12-25-2156, 1940 hours (Alliance standard time)
Arcturus Station
Arcturus Stream
Parliament Chambers
If Carlo Bonaventura had to choose a single day in his life as the most anxiety-inducing, one that would've terrified him of what was to come after, he would have chosen this day, hands down with no exceptions. Here he was standing center stage behind a khaki podium before the Alliance parliament, holo-cameras and reporters were questioning him before he had even begun his address. Bonaventura resisted the urge to rub his tired eyes; silently wishing he had pre-recorded his statements rather than having to answer to dozens of hungry vultures disguised as parliament members and reporters. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. 'If I don't calm down, I'll start sweating any moment.'
He took a deep breath. 'At least I've been able to practice my speech a few times.' His speech was based upon a standard formula: talk about the good things, get the crowd enthused about the progress humanity has made, how much it had done … before informing the public of the grim possibilities of an alien invasion. He saw the tiny light blink on his wrist and took another deep breath. 'Here goes nothing.'
Just ahead and to the left, the emcee boomed in a deep voice, making the room vibrate. "Ladies and gentlemen, your Prime Minister, Carlos Bonaventura."
Bonaventura straightened his back, putting on the best 'commander-in-chief' expression he had. The effect was personally ruined in part by his mental prayers to not be humanity's last prime minister. Nodding, he smiled kindly, but firmly to the applauding crowd. Keeping the motions slow but confident, he placed his handwritten speech on top of the podium, cleared his throat, and began addressing the crowd.
"My fellow citizens," Bonaventura said, the normally innocuous flash of the press' holo-cameras and vid-bots nearly blinding him. "I thank you for hearing me on this day. I know there are many things you could be doing, but what I have to say today is vitally important, in how we live, and in how our descendants shall live."
He waited out the whisperings, smiling internally. Claiming importance was nothing new … but claiming importance with such a relatively young organization was a make-or-break position. "Our history, as a species, has been defined by success and achievements. Countless times, we have pressed forward with an immense will and intellectual fortitude, making history and permanently affecting the entire course of our species. War, science, literature, art, technology, machines, and discovery have long fueled our growth as a race." He paused for effect, "Since the dawn of man the question has been asked 'are we alone in the universe'?" He inhaled deeply, watching the awareness begin to creep in. He could see it in their eyes as it began dawning on them what he was talking about, the widening pupils, the occasional jaw dropping open. "Today I stand before all of you as your elected representative. It is both my duty and privilege, to honestly, truly, and safely say, that we are not the only intelligent life in the galaxy."
The room immediately erupted into chaos. Reporters began asking questions without pause, trying to make themselves heard over the clatter. Parliament members demanded answers, others calling for military action. Bonaventura scowled, unable to even recognize individual languages in the verbal splatter.
He silenced them with a slam of his gavel, blasting their eardrums with its percussive force. He made his irritation known, glaring at the more vociferous members of his cabinet. "Hours ago, during an expedition, a race of humanoid, space-faring beings called the Raloi made first extraterrestrial contact with the Ninety-Eighth Alliance detachment stationed at Shanxi. They made multiple attempts to communicate with the Alliance naval vessels as we rushed an elected official onto the scene. I am glad to say, that they only wish peaceful co-operation with our race." Feeling a sense of relief, but still somewhat nervous, he nodded, opening the floor to questions.
"Prime Minister Bonaventura!" shouted a reporter. "Are you sure it is a good idea trusting these 'Raloi' when we know very little about them? What if they are waiting to attack us?"
The floodgates seemed to break. Half of the press screamed questions, the other half typing frantically. Bonaventura could only imagine the headlines being sent at that moment. 'How will they take the next bit of news?' He wondered. For a moment, he glanced over the crowd, mentally comparing them to a herd of jackals. 'They will be fed this day.'
Mixed among the voices, he could hear several strident voices rising over the crush. "What if they're carrying diseases or are fugitives?"
"What if they're-"
Bonaventura raised his hands, calming the tornado of voices. "I can assure you beyond a shadow of a doubt, every scenario has been accounted for," he spoke. "Our militaries are being raised to the highest possible level of alert." He nodded to the more militaristic Parliament members. "In the event of hostilities, we will be more than ready. In the event of toxins, whatever biological information the Raloi have shared with us is being sent to our scientists and hospitals where we will make our own decisions. I repeat: every possibility has been accounted for and we are acting accordingly." Bonaventura settled a little lower, fixing the gathered throng of people with a grim stare. "My grandfather had a saying once. It went like this, 'Always hope for the best, but make sure to prepare for the worst.' The Alliance is hopeful of establishing friendly contact with the Raloi, but our military will not hesitate to perform any action necessary to establish our security and sovereignty. Our soldiers are more than willing to enter the battlefield and win because that is what they've been trained to do." Inhaling, Bonaventura chose his next words carefully.
"But that is merely half the story." His sudden change in mood and words captured the attention of everyone in the room. "I have since been informed of another race detected beyond our borders, alien even to the raloi. We know even less about them, but from what we've gathered, their intentions are anything, but pure. The good news is that the raloi have pledged their full support in combating this new threat. The new arrivals have positioned a fleet beyond Shanxi's system and it appears they wish to enact war. Well, I say to you now! If they want a fight, then that is what we will give them! History will remember that we did not provoke this act of aggression, that we did not start this war, but that we will certainly end it. Thank you." With his final words, Bonaventura exited the stage, escaping the beckoning camera flashed and shouted questions.
HSS Superiority
Dreadnought
Command Deck
Rear Admiral Guri' Ban, commander of the 16th fleet, was considered by many to be the most barbaric and ruthless admiral in the Hegemony navy. Ban considered it to be a compliment worthy of his accomplishments, though others would call them atrocities. As a result, of what he perceived as jealousy, Hegemony rivals often tasked him with capturing slaves within Council space. In his long and brutal career, he raided salarian, asari, and even a few turian colonies, capturing hundreds of slaves and razing entire cities. He possessed a fearsome reputation as a cunning and brutal tactician, often employing mercenary slavers in his endeavors. While notorious for his coldblooded tactics, the same reputation ensured cooperation, adding more ships and soldiers to his already fearsome fleet. Only the legendary reputation of the krogan could surpass Ban's ruthlessness and brutality. Growing up amongst pirates, Ban knew from a young age how to break people's spirits and crush any hope they may have of being free once annexed by the Hegemony.
At the mere age of sixteen, Ban had enlisted in the Hegemony navy, already rich in experience by serving on various pirate ships two years prior. While his introduction onto the scene was anything but spectacular, Ban's rise to prominence came after his plan to raid three Asari colonies within three days, capturing over 7,000 slaves and marking the infamous 'Three Days of Tears' in the Asari calendar. That single event had earned Ban both the respect and fear of the Hegemony government, shown in an immediate promotion to rear admiral, much to the dismay of the Asari Republics. The Hierarchy and the Union did not appeared to be surprised, but voiced anger nonetheless and had increased funding for their respective navies.
Upon his promotion to rear admiral and due to his accomplishments, Ban had been offered his choice of command, anything from the light and fast corvettes to the larger, bigger dreadnoughts. Desiring to command a ship worthy of his status, he had requested the HSS Superiority, a newly commissioned 2.1-kilometer long dreadnought with some of the most advanced technology the Hegemony could create, buy, or steal.
The very first thing he did once he took command of the Superiority was to immediately raid a volus colony, capturing several prominent bankers. These new slaves were then put to work managing the Hegemony's economy. As expected, the Council barked but didn't bite, although the Hierarchy did appear to finally have had enough and was ready to declare war before the Asari managed to dissuade them by threatening sanctions. Ban knew the Hierarchy would easily win and withstand any casualties in a fight against the Hegemony, but the cowardly asari weren't willing to make the same sacrifices. The Matriarchs knew if the Hierarchy declared war on the Hegemony, multiple batarian terrorists, slaver, and pirate groups would target not only the Hierarchy but the Republics as well, causing tremendous damage. It was the asari's fear of attack from batarian reprisals that held the turians on a tight leash, leaving the Hegemony free to continue its slaving practices.
Under Ban's leadership, the Hegemony Sixteenth fleet became the scourge of Council Space, with a formidable complement of just over four hundred ships and thousands of troop transports and auxiliary vessels. The commanders were all veterans, their ships ranging from corvettes experienced in countering the salarian elite, to some of the few Hegemony dreadnoughts skilled in long-range bombardment. Now after seventeen years of service, Ban once again found himself on the edge of another golden opportunity. If he managed to pacify a newly discovered race, he would return as a champion to the Hegemony and receive a just reward for his efforts. Of course, one obstacle did stand in his way: Lieutenant Commander Toren, the original discoverer of the primitive race.
Being given a commanding position in the raid, Toren had believed himself to be above all others in the fleet, something that aggravated Ban greatly. Luckily, every naval commander in the fleet knew of Ban's fearsome reputation. His word was law, and the only one ignorant of that fact was the brat in question. Toren was a fool to think he was capable of leading a flotilla, much less a fleet.
Of course, Toren's tantrum over not getting a dreadnought slowed the entire fleet's progress. After fifteen minutes of whining, Ban had finally conceded, giving the simpleton command of one of his dreadnoughts. He made sure to have the original commander, along with every crewmember, of the ship transferred to the Superiority. Normally when a higher officer takes command over a ship, the captain would remain in position, however, Ban didn't want to risk one of his own officers in the hands of an imbecile. It was an open secret; Ban had taken the demand for a dreadnought as a personal insult, but it was equally known that he would put work first and grudges second. There would be a time for executions after the primitives had been given their own opportunity to do the work for him.
With a proud stature, Ban entered the command deck of his ship where he would lead his fleet to victory once more. He stalked over to the galaxy map, wasting little time in pleasantries, preferring to get to work quickly. The map changed from a view of the galaxy to just the local system in detail. It showed the star and its surrounding planets, consisting of two in the habitable zone and two large gas giants well outside any species' habitable zone. The most intriguing fact was that the Relay, a known dormant, at the edge of the system was active, an utterly remarkable fact.
"What are the reports?" Ban asked.
Flight Lieutenant Ib-ba looked up from the array of controls. "Sir, our scans show the Relay has been used recently. Neither we nor any Citadel race currently has any ships in this system, so whoever might have been here either left or used the Relay to jump into another system." He tapped a report into view, sending it to the admiral with a flick of his fingers. "If a primitive race is located nearby, chances are great they'll be located on the other side of the Relay." Ib-ba tapped another command and then turned a full meat-eating smile to his superior officer. "The fleet is currently making top speed towards it and will be arriving at the target system momentarily. All ships are reporting in and are ready for combat."
"Very well, keep up the standard procedure and get me Lieutenant Commander Toren on the line," Ban ordered. He began mentally preparing himself before talking to the one batarian he would most enjoy killing.
The comms flared to life and a single voice came through the speakers.
"Rear Admiral Ban, what can I do for you?" asked a deep batarian voice in a mocking manner. While the title had been adequately spoken, there was no accompanying salute, proper respect paid, not even a hint of the almost required head tilt. Ban's blood almost boiled at the deliberate insult, but he kept himself under control.
"Toren, my fleet is approaching the Relay and are about to jump into an unknown system. If our projections are correct, we may find a garden world inhabited by primitives. If that is the case we'll begin deploying men ground side immediately. Unless the situation changes, I want you to take the Na'Hesit group and target any major cities. Understood?" Ban asked, his tone demanding complete obedience. The information posed a dual purpose, both telling the Lieutenant Commander of the plan and ensuring the lowly batarian knew who was in command.
"Yes, Ban. My men are eager for a fight. Just send us the coordinates after your ships scan the planet." Toren replied, intentionally forgetting to use the admiral's rank.
Ban cut the link, desiring as little to do with the batarian as he could. The insult had not gone unnoticed, causing Ban's eye to twitch at the arrogance the lieutenant commander held. He would like nothing better than to have his own ship pour fire on the presumptuous idiot, but that would mean a waste of good batarian soldiers. Plus if he was lucky, Toren would get killed by the primitive race. He could only hope.
"Anyone want to make bets on how long it'll take for us to pacify this race?" asked Vras Me-Shume, the ship's gunnery officer.
Sub-commander Gonu growled in annoyance. "It doesn't matter. Primitives incapable of covering their tracks couldn't take on a Hegemony flotilla, let alone a full suppression fleet."
"You forget if the salarians noticed one of our fleets missing they'll be certain to alert the Hierarchy," Amon said. As the official representative of the Na'Hesit, he carried a certain amount of fear among the crew. "I'd rather be gone if or when they show up. If I know the salarians well, the Hierarchy is already informed and is trying to pressure the Council into acting."
"Irrelevant. Once we arrive in the system, destroy whatever pathetic ships they have present and commence ground deployment," Ban ordered. "I want this done right, am I understood?" His fierce gaze raked over the crew, causing them to nod. "Good."
The ship cruised almost silently under their feet, powering through the distances. The massive, ancient piece of technology ahead grew larger until they reached the optimal range.
"Sir, we are approaching the Relay and activating the FTL drive," Ib-ba said as the ship was engulfed by the Relay's current before being sling-shot across a vast distance of space. Seconds later, the batarian dreadnought exited FTL, quickly followed by the rest of the fleet. All batarian vessels dropped into normal space set in combat formation. Decades of practice and frequent raids gave the 16th fleet readiness to meet the small defensive formation of alien ships waiting for them.
"Sir, we have contact with ships of unknown origin. Profiles don't match any known Citadel signatures. Most likely this is the primitive race Toren was speaking of." Ib-ba's hands flew over the controls. "They are currently holding defensive formation in front of a garden world, possibly their homeworld," Ib-ba reported, the ship's scanners rapidly pinging. "Total numbers place the enemy fleet at seventy ships with the largest reaching battlecruiser class."
"This is going to be easy," Gonu said, grinning at the odds. "All ships, ready weapons and begin selecting targets. Let's show this primitive race the might of the Hegemony!" Over the comms, several commanders yelled in agreement.
Ban, on the other hand, was contemplating darker thoughts. The video feed clearly showed two distinct types of ships, which only he seemed to be greatly aware of. 'Two different ship designs? Toren you idiot, didn't you bother sending in a probe first to gather intelligence or even make a slight attempt to investigate the system? No matter, we have them heavily outnumbered.'
He began an examination of the enemy fleet. Years of practice had taught him to incorporate as much data as soon as possible; naval battles were treacherous, even with a decided advantage. Over three dozen of the unknown vessels were apparently frigate class, while less than twenty were cruisers. Only three of the enemy ships managed to reach near or above a kilometer long, compared to Ban's three dreadnoughts. Roughly half of the ships had a smooth, slim profile, curved and sleek, yet the scans showed them to be heavily armed and armored. They were multi-colored, unlike the more pragmatic Hegemony vessels, white with a blue stripe along the hull. The other half was coated in a silver shade and had an aquatic look with the front halves of the ships exhibiting a curved tip while the rear swooped in a circular fashion. The silver ships were giving usual eezo readings, while the multi-colored ones were surprisingly giving off low readings.
'It appears Toren was mistaken. Either we have two different species, appearing to have an alliance of sorts or one species with two highly differentiated factions. If the former, the multi-colored shipbuilders appear to be more energy efficient ... if the latter, we have a possible schizophrenic subspecies? Regardless, I now possibly have two races to conquer,' Ban thought.
The processing took less than two minutes. He shifted, activating the wide-band address. "All ships, this is Rear Admiral Ban speaking, assume battle formation. Target the comm. buoys first." Following his orders, the batarian fleet began to re-organize to the more offensive formation. The comm. buoys were easily destroyed by his fleet's corvettes; disrupting his foes' communications. Ban didn't have to worry about the enemy opening fire since both fleets were still out of range from each other. He held no doubt whatsoever about the success of his mission and clearly understood the importance of a quick victory. The Council could not, under any circumstances, find out what was about to occur.
With the initial bombardment out of the way, Ban moved to stand before the main viewscreen, looking at the space beyond. He had his hands crossed behind his back, watching the scene calmly, quietly, patiently waiting for his fleet to take up the proper formation. Aside from the four hundred and two ships, he had over three million soldiers under his command; Toren's slaver group added another two million soldiers and fifty vessels to his already large force. Plenty of soldiers … or so he hoped.
In space, with the enhanced vision the main screen afforded him, he saw the batarian fleet moving into position like a rehearsed play. Corvette flotilla packs, lead by frigates, sidled, flanking the fleet's edges. Battlecruisers and their smaller kin formed a semi-hemisphere in front of the fleet's three dreadnoughts, providing a screen of fire while protecting the command vessels.
Ban calmly witnessed the scene from his ship, pride flowing into him at the immense professionalism displayed by his men. "Accelerate to combat speed, towards the center of the primitive fleet. Once in range target their largest ships before advancing on the colony. Flotilla packs are to perform evasive actions and flank the enemy on their sides. I don't want a single enemy vessel left standing," He ordered, exuberant confidence showing on his face. This was war; this was how honors were won.
SSV Hawking
Carrier
Command Deck
"Stephen, are you sure that these readings are correct?" Wang asked the AI in disbelief. Even with the early warnings provided from Hackett's probes, the news was still baffling. Barely hours had passed since contact with the raloi and now, a huge fleet of ships had appeared in the system. Stephen's initial estimates placed the unknown fleet to be approximately four hundred ships, which had prompted an immediate warning call to all Alliance and Confederate ships.
"I know it may be hard to believe, but I assure you that I am correct in my calculations. There are precisely four hundred and fifty-two ships, fifty of which are acting as the vanguard and are rapidly advancing," the AI replied in its phlegmatic, but impersonal voice. "I estimate fifteen minutes before they are within weapons range."
The bridge's crew was shocked into silence by the news. A huge fleet of hostile ships had just entered one of mankind's frontier systems. The prominent fact that they were the only thing standing between the colony and the oncoming horde was slowly trickling into their minds. The realization caused a chill to cross the bridge so strong it caused them to stop their tasks to process the information.
"My God," Wang was dumbstruck. Never in his career in the navy had he seen such a concentration of ships and to make matters worse, they were hostile. Even with his hastily formed defensive strategy, Wang was fairly certain he could not hold out long enough for reinforcements. "Get General Williams and Admiral Talal on the line right now!" While the destruction of the comm. buoys near the Relay had practically isolated the system, Wang could still use his ship's own comms. to communicate with Arcturus or any other allied personnel.
"Yes, sir." The communications officer said, barely able to control his emotions. The fact that he still operated with a certain level of efficiency was a credit to his training.
"Stephen, go to Red Alert. I want every ship we have to bring their cyberwarfare suites to full capacity. Tell them to start selecting out targets." Wang said, issuing a new set of orders. The AI acknowledged the request, relaying the orders rapidly to the rest of the newly-formed fleet at such a speed that no organic could possibly hope to match.
Pressing commands on his console, Wang reconfigured his communication request, bouncing the signal transmissions to the communications room. "Commander Marché, you have the deck," Wang said, heading straight for the bridge's exit.
Commander Marché stared at Wang's retreating figure, apparently waiting for the procedural transfer, but quickly realized the enormity of the situation and nodded once. "Yes, sir. I will not fail you." He said. The commander turned to the crew, pretending to show a calm he did not feel, and starting barking orders. "I want a report on the ship's systems ASAP. Get moving people, we do not have all day!"
The orders of Marchè faded into silence as the bridge's doors closed behind Wang, habit directing him towards the heart of the ship. Knowing the enemy fleet was approaching, Wang walked as fast as he could without looking comical. Down a ramp, back under an overhang, laired a door bearing the inscription: 'Communications', Wang entered into a security checkpoint scanner, guarded by two marines. The scanners, sometimes derided as a useless expense, served to protect the entrance into the second most important area of the ship.
"Sir," greeted one of the marines, making a quick salute.
"Chief," he replied, returning the salute and entering through a great square. A moment later a white grid flew across the square from side to side for a few seconds. Wang hated the procedure, taking up invaluable time that he did not have. After the grid finished scanning his biometric signature, Wang quickly walked through the checkpoint and into a large room, inscribed with the letters 'MWWAN', which stood for microwave-based wireless wide-area network.
Inside, Wang pressed several panels on the main console before him. The oval room grew dark and the captain hastened to position himself within the grid being etched in the dark polished floor. Soon he became wrapped in another white grid, but this one serving to project his image rather than scanning his biometrics. He took a deep breath, knowing that doing so would delay the scanning procedure, but it was justified: he was anxious. Closing, and then opening his eyes, Wang looked around the new enormous dark room and saw two familiar figures. One was human, the other was alien. He breathed again, almost relieved by the very sight of both of them
"General Williams, Admiral Talal," Wang greeted. "We have much to discuss, and little time in which to do it in."
Alliance Military Headquarters
New Denver
Shanxi
Finally done with the impromptu meeting with the other four commanding officers, Williams was about to exit the communications building when a sergeant came in running and warned him of another incoming priority message this time from the human/raloi fleet. He was unable to do anything but quickly agree, partially to avoid annoying the raloi, and partially to gain as much information as possible. In war, battles were won by knowing as much as possible.
Entering the room again and repeating the procedure typical of an MWWAN, he inserted his channel and frequency codes. Immediately his projected image was transported to a huge dark room he had seen only a few times prior. The room represented extremely high security, notifying the users of the importance of the communication, and was used solely for the most confidential of conversations.
The images of the Alliance and Confederate naval commanders appeared almost a second later.
"General Williams, Admiral Talal," the human captain greeted. "We have much to discuss and little time in which to do it in."
"This better be important captain. I'm in the middle of preparing the colonial defense," Williams said quietly, but with an angry inflection in his voice.
"I'm sure that the captain called us for a reason, general," Talal said, having a strangely soothing voice. It calmed him instantly.
"I can assure you that it is," Wang answered, projecting an overview of the system with a hand gesture. "Admiral Talal, I have ordered my officers to send you a copy of the enemy fleet's formation and numbers."
"My thanks, captain. Our technicians have noted the enemy's cannons are a bit more powerful than ours, but by how much is unknown," the admiral said, with a hint of shame laced in his words.
"Do not worry about it. We have much more important matters to deal with. My ship's AI has performed analyzes on the situation, and came to a conclusion that is disconcerting, to say the least," Wang said, emphasizing disconcerting.
Williams felt attracted by the Alliance captain's words and could not refrain from asking. "Disconcerting? In what way?"
The map near Wang vanished, reforming into a closer resolution of the Relay. Red dots poured out of it like water, advancing towards Shanxi. When the torrent finally stopped, a small counter on the edge of the map revealed an enormous tally.
Williams choked "So many enemies? Where did they come from?" His stomach churned, disheartened. He had never seen so many ships together. The only silver lining was that the enemy fleet was still outside of weapons range.
Talal features grew into a frown, becoming greatly concerned by the revelation. "So this is it ... we're outnumbered, at least on a naval basis." He had obviously known the enemy possessed more ships, but he didn't realize it was by such a wide margin. The magnitude was indeed staggering.
"Unfortunately, yes," Wang concluded. "However, the few mines put in place by our corvettes should stall them for a time. Based on preliminary scans, the enemy fleet appears to be lacking any nuclear capabilities or ability to counter our stealth measures; meaning they have no way of detecting the minefield or Hackett's ships."
"And once the trap has been sprung, the enemy fleet won't realize an Alliance flotilla powering up less than a hundred kilometers from their starboard side," Talal concluded.
Wang smiled at Talal's comprehension of naval warfare. "Absolutely correct. This will give us the chance to eliminate a good portion of the enemy fleet. It won't be much, but every gain we make will no doubt delay them."
Williams was not a sailor and was well aware that his two companions knew more about space combat than he did. "It's not all bad. We now have the enemy's strengths, numbers, and probable goals. Captain, admiral do what you can in space. Now if you'll excuse me I have a planet to prepare," he said before giving a salute to both naval commanders. "May God be with you both." He closed the connection with the two. Turning around, he headed towards the exit once more. Walking back outside, he found the sergeant and to his surprise, Colonel Matthews.
"Colonel," Williams beckoned the man closer without changing his pace. "There is no time to lose."
"General, we have some strange reports coming in from the fleet ..." The colonel started, but Williams raised his hand, stopping him.
"I already know everything. Perhaps more than I like," he said. Noticing the confusion on the colonel's face, Williams instead changed the topic to more pressing matters. "Right now I need your full attention. We're currently under Stigma Protocol. All human forces are now currently under the command of the Alliance and are being readied to combat a possible alien invasion. Arcturus is sending reinforcements, but the first wave is scheduled to arrive in over two weeks." Williams explained, watching the colonel soak all the information in.
"Until then? What do we do?" Matthews questioned. He suspected the reinforcements would come in the form of the System's Alliance 23rd Marine Frontier Division, supplemented by the 62nd and 81st Airborne Divisions. The marine divisions were known to patrol the outer borders of Alliance Space, so they would be already prepared for rapid deployment. However, the naval support sent with the 5th fleet would be a mystery since Arcturus command had little intelligence on the enemy's capabilities.
Williams stopped walking, turning to stare at Matthews straight in the eye. "We hold the line." He spun back, continuing to walk, and began issuing orders. "Send our marines and paratroopers to oversee power planets, main road junctions, and major cities unoccupied by national governments. Any police forces we have will be used to escort civilians to safety and act as the last line of defense. If things go well we may not have to use them."
Deep down, Williams knew a great many lives would be lost in the upcoming days. All he could do was make sure the majority of the lives lost were the enemy. "Colonel, disguise this base's profile. Main transmitters, paint strips, everything identifying us as the main command center should either be removed or altered. With any luck, the enemy won't realize our central command is located here. Keep the main shield offline; we'll save power and keep a lower profile that way. Activate it only if we are going to get hit by something really big, maybe it will give us a chance to survive." The colonel was about to take the lead, but Williams altered their path toward the armory.
"General?"
"We need to be armed, colonel, plus I have to check how many guns we have in stock. That'll be easier to do from the armory. The enemy is in the system and I don't know how long Wang and the Raloi can hold out. If possible order the militias we have available to hide in rural areas and offer them whatever is left in inventory. The more guns we have on our side the better. What N7 operatives we do have, prepare them for disruptive actions against the enemy. Once that's done, I want you and three other officers to go to these coordinates," He said, bringing up his Omni-tool and sending the burst of information to the colonel.
"What is this?" Matthews' voice was beginning to show a deeper concern with the general's behavior.
"It leads to a hollowed out cave. Inside is a set of heavy set of steel doors leading to an Alliance bunker we placed there in case of nuclear war between the Big Four. I'll stay here, directing the defense of the city, and will reach you when the time comes." Williams hoped the Colonel bought what he was saying. In reality, he'd die before abandoning his brothers and sisters in arms.
"But General, if we lose you ..." The colonel tried in vain to dissuade Williams' from his thoughts.
"Go, colonel. I can take care of myself." Williams brushed off the younger man's protests with a quick salute before continuing to walk towards the armory.
Citadel
Presidium
Council Chamber
The Citadel, a large station in the void of space, served as the heart and mind of the galaxy. It was a marvelous and mysterious fortress that had been proof against any attack. Those that had designed it, the renowned Protheans, had built it of the same material as their Relays. The enigmatic race had created this magnificent structure as their greatest work yet discovered, for reasons no one yet understood they simply vanished. The mammoth construction stretched over 44 kilometers in length and spread itself nearly 13 kilometers wide, large enough to house and protect tens of millions of lives.
The Element Zero energy system developed by the Protheans to power the Citadel had been eagerly adopted by those that had followed them. Vehicles, spaceships, and a thousand other technologies used the iridescent crystal in a myriad of different ways. The protective weaponry on the Citadel drew energy from the never-seen core, motivating the original asari explorers to create miniature versions for themselves. The Beacons that had graciously introduced the various races to Element Zero powered technology had been mere tidbits compared to the depth of creative design evident within the Citadel.
Over two thousand years after the discovery of the Citadel, the asari still had yet to plumb its secrets. The salarians, a race of extremely intelligent amphibians, had made discoveries in leaps and bounds using the original hardware, but nothing they had created ever truly matched the Prothean Citadel for scope and complexity.
The famed Presidium stood proudly at the center of the Citadel, the unchanging, never-moving axis around which the Wards rotated. The edifice could be thought of as a metaphor for the governing bodies of the galaxy, the source of power that enabled the signatory members of the galaxy to perform their tasks. Indeed, the Presidium was where the ultimate authority of Citadel space convened, the Council.
The Council itself was an executive committee comprised of one representative from the three greatest races known to the galaxy, each with unique characteristics that complemented the others. The asari, a mono-gendered race and original discoverers of the Citadel, served as the station's diplomats and mediators. Their long-lived peoples moved with an innate grace, and understated power that only hinted at the centuries they had experienced.
The salarians, the second oldest Council race, had the shortest lifespan. Their limited existence was more than compensated by having, as a race, a brilliant mindset. The lesser intelligent of their race was capable of making intuitive deductions on minimal information, a skill that the asari had joyously accepted. The salarians served as the eyes and ears of the Citadel, creating ever-newer methods of surveillance and sabotage.
The turians, a noble and honorable race, provided the bulk of military and peacekeeping forces. Discovered by the salarians, the turian race had been an interstellar empire centuries before the Council had even known of their existence. Their overwhelming contribution to the Council had been that of stoic resolve, creating a much-needed counterpoint to the salarian drive for advancement and the phlegmatic asari lifestyle. The Rachni Wars had been credited to the salarians insatiable curiosity, a double-edged weapon. While the rachni had nearly destroyed the galaxy, the solution had been nearly as devastating, and equally due to salarian curiosity. The krogan had been discovered by the same curiosity, and uplifted against the rachni, only to turn on their benefactors when nothing could challenge their military prowess. The arrival of the Turians was a godsend and marked a turning point in the rebellions. After much heavy fighting, the Turians had managed to defeat the krogan using salarian brilliance … but had never trusted the ephemeral race since.
Representatives of each race formed the Council, which convened in the Presidium to discuss interaction between their peoples and to consider the laws. Most meetings were open to the public, a way for everyone to have a say in their government and an effort to maintain a transparent system.
Unknown to its denizens, the Citadel Council did not conduct all its business in an open court. Some situations required the need for a discrete environment. Thus when it was reported by the salarian STG that the Hegemony's infamous 16th fleet had not only dropped out of communications but had completely vanished, the Council decided to hold a private session.
The room where the three most powerful individuals in the galaxy had chosen to convey was open on one side, finished with a transparent viewport stretching from floor to ceiling. The glass provided the beautiful scenery of the wards was one-way, posing as a reflective wall behind a beautiful waterfall in the Presidium Park, creating a double-protection from unwanted surveillance. In the center of the room stood a circular, granite covered conference table. All three of its seats were vacant.
"We should discuss the situation regarding the batarians," the turian councilor, Sparatus insisted. For a turian Councilor, he was very young, less than thirty years of age. Both his youth and natural bloodline aided him in taking a militaristic approach to most issues. He had voiced approval for repealing the Treaty of Farixen, a view shared by most turians. Sparatus knew he was regarded as having a one-mind approach by Councilor Tevos, but he genuinely believed in eradicating a threat before it had a chance to grow. With the treaty in place, the construction of dreadnoughts had been limited in proportion to Council members. It was one of the few immutable founding rules that for every one dreadnought each associate race had, the salarians and asari were allowed to have three, with the turians possessing five.
The balance was designed to provide a measure of security, halt reckless military spending by all races, and provide the Hierarchy with a numerical edge. However, the turians had long since seen it as a way to keep them on a leash. Even with a total of 200 dreadnoughts in its navy, the Hierarchy still lacked the necessary firepower to keep pirates from raiding their colonies. The batarians had a laughable stock of 40 dreadnoughts, but they compensated by employing slaver groups and massive numbers of lesser vessels. There were hundreds of them roaming the Terminus and the Traverse, each with at least one dreadnought in their 'fleets'.
Soliris cleared her throat. "STG Intelligence reports that the Hegemony's 16th fleet has simply …, for a lack of a better term, vanished. Spectre teams stationed in the Terminus have reported the same. Tevos, I believe I do not need to remind you of how a great concern this poses. You of all people should know what happened last time." Her natural vocal speed was reduced, in order to be understood better by the other species; the original language was able to convey far more information in less time than either the turian or asari dialects. She had been trained well, as the salarian representative to the Council. Like Sparatus, Soliris had a military mindset. Her species' natural pursuit of knowledge was considered by many to be both an asset and a curse.
"I am well aware of the possible consequences of such an action, Admiral Ban specifically," Tevos responded, looking at Soliris across the table with her bright eyes. Her voice was calm and reasonable, the paragon of diplomatic detachments for which the asari were famed. "But, the threat of armed conflict should be used as a last resort. A war with the Terminus Systems would be catastrophic at a best." Despite her calm approach to the situation, Tevos' approval rating by the asari Matriarchs had dropped significantly after her lack of armed response to the worst tragedy ever experienced by the Republics in centuries: the Three Days of Tears.
Sparatus suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. It was the same tired excuse the asari had always made when any military response to the batarians was presented. Ironically, if the turians were simply allowed to enter the Terminus, and by extension, batarian territory, there would be no need to debate a 'proper' response to the batarians. "So, what do you propose? Attempt to communicate with the batarian ambassador? Perhaps feed him expensive foods while avoiding uncomfortable questions?"
"If possible, yes," Tevos replied, ignoring the second question. Although she was a diplomat of the Council, the true goal of each representative was to enhance the standing of their own species. In this, she was more than willing to put the welfare of the asari over that of their allies. All of the Matriarchs had agreed: in any armed conflict between the batarians and the turians, the asari would suffer the most in the crossfire. The point of contention amongst the Matriarchs was whether the cost was worth it.
"We have tried that road in the past, Tevos. Look at all it has accomplished."Sparatus slapped his palm on the table. It wasn't quite as impressive as when the five-fingered asari performed the same action. "Every time we attempt negotiating a treaty, the batarians always complain about repressing their cultural rights. Any treaty or trade deal we make, the batarians either demand terms we cannot support, or ignore our work completely."
"What do you suggest? Send a Council fleet into batarian territory? You know how they will respond," Tevos countered.
"Perhaps not …." The smile the salarian had was enough to both intrigue and alarm the other Councilors.
"What do you mean?" Sparatus questioned. His mandibles pressed flat against his jaw, suppressing a hopeful twinge.
"I've received information from STG teams monitoring the Relay network. Their data shows the Hegemony's 16th fleet last known location was near Relay 314." The salarian's large eyes gleamed; a salarian with important, unknown information was a happy salarian. "As you know, Relay 314 is inactive, frozen by the last audit."
"Soliris, you can't possibly be saying—" Tevos began.
"For certain, I cannot say the batarians have actually tried to activate a dormant Mass Relay and then used it. However, all the evidence I have received points to that conclusion. To wit: The batarians ignore Council law on a regular basis. The most notorious fleet in the Hegemony has gone missing. Said missing fleet was last seen by a dormant Alpha class Relay." Her tridactyl fingers spread expressively. "Therefore, there is no direct evidence, but a compelling series of circumstances."
"Then we have an opportunity at hand."
"Sparatus?" Tevos' tone was wary.
"Activating any dormant Mass Relays is strictly forbidden by Council law. The batarians know this for a fact. Its one thing to hide behind primitive customs, but outright disobedience of a law that has stood since the Rachni Wars is an act that cannot go unpunished. How will the associate races react when they learn this?" Sparatus jutted his chin forwards, daring the asari to deny him. "The Hegemony is purposefully risking another Rachni War, no matter their reasoning. If this doesn't call for military intervention, then I would be forced to question your sanity!"
Tevos tilted her head, acknowledging the point, although eliding the direct challenge. "Are you suggesting we start a war with the batarians? Soliris herself said the STG is not a hundred percent certain that the batarians even activated the Relay." Tevos drew a breath, "War is always the last resort. We have no proof, no justification for it. While I too doubt progress in the diplomatic field, that is our only legal course with the batarians."
Sparatus snorted. "Hardly our only course of action. What I suggest is sending a Hierarchy fleet to investigate Relay 314. If it still dormant, then we can discuss how to deal with the batarians with as much diplomacy as you wish." He shared a look with Soliris, "Among the topics of discussion, I want to know where the 16th fleet is located. However, if the Relay is active, then there is no doubt Rear Admiral Ban has broken Council law. In that case, the Hierarchy fleet has both the authority, and the responsibility, to travel through it and apprehend those responsible for breaking the law." The turian councilor took a deep breath. "This is beyond our Council, Tevos. We cannot risk another Rachni War. To ignore something of such magnitude is beyond foolish. The lives of billions rest in our hands."
Tevos turned to her right, silently asking Soliris for her opinion. The salarian nodded soberly. "This is a dangerous situation. Very dangerous indeed. If the batarians discovery a race far worse than the Rachni and we did nothing to stop them, then we would be equally guilty for whatever happens afterward."
Tevos sighed again. "Those in favor of sending a Hierarchy fleet to Relay 314?"
Both the turian and salarian Councilors raised their hands. Outnumbered in the democratic vote, Tevos had no choice but to go along with her colleagues' plans. "Very well, then. A Hierarchy fleet will be sent to the aforementioned Relay. Sparatus, do you have a specific fleet in mind?"
"I believe the Second Fleet under the command of Admiral Servius would be the best choice," he replied. "He is a level-headed commander who always attempts diplomacy first before committing to an armed response."
"Very well. If there is no more business, this meeting will be adjourned. Tomorrow, we have a petition from the Volus Protectorate, and a number of trade agreements to consider. I wish you well." Tevos tapped the ceremonial gavel she, as a senior member, carried.
Silently, they left the room, concentrating on the potential ramifications. The fate of the galaxy hung on the actions of the next few days.
A/N: Yep, ended with a cliffhanger. The next chapter is when all hell breaks loose. Also competent Council and Batarians? What sorcery is this? :)
Trivia:
1. Bonaventura's speech was inspired by Endwar itself where a narrator states that they did not start a war, but they will end it.
2. Ban's character and nature naturally sprang out as a counter-point to Toren's personality. In the upcoming chapters, you will learn about the similarities as well as major differences between the two characters.
3. The Three Days of Tears was created to highlight Ban's brilliance as well as show how much of a thorn he is on the Council's side. I mean he practically dances around them.
4. Yeah, the Turians have 200 dreadnoughts, you didn't see that coming now, did you? This was done for two reasons: To highlight the superior military might of the turians compared to all other races and to have a more realistic number of ships. I mean after 1200 years and only 38 dreadnoughts constructed while the Alliance has 8? Yeah, not likely.
5. The idea of hundreds of pirate fleets roaming around the Terminus and Traverse was to show a more logical reason why the asari would want to avoid war with them. Even though they have no singular leader, the fact that each one of them has at least one dreadnought upon of the Hegemony's 40 you can see why the current state of affairs are the way they are. Now both Sparatus and Tevos have enough reason for their stance and they are both right, it's just up to the reader to decide if it will be worth it. I mean look at the middle east right now, after years of intervention it pretty much is the same as it was before.
6. Chapter title is another Endwar reference, where the timeline trailer states: 'The Stage is Set.'