Chapter 16
War
When the blue corridor vanished and the Peravaash dropped from FTL, a slew of curses burst out in the bridge as the broad side of a turian cruiser filled the viewports. The armor plating was beat to hell and several flames were seeping out of the interior. Tira'Selh managed to drop the Peravaash's nose and avoid a collision by slipping through the ship's flared wings and under the belly just as a squadron of cylindrical reaper fighters was strafing a number of overheated GARDIAN laser arrays with their beam weapons. A chain of explosions blinded the view as the Peravaash followed the squadron in pursuit, winged by a half-squadron of battered turian fighters.
One of the fighters hailed them soon after closing formation. "I don't know who you are or what madness possessed you to jump here, but we're sure glad you did!"
Tira'Selh targeted several of the enemy fighters and let loose with the ship's four GARDIAN arrays, destroying five and scattering the rest. It was only then that they got a good glimpse at the space around the last relay.
"Well fuck me running," Maela commented in mild astonishment at the scene ahead of them, vocalizing the emotions of most on the bridge.
Ahead of them, three more turian cruisers, a Systems Alliance carrier, and an Alliance cruiser were facing off against a single Sovereign-class reaper and its convoy of oculi and fighters—and losing. The entire area was swarming with turian and human fighters and frigates as they tried to keep the oculi and smaller reaper fighters from overwhelming the larger ships. In all of this, the reaper itself was the one doing the damage. Judging by the flaming wreckage around them, it looked like two other turian cruisers and one human one had already been destroyed, each in a fashion Kevin found profoundly familiar; sliced into massive pieces and blown apart.
"This is Arla'Tavval vas Peravaash, captain of the quarian frigate Peravaash. We just dropped in via mass relay. Where do you need us?" The moment the comms shut off, she put a hand on Tira'Selh's shoulder. "Help them where we can, but line us up with that relay. That's our target."
Tira'Selh nodded. "Understood captain."
A turian fighter on their wing responded. "The two cruisers that are providing support for the Systems Alliance carrier are getting strafed pretty hard! Higher-ups are calling for more frigate support to help fend off the smaller craft so they can cool their grids down!"
"Acknowledged. Moving to intercept." Tira shut the comms down again. "That puts us on a fairly direct path towards the relay, but it's only halfway across the theatre of battle here."
"We'll get there," Tyr'Garloh assured as he pointed to something on a terminal in front of one of the co-pilots. "Here. We have seven turian fighters on our wing now. If we can flank those reaper fighters there, we can do the most damage with what we have. We can swing around for an opposite pass on the fighters over there as well."
"Looks pretty hot in that zone," Ralik commented. "The Peravaash's barriers are focused on hard, fast strikes, not continued front-line dogfights."
"I can get us through that," Tira'Selh declared, her tone determined. "The Cyclonic barriers can handle those stupid light shows."
Kevin listened as information shot back and forth about the foes all around them, keeping Tira'Sehl and her co-pilots explicitly informed of their tactical options. The Peravaash swung around to begin the first strafing run of several, during which Kevin noticed Telius leaning in. "What?"
The turian sniffed twice. "You're sweating like you just pushed this ship though the relay yourself and you smell positively of quarian."
How does he know what quarians smell like? Kevin's eyes went a little wide and he fervently mouthed the words 'not now'. He wasn't the only one to hear, however, and a heavily suppressed yet distinctly vulgar comment was angrily muttered nearby.
Telius looked over towards Arla'Tavval, clearly noting that she was the one who came to the bridge with Kevin. Both of his browplates shot upward and he looked back towards Kevin with what must have been the turian equivalent of a wry smirk. No words were said, but then again, no words were needed. Kevin could feel a bit of heat rising to his face. He wasn't sure why—he'd never had any reason to be embarrassed about his intimacy with Arla before. Maybe it was because of the obvious and public nature of the turian's discovery.
"Kevin!" Arla shouted, snapping the human back to attentiveness.
"What?"
"Go get your suit on. It's going to get messy, and right now you're the only one without protection if our atmosphere vents."
"Right," he sighed. "Be right back." He swiftly left the bridge behind and on his way back to the med-bay, he noticed that the chaos that dominated the corridors a few minutes ago had largely subsided. Quarians everywhere were at their proper combat stations now, some having to pull double-duty. Informational chatter picked up wherever two or more quarians worked together, and the moderate volume of spoken details was often ducked by the muffled groan of the hull and repeated deep clunks as things exploded nearby. One such explosion jostled the ship hard enough to toss Kevin against the back of a chair and he struggled to keep his momentum up. That was too close.
Back in the med-bay, he saw that most of the quarians there had up and left, Jiah'Merni included. Injured or not, the quarians that could perform duties performed them. Luckily he found his suit still hanging neatly on the wall near the bed he'd woken up on. Working as quickly as he could manage with a dull ache in his leg, he stripped out of his human clothing and slipped into the tight confines of the modified quarian environmental suit. The task proved more frustrating than it should have been. His leg complained quite sharply every time he had to use it for balance, which was often enough to make him worried about the state of the battle. Despite the constant thrashing from Tira'Sehl's maneuvers, however, he was finally able to get the clasps latched up. He dashed out of the deathly quiet room while his suit's operating system was still booting with visor in hand.
The moment he stepped out of the med-bay, the ship lurched yet again and he was thrown against the opposite wall, as were a few other quarians on their way aft. His leg flared and he grunted before righting himself and managing to get back on his feet. It felt like the ship rocked every time he stepped using his healing leg. When did we enter a damn asteroid field?
When he finally got back to the bridge, the battle had already begun to turn around. Three new turian cruisers and a pair of human cruisers, each accompanied by a few squadrons of frigates and fighters had joined the fray. Four of the five turian vessels and all three Systems Alliance cruisers were concentrating steady fire on the reaper despite the dense reaper fighter swarms. Half of the turian fighters on the Peravaash's wing were gone and the Systems Alliance carrier had been destroyed, but Tira'Selh's efforts—joined by the newly arrived frigates and a number of fighters from the fresh ships—were finally doing real damage on the enemy ranks. The reaper had had enough, however, and one of its mechanical tendrils lifted to fire another of its lethal beams at the turian cruiser that the Peravaash was currently supporting. Kevin braced for the imminent impact caused by the cruiser's ultimate destruction.
"Brace for impact!" shouted Tira'Sehl and everyone in the bridge did so.
Fortunately that explosion never came. The reaper had sustained enough damage that it appeared to simply shut down. It began to drift while frozen amidst its attack and the lights dotting its exterior flickered, then faded. The joint defense wasted no time.
"Its kinetic barriers are down!" a turian shouted over the comms to all ships. "Now's our best shot! Concentrate fire, finish it off! Fire all! Repeat, fire all!"
All ships, regardless of their previous engagement, turned to concentrate fire on the vulnerable reaper.
"Fire all!" Arla'Tavval roared and fervent acknowledgement sounded all around.
Kevin watched as all the surviving ships turned in unison to point directly at the limp reaper. A wave of disruptor torpedoes preceded the near instantaneous blasts of several mass accelerator cannons from all ships, the Peravaash included. The reaper absorbed the first several hits, explosions sprouting at impact points all over it. The second and third volleys, however, did the real damage. Explosions began to erupt from the massive machine's interior continued on their own. Soon enough legs and other large parts were getting blown off wholesale. The offensive brought on by the reaper fighters fell into immediate disarray and was getting obliterated by freshly-cooled GARDIAN lasers and renewed vigor in the frigate and fighter flotillas.
Kevin clenched his hands into fists and pumped them into the air. Holy hell, we won!. It took half an armada, but we pushed off the reapers!
Cheers and shouts of victory filled the Peravaash and Tira'Selh immediately steered the ship towards the mass relay. Kevin supposed that all of the surviving ships were having their own victory celebration as well. They had proven to themselves that these fearsome machines could be beaten. They had faced impending extinction and held their ground.
"Captain!" Tira'Selh called over the ovations, her tone decidedly not cheerful.
"What is it, Tira'Selh?" Arla replied, still jovial over the victory.
Rather than attempt to explain over the noise, Tira'Selh pointed to a series of warnings. These were alerts noting that a ship had dropped from FTL nearby. The signature matched the two-kilometer size of the reaper they had just defeated, and it was approaching fast.
Then there were three. Then seven. Then twenty-one.
"Tepka keelah…" Arla had said as the mirth on the bridge collapsed. "Get us out of here, now!"
"What about the turians and humans?" Maela asked in mild irritation. "We can't just… run away!"
Arla gripped the apex of Tira's seat so hard that Kevin thought it would snap right off. "That's exactly what we're doing, T'Vess! Tira'Selh, get us through that relay! Whatever it takes, get us through that relay!"
The ship had lurched into sudden motion as all hell broke loose around them. Crimson beams traced deadly paths everywhere, carving the surviving cruisers apart with soul-crushing ease. Hundreds upon hundreds more reaper fighters joined the massacre, quickly overwhelming the fighters that were still trying to form up. Explosions filled the viewports as cruisers, frigates, and fighters alike started their offensive once more and were obliterated almost as quickly. Soon enough it was a challenge just to avoid all of the flaming shrapnel and gargantuan debris. Within mere seconds, this victory had been turned into a mad scramble for retreat.
It seemed to Kevin that Tira'Selh already knew that simply flying straight for the relay would mean death for them all. There was no way they could avoid that many reapers at once. She had wisely—and expertly—began weaving through the pieces of turian and human vessel even as they were still coming apart. Ralik, Maela, and several quarians in the bridge found something to hold onto and gripped it tight as they watched through the viewports in horror. The ship jolted back and forth as large pieces of ruined vessel came into contact with the Peravaash's kinetic barriers. More frequently than anyone on the bridge might have liked, a turian or human corpse nearly hit the viewports, deflected by the barriers at the last second. It made for a very dreadful and tense retreat, especially as reaper lasers continued to rip through the exploding ships that Tira'Selh was using as cover.
After several everlasting minutes of cheating death time after time, the blessed blue glow of the mass relay came into view just ahead of them. Tira'Selh took her chance and punched it straight for the relay. There was no longer any cover that could help them avoid a torrent of crimson death, and therefore no longer a reason to take an indirect route. The ship itself seemed to hold its breath as flew in slow motion towards their only way out. Beams from some of the smaller fighters shot out from behind them, thankfully stopped by the ex-Cerberus ship's resilient armor plating.
The ship rocked once more as a fighter grazed them in an attempt to ram and was summarily shrugged off. That was when the blue tendril of energy originating from the center of the spinning rings reached out for the Peravaash as if it was desperate to get them on their way. The viewports were filled with the brilliant cyan hue of blueshifted energy and the slaughter was instantly left behind. With it came a collective exhale from the entire crew.
When the ship dropped from mass relay FTL, a silence lingered. No one said a word. The only motion was Telius as he saluted the fallen with such respect that Kevin was sure he was about to shed a tear. Kevin did likewise and saluted, recognizing the sacrifice all of those turians and humans gave to try and stem the tide of extinction. But they still failed, he contemplated. Honor and centuries of military prowess didn't mean squat when the reapers came in force.
"Keelah." Arla said amidst a breath of utter exasperation. "How do we fight that?"
"We don't," Tyr'Garloh replied. "Not now, at least. We have more pressing matters, do we not?"
Arla'Tavval heaved a deep sigh and shook her head to get her thoughts back in order. "Yes… Yes. Tira'Selh, get us to the Migrant Fleet."
"Yes, captain!" the girl replied with enthusiasm and the ship jumped off into FTL after a minor course correction. "We should be there in a matter of minutes if the Fleet is still waiting to assault the geth around Rannoch."
Kevin rotated a shoulder in an attempt to loosen a fold in his envirosuit. "Ugh, right. The assault. I guess that IS why we're here, anyways." He eyed the turian.
Telius nodded. "Everything's all packed up and ready to deliver to the Migrant Fleet for adaptation. I have been instructed to assist them in the interfacing process if they'll let me."
Arla turned to step just outside the bridge. "Good. And Han'Gerrel will be pleased to hear a ghost of Xelvas'taersh Zero has returned from the cold of dark space. We'll all go see him the moment we dock and clear with the cleaners."
"Wait wait wait. We're going aboard the Migrant Fleet?" Maela asked with a hint of shock. "I thought it was forbidden to non-quarians." She forced the shock down and slowly replaced it with ambitious curiosity.
Tyr'Garloh joined the group as they all backfilled out of the bridge. "Some of the admirals and captains have been changing their minds about that recently. Especially with such big changes already in the works."
"Big changes?" Maela asked with clear interest.
"Later," Arla replied curtly to that. "We have to prep everyone for return to the Migrant Fleet. We don't exactly have the best of news to deliver." She sighed and paused to collect her thoughts. "Telius Mettack, could you please bring your companions down to the cargo bay for a quick screening? It will help the boarding process along."
"Of course," Telius replied with a turian salute and flicked his head for Maela to follow. The asari rolled her eyes but went all the same.
Kevin started to make his way aft with the rest of the group, but paused when Arla called to him.
"Kevin, please remain." Arla leaned against the back of the pilot's chair with her elbows, resting her weight on her loosely crossed arms. She stared out the viewports at the violently swirling tunnel of blue-shifted energy.
Having figured the danger passed for now, Kevin removed his visor. As he made his way back towards her, he couldn't help but drink in her curves as she stood there. "Something wrong?"
"Walk with me," she said as she turned and left the bridge. When Kevin caught up to her, she went on. "Not… Not necessarily. Honestly, I'm nervous. We're enabling the Migrant Fleet to strike at the geth, but after seeing what we've seen at the edge of dark space… I'm not sure we're ready for this. The geth are doing things we've never imagined."
"I feel you there. It's like everything is way out of proportion. Reapers setting the galaxy afire just make everything feel that much more chaotic." He walked right next to her, bodies nearly touching. They passed several busy quarians as they walked, each one saluting her and stepping aside.
"I'm also nervous about facing the captains of the ships whose crew members… I had taken with me and gotten killed. We've been on a few small missions since we recruited the new squads, but nothing quite so… devastating. Quarians can be incredibly hostile when…" She trailed off and shook her head. "This is new to me and I don't like it."
"All part of the process of being captain, I suppose. You know I think you've managed a hell of a lot for this team, and that's only based on what I've seen since finding you."
"I know. And I appreciate the affirmation." She fell silent then and turned off to a less traveled area between bulkheads. There she turned to look up into his eyes again. "Keelah. It's… it's just so good to have you with me again."
Kevin looked back into those glowing windows to her soul. He wanted to kiss her right there, but settled for slipping a hand around her perfect waist. He couldn't risk exposing her in the hallway. "I don't know about you, but a few hours is nowhere near enough for me."
"Kevin, please!" Arla said coyly. "We have a fleet to rejoin, a turian liaison to hand off, and two machine races to wage a final war on. We're in the middle of the hall on a quarian battleship surrounded by my subordinates and you want to get down and dirty with the captain?" She pushed him back against the wall, and the look she gave him through her visor was borderline predatory. "Damn you, Folner. If it weren't for you, I'd still think being out of my suit was a horrific experience."
A couple of chuckles echoed from the hall as a trio of marines headed towards the lower deck. "Kid's gonna get eaten alive." Arla looked in their direction then back to Kevin she nodded hungrily. They laughed again.
Kevin wanted so much to press her against the wall, rip off her suit, and taste every inch of her. But… He couldn't. Not now, at least. "Should I head down to get cleaned?" Kevin asked once the eyes were off them.
She sauntered up to him and pressed her hips into his. "No need. Your suit does that for you. Besides, you've already been on the Neema." She then leaned in to whisper. "The suit will take care of that sweat too," she said quite playfully and gave him a subtle but firm nudge with her hip.
Kevin laughed, but decided not to reply to that. Instead, he put his visor back into place and pulled her hard against him, hell bent on enjoying the last few minutes of calm together before they reached the Migrant Fleet.
It wasn't much longer before the Peravaash was dropping from FTL on the edge of the Migrant Fleet in one of their many designated FTL arrival zones. The ship became a flurry of activity again as the awe-inspiring view of thousands upon thousands of ships clustered together in loose groups filled the view ahead of them. Several Patrol Fleet fighters appeared out of the cloud of vessels to fly alongside the Peravaash.
"This is Corporal Fanh'Daas of the Migrant Fleet Marines. Frigate identified as the Peravaash," was the curt, efficient voice of a quarian man. "Please verify."
"This is Captain Arla'Tavval vas Peravaash nar Neema." She paused for a few very deliberate seconds. "The silent stars beckon and my missions call, yet it is in home that I find my solace throughout the chaos."
"Confirmed. Welcome home, captain Tavval and Xelvas'taersh squads. We know Admiral Han'Gerrel has been anxious to see your silhouette, as are many others. We will escort you to docking rig twelve."
"We will need a security and cleaning team," Arla requested. "We have some additions to our crew that are going through local decontamination as we speak. One is a krogan—please inform the marines on the Neema. He is friendly."
"Uh… Understood, Captain Tavval. The Neema will be informed of a… krogan attachment. Please proceed to docking rig twelve. Security and cleaning teams will meet you there. Migrant Fleet, out."
Once the comms cut, Arla looked down and sighed. "As are many others," she repeated to herself. She fell silent for a while as Tira'Selh navigated through the dense and oddly majestic fleet of barely-running vessels. As they weaved over, under, and through formations, Kevin noticed all of the new cannons mounted on just about every able ship. Some of them looked incredibly unwieldy, as even ships as small as frigates had something plastered onto the top or side. While not every ship sported a massive new cannon, every ship had been retrofitted in some fashion or another. The changes weren't as obvious on these ramshackle crafts as they might have been on something with a much cleaner silhouette, but the alterations always somehow found a way to distinguish themselves as 'extra'.
"Docking rig twelve has cleared us for approach. Beginning settlement procedures."
Arla came to with a slight jump and turned to head out of the bridge. "That's our cue to line the crew up. Ralik, please see that the crew has made preparations to rejoin the Neema the moment their docking duties are finished. I'll meet them at the airlock."
"Yes ma'am," Ralik replied, and he too shot out of the bridge with the salarian stride of purpose.
Barely a few minutes later, Kevin, Tyr'Garloh, and Ralik Dolannus were following the brisk pace of Captain Arla'Tavval as she led the surviving crew of the Peravaash onto the Neema. Telius, an apparent guest of some sort of honor, followed them. The crew of the ship came third, and lastly, Maela and Targold in their exosuits brought up the rear. Some new quarian cultural edict mandated that the ship's crew be allowed home before the aliens were allowed to step aboard. Maela had been rather agitated when she was told. Targold simply didn't give a damn.
Stepping onto the Neema again brought back vivid memories of his last time on the ship. Quarians, both curious and furious in knowing he was a human wearing a quarian suit, had surrounded him and the others during their time there. He remembered how fast the questions came at him. Some inquired about his experience while others had angrily questioned his intent by wearing something he had, according to them, no right to. He wondered if he'd have to endure it again.
When they stepped out and could see the plethora of quarians lining the halls, Kevin felt like something was off. This wasn't like last time at all.
"Were we expected?" Kevin asked Arla just loud enough to be heard over the tight hallway-enhanced acoustics of the murmurs surrounding them.
"Yes and no," she replied with a shake of her head. "Our missions have become… something of attention fodder for the larger ships."
"Why?" Kevin wondered aloud as he looked down an adjacent hallway. Down in the distance, he saw one of those community item-exchange markets he saw last time he came to the Neema. It was practically empty.
"Very few ships do what we've come to be known for doing," Tyr'Garloh explained in Arla's place, as she immediately had to divert her attention to the various important figures that stood far ahead of them. "While the Migrant Fleet certainly has a substantial number of smaller vessels that are sent out on a wide variety of missions, very few are under the Admiralty Board's express command. That makes us a central figure to quarian politics… and gossip, unfortunately. We also have one of the highest success rates for missions in post-exile history, and that just makes us the military celebrities."
"For better or worse," Arla commented as she saluted Admirals Han'Gerrel vas Neema and Daro'Xen vas Moreh. Ralik, Kevin, and the rest of the quarians fresh off of the Peravaash did likewise. "I apologize for our lateness, admirals. I would have relayed our status much sooner, but… Well, things are getting… very out of hand out there."
"So we've heard," Daro'Xen said off-handedly as she crossed her arms and leaned back on one leg. "Something about a fleet of things called 'reapers', I believe. Machines. Like the geth."
"Not like the geth, much to our dismay," Tyr'Garloh chimed in. "Admiral Xen, these are the machines that we—"
"Yes, I know, lieutenant," Xen curtly replied, bowling over Tyr'Garloh. "Unfortunately for them, we already have our own problems. Geth problems. The reapers will have to wait their turn."
"Keelah, is that who I think it is?" Han'Gerrel said, nearly cutting Daro'Xen off. He chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
"I'm getting that everywhere," Kevin said with mock irritation and smirk hidden under his helmet. "It's a pain in the ass."
"The Ancestors couldn't take his jokes anymore so they sent him back to us," Arla said, nearly laughing herself.
"Who—" Admiral Daro'Xen cut herself off when she spotted Kevin's Xelvas'taersh symbol. "Oh, you're that human boy who stole one of our suits. I remember now."
"Xen, we owe this human boy a great deal of gratitude, if I'm not mistaken," Admiral Han'Gerrel pointed out with a nod towards Kevin. "You're in a bit of an odd place, Folner. You're among those we've credited as having given their life for the ultimate continuance of the Migrant Fleet."
"Like I said back on Taetrus," Tyr'Garloh added in. "A damn ghost."
It was then that Kevin noticed just how thick the crowd around them had become. It seemed only the team of marines acting as civil law enforcement making a ring around them kept the curious crowd back enough to have space to breathe, as it were. The murmurs around them were numerous, and so far to Kevin's ears, so much so as to be incomprehensible.
"Yes, well," Daro'Xen said. "You put a lot of geth in their place and are one of the few we have that have any experience in dealing with those reapers, so I must give credit where it's due. If you have time, though, I'd like to hear your own version of events regarding the geth in their sphere and—"
"No more interviews, Xen," Han'Gerrel said in a tone that brook no argument. "We have more pressing and dire matters to consider."
"Very well, then," Xen said, unfolding her arms and turning to Arla to change the course of the conversation. "Captain Tavval, I trust your mission was a success despite your… hardships?"
Arla turned to look back through the crowd, seeming to count every single quarian that was no longer in her team. After a brief pause, she waved Telius forward. "Casualties were astronomical, but… Yes. The mission was a success." Many gasps and horrified mutters filled the air.
"Casualties?" Han'Gerrel asked in mild alarm as he eyed the turian that was moving forward. "What cause do the turians have to attack our people? What happened out there, captain?"
"It's a long story, admiral. Safe to say, the turians were not responsible and actually did more to protect than harm. The reapers fell on Taetrus in full force while we were still planetside."
"Keelah," Han'Gerrel said under his breath. "We'd seen the images being broadcast from Taetrus. Vallum…"
"Utterly destroyed, admiral," Telius said rather frankly. "Along with many, many other cities, colonies, and fleets. Your pilot on the Peravaash is top tier, captain. Her foresight and skill got us off and out." Everything was said almost deadpan. Flat. Telius was obviously putting extra effort into keeping his voice as neutral as possible. "Introductions, right. My apologies captain, I did not mean to interrupt." Arla waved a hand for him to continue and he did so. "I am First Lieutenant Telius Mettack of the Four Hundred and Fifty-First Shock Legion operating out of Palaven. I am the liaison from the Hierarchy."
"You have the suite, then?" Han'Gerrel asked, a bit more anxious than he probably intended to sound.
"I do."
"Jiah'Merni!" Arla'Tavval called out behind her.
A familiar quarian pushed her way through the other marines to stand at attention next to her captain. "Yes, captain!"
"Gather a team with strong ship weapons background and bring Telius Mettack with you to get this weapons suite properly installed, calibrated, and distributed throughout the Migrant Fleet."
"As you say, captain!" she said fervently as she saluted.
Before she could run off to carry out her orders, however, Admiral Han'Gerrel added to it. "With as much speed as your precision work will allow, Jiah. Time is short and we mean to be on the offensive as soon as this fleet is combat capable."
"Yes, admiral!" She saluted again and headed off with urgency in her step. Telius saluted in his own turian fashion and followed after Jiah'Merni without so much as another word.
"Are we that close to making a move for the Homeworld?" Arla asked.
"Best discuss this and other matters in private," Daro'Xen suggested, folding her arms again. "Things appear to be getting quite tense."
She was right. The marines acting as a barrier to keep the crew of the Peravaash free of impedance were struggling to keep their lines. Apparently the news or rumor variants that things had not gone well for the Xelvas'taersh in their latest mission had finally permeated the masses and people were responding. Many quarians wanted news about individuals that had not been seen amongst the crew and others wanted to know more about the state of the galaxy. This was probably as close to a mob that quarians would ever likely get, but it was enough. Han'Gerrel gestured for everyone to move and the marines surrounding the crew began to open a path for everyone to go through.
"We'll debrief in my command center," Han'Gerrel noted. "Kevin, as a full member of the Xelvas'taersh squad zero, you are welcome to attend. However, your friends will have to move to the marine quarters with the rest of the crew of the Peravaash. Sensitive information and all that."
"I understand, admiral. I know they will too." He turned around and caught the eye of the krogan that stood an easy foot or more above the tallest quarian anywhere and used hand gestures to tell him that they would need to stay with the crew. His lumbering friend nodded in understanding, grabbed Maela by the arm, and kept to the marines. If it was that easy to convince him to go, Kevin pondered, he probably already wanted out of this sea of colored suits.
"I must return to the Moreh," Admiral Daro'Xen said, sounding almost bored. "I have to oversee the installation and preparation of the new software. Ancestors know someone will screw it up if I'm not there. Han, try your best not to maneuver any of our precious research and development vessels into the line of fire."
"Keelah se'lai, Daro'Xen," Han'Gerrel replied, quite decidedly not taking the bait. If the other admiral responded in turn, it was lost amongst the growing noise of the open room they had been standing in as she moved away with a few marines of her own.
Several minutes later, the surrounding barrier of Migrant Fleet Marines began to break off to escort the crew of the Peravaash to some quarters to rest. Han'Gerrel and Xelvas'taersh squad zero continued towards the bow and into a heavily guarded, circular, low-ceiling room that looked like it had very recently been emptied of the typical quarian clutter. In place of that clutter was twenty or so terminals arrayed in a circle around the outside of the room, a dated but modified holographic projection table in the center, and a number of other electronics Kevin wasn't familiar with. All in all, it looked pretty makeshift and last-minute, but it was probably the closest thing the quarians had to a combat information center since their exile.
There were a good twenty-plus quarians actively working in the room when they arrived, most of whom were seated at a terminal. About three or four were moving back and forth between terminals and the table with datapads in hand. One was even still installing a piece of equipment by the table. Kevin knew these ones were familiar with the impending war scenario so there would be no reason to worry about what they heard.
Han'Gerrel walked over to the central table with a massive hologram showing the placement of every ship in the fleet larger than scouters and fighters. He leaned onto the edge with both hands and started off with the bad news. "I'm sorry to do this to you and your team, kid, but in a few hours I'm going to have to send the Xelvas'taersh out on another mission."
Arla said nothing, but she nodded. Kevin knew that meant that she was very disappointed but would do as commanded.
"But first let's get you and yours up to speed on the situation." He tapped on his omni-tool and the holographic map of the fleet zoomed out to system-wide, then back in towards a planet called Rannoch. "It's true. We're in the final stages of preparation for assault. The mainstay of the geth armada is huddled around Rannoch here, but as it stands, we're not going to last long against them. They're too well-organized and their fleet is large enough to pose a serious threat to us. We estimate that the geth processes linked up in the fleet alone to number in the hundreds of millions. That allows them to formulate substantial strategic counter-maneuvers."
Tyr'Garloh rested a hand against the chin of his helmet. "They're more agile, but we have more firepower. That would be cause for reevaluation, but not enough to stall the assault."
"That's right," Han"Garrel continued. "If that were all we had to worry about, we would be able to force them maximize their strategic capacity and work around those limitations." He pulled the view of the hologram back and zoomed in around the local star, Tikkun. "The geth need more energy to power more processes, and they found a way to increase their processing capacity to absurd proportions. Look here." He pointed to the star and the innumerable specks surrounding it.
"I'll be damned," Kevin said with crossed arms. "They built a Dyson bubble."
"A what?" Arla asked.
Ralik interjected. "A human name for something many species have looked into but were unable to execute, at least to this scale. Those specks are all energy collection satellites, yes?"
"Exactly," Han'Gerrel confirmed. "Those satellites power massive servers and stations housing hundreds of millions of geth processes on their own, and they're linked up with the fleet via tightbeam. Some also have the capacity to assemble new fighter or frigate-sized geth platforms. We're going to send a moderate fleet of our fastest ships in to strike at the array and destroy as many of the stations, servers, and energy collectors as possible."
"The geth won't like that," Tyr'Garloh noted. "We'll be hitting their practically undefended population centers."
"It's nothing more than they've already done to us, Lieutenant," Han'Gerrel responded with added vehemence. "This is war, and war is never easy, delicate, or pretty."
Ralik leaned forward onto the table with his hands. "How do you think they'll respond?"
"Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay believes they won't come after us in force, and I think she has the right of that. They have hundreds of millions more geth processes in the stations around Rannoch, and to leave those undefended to fire back at us only risks them losing more and getting themselves pressed on two sides. Most likely they'll send a sizable, but limited contingent fleet against our solar array assault, but nothing particularly overwhelming. I've instructed our solar assault team to press on with the attack until they've suffered too many losses to continue. Whatever that number is, I've left up to their tactician."
Arla looked to Han'Gerrel and back to the projection of Tikkun. "You know there will be heavy losses, but you're sending them anyway?"
"I don't have a choice, kid. Believe me, if there was a better way to level the battlefield, I would take it in a heartbeat. Without their sacrifice, we will suffer a far larger number of losses when we make our push against the fleet in earnest. We have to trust that they will do what's best for all of us."
Kevin nodded. It was an ugly truth, but still a truth. He couldn't imagine making decisions like that, knowing that so many lives might end on his words. "And after that?"
"After that we regroup and make our final jump around Tikkun to hit the geth directly. Daro'Xen's team made up a weapon we can use to blind the geth to our approach. They'll know we're coming, but not how many or from where. It should allow us to get in perfect range for our new guns. I should be straightforward, but…"
Arla crossed her arms this time. "But…"
"Battle plans are usually the first casualty of any direct conflict. They have no backlines or supply chain to harass. Worse, our scouts have been reporting the geth fleet has been moving to keep something hidden from us. Something big. I fear the worst, but we won't know what that is until it's too late and backing out through the relay isn't an option with those reapers out there. Worse than that, there's still opposition."
"Opposition?" Arla'Tavval asked as she and the others surrounded the table.
"Internal division." He sighed, frustrated. "It seems the Migrant Fleet is still not whole in the decision to reclaim the Homeworld. Admiral Zal'Koris is most prominent amongst the opposition in this matter, and a lot of the civilian ships are backing him. They'll fight, since the fleet is already committed, but I can't help but think that the ships under his jurisdiction will be too hesitant to move when the time comes. If we can't somehow convince him to unify with the rest of our people, that uncertainly could easily cause this assault to go very badly for us."
"Once a suit-wetter, always a suit-wetter," Arla mumbled. Han'Gerrel didn't voice his agreement, but Kevin saw him nod. "What part will the Xelvas'taersh play in this battle?"
"You won't," Han'Gerrel said flatly.
"What?" Arla said, standing rigid. "But we need everyone in this!"
The admiral hung his head briefly as Arla made her stance known, but picked it up before she could say any more. "I know, kid. Relax and listen."
Arla loosened her posture slightly and nodded.
"We have a different problem, a potential direct threat to the Migrant Fleet from within." He tapped his omni-tool and the view in the hologram moved back to the Migrant Fleet then used gestures to pan the view off to a set of three flotilla ships floating aloof from the rest of the fleet. "Four days ago one of our Homeships, the Ulansal, went comms-dark. A day later, it stopped responding altogether. The day after that, the two ships nearest it, the frigates Rivii, and Talaheel also went dark and stopped responding in turn. We'd been monitoring the situation after comms were lost, and I've had to painstakingly order the Migrant Fleet to move away from the drifting vessels. After what happened with the Alarei, we can't ignore the signs."
"Tepka keelah," Arla muttered, shaking her head. "Not the Ulansal… Not a Homeship…"
"It's difficult to consider what might be going on in there, but we cannot move forward with this assault if we have to worry about potential geth incursion from the rear. Those ships have been outfitted with new weaponry just as the rest of the fleet has been, and we simply cannot afford the damage and panic they could cause if they went rogue on us. That's where you come in, Xelvas'taersh. I can't spare any of my marines right now, especially after how badly the initial attempts to retake the Alarei went. I need your team to board the Ulansal and assess what happened there and see if…" Han'Gerrel paused rather uncharacteristically for a moment. "…if they need help."
Kevin felt some red flags going up somewhere in his head. That kind of pause was used when people weren't willing to speak of a horrifying alternative. He couldn't remember if anyone had told him about what happened with that ship called the Alarei, but he had a growing feeling in his gut that it was particularly bad by quarian standards. On top of that, Arla's posture was that of extreme discomfort, like something was causing her innards to bend in impossible ways and she was doing her best not to disturb a ceremony.
"It… It will be done, admiral," Arla'Tavval replied, distracted.
"I'm sure it's nothing," the admiral said after a quick, but very awkward silence. "But we can't gamble on that. If all goes well, your team can join the assault against the geth fleet and handle precision strikes on problematic geth vessels."
Something's wrong, Kevin thought. He knows it isn't good. A Homeship is where their pregnant women go when nearing birth and children go to learn. There can't be anything good going on there. There's even more than that, but what? Should I ask? Kevin glanced at the distracted Arla. No. Not now. Not here.
"Understood," Arla replied with a bit more control.
"Your team will have a couple hours to rest and refresh while you restock on the supplies we can afford to give you. Kevin, your friends cannot be made Xelvas'taersh, I hope you understand. They can, however, accompany you on this mission as an attachment if they like. If not, we'll put them on a shuttle for the nearest safe hub." Things went silent as if someone were to say something but chose not to. When no further comment was made, Han'Gerrel nodded to the team. "Dismissed."
Everyone saluted and turned to leave the room.
"The quarters your team has been moved to are this way, ma'am," one of the marines outside the door said as he directed them down a packed corridor.
Arla nodded in thanks and lead the group to the quarters, which turned out to be little more than a long room with three rows of militaristic bunk beds. Lockers lined the wall that the door was on all the way down to the other door much further down the corridor. Clan cloths adorned several beds and lockers, but otherwise the room was rather stark and utilitarian. Xelvas'taersh quarians filled the room and there was a low buzz of quiet conversation about the room that drowned out the growl of the aged engines.
Arla turned towards the others, one fist on her hip. "I'm going to go debrief a few members of the team. Tyr, Ralik, Kevin, will you come with?"
"I need to check on my guys," Kevin replied. "I'll catch up with you in a bit." Arla nodded to him and he stepped away from his team to find Maela, Targold, and Liam.
He paused for a brief second and closed his eyes. Not Liam. He hadn't had time to properly mourn his newly found adopted father. Hell, he'd hardly had time to have a father. It tugged at the back of his mind, trying to pull his attention away from the important things going on around him. He forced it away and resumed his trek. Not the time or place, Kevin. Luckily, it wasn't hard to find them; Targold stuck out like a… well, a krogan in a room full of quarians. It was even more obvious given the rather large circle of space between them and the rest of the room's occupants despite the lack of space.
"I have mixed feelings about this," Targold grumbled as he spotted the human despite his quarian camouflage. "I never thought I'd be working with a team of quarians. A small part of me—a tooth maybe—respects the ironic defiance in their claims of being 'elite quarians'. The other part of me wants to test just how elite they are." He cracked the knuckles of his fingers. Loudly. Kevin couldn't see his face under his helmet, but he had to guess there was a wide smirk under it—especially when the krogan got several looks from quarians around the quarters.
Kevin smiled to himself and shook his head. "Krogan." He always liked how Targold could pull him out of any emotional slump. "Well I see Targold is enjoying himself. How are you holding up, Maela?"
"You slept with her, didn't you?" she asked, irritated.
Several nearby conversations came to an abrupt halt and Targold let out a guttural laugh.
Kevin, however, was taken aback at the sudden intimate question and it took him a moment to regain his social balance. "Well that escalated quickly."
"Just admit it, Folner. You fucked her. Today. You fucked her brains out after we barely escaped death on Taetrus!" The asari's arms were crossed now and her tone remained rather unamused.
Kevin had no reason to deny it. As far as he was concerned, it was, or soon would be, common knowledge that he and the captain were lovers. Even still, judging by some of the sounds he heard coming from the quarians around them, they were amused. "Yes. Yes I did. How is this even a surprise?"
"That fucking bitch."
"I fail to see how you should have expected any different, Maela," Kevin said, unfazed by her anger. "You of all people should know what she means to me."
"And you! Traitorous motherfucker! You fucking owe me!" Maela jabbed at Kevin's chest with an armored finger. "Do you know the shit I went through for you? Do you even understand the full extent of what I did for you? She died, I was here, and…" Her voice wavered.
Kevin could see where this was going almost immediately. He could almost understand, given that by all circumstances Arla was dead to him for a while, but he wouldn't just stand and let her rant unopposed. "I can only know some of what you did for me, Maela, and even that I could never repay you for. Regardless, that doesn't mean you and I are any sort of 'together'."
"You know Maela, if a mating session is all you're looking for, I'm standing right here. Why not show these quarians what real mating looks like?" Targold leaned back on one leg with both of his arms open wide in invitation.
"By the Goddess, shut the fuck up, Targold!" A lot more eyes were on their trio now and Maela turned back to Kevin. "I'm trying to have—" She cut herself off suddenly as if she almost gave critical information away. She looked down to the floor and growled her frustration, then slumped as she leaned back against the wall. She sighed heavily, seeming to realize the immaturity of her complaints. She then placed her hands on the front of her helmet. "Fuck! See what you're doing to me, Folner? I never gave a shit about this kind of thing before you."
The surrounding quarians, suddenly disinterested due to the quick halt to the drama, went back to their previous conversations.
Trying to have what? Kevin wondered. "What do you mean?"
"You saw them in your head if you remember. I had other bondmates before you. They all had other partners later. I never gave a single fuck about it then." She turned to the side and sat down on a bed. "At some point I suppose I figured you were mine. Your previous fuckbuddy was dead and we were… so close to…" She left that sentence unfinished. "Fucking knew my Matron days would catch up to me sooner or later. All this death… I guess I'm letting my biology urge me to settle down and start putting out daughters."
Targold leaned sideways against the end of the bunk across from Maela, arms crossed. "I'd be an idiot not to mention right now just how much krogan love procreation."
Maela showed him her middle finger and turned back to Kevin. "Warning you now, Folner. If I don't get any from you, I might just have to corner you. Just because little miss exo-suit over there ended up living after all doesn't mean I recognize her monopoly on you."
Well, at least she warned me. "Noted," Kevin replied, a hidden grin appearing on his face. He couldn't believe how ridiculous the asari was getting over the matter. "Counter-warning, though. Arla will probably stab you in your sleep."
"Let the bitch try," Maela said with a flippant wave of her hand. "I'm no huntress, but I did try out a century and a half back and did well enough to be considered. I can handle her."
"Too bad you couldn't handle my quad," Targold shot in at the last second.
Kevin couldn't help but smile. Feeling that the topic had largely been disarmed, he moved on to more important things. "So it looks like we're not going to join the battle for the quarian Homeworld."
"Good," Targold said as the bunk he leaned on creaked alarmingly. By some cosmic miracle, it held. "Not our fight. Besides, I'd rather have my boots on the ground where I can crush husk throats. Not sit on a ship with both my thumbs up my ass."
"Then you'll like what I have to say," Kevin said with a nod. "You guys can't be Xelvas'taersh, but you'll be joining us as an attachment if you want. If not, we can call for a ship to bring you to the nearest safe harbor. Though, with the reapers out there, I'm not sure if any—"
"I'll go," Maela curtly announced, cutting Kevin off. "I don't really have anywhere else to go so long as those things are ravaging the galaxy and my lab's probably been locked up tight since my disappearance. And someone has to be her competition."
Kevin was about to make a comment about that, but decided to pick his battles and left it alone.
Targold nodded. "Count me in."
"I haven't even told you guys what we're doing yet."
"Does it involve two thumbs and an asshole?" the krogan asked.
"Well, no, but—"
"Count me in."
"It's not like we have much of a choice," Maela stated flatly. "Reapers are shitting on the entire galaxy by now. We even try to go back, we're as good as dead."
"There's an old krogan saying," Targold said, stepping forward. "Back when we ran in packs and back before we had clans. Also back when we had sayings. 'Together we live. Alone, we die.' Seems to apply more now than it ever did in my early days."
Together we live. Alone, we die. Kevin reflected on the logical truth to that.
"Sounds like a slogan for the Xelvas'taersh if you ask me," Ralik pointed out as he appeared from the crowd. "I don't suppose the krogan people would mind if we borrowed it, would they?"
Targold shrugged. "You all could use a little more krogan in you as far as I'm concerned."
Kevin couldn't help but laugh. Despite everything; the reapers, the fall of Taetrus, the ensuing war between the quarians and geth, and even despite the death of his adopted father, he laughed. "I like the sound of that. We'll have to pitch that to the captain."
"Pitch what to the captain?" Arla said as she followed Ralik's steps. Kevin could practically hear Maela's teeth grinding behind him as the captain and Tyr'Garloh both filed in to join the group.
"A new slogan for our team," Kevin said with a smirk.
"Tell me later," Arla replied quickly. "I just crossed paths with Telius. He will be staying with the Migrant Fleet to help continue implementation and calibration the new suite. I've already given the word to a few to get the word out as to what we'll be doing. We should all try to get some rest while they restock the Peravaash."
"Agreed," Tyr said with a nod. "They won't be making a move on Rannoch for a while anyways. They need to adapt the combat suite to all the different ship configurations and make that run against the solar array. You, especially, need to rest, Folner. Even with all that medi-gel, your leg is far from healed."
As if the constant ache wasn't enough of a reminder, the human thought. In truth he didn't have the energy to fight over this, so he acquiesced. "Yeah yeah yeah. Just don't do anything without me, alright?"
Within a few minutes, the whole of the Xelvas'taersh was on their way back to the Peravaash. Not everyone went aboard, however. Arla had freely given them leave to rejoin their previous ship assignments if they preferred to put their superior skills into the hands of other captains for the assault. About two-thirds of the team, all volunteers and each with genuine and heartfelt apologies to Arla, wished to stay behind on the Neema to facilitate getting the Migrant Fleet ready for the inevitable battle. Those that remained Xelvas'taersh did not hold anything against those that left. Everyone knew their skills could be utilized anywhere, and everyone knew the fight for the Homeworld would be anything but easy.
Kevin was, at first, surprised that he didn't get nearly the same attention last time he'd been on the Neema. Back then he felt like some kind of unintentional celebrity as it seemed like the whole ship turned up to play twenty questions. It was amusing to think back on, but at the time it had been exhausting. Once Kevin had taken enough time to really look around him, he could easily tell why the same flighty curiosity did not grip the crew. He could practically feel just how thick the tension was. It was an air of uncertainty, of trepidation, and of determination. They all felt like attacking the geth at the Homeworld was what they needed to do, but they had no way of knowing if it would go well or even if they would survive the battle. Large ships—especially ones that appeared to be command ships—had a tendency to draw fire, and while the Neema looked nothing like a command ship, it was large and in command. The formations would make that obvious.
Kevin could not fault them for their apprehension. Few on the Neema had chosen the life of a soldier, but every single one of them were about to become one whether they wanted to or not… and they knew it.
"This fleet's going to get fucking slaughtered," Maela said quietly to Kevin as they walked through the tightly packed corridors. "Look at them. Nervous as hell, all of them. Barely afloat in the vast emptiness of space, but all of them are going to war. I'll bet most of them have no idea that the reapers will be waiting the moment this fight is done. They have every fucking reason to be worried."
Kevin leaned over as he walked to reply. "Not even a 'but hey, maybe they'll come through stronger' or 'I bet their tight-knit life has made them harder and more determined' or anything? Damn that's cold."
"You know I'm right, Kevin."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think you gave a damn."
Maela grabbed him by the arm to stop him and she stared into his eyes, a rare look of worry in those depths.
"Their fleet is fifty thousand strong, Maela. That's the biggest cohesive non-reaper fleet in the entire galaxy."
"That won't mean a damn thing if none of them are ready for this shit. Guns aren't everything, Kevin. I know I'm no starship engineer, but vessels heading into combat generally have things like armor and kinetic barriers that can withstand a ball of pyjack shit."
"Then you best thank the Goddess that we're not going to be amongst that shitshow," Kevin finally said with irritation.
"There has to be something we can do. I know I'm not exactly one to talk about losses, but maybe I don't want to see a highly intelligent race get their asses handed to them before they even have the chance to turn fire on those reapers."
"There's nothing we can do about that or their decisions, T'Vess. Believe me, the last thing I want to see is a planet littered with flaming wreckage, but that's not our call and we have to put our resources where it has the most impact. You know how that works, just apply the idea to genetics and an R & D business. You can't research or experiment on everything, you work with what has the most potential or you risk wasting precious time."
Maela seemed to get the point and she backed off, lost in thought if the look of consternation on her face was any indication. He found it interesting; she spent so much time building up her reputation as a cold, calculating, and amoral genetics engineer, but when the future of an entire race was hanging in the balance, her inner softy emerged. That, or her matron stage really was starting to catch up with her.
Back on the Peravaash, Kevin was directed back towards the mess hall for a sizable, biotic-tailored meal. When he felt so full that he thought he might rupture his suit, his salarian friend brought him back to the med-bay. Ralik was the only other soul in the room, as all of the injured quarians had been offloaded onto the Neema for more specialized care. A cleaning crew had come through to try and sterilize the room as best as they could, but there was only so much a team could do against all those blood stains in such a short amount of time.
As Kevin hopped up on one of the cleanest medical beds available, Ralik turned around with an injector in hand.
"Whoa whoa whoa, what's that for?" Kevin asked as hands went up in defense.
"Don't wet your suit. It's just one final dose of medi-gel," the salarian replied with a tireless, and somewhat forced, smile.
Kevin relaxed a little. "Oh."
"Aaaaaand a light sedative to help you get to sleep immediately. The medi-gel will work best as you are sleeping to help boost your body's regenerative capabilities, so the longer you can nap during this small downtime, the better off you'll be." He double-checked the injector and stepped up next to Kevin, taking a light grip on his arm. "Would you mind opening up your inoculation port?"
"My what?" It took him a second to catch up. He'd really been away from the scoundrel for too long and hadn't had the chance to be around many salarians. "Oh. Hold on." He tapped on his omni-tool and a small hatch opened somewhere on the back of his left shoulder. He felt the quick prick and the warmth of the medi-gel spread through his shoulder. Before long he could feel his eyes drooping of their own accord.
"Damn… works fast…"
"Sleep well, Kevin. One of us will be back to wake you before we reach the Ulansal."
"You better… wake me up… when I—"
Ralik clearly got impatient waiting for Kevin to try to articulate his drowsy words and he left even before the human could finish sputtering himself to sleep.
