 AD, Elysium, Northern Territory
Yesterday the world had been in order, she had been just another officer taking part in the exercises on Elysium, going about her duties like any other day. After a day on the shooting range, she had returned to the barracks and decided to catch a good night of sleep in a real bed before her platoon headed out into Elysium's forests for a week. But instead of being woken by her omni-tool and following today's schedule, she had been thrown into an invasion of Elysium, deploying to the region north of New Illyria to defend a tunnel. There she had been baptized in fire, experiencing first hand what it meant to fight professional soldiers instead of the pirates or slavers some of her comrades had faced before. All things considered, their fight had been short but brutal nonetheless. Five of her marines were dead and nearly half of her platoon had been injured in one way or another, a batarian grenade 'luckily' missing the Mako behind them and instead detonating in their trench being responsible for the majority of those casualties. Shortly after the explosion, Shepard herself had come close to meeting her own demise at the hands of a sniper, only the unknown shooter's choice to kill the marine she had ordered to evacuate a casualty first giving her enough time to avoid that particular bullet. Almost immediately after her first encounter with a sniper, it had become obvious that they wouldn't be able to hold the line against the armored batarian detachment that was moving towards them, a realisation that had caused her to complete a nearly suicidal excursion into the tunnels, stopping the tanks and saving an N7 in the process.
Looking back, it still seemed surreal to Shepard that she had not only lived through all of that but played a crucial role in turning the tide of the battle, only the looks some of her comrades had given her on her way to the makeshift command central confirming that it had actually happened. She couldn't quite say what they now saw in her but it was something different from before, to them she had become more than just their lieutenant.
She didn't know how to feel about that yet.
"With their transports unable to lift off and their advance on the NT bogged down beyond the mountains, we should be in the clear until we're relieved. There's no way they're coming through that tunnel anytime soon and unless they're really stupid, they won't attempt an aerial assault with our SAM sites still intact," Ramos explained as the blue projector displayed several batarian shuttles meeting their demise at the hands of surface-to-air missiles, the moment of impact causing both the shuttles and the missiles to vanish into thin air. "Bottom line is, the Northern Territory is as good as secured."
"What about the rest of the planet, Sir?" the army captain standing next to her asked after throwing a look into the burning tunnel, the thick cloud of black smoke making it impossible to tell if the fire inside was still burning or if the flames had consumed their primary source of fuel by now. His distinctive accent allowed her to identify him as the officer that had shot down the major's plan of running into the tunnel himself and the large scorch marks on the right side of his armor gave her reason to believe that luck was the biggest contributor to his current presence.
"The batarian forces are still holding several minor cities in the east and nearly half their remaining shock troops and whatever armor they have left are rallying for a push into Tavka," the major explained as he looked up from the small projector displaying the area around Tavka, now addressing the shrunken circle of officers directly. Tavka, not unlike the Northern Territory, was another mountainous region located east of Illyira, the former capital of Elysium. Thinking back to the briefings they had received early on during their exercise, Shepard remembered that the city was pressed against a highly inaccessible mountain ridge, making it nearly impossible to assault it from several directions at once unless specialized troops somehow found their way over Peak Tavka, a rather time consuming and unlikely scenario given the combatants involved. "But our forces are encircling the remaining landing sites as we speak. With air support behind their backs, they're pushing the batarians to the edge and our troops in Tavka are already receiving reinforcements from other theaters."
"Can they count on orbital support? If this is anything like before, there'll be a lot of Vothams among that armor. A frigate or two wouldn't hurt," her own superior and the highest ranking marine in the area inquired. The dried bloodstain on his right shoulder clashing with the dark-grey camouflage below suggested that he'd have to seek medical attention sooner than later but for the time being they couldn't spare losing another marine officer. As a look around the circle confirmed, besides her and Captain Kendrick only one other ranking member of Foxtrot had lasted throughout the fight, the others either dead or simply too injured to stay on the frontline. As it turned out, combat didn't care about your rank. Enlisted personal and officers alike had been claimed by the fighting, the stream of Kodiaks evacuating groups of wounded from the landing site behind them standing as a testimony to that fact.
"The navy is saying that they'll be at our disposal within the next few hours. They're taking care of stragglers right now and once they picked up the last of the life boats, their frigates will move in position around Elysium and whatever atmospheric support they can provide will be focused on hotspots like Tavka."
"Understood."
"For now our orders are simple, stay hunkered down in the NT and wait things out," Major Ramos went on as he turned off the small field projector before stashing it back in his combat rigging. "Should your company be needed somewhere else, Captain Kendrick, I'll notify you immediately. Does anyone have any questions?"
"How's the rest of the Verge looking, Sir?" an army lieutenant who had decided against taking off his helmet spoke, the small crack in his visor and the heavily damaged depiction of an eagle on the dark-green surface of his chestpiece making Shepard question if he was even luckier than his captain, spoke up. Adding to the obvious damage his armor had sustained, Shepard noticed that the man's right index finger kept twitching every other time, leading her to suspect that there was more to his injury than one could actually make out by just looking at him. A part of him was still stuck in the previous battle, she couldn't blame him for it.
"Unclear, Lieutenant," his commander sighed before taking a moment to look at the burning tunnel himself. "Mindoir Command is holding its ground in spite of the Blood Pack remnants that made it planetside and our forces on Camelot are reporting the successful destruction of most hostile landing sites but some of the smaller colonies between here and the rest of the Verge have gone dark and until further notice we're working under the assumption that the majority of the batarian fleet is operating in those systems. The navy's scrambling whatever fleets they can muster but council patrols have taken away a lot of our firepower. It'll at least be another four days before they're ready to launch a large counter attack."
"What about our allies, Sir?" the same officer asked as he folded his arms, ever so slightly, suppressing the twitching of his finger in the process.
"Elysium Command has informed me that the turians have called an emergency meeting of the Council of Primarchs," the major nodded as the thought of turian legions descending on Khar'shan gave Shepard an unexpected moment of a joy. With the Hierarchy on their side, the batarians wouldn't stand a chance. How could they? No one had ever defeated the turians in open warfare.
"And our other allies?" the tone in his voice pretty much betraying how exactly he felt about the two other races that could render humanity meaningful military aid now that they were presumably going to war with the batarians. "Is this gonna be another two-man show like before or do the fuckers plan on actually showing up this time around, Sir?"
"The summit is all I know about, Lieutenant. Keep your aggression focused on the batarians in front of you, not the politicians back on the Citadel, are we clear?" the major replied, refraining from any sort of comment on the officer's personal opinion.
"Roger that, Sir."
"I was also told to inform you that we're getting sporadic reports of unsanctioned combatants joining the fight throughout several theaters. While we probably won't be affected by it, I still think you should know."
"Unsanctioned combatants?" the army captain from earlier frowned with frustration. "The damn Iffys are attacking us as well? Opportunistic pricks."
"It's not exactly like that, Captain," the major shook his head as Shepard herself decided to listen instead of speaking up for the time being,"they're engaging batarian forces wherever we're not and run away the moment we show up."
"Rules of engagement, Sir?"
"Officially, the IFS is considered hostile," the major shrugged before looking around himself, presumably to confirm that no one who shouldn't hear the next part of his sentence was around. "But off the record?," he muttered."Every batarian they kill is one that won't be shooting at us. As long as they're throwing themselves at the enemy, I see no reason to stop them from doing it. On the off-chance that they show up here, I'd advise you only to fire when fired upon."
"Understood," the major nodded as Shepard found herself agreeing with his logic. While her father had left her somewhat prejudiced towards the IFS, having fought in the Fringe Wars himself and sharing his views on the group on two rare occasions, she could see why there was currently no point in fighting the people who had it out for the same enemy. The last thing Elysium needed right now was a three-way ground war in which humans killed both batarians and their own kind.
Of course a sentiment like that was a dangerous one to have depending on the kind of company one kept. As a large portion of the early IFS militias had either been veterans or deserters of the HSA's armed forces, HSAIS was swift to crack down on anyone they considered to be too sympathetic to the separatist movement. Being part of the HSA's military and not taking action against IFS forces acting under your noses definitely met what the intelligence service had considered 'too sympathetic' in the past. Even if circumstances like the ones they were currently in were exceptional and the previous attack on Mindoir had seen limited cooperation between local militias and army regulars, Emily was certain that the best case scenario for everyone involved was to not meet each other at all. That way both sides could avoid all kinds of trouble.
"Any more questions or opinions you'd like to share?" the major once more asked, a hint of sarcasm accompanying the later part of his sentence. Receiving no answer, he went on. "Good, Lieutenant Shepard, a moment please. The rest of you are dismissed, get back to your units and stay sharp."
When the rest of the officers left the small circle they had formed to head back to their positions, Ramos rolled his neck before putting on his helmet once more, letting a small grunt escape his mouth in the process. "Consider me impressed, Lieutenant, that was one hell of a stunt you pulled back there," he chuckled while looking at the smoke-filled tunnel once more. "If not for the corps, you would've made one hell of an airborne. I didn't get the chance to thank you yet," the man said while extending his hand to her, causing her to shake it. "You saved our collective asses back there, you know that right?"
"I just ran, Sir," she shrugged after letting go of the hand.
"No need to be humble about it, Lieutenant. I'm not the last one you'll be hearing this from."
"Sir?"
"Lieutenant, when I opened that channel I was convinced that I'd have die to stop those tanks, its why I insisted on doing it myself. Everyone on that channel heard me say it," the man muttered as he ignored the echo of a distant detonation, their effects on Shepard already dulled by their recent frequency. "Yet in spite of that you not only said you'd do it, you actually did it and came back to tell the story. If I were you I'd get used to people calling me a hero. That right there is the kind of story people will remember for years to come," the man chuckled before walking past her, only stopping to place a hand on her shoulder, "Make sure you come out of this in one piece, Shepard. Something tells me when this is over a lot of people will come looking for you. You'll want to be around for that. Now get back to your unit."
"Yes, Sir."
Three Hours Earlier, Armstrong Nebula
"Alright, that looks like last ship of the rearguard, spin up the engines, helmsman," she said as she sat up straight in her chair all the while the blue coat around the batarian warship vanished into the blackness of space. Compared to the relay it had just left, the cruiser seemed tiny and the smaller transports and frigates accompanying it appeared almost nonexistent as they made their way towards the small colony up ahead, intending to destroy whatever human ground forces occupied its surface. Once those vessels could unleash the swarms of soldiers inside, they'd go on to assault the colonists. With the small army unit hopelessly outmatched and a lack of both an HSA naval presence or orbital installations allowing the batarians free reign over space, there wasn't much hope for the planet once the ships got into position.
But just like the flotilla that had the misfortune of stumbling into a system the New Dawn had previously occupied, they wouldn't get that far.
"Lieutenant, sound general quarters," the woman muttered while folding her hands in front of her mouth, her eyes focused on the large screen currently depicting the biggest threat to their ship, the sole cruiser of the formation. While not nearly as sophisticated as her own ship, its gun could still do some damage if left unchecked for too long, making it a priority target. Its destruction would give her both a tactical advantage and a few precious moments of disarray among the batarian fleet.
Originally the Shadow Broker had informed Admiral Drescher that the planned batarian offensive wouldn't be due for another two months, so when first reports of batarian fleet movements had reached her, she had been forced to rush the repaired battlecruiser to the closest, most desolate HSA colony she could find while ordering the remaining cells to prepare for short-notice defense operations, hoping to have enough time to intervene in some places and in turn add to the foundation Mindoir's commander had already laid towards fixing the mess Kamarov had left in his wake. The cloud of broken transports, frozen corpses and drifting batarian life pods in the Kalabsha System was just an early step towards achieving that goal, the battles her comrades currently fought on the ground would be far more important.
As the sirens echoed through the vessel and a red lighting replaced the normal illumantion of the New Dawn's scarcely occupied bridge, she glanced at the terminal to her left to confirm that the VIs which allowed the battlecruiser to run with as little of a crew as she had available were still working as they should. Finding them in the exact state they had been in when the New Dawn had claimed its first kill of the day, she once more slipped into the mindset that had allowed her to win against numerically superior foes in the past.
The trick to achieving victory in situations such as these was to take care of the most obvious threat as soon and as violently as possible. If she could send the kind of dread the battlecruiser had installed in the HSA's sailors down the spines of their batarian counterparts, the odds of the battle would tip further into her favour. Unlike the natural fear accompanying any form of combat, a sense of hopeless terror caused most soldiers to become nearly useless at their jobs, a fact she'd take advantage of.
"They've spotted us, Ma'am. The escorts are breaking off to intercept our trajectory and the transports are making a run for the planet," one of the few flag officers still serving under her explained. Naval captains of the IFS were few and far between these days, she was fortunate to have one of them manning her bridge.
"Plot a short-range jump, get us into optimal range and fire at will. I want that cruiser gone as soon as possible."
"Understood, Ma'am," the officer replied as the New Dawn launched itself through the darkness at a speed thought impossible for a ship of its tonnage. Common logic dictated that the bigger and heavier a ship was, the harder it was for mass effect drive core to accelerate it into an FTL jump, a law that limited just how big and how heavy one could actually built their spaceships to begin with. This was were the unique armor-plating of the New Dawn came into play. Not only was the layer of both incredibly experimental and expensive plates more resilient than the alloy usually used to reinforce the hulls of human naval ships, it was also far lighter. Not only was the New Dawn tougher than just about any cruiser in the galaxy, it was also as fast as an average frigate, a feature that had played a monumental role in its killing spree during the Fringe Wars.
The HSA couldn't stop a ship they couldn't catch.
As two slightly delayed sets of vibrations climbed through the floor of the ship and made their way up her spine, she watched the two pairs of projectiles tear through space. The bluish flicker of kinetic barriers breaking under the force of the first two projectiles of the New Dawn's maingun was followed by an orange explosion swallowing the rear end of the vessel, the next feature that had earned BC-313 its nickname coming into full effect in front of her eyes. Instead of firing all of its four spinal cannons at once, which would cause the first wave of projectiles to be annihilated by any sort of shielding present on their target, the New Dawn's main guns fired in a delayed rhythm. Instead of allowing a foe to start avoiding volleys at long distances until their barriers recovered from initial hits, the New Dawn combined its fire power with a simple yet incredibly deadly trick.
Before the crippled cruiser could make its escape, the third pair of tungsten projectiles impacted slightly above the already damaged section, a sudden flash of white temporarily blinding the camera which had focused its lenses directly on the spot. They had hit something critical, that much became evident once another perspective filled the screen to confirm what she already knew. An explosion in the cruiser's reactor had torn the ship apart, a design flaw Batarian State Arms was either still ignorant of or simply unwilling to fix for one reason or another. While a reactor breach was normally already considered a crippling blow, batarian designs were evidently susceptible to suffering catastrophic chain reactions of unrivaled scale. Whether their emergency protocols were too slow or too outdated or their power generation methods simply inherently flawed, damaging their power sources was the surest way to annihilate their vessels in rapid succession. That much had been her experience in the previous battle and this encounter only added to it.
"Targeting the frigates now," the officer informed her as the New Dawn turned its bow towards the rest of the escorts, a glance to another screen informing her that on their current path at least one of them could outmaneuver them before the battlecruiser could do something about it. While most of their hull was coated in the experimental layer of armor, the hull breach they had fixed didn't enjoy that privilege. Due to a distinctive lack of control over the Fringe's military-industrial complex they hadn't been able to recreate the alloy originally used to build the New Dawn and a detailed scan would allow the batarians to figure out their weak spot eventually. She'd rather not wait to see just how long it would take them to do so.
"Lower our engine thrust to half and prepare for a velocity turn once the two rightmost frigates are destroyed," she ordered, intending to delay their momentum before using the side-mounted emergency thrusters of the New Dawn to prevent the remaining escort from getting a shot at their exposed flank.
"Aye,aye, Ma'am," the dark-skinned captain nodded before her ship slowed down noticeably, the familiar feeling of a maingun discharge once more traveling through the vessel the moment their gunner had gotten a firing solution on the first escort ship.
Returning her attention to the screen in front of her, she saw the first of the boxy frigates start its evasion attempts, the distance between the vessels and the battlecruiser's main cannon velocity rendering the effort in vain. Even before the batarian captain could start to clear the trajectory of the tungsten rounds flying towards his ship, the two volleys annihilated his barriers and cleaved straight through the smaller craft, entering through the front of the vessel and passing through everything in their path, even preventing the reactor from detonating by presumably annihilating it too quickly for the chain reaction to take place. Its sister ship, its crew now starting to feel the terror a vessel such as the New Dawn rightfully inspired, tried to evade its fate by steering upwards. But the enemy captain hadn't counted on how maneuverable his opponent actually was and suffered a fate similar to the other escort, his ship breaking apart in two unequal halves when the maingun's next volley connected with its belly. It wasn't as complete of a destruction as before but it'd suffice. The second frigate wouldn't be of any more concern.
"Execute the high-velocity turn, now," she instructed as she gripped the edges of her chair. Even the inertal dampeners of the battlecruisers couldn't fight the level of force a maneuver like the one they were about to attempt created. As she was pressed into her chair with enough force to throw an unprepared human across the bridge, the lone escort that had tried to flank her ship suddenly found itself face to face with the four mass accelerators running alongside the spine of the New Dawn. "Give them hell, Captain."
"With pleasure."
For the fourth time in the last few minutes the large ship unleashed its deadly payload onto a batarian target, proving once more why the HSA had dedicated an unproportional amount of ships to the sole task of hunting it down. The rounds followed their pattern, first breaking the shielding of the frigate and then punching straight through its armor, whatever armor the batarians used on their ships proving no match to the kind of firepower the Red Dread could unleash. Making their way through the bridge, obliterating every batarian unfortunate to stand in their trajectory, the rounds eventually hit the frigates drive core, the bluish dust glistening in the light of this system's sun vanishing in a flash of white when the damaged reactor once more subjected the escort to the critical design flaw she'd come to enjoy exploiting.
"Landing craft are still headed for the planet Ma'am."
"Put us in between them and broadcast live camera footage across the planet."
As a blue light filled the screens that acted as the defacto windows of the battlecruiser, the New Dawn again leapt through space, accomplishing an FTL jump few people would dare to even try. As the colonists directly below their position became witness to the rare image of a ship blueshifting right above their heads, the batarian transports were justifiably caught off guard by the comparably huge ship suddenly positioned between them and the colony. Unqualified to enter FTL this close to a planet, their pilots began to execute the same kind of evasive maneuvers they had probably been trained to attempt when faced with a vessel presumably incapable of rapid movement. Shooting off into various directions, they figured that the New Dawn's mass accelerators could only target one of them at a time, giving the others ample time to flee. It was a pragmatic approach that would see some of them meet their demise but in their eyes, the survival of the majority outweighed the lives of the minority, a concept that she had always found somewhat questionable the moment the nature of those lives were defined more closely. Was saving a hundred regular people really worth the lives of a dozen exceptional ones?
Sadly for them, four spinal cannons weren't the only weapons the New Dawn possessed. The IFSDF had made sure not to create a weapon that, while powerful, could only fire into one direction. Given how humanity fought space battles, that would've been beyond idiotic.
"Firing missile pods one to seven," the woman in charge of that particular system spoke in a cold, calculated manor all the while dozens of missiles designed to hunt down whatever they locked on to left their batteries, the same mechanism that allowed the HSA's disruptor torpedoes to rapidly close in on their targets activating shortly afterwards. As the screen tracking each of the transports became the center of her attention, the crude, red dots representing the landing craft began to disappear one after another, depicting the violent end of hundreds of lives by peacefully blinking out of existence.
"Any other contacts in the system?" she asked across the silent bridge, the lack of unexperienced personal explaining the lack of victory chants. This wasn't the first victory for anyone on her crew, all of them were veterans of dozens of battles and once you passed a certain threshold the joy of being victorious grew dull.
"No further contacts on our sensors, Ma'am."
"Was the broadcast to the colony successful?"
"Yes, Admiral Drescher."
"Good, then get us out of here. Plot a course for the relay and sent a probe to the next colony on our list. Lets see if we can beat the batarians to the punch for a third time."
"Aye, aye."
As the New Dawn's drive core once more came to life, she began drumming her fingers on the armrest of her chair, a habit she had developed throughout the many times she had personally commanded a vessel. Now that the battle was won and she'd have to pass some time until their probe told them whether or not it was save to keep pursuing their objectives, a small sigh escaped her mouth. What was it that the Batarian Hegemony was trying to achieve here? Why go to war now?
While both sides knew that any open conflict between the HSA and the batarians would eventually result in a human victory, Drescher suspected that the Hegemony aimed to put humanity into a situation in which it was preferable to agree to a ceasefire before the rest of the galaxy, or more specifically the Turian Hierarchy, could join the fight and finally end the war they'd been preparing to start for centuries. It was a solid strategy, if batarian forces managed to occupy the majority of human colonies in the Verge, it wasn't far fetched to believe that the HSA's government would be inclined to look for a solution that didn't result in massive civilian casualties, the same lack of resolve had allowed the IFS to rise to power in the first place. The HSA's navy might have been numerically superior to the Hegemony's own as a whole but it was also more spread out. The HSA couldn't afford to concentrate all of its forces on the Skyllian Verge and as such it would take some time before worlds that were occupied could be reclaimed, time that the batarians could use to demand a favorable ceasefire while holding the colonies they had taken hostage, an action she didn't consider too far fetched given their reputation.
It was ironic, really. It had been the batarians who had cried out against the ruling that allowed the HSA to maintain its dreadnought count under the condition that they contributed to the peacekeeping duties of the three council members. If not for its existence, half of the HSA's fleet would already be well on its way towards the Fringe and by extension towards batarian space. For all its complaints about humanity being exempt from the Treaty of Farixen's limits, the Hegemony hadn't hesitated to use the consequences of the ruling to its advantage.
Of course the success of their plan would largely depended on controlling the worlds that served as the HSA's main staging grounds in the Verge. Without the big space ports of Elysium and Camelot, the HSA would lack rally points capable of sustaining large fleets, in turn requiring even more time to set up the logistical support grid needed for a counter attack and giving the batarians more time to move the majority of their own navy into the now secured region, increasing the pressure for a ceasefire all the more and reviving the biggest issue of fighting a war in this part of the Fringe Worlds all over again, supply shortages.
Luckily for the HSA, those staging grounds hadn't been taken yet. The IFSDF remnants still active on the crucial planets were reporting that the HSA wasn't just holding its ground, they were actually winning. The batarians had miscalculated, not counting on one of the few things she had always admired about the HSA, the grit of the soldiers sworn into its service. One could fault the politicians living their lives within the safety of Arcturus for a great many number of things and would be justified in blaming most issues humanity faced at any given time on their actions but the people she had faced in battle time and again had her respect for a reason. If they were forced to fight on their own turf, they rarely stopped until they were either dead, victorious or both.
With a sizeable portion of their own troops stuck on the planet they had tried to take, the position of strength the batarians had tried to gain in hopes of a swift, favourable peace had turned into their undoing. Many of the tens of thousands of slavers, mercenaries and batarian soldiers who had been part of the first wave into the Verge were now stranded in enemy territory and the HSA's navy was well on its way to hopefully reclaim whatever worlds they had managed to take.
That particular thought caused her to frown at the irony of it. When she had abandoned her post to join the separatist attack on the space port of Shanxi, she never would've thought that the day on which she hoped for an HSA victory would come ever again. Yet here she was wishing them the best of luck in a conflict she herself looked to use to the IFS' advantage.
It truly were strange times she found herself in.
"Relay's clear, Admiral. No sign of HSA or batarian activity yet."
"Send us through, helmsman. If our intel is good, another invasion force will show up within the hour. Let's make it three for three."
"Aye, aye, Ma'am."
27 Hours Later, 2150 CE, Aephus, Turian Naval Rally Point
"Spirits, I don't have to tell you how bad this is, right?" he muttered into the console as yet another company marched into one of the large transports waiting within the confines of the military base outside, both the sound of their feet hitting the tarmac of the distant landing strip in a perfect rhythm and the barking orders of their commanders echoing into his room through the opened window.
"Was worried this might occur," the salarian hologram replied before looking at the invisible floor below him. "Warned batarian ambassador not to attempt this after they left Citadel Council. Gave humanity the guarantee that both Union and Republics would come to their defense."
"I know that you did but honestly, Valern? Did you really think they'd listen to you?" the turian general sighed as his omni-tool buzzed, his adjutant, Commander Melion, informing him that the final Blackwatch teams were now preparing to board their vessels, ready to take on the most crucial assignments of the coming war. "They're batarians, they never listen to anyone that disagrees with them."
"Invasion of batarian space is undesirable," the salarian spy protégé turned councilor began to mumble as Desolas himself was split between performing his formal duties as the acting commander of the Blackwatch and doing something he never could've seen himself doing ten years ago, trying to tell the Primarch of Palaven that invading Khar'shan was a mistake. While Fedorian had understood the situation they were in, the former admiral had been quite clear on the fact that they'd fight as long as humanity needed them to. The Hierarchy had vowed to never allow the Hegemony to occupy another sovereign planet ever again and he knew that his people wouldn't go back on that promise. Until a single batarian remained on a world he shouldn't be on, turian forces would give it their all.
"We can't afford a war, Valern. Harbinger exterminated the protheans, we'll need every ship the galaxy can offer if we want to stand even the slightest chance against him," the general replied while typing a message to the two humans directly in contact with him. They needed to stop their government from doing anything but reclaiming the planets the batarians had taken. He had lived long enough to know that the moment human forces set foot into batarian space would be the moment the Hierarchy would unleash its might on the entirety of the Batarian Hegemony. His people had been waiting for a chance like this ever since the end of the Krogan Rebellions, they wouldn't think twice about it if someone was willing to go along with it. "No matter how justified this war is, we need to stop it."
"Agreed. While council victory is inevitable, invasion of batarian core systems will be costly."
"Which is why you need to do whatever you can to keep the rest of the council out of this mess."
"Defense agreement between the members of the Citadel is not a decision the council can intervene on," the salarian replied. "Treaty is clear on the matter, an attack on one associate is an attack on the entire Citadel Council."
"I'm familiar with the treaty, my people have enforced peace through it for a thousand years," Desolas frowned while finishing up the message, yet another notification from Melion popping up the moment he sent it. "But there has to be something you can do before my people turn the Harsa System into a mass grave. We can't give the Harbinger his first victory before he even shows up."
"Timely ceasefire is our only option. When will the first turian forces arrive in the Skyllian Verge?"
"The day after tomorrow," the general muttered as he received conformation that Director Rei had received his message. He began to pack the terminals he always carried with him and threw another look at the salarian hologram standing in the corner of the room, his body language true to STG's reputation completely unreadable.
"Asari Republics will be slow to render aid. Their opinion on humanity is still divided and unless directly attacked by batarians, the Republican Navy can't act without a mandate. But STG might only be able to delay Inner Cabinet for another day, batarians were always considered dangerous, for some the opportunity to eliminate them is tempting."
"Can't say I blame them," the general grunted. "Do whatever you can to keep your people out of this war as long as possible, even if its just a few days, we'll need them," Desolas added as yet another message of Melion increased the pressure on him. They were waiting for him and soon they'd come looking. Glancing at his omni-tool for another time, he leaned on his desk and stared at the hologram, the expression of Valern now betraying that he had interrupted him.
"Dalatrasses however could be problematic," the councilor added, causing Desolas to growl. He knew that Cozek had been far from popular with the rulers of salarian society, the fact that STG had gone out of its way to convince the Inner Cabinet to openly name a candidate without their consent having poisoned their opinion of this 'unbidden councilor' right from the beginning. Things had only gotten worse when they had realised that the candidate was an STG operative. The Special Task Group and the dalatrasses had never been friendly to each other and naming one of their own as the councilor of their people hadn't improved relations between the two in the slightest. The fact that Cozek had selected his own successor in quite the same manner he had gotten the position had made Valern equally unpopular with them. The dalatrasses hated the notion of losing power, especially to one of the few organisations that could act outside of their control. They had mistrusted the group for a long time and the only source of good will between the two was the fact that it had been STG operatives who had stopped the infamous League of One from adding several powerful dalatrasses to their list of victims.
"You've got to try, Valern," he uttered as a gust of wind hit the curtains next to his opened window, a quick look to his right revealing yet another transport to be the source of turmoil. He was running out of time, especially a general was expected to stick to his schedule, a task he was currently failing at.
"Of course. Will delay them as long as possible."
"Good. Remember, every day counts," Desolas replied as Veltax, one of the three members of his personal guard, informed him that his adjutant was now headed to his office, effectively putting an end to their conversation. "Good luck, Valern."
"I'm not the one going to war, good luck to you, General," the salarian countered, nodding briefly before bringing up his omni-tool, a flick of his wrist causing the hologram to fade out of existence. Desolas drew in a long breath before closing the footlocker next to him. The only thing he could do now was to put his faith into his companions. Starting now, his duty to the Hierarchy would leave him incapable of assisting them and unless they managed to stop this war soon, everything they had achieved up to now would be in vain.
They couldn't let that happen.
He knew that they wouldn't let it happen.
1. May 2408 AD, Arcturus Station
Truthfully, he had known this day would come eventually but he still would've preferred having this conversation under slightly less rushed conditions. While it was a fact that this meeting was just about their one and best shot at pulling the brakes, he couldn't ignore just how horribly wrong this could go if he played his cards wrong.
"I called ahead, she should already be waiting for you, Director," the military police corporal said as one of his fellow guards opened the door up ahead upon spotting them, clearing their path in the process.
The last time he had walked through Arcturus with the intention of informing the acting chancellor of the HSA that both Section 13 and Cerberus were keeping incredibly important information from him, things had been different. The Skyllian Verge hadn't been invaded by batarians, the HSA hadn't been associated with the Citadel Council, there hadn't been a human Spectre and the past actions of the Harbinger hadn't been revealed by a rather unorthodox asari archeologist. When Harper and him had confronted Noé, they had done so with full confidence that he'd understand their reasoning from keeping a secret as important as this from him and that he'd help to keep it that way until the time was right.
He couldn't say the same about the current situation.
Section 13 had operated under a need-to-know directive for decades, carefully picking out what they revealed not only to those outside of their ranks but also their own specialists. No organisation within the HSA was as secretive as their own and at times Rei asked himself if it was a good thing that only a handful of people had unrestricted access to Section 13's entire archive. While some of the things specialists had done should never reach the light of day for the sake of peace, the truth behind the IFS' fall still being particularly dangerous to the HSA's stability, the events he had paid witness to ever since first encountering an Object Omnicron were so indisputably crucial to humanity's survival that keeping them secret for even a moment longer than necessary may very well result in humanity's extinction. He knew that the former ambassador had always hated being kept in the dark and he doubted that she'd react the way Noé had. Even if his own profession left little room for transparency, he could understand the logic behind deeming the things he was about to tell her crucial public knowledge right from the beginning.
It gave him all the more reason to worry about what she'd do with it.
"Thank you, Corporal," he dismissed the guard before coming to a halt in front of the door, his hand hovering over the opening mechanism in a rare moment of hesitation.
He really wished that there was another way to stop the HSA from exhausting itself in a justified war but the situation was forcing his hand. They all agreed, losing even a fifth of their naval assets would be absolutely devastating and while the Hegemony didn't stand the faintest chance of winning against the combined forces of the Citadel Council, they'd still inflict casualties that would take years to replace, years they might not have. Any rational enemy commander would strike when his opponent was weakened and given everything they knew about the Harbinger, it was reasonable to assume that he wouldn't act any different. They didn't know how big his forces were, they didn't know how he fought his battles but they did know that he was without the shadow of a doubt the biggest contributor to the extinction of the protheans.
And that alone said more about their own odds than he was comfortable with admitting.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind for now, he took a rather deep breath. There was no point in delaying it any further, was there? Opening the lock with a single hand motion, he stepped inside the office just as Goyle looked up from her desk, exhaustion written on her face. It was clear that the last days had been long for her, jumping from one meeting to the next all the while preparing the HSA for a prolonged interstellar war. He pushed the idea of using that exhaustion to his advantage down the moment it surfaced, a diplomat with her experience would pick up on such a cheap negotiation technique and in turn react to it, complicating this matter all the more. Furthermore trying a trick like that on someone who was on your side was a sure way to remove whatever trust you had with them. Since he was trying to achieve the opposite of that, it would be an even stupider move.
"You wanted to talk to me, Director?" she asked before returning her attention to the screen in front of her. "Please make it quick, I have to address parliament in fifteen minutes and they hate waiting."
"You may want to reschedule, Ma'am." This would take far longer than fifteen minutes.
"Why?" the woman asked, once more peaking up form the screen, evidently giving him her full attention now.
"There's something I have to tell you and you won't enjoy hearing it," he admitted before deciding that he should just cut right to the chase. "You have to push for a ceasefire as soon as possible. This war can't escalate further under any circumstances. There's a far bigger enemy out there and if we tear ourselves apart right now, we're all doomed. Noé understood that, I hope you will too."
"What are you talking about, Director Rei? What does Noé have to do with any of this?"
Not answering at first, the director sighed as Goyle's eyes narrowed in anticipation and activated his omni-tool, linking it to the hologram projector in the room before pulling up the image of the device that had started this entire ordeal in the first place. As its smooth, purple shape assembled itself in the center of the room, he began.
"This is Object Omnicron, an alien artifact capable of influencing the actions of people through the use of highly sophisticated cybernetic implants," he explained while adding a frozen image of a disfigured salarian face to reinforce the concept. "The first one Director Harper and I encountered on Shanxi managed to turn dozens of IFS soldiers in less than two days and permanently altered Jack's eyes through an as of yet unknown but harmless process. Another one possibly swayed hundreds of pirates before we destroyed it with the help of turian forces."
"Why am I only hearing this now? This is n-"
"Ma'am, I wasn't done," he interrupted the reply he knew would come. They could talk about the whole Harper situation later, right now he needed to make a point. "Following an operation in the Plutus System, we began to realise that the artifacts weren't the threat itself but merely a remnant of a past conflict. Almost immediately Cerberus and Section 13 started to look for the real danger, the creators of these weapons, and in doing so found out that both Blackwatch and STG were looking into the same matter. What they found was even more worrying," he spoke as the footage of an STG operative coming to a halt at the edge of a crater on Jartar's surface began to play with the help of the projector. As the salarian looked down at the massive husk of a starship they had come to call the Leviathan of Dis, Goyle folded her hands in front of her face. When she didn't immediately speak up again, he decided to use the chance to elaborate. "After the discovery of an ancient starship wreckage, we joined forces with them and began following whatever leads we could find on the creator of these things, something we refer to as 'the Harbinger'."
He considered his next move carefully, this might be the most sensitive part of this conversation.
"But our search proved mostly futile until an event you yourself were part of. Sometime in late 2395 a batarian entrepreneur came into closer contact with something closely related to both this ship and the Object Omnicrons, striking a deal with Doctor Shu Qian and launching a raid on-"
"Sidon," she finished.
"Correct," he said before the image of the broken spaceship vanished and an audiofile began to play in its place.
"It doesn't matter if I live or die turian," a deep batarian voice echoed through the room, "our path has been set since our ancestors first sailed through the stars. We never had a choice. None of us. Not you, not me."
"What did you find, Had'dah?" a flanging voice replied, the reaction of the chancellor betraying that she knew exactly who it belonged to.
"The truth. I found the truth," the batarian spoke as Rei focused on the chancellor and not the recording, letting it play for a few more seconds before reaching the crucial part. "You cannot escape your doom," he spoke before two muffled gunshots rang through the office off the HSA's chancellor, possibly horrifying anyone close by. As images of both Qian and the turian Blackwatch officer Elanos Haliat appeared next to that of Edan Had'dah, he gave Goyle some time.
"I assume this truth is why you want me to push a ceasefire?" Goyle sighed before rising from her chair in order to step closer to the projector, turning back to him only when she had gotten a good look at the three people. "Leaving this attack unanswered will destroy all progress we've made to mending the wounds of the Fringe Wars. You know that a ceasefire will drive these people right back into the IFS' hands. If we don't fight the batarians, it'll be the 343 Incident all over again. Whatever this truth is, is it really worth risking that much?"
It was a justified concern. Kamarov's actions had seen the separatists' support diminished throughout human space but ever since IFSDF soldiers had joined arms with HSA forces on Mindoir, there had been a worrying tendency of people forgetting that the red heptagon was still considered the sigil of a hostile force, even when they were fighting the same batarian slavers.
"Believe me, Madam Chancellor, I know better than most people what's at stake here. I fought in the Fringe Wars, I saw first hand what happens when we turn on each other. I spent months being undercover on Camelot, I very nearly bled out on Amaterasu , I snuck my way onto Shanxi itself and I saw Illyria burn in nuclear fire," he muttered his reply,"do you really think I'd ask this of you if it wasn't?"
The uncomfortably long silence that followed was an answer in its own right.
"After this encounter, we had nothing else for years, the trail had gone cold and we were getting desperate,"the director recalled as the images vanished in favour of the chemical compound that Doctor T'Soni had used to reveal the truth behind the protheans' disappearance. "Until an asari archeologist found this."
"Radioactive soil?" the woman blurted out after eyeing the analysis for a few moments, in turn surprising the director himself. He hadn't taken her for a chemist. "What about it?"
"You're looking at a sample of dust taken in the wake of a skirmish with pirates," Rei said as he waved his hand through the air again, causing another diagram to appear next to it, "and this right here is a sample of dust found on heavily damaged prothean ruins throughout the Attican Traverse. As you can see they're nearly identical."
Folding her arms, the chancellor kept looking at the two diagrams. Now was the time to reveal the single most convincing reason to push for a ceasefire.
"The dust is the residue of a weapon a group of pirates built with the help of an Object Omnicron," Rei turned towards her as the projector began to create a galaxy map, countless of dots appearing near human territory. "Meaning that the same weapons were used to exterminate the protheans."
"What are you saying, Director?"
"I'm saying that the same monster that killed every single living prothean is looking to do the same thing to us any time now and if we tear each other apart right now, we'll be doing the Harbinger a favour," he replied firmly before giving her a few moments to collect her thoughts. Even a seasoned politician like her would need some time to comprehend what he had just told her. "For a similar reason this knowledge should never leave this room. If people knew what was lurking just out of our reach and how little of a chance we truly stand at defeating it, they'd justifiably panic. Next to this war, that's just about the last thing we need."
"Tell me, Director," Goyle muttered as she turned away from the projector, the artificial blue of its light reflecting off her white dress. "If I knew that someone was trying to kill you and didn't tell you about it until they arrived at your doorstep, would you be satisfied with the time you had to prepare?"
Her immediate believe surprised him, he had to admit that much. While they had gathered much more evidence than when they had confronted Chancellor Noé, only presenting him with a series of reports, he had expected that Goyle would be a tougher nut to crack. Even if he was certain that she was far from pleased with only hearing about it now and evidently questioning the righteousness of keeping everything they had learned a secret, she didn't voice any doubts about what he had just said no matter how outlandish some of it might have sounded. Maybe some of his expectations had been unjustified, maybe they should've done this far earlier. But even in face of these thoughts, he knew that he couldn't agree with her on one crucial matter.
"With all due respect, this isn't about the principle, Ma'am," he shook his head at the proposed query before pulling a small data drive from his jacket and holding it up between his fingers for her to see, "and for the record, we have been preparing for quite some time now. When we're done here, I suggest you take a look at this," he added as he tossed the small device towards the woman, handing over years of highly secretive research in the process. "I know that there's nothing else I can do to change your mind so from here on out, you decide what happens with this."
Left with no other viable options, the head of Section 13 shut off the projector and waited for a reply, the seconds that passed seeming like a small eternity. Had it been a good idea to hand her everything on a silver platter? He'd find out any minute now.
"Every minute we spent talking about a ceasefire hundreds of people are kidnapped to be sold on slaver markets, every day I'd invest into negotiating with someone as stubborn as the batarians is another day they are allowed to do as they please with the people on the occupied worlds while I force our troops to stand by and watch."
"We'll get them back," he promised. "Section 13 will find every last one of them. It's what we do."
"You know that's not true, Rei."
"But I have to believe that it is," he said before taking a pause he didn't think he'd need. "If I didn't believe that we can do it, if I didn't believe that we stand a chance at winning, why would I still be fighting? It would be pointless," another unexpected break hit him,"I know that I'm already asking a lot of you, Ma'am, I really do. Pushing parliament for a ceasefire will have consequences. But for all of our sakes I'm asking you to fight with me."
Looking at the small datadrive in her hand, Goyle walked over to her desk and placed it on its wooden surface. She dropped back down in her chair and once more began working on her terminal in silence, leaving him standing in the middle of the room.
"You're dismissed, Director Rei," she said after a minute before once reaching for the drive, twirling it in her left hand for several moments before giving it an assessing look.
"Madam Chancellor?"
"I still got work to do," Goyle explained before pushing the drive into the side of the computer, throwing him a final look, "besides you don't want to be here for the fallout of cancelling a parliament meeting on short notice. Trust me, that's not an experience you want to make," she chuckled darkly before turning to look at him, her blue eyes meeting his own darker ones."I'll take care of this fight, Director, you continue yours."
"Understood, Ma'am."
Codex: Inner Cabient of the Salarian Union
Forming the elected counterpart to the dalatrasses, the matriarchal rulers of salarian society, the Inner Cabinet of the Salarian Union is a body made up of elected representatives hailing from both the different colonies and most influential clans of the salarian people. Fulfilling a similar role to the HSA's parliament, the Inner Cabinet is the sole other example of an representative, legislative government body in the galaxy, other species either directly voting on the laws themselves or not electing the legislative institution at all. Established at the dawn of the Salarian Union in 941 BCE, the Inner Cabinet, due to the shorter than average life span of their species and the sheer size of the salarian population, is elected only every ten years, resulting in most of its members serving no more than two terms before retiring from politics.
Answering to both the people and the dalatrasses, the Inner Cabinet shares its governmental responsibility with the historical rulers of pre-Union history and, while not required to, aims to match its decisions to the will of the matriarchal rulers. This tradition led to both the more liberal elements of salarian society and surprisingly parts of the Union's own military, which unlike the planetary defense forces swear its loyalty to the salarian people and the Union, not the dalatrasses, to question how independent its decisions truly are. Some groups even going as far as claiming that the Inner Cabinet is merely a puppet organ installed to quell the revolutionary mindest that had manifested itself shortly after the most powerful duchies of Sur'Kesh had made their decision to form the Union public, serving not the purpose of actually represent the salarian people but actually repressing their desire for a less stratified society.
Mostly responsible for passing laws, representing the people who elected them and watching over the other bodies of the Union, the Inner Cabinet is unique in the fact that it, in spite of being the legislative branch, is the institution responsible for selecting the councilor of the Union, the salarian that acts as the link between them and the rest of the Citadel Council. While usually drawn from a pool of candidates approved by the dalatrasses, one rather inconspicuous tenet of the Union's code of law gives the Inner Cabinet the ability to instead name its own candidate, an action that results in something the more traditional parts of salarian society refer to as an 'unbidden councilor', a salarian politician that took power without the dalatrasses giving their permission.
In the entire history of the Salarian Union there have only ever been five instances of a councilor being unbidden, one during the Rachni Wars, two during the Krogan Rebellions and two consecutive ones following the resignation of Councilor Vaelan (name shortened for convenience, See Entry 'Salarian Naming Conventions'), all of which were accompanyied by a period of bad blood between the Cabinet and the dalatrasses.
In spite of the questions surrounding its legitimacy, the Salarian Union remains one of the most stable governments in the galaxy, the assassination of the entire Inner Cabinet at the hands of the League of One (See Entry 'Error: File Expunged') remaining the only organized attempt at toppling it.
A/N: Alright, first off, sorry that this is ridicilously late for my standards but both preparing for the tests and the worst cold I've had in years took a lot out of me. Add in a small writer's blockade an you've got 20 days without an update :D (spoilers, taking tests when you're sick is not a good idea, didn't pass the federal police exams (I still have two state police ones, so no worries for now))
Off to the chapter. It basically starts of where the last one ended, not much to say in that regard. I decided to give Drescher the military analysis/exposition of what the batarians are trying to do because it kind of fits her character the best. (briefly considered giving it to either shepard (she's not exactly experienced enough to know that shit) or Desolas (while he hast he experience, he really had a lot of better things to do than thinking about why the batarians are about to screw shit up)
Now in case you didn't notice it from the tone and the previous hints, I'll spell the presumed disappointment otu for you here. This won't be one of the stories where the humans kick the batarians across space (there are far too many of those) because not only is the originial Skyllian Blitz story much more interesting than a huge HFY story arc, but also its necessary for the rest of the story to keep them around. I'm sure some of you wanted to see a prolonged war against the oh-so-evil batarians but as I've said early on, I'm trying to make something different with Semper Vigilo, something that doesn't fit the template most of the popular fanfics follow (humans come, kick everyone's ass and show the stupid council how galactic politics work best)
No, I've been far too foreshadowing on WHY that war can't happen under any circumstances before and now I'll follow up on that. Would feel cheap to chicken out on all the comments and foreshadowing for the sake of an arc that's been done a dozen times by two dozen authors.
Well, that turned into quite the rant, didn't mean for that to happen, really. I know you'll understand. If you wanted heavy HFY, you wouldn't be here.
Back to the story. Now the first background is basically completed, meaning that number two is right around the corner (who's that'll be is already kind of hinted at by the end of the chapter, if you remember the last few A/Ns you're gonna know by now)
And, since I never do that, let's talk about the codex. As the demand of expanding on the whole salarian society issue I've been hinting at left and right has been huge, I decided to reward you wiiiith
*give me a drumroll you fuckers*
more teases...
Yeah we won't be seeing the full payoff for that particular mess for a long time. It's one of the big things I wanted to do when first starting this story and I will keep building towards it for a long time. But once it gets started you better strap in boys, its gonna be a good ride to the finale. I just find the concept of a feudal society in a galaxy of all kinds of freedom too inteesting to wrap up in one codex entry or one off hand comment. People give the batarians and sometimes the turians a lot of shit for being authoritarian, yet the salarians are literally stuck in the middle ages with their concept of government. That always fascinated me really.
Now if you'd excuse me, I've got Stellaris to play (perks of being sick, I can stay inside and play Synthetic Dawn guiltfree. It's awesome, it really is)
While I do that, you go ahead and drop a review. Sounds fair? cool. Do it.
Jesus, these A/Ns are getting otu of control. Time to wrap it up.
For the record we're at 294 reviews, 505 favorites and 601 follows (that's the one good thing about taking a freaking three week long break, we actually reached the number I was talking about last chapter)
See you around next time.
