BioWare; reverse and hold at 38.5! (Ah! Flashback humor!)
Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 6, 2183
Author's Note: Take a look at the date. You've seen it before. Now look at the disclaimer. Put two and two together. Guess what kind of day this chapter will be?
Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder held her Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Combat Pistol in a two-handed grip as she fired several aimed rounds at the target in front of her, sitting only ten meters away as she kept the sights at the middle of the target. She then collapsed-and-holstered her pistol to her left hip as she plucked her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun from the magnetic lock on her chestpiece and engaged the target downrange, putting five five-round bursts into the target. Sara worked on keeping the muzzle climb of the Stinger manageable as she fired the submachine gun until she filled the heat sink to capacity. The Corpsman locked the heat extraction bolt back and slapped the weapon back on her chest while drawing her Kessler left-handed and putting the rest of its rounds into the target before the slide locked back automatically to dispense the heat from the copper sink of the pistol.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson called out as the eighteen Marines of Night Shift stopped firing at the impromptu range, doing their twice-a-week firing drills. Sara had shifted her schedule earlier in the week so that she could include the Night Shift Marines with her checks, and was more-or-less adjusted to the new schedule and hours. She had been on Therum for two weeks now, and everything was running smoothly for her. The Clinic was now fully stocked and equipped, and she had worked out a schedule that would have her working her duties, her courses, her project, and also see Professor Irissa T'vara on a regular basis without leaving her exhausted or missing training. Thankfully, none of the Marines even suspected that she was seeing anyone from the Dig Site, the Marines likely thinking her moving about too much and keeping herself occupied with a good many activities to even consider it. They had gotten use to her being there, and the normal issues that a woman might have amongst a male-heavy population had thankfully been at a very bare minimum. She got looks and one or two sidebar comments that weren't vulgar or insulting, so she wasn't worried.
"Holster weapons and check your targets." Gunny Halverson called out as eighteen Marines (and one Sailor) approached the projected targets that stood ten meters from their firing positions, the Marines armed with their Systems Alliance Marine Corps-issued Hahne-Keder M7 Lancer Assault Rifles while she was armed with a Kessler and Stinger so that she could action upon a target single-handedly while working on a patient with another. Sara walked forward with the other Marines, reaching the series of man-sized targets that they had been firing upon, holographically-projected targets in which round strikes were marked. She reached her target, and was satisfied to see that her Kessler shots were highlighted blue, and all within a four centimeter diameter of the sternum of her target. The Stinger hits were marked red, and she saw that while a mass majority of them were also around the center, the muzzle climb going up and to the right showed a few round crawling up towards the targets' left shoulder. Still, every round had been on-target, and not productive for a long, healthy life.
"Nice bingo, Doc." Corporal Kyle Stannis complimented, the Marine Non-Com standing to her left as he checked her target. "Splash some red paint with that hand-eye there."
"Don't have to bring them back if I hole their chest cavities." Ryder told the Corporal, who snorted and smiled at that. Hospital Corpsmen were suppose to heal any wounded they came across, to include enemy combatants. Sara understood the concept of why the policy was in place; one hoped that the other side would do the same. It sounded pretty on paper. Realistically? Unlikely to happen. If Sara found herself in a firefight, her Marines came first. Then civilians. Then possibly wildlife. She might go out and donate blood before coming across a wounded enemy and contemplating using her supplies on some motherfucker who earned it if they were still breathing after having a run-in with the Marine Corps fist. "Yours looks like it got hit with the plague." Stannis' target had a bit of a larger diameter from his M7 Lancer. It was harder to control the muzzle break, and had a hefty recoil. For the Lancer, Stannis' grouping was actually quite good. "Should I go get a Chaplain to say Last Rites?"
"Naw, we'll just let it rot in the sun." The Corporal replied with a half-smirk, looking at his target. "Why spend the energy burying it when some magma flow will eat it up sooner or later?"
"True that." Ryder replied as she turned back from her target to return to the firing line, seeing Gunny Halverson chewing out one of the Privates whose marksman skills were less-than-par. Every Marine was a rifleman, but not every rifleman was actually a good one. "Ballsack looks ready to cry."
"Shoulda held his rifle like a Marine, not some fucking bus driver." There was no sympathy in the Corporal's voice. A Marine that couldn't fire well wasn't a Marine; he was a JAFO. "Perhaps we can go get him a job swabbing a deck somewhere."
"Always room for more bosom mates." Sara snarked with a nasty grin, making Kyle laugh at the joke. Bosum's Mates were Navy Maintenance and Janitorial Services, being an all-around utility position that all boats needed. A bosom mate, on the other hand, was a Navy term for someone who wasn't much good for anything except scraping chipped ablative paint off a hull or some other menial position. "Maybe we can teach him how to cook. How hard is it to boil water?"
"Dishes do need cleaning." That was one of the 'Private' duties; Kitchen Patrol. That was the official term. The unofficial term was 'kitchen bitch'. Whoever was that weeks' screw up pulled one of the 'Private' duties, in which Kitchen Patrol and Bathroom Patrol were always good options.
"My Clinic needs a new coat of paint." Sara exaggerated, making the Corporal laugh once more as they reached the firing line, Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach still getting his ass reamed by Gunny. "Could always have him sweep outside." That meant a police call around the Barracks for trash out in the environs of Therum. Not that it was particularly dirty, but corrective punishment was punishment, plain and simple.
"Broom or toothbrush?" Kyle kept up with the joke, and the other firer next to them, Sergeant Christoph Wirtz snorted, obviously overhearing them. Everyone was back on the firing line as Gunny reset the targets, the round strikes disappearing as the holographic targets refreshed themselves. Sara drew her M5 Stinger and held the submachine gun in a two-handed grip, with her left hand on the forward handle as she braced the collapsible buttstock against her shoulder, sighting down the holographically-displayed close quarters combat sight and putting it on target. When Gunny Halverson called out to fire, Ryder squeezed the trigger of her M5, putting a five-round burst of concentrated fire into the center of the man-shaped target. She readjusted quickly and fired again, touching the sight's reticle upon the chest as she held her Stinger in just the slightest of downward angles to help control the muzzle climb as she reacquired and fired upon the target once more. Her left hand dropped to her M9 Kessler on her left hip as she collapsed and locked the Stinger on her chestplate as she drew, positioned, aimed, and fired upon her target, firing her pistol six times as quickly and as accurately as she could. She reversed the process, slipping her pistol to her hip while her right hand went for her submachine gun, getting it into combat operations single-handedly as she gripped it properly, seated it against her shoulder, and expended the rest of the heat sink firing at the target. When the M5's overheat alarm went off, Sara locked the bolt back as she slapped it on her chest and transitioned to her Kessler, firing the remaining six shots into her target. When she was finished, Gunny called for cease fire since Ryder was the last one to finish, armed with two non-fully automatic weapons. That was actually a good thing.
"You got smooth transition, going back and forth." Sergeant Wirtz complimented Sara as they moved towards their targets. "Lots of practice?"
"Every range I've been on." The Petty Officer replied, nodding her head. As a Corpsman, she was armed with 'lighter' weapons because they filled more of a self-defensive role as oppose to an assault role. If no one was hurt, she knew Marine Assault Tactics to keep up and position herself appropriately with a Marine weapons' team, adding her fire along with their own. But if a man went down, it was her job to get him out of the line of fire, and to protect him from further harm. It was possible that she would have to fight her way out of a dangerous situation, thus she was issued weapons that were reasonably effective to use with just one hand, unlike a Lancer, which was too long and heavy to use accurately with just one hand. Sara practiced on her transitions from one weapon to the other for two reasons; to get herself good at being able to put rounds on target with either hand, and to practice transitions between her submachine gun and her pistol without having to think or look. In a combat situation, that was the difference between life and death. Halverson called out for everyone to check on their targets, and once more Sara was satisfied with what she saw; even firing faster, her aim was right in the inner ring of the chest, making her shots potentially lethal.
"Got you some, Doc." Corporal Stannis commented, looking at her target after checking his own. They both overheard Gunny Halverson yelling at another Private, this one Lapdance. "Ugh, Privates. Almost rather have some mechs or drones."
"But who would do the dishes then, Swag?" The Corpsman asked, using Stannis' Boot Camp nickname. "And if you point at me, I'll donate your corpse for medical research."
"Ouch, Doc. That's harsh." The Corporal chuckled as Sergeant Wirtz snorted in response, obviously overhearing them. Ryder was pretty certain that Stannis was 'friendly flirting' with her; innocuous and appropriate. Even if she weren't in a semi-relationship, she still had that rule; no one in her unit. That just spoke of stupidity. "Think we could contract one of the civilians?"
"Civilians… work?" Sara pretended to be mystified as they walked back to the firing line, the targets resetting. "All I ever see them do is bitch and whine. Probably have to pay them twice as much and expect half the competency."
"True." Wirtz replied from the opposite side of Sara, nodding sagely. "Every time I ask something out of a MOD puke, the first response is a sigh and a look of indignation, like 'how dare you interrupt my lazy time'." That had both the Corporal and the Corpsman laughing. Ministry of Defense Members were employed by the Systems Alliance Military to fill in non-combat roles as oppose to filling the ranks with actual military members. One could find them in locations such as equipment issuance depots, administrative positions, maintenance bays, and in accountability roles. Sadly, it wasn't uncommon for a member of the Navy or Marines to be overheard having to deal with said MOD employees being slow or incompetent at their jobs. Ryders' medical orders came from a medical depot ran by MOD employees, and not one of her orders had yet to be filled correctly. Sara wondered if it was illiteracy or incompetency that was the issue. Perhaps both. "When to a school about a year back where we had civilian trainers teaching us how to check lifepods for viability and proper functionality, and I swear not a one of them could actually fit inside a lifepod. Too fat."
"That's not fat, it's cushioning." Sara pointed out, making both of the Marines chuckle. "Wouldn't want to bruise their asses sitting on them all day." Stannis was cracking up too hard, and even Wirtz was shaking his head and laughing hard. Sara wiped the sweat off of her face as Knossos rose higher in the sky, the oppressive heat really cranking up as the range continued. Three more iterations, and then it was shower time.
Just another day in the Corps.
Petty Officer Sara Ryder was in her Clinic, putting on her Sirta Foundation's Phoenix Light Combat Armor when the sound of a blaring klaxon alarm interrupted her from putting on her right bracer to complete suiting up. The Corpsman stopped what she was doing as a flood of ice water filled her veins at the sound of the warbling siren echoed throughout Dig Site Alpha, recognizing it for what it was. She had never personally heard it herself, but knew of it. The last time that particular siren roared was back in '76, and before that in '70.
It was the Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarm; it was blaring the DefConOne Code.
Sara locked her bracer on her forearm as she grabbed her helmet and shoved it on, sealing her armor quickly as she clipped her M9 Kessler Pistol to her left hip and grabbed her M5 Stinger Submachine Gun with her right hand, extending it into combat operations as she activated her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire Omnitool and linked it with Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company's connectivity network, displaying her location as well as accessing its communications and encryptions as the Petty Officer rushed out of her Clinic and out into the hellish environment of Therum, the midday heat penetrating through her armor, making her feeling as if she were being cooked slowly on the inside of her Phoenix Armor. Ryder ignored the sensation as she turned towards the entrance of the Dig Site, already knowing what her duties and responsibilities would be; the assistance of security and evacuation of the civilians at the Dig Site. She didn't know if this were a scheduled drill or a surprise one, but the Corpsman took it just as seriously as the real deal.
Auntie told her that far too many didn't take it seriously enough on Elysium when the DefConOne Alarm rang over Illyeria back in 2176. Sara took that lesson to heart.
The Corpsman ran to the entrance of the Dig Site, opening the access door and punching in the emergency override code to bypass the decontamination process as both doors opened to the Complex, reaching the Dig Site's access panel and punching the evacuation alarm; the system wasn't linked to the CEBA, and it was possible that there could be members of the Expeditionary Team that were too far in or too deep to hear the general alarm. Like any other Systems Alliance facility, there was an evacuation route that was marked for such times if personnel didn't learn of it or had forgotten it. Sara keyed up her Omnitool, her Bluewire holographically displaying over her armor as she made sure that she was integrated with the Platoon Network, and saw that six IFF codes were heading towards the Dig Site; all Privates and Lance Corporals. Sara had been told the details of a Emergency Drill, and knew her role. She would be in charge of evacuation and the defense of the civilians while the rest of the Red Platoon would defend Dig Site Alpha itself, protecting the civilians, the evacuation, the shuttles, and the property inside. In addition to her role, she would have six Marines flexed to her to aid her in pushing civilians in the right direction; towards the shuttles, not towards their personal tents and belongings. The shuttles were twenty-five seat Asari-designed Shu'pari Personnel Transportation Craft, which could actually fit twenty-seven; twenty-five seatfillers, and two in the cockpit. That made for fifty-four in total out of a hundred and nine personnel in the Dig Site. Laps were going to be filled.
Telling a bunch of civilians that they were going to have to share? Ryder wasn't exactly looking forward to the bitching session on that one.
Sara was forced to wait for the six Marines to link up with her, which took a couple of minutes for them to make their way down the escarpment into the actual Dig Site, and then through the bowl before they reached her. Their IFF codes had identified them before the Petty Officer had even physically seen them, so she knew whom she was getting; Privates Louis Broussard, Mikael Holodansk, and Nathaniel Balsach, Private First Classes Holland Hoss and Oblong Ubantu, and Lance Corporal Hong Jeong. Sara knew them to be the newest and least-experienced Marines in Red Platoon, almost all of them having come out of Boot Camp within the past six months, with some of them obtaining rank through various efforts during their recruitment. They were all Night Shift, and Ryder knew them well enough, even their nicknames. It would be fun ordering a man around with the name of 'Blowjob', not to mention 'Lap Dance' and 'Ballsack'. Marines and their nicknames. The six Marines linked up with her in good time, each of them hustling to her position at the Dig Site's access door. They arrived fully armed and armored, holding their Hahne-Keder M7 Lancer Assault Rifles in hand while wearing their Aldrin Labs' Onyx Medium Interceptor Armor, complete with full helmets.
"K-Pop," Ryder looked Lance Corporal Jeong, "take Blowjob, Ballsack, and the Kenyan and bunker here behind the fortifications." Holodansk, Balsach, and Ubantu had been selected to stick with the Marine E-3. The main outcropping that contained the access door had a pair of fortification walls meant for cover in case of attack. "Keep the door open until whatever's attack pressures you inside. Then you bound inside, seal the door, shoot the locking mechanism, and then turn the access tunnel into a death trap." The corridor that lead down into the Dig Site was about twenty meters long, and was a circular tube. Four men could potentially hold off an army. "Keep in contact, and stay frosty." Jeong was the highest ranking individual after herself, and Sara knew that for the Marines, that meant he was second-in-command no matter how little experience he had. If Ryder put him in charge, that meant he acted under her authority. If she remembered correctly, Jeong came in as a Lance Corporal because when he was recruited, he pass the requirement score for the Physical Training test and referred another individual to enlist into the Systems Alliance Military.
"Aye aye, Doc." Lance Corporal Jeong replied as the four Marines took to cover, their Lancers up and over the protective barriers as they covered the entrance into the Dig Site bowl where several infrastructures existed.
"Bra, Lap Dance, with me." The Petty Officer ordered, looking at Private Broussard and Private First Class Hoss. "We get to babysit the civilians and make sure they head towards the rally point and not run off for trinkets or personal effects."
"Sir yessir!" Both Marines echoed as Sara turned down the tunnel that entered into the Dig Site Complex, heading underground with her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun cradled in her hands and held tightly to her chest as she led the way into the underground site with Broussard and Hoss right behind her. Sara wasn't actually looking forward to telling a hundred civilians that they would leave everything behind to reach an extraction point three kilometers away at a fast clip only to stuff themselves into two too-small unarmed shuttles. There would be arguments, and that would mean lost time. Lost time meant lost lives if the worst should happen. Thankfully, she had two armed Marines to help suggest that compliance was the preferred option. She didn't doubt that Professor Irissa T'vara would be on-board as well. She had been a former Commando Sister, after all. Any of the civilian grips and complaints would likely be smothered easily by the Professor's authority considering she was the Expeditionary Team Leader and could possibly ruin a career if one endangered others.
Ryder led her pair of Marines down into the Complex, exiting the tunnel and into the gigantic cavern in which the Dig Team had settled. Much to Sara's relief, it seemed that a vast majority had been congregated right into the middle of the camp, with wiser heads pooling their separate teams together for accountability purposes. That would make things a great deal easier than having to stop and locate every individual. Her responsibility was to evacuate the civilians; not most of them, but all of them.
"Professor T'vara?" The Petty Officer called out, quickly locating the Dean of Prothean Research of the University of Serrice amongst the rest of the Expedition from USerrice, thanks to her yellow centurymarks. "Has accountability been complete, Professor?"
"Yes, Chief Ryder." The Asari replied professionally. Thankfully, both of them were quite well aware that now was not the time for anything else but duty. "Every member of the Serrice Expedition is present and accounted for. Unfortunately…"
"I don't see one Human Being." Sara sighed as she took a quick look, and didn't find any of her own species. There were forty-one members in total; four Doctors, six Undergraduates, and thirty-one laborers. The Corpsman didn't see any of them. Just my fucking luck, Sara thought to herself. "Did anyone see where they might have possibly gone? Toward the extraction point, hopefully."
"Negative, ma'am." One of the Turian laborers coined, speaking up as he stepped forwards, a brown-plated laborer with Nimines Colony markings on his plates. "I came from that direction, and no one went down that way."
"Just fucking perfect." Ryder looked to her two Marines, who weren't thrilled with the thoughts that they were concluding as well. They would have to split up to lead the accounted team to the shuttles while someone else went and found the team that was currently in absentia. It was not a desirable scenario. Well, wait… Turian laborer, right there. Sara had been born on the Cit, and knew a good deal about Turian culture. Likely a good deal more than the common Human, and probably most in the military, too. "Reservists! Front and center!" Ryder used her 'big girl' voice, and wasn't surprised to see that about seventy percent of the Turian labor force stepped forward almost automatically, twelve in all. Well, things just got a little bit easier. "Highest-ranking individual in the meritocracy, please." Both Bra and Lap Dance were looking at her as if she had lost her damn mind as one older Turian stepped forward, his grayish plates displaying Taetrus Colony markings.
"Abadexus Linaseus, tenth-tier and former Active Duty Hastist Infantry." The Turian identified himself, and Ryder knew what that meant. Linaseus was an Infantryman, sent to contain and suppress whomever was the enemy at the time. The tactic Ad Bellum Hasti was the common military tactic the Hierarchy used to pacify a contested area; a surrender and a deadline was given, and any who opposed it after the time expired was obliterated. Humanity learned of the tactic on Shanxi, not knowing of it or even understanding the Turians at the time, the species simply known as 'Raptors'. Abadexus Linaseus was the very definition of Hierarchy muscle.
"Centurion, you and the Reservists," Sara nodded to the eleven other Turians, "will collect your personally-owned defensive weapons that I know you have in your possession, and you will lead the Serrice Team to the extraction point and provide far-side security. I will give you my Omnitool ID for communication purposes, and we will keep each other up-to-date. If you lose contact with me for more than ten minutes? Stuff the shuttles and pop to No'burg. There is an Alliance barracks and stronghold there, and they will let you in if you identify yourselves as a part of Dig Site Alpha's members. Any questions, Centurion?" Technically, a tenth-tier member would outrank Sara's Petty Officer (Third Class) rank, but as a member of Active Duty, she would get precedence as protection of the site was her duty, not his own.
"Enemy composition?" Linaseus asked, turning once to motion the identified Turians to head out, undoubtedly to collect their weapons. The standard issue was generally a Haliat Armory's KAL-25 Personal Defense Weapon, a civilian carbine battle rifle that was a little more powerful than a submachine gun, but not as much as the Hierarchy standard, the Devlon Industry's M-14 Raptor Assault Rifle. Sara had been living around Turians almost her entire life, and knew how their culture worked. Most everyone born in the Hierarchy served in the military starting at fifteen and served in Active Duty until thirty if they wished to advance in the meritocracy for he rest of their lives. Once out, going Reserves meant that each Turian would receive an annual stipend for their inactive service, as well as looking good for them for promotions both in employment and in the meritocracy. Usually, anywhere from seventy to eighty percent of all Turian civilians were Reservists, and Hierarchy Law stated that all Reservists must possess and maintain an effective weapon system to maintain their Reservist status. Sara was now fully exploiting that law, even though she wasn't in the Hierarchy Military, much less a Turian. Duty Unto Death was the motto of the Hierarchy Reserves, after all. Sara wasn't shocked at all when all of the Turians that identified themselves as Reservists pulled out and configured their personally-owned and Council Space-approved requisite firearms and held them in a ready combat stance. At the first sound of trouble, they had gone for their weapons, ready to fight and die for others as necessary. God bless Turian practicality.
"Unknown species, allegiance, numbers, weapons, or tactics." Ryder replied, having not received an update from Gunny Halverson. Chances were, someone in the Systems Alliance had been attacked or was under attack, and the general alert had been sounded because the attack had come as a surprise. The Skyllian Blitz had taught Humanity a great deal about modern warfare, especially multi-planetary attacks and actions thanks to 'private' forces that were magically not Batarian Hegemonists despite evidence of species, armor, weapons, ranks, and vessels. Therum was uncomfortably close to Hegemony Space, and that was Sara's first thought and concern. "If I get an update, I'll send you all that I know, but your main priority will be the safety and evacuation of the civilians here, Centurion. EST CAUSA! OFFICIUM AD MORTEM!"
"EST CAUSA! OFFICIUM AD MORTEM!" All twelve Turians responded automatically and enthusiastically, some of them a little surprised that Ryder had spoken in Common Palavenian, the main Turian dialect without aid of a translator. The fact that she knew the official mottoes of the Turian Hierarchy Active Services and the Hierarchy Reserves seemed to surprise them as well. For The Cause and Duty Unto Death, indeed.
"Carry on, Centurion." The Petty Officer nodded at Linaseus as she activated her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire Omnitool and toggled her communication ENIP Address to send to the Turian so that they could remain in contact. "Professor T'vara?"
"Chief Ryder." The Asari Matriarch took a slight step forward, standing in a respectful position for a Matriarch who would listen to another that was not her superior, Sara recognized; the Protheantologist's hands held behind her back in a position of respectful compliance. It might have been for the others of the Expeditionary Team to show that their boss was going to listen without argument, and that they should as well. That was good. Sara already had forty-one headaches to deal with.
"Please get your people directly to the extraction point. No deviations." Sara told the Dean of Prothean Research. "We have two shuttles that can seat fifty, and there are a hundred and nine sapients in the Dig Site." What Sara was really telling everyone was that there's no room for anything else but warm bodies. "No one gets left behind for anything." That was more for the benefit of those who thought sacrificing their seat for some object was a good idea. That would waste time and lives, and Ryder already had to expend that time looking for the Oxford Team. She knew how important this expedition was to the people here, but in times of emergency, people came first. Always. Her words were meant for the assembled team in case anyone had thoughts on scooting off to grab that one thing that would hold everyone up and get someone (or several someones) killed. Irissa was nodding, and Sara could see that the Asari understood. "And… be careful." That was as innocuous as Ryder could manage to say what she felt for the Protheantologist in front of sixty-eight non-Humans and two Marines.
"And you as well, Chief." The Professor gave her a courteous bow, returning the same meaning to her. "Everyone! Please proceed to the evacuation point at a good pace. No stragglers, and no detours." The Petty Officer watched as the Serrice Team began moving from the common area towards the pre-planned route towards the evacuation point, going down a flight of fabricated stairs to the lower depths of the Dig Site that would lead to a still-functional Prothean lift that would lead them to the other side of the volcano where the shuttles were located at the bottom of a mine shaft where the entrance was merely a vertical shaft, and thus next-to-impossible to gain entrance to the rear entrance. Irissa took the lead with Abadexus Linaseus right in step with her, the Reservists dispersed with the Serrice Team to make sure that everyone was following orders. Sara watched as the Asari Professor took to the stairs, giving one final glance to her before making the descent. A sharp ache pierced Ryder's heart at the sight, but she was glad that Irissa T'vara would be making her way to safety. She had a job to do, and not having that nagging voice or worry would help her perform.
God she hoped that this was just a drill.
Petty Officer Sara Ryder, accompanied by Private Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard and Private First Class Holland 'Lap Dance' Hoss, moved through the Dig Site, heading from the main portion of the camp inside the massive cavern in which the Dig Site's Expeditionary Team worked from, towards the living quarters portion that was mostly sequestered in the rear portion of the camp. The initial brief for the members of both the Serrice Team and the Oxford Team had defined what to do in emergency situations, and the forty-one members from Oxford University had been told to meet in the center of the camp, where Sara had found the Serrice Team. Perhaps they might be hiding in the tents meant for human habitation. That's what she was hoping for, at least.
"Lap Dance? Bra? Check the first and second tents while I'll go look in the research tent." Ryder ordered the two Privates, pointing out the habitation tents for Broussard and Hoss, neither one of them likely to have even been into the actual Dig Site themselves. She also pointed out what tent she would be looking in, just in case. "Holler out if you locate anyone."
"Aye aye, Doc." Hoss replied as the PFC and the Private went towards the tents she had identified as Sara moved to the left where the Oxford research tent was. She had her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun magnetically locked to the chestpiece of her Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Armor, having it ready but not out. She didn't think she would be needing it for the moment being as she did a quick text-check with Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson, notifying him of the situation with an update. She did the same with Centurion Reservist Abadexus Linaseus just to touch base. She had known dozens like the former Centurion, good-Spirited Turians who were the quiet working-class heroes in which politics and current trends weren't a part of a routine, just a citizen maintaining a family and a life. She didn't know him, but she knew she could trust him to do the right thing, that sort of mentality born-and-bred into the Sons and Daughters of Palaven. Having him and the Reservists around would be a real boon, especially if things went downhill.
Sara entered the research tent for the Oxford Team, popping her head in at first to see that it was bereft of life, not a soul to be seen. Ryder frowned for a moment, wondering if the personnel had sequestered themselves elsewhere. There were decent hiding spots for such things, as Sara had done a little exploring on each visit to the Dig Site, having seen a few key locations where one could do just that. If they weren't in the research tent or in the personnel tents, then finding them just became a good deal more difficult. There was literally dozens of locations one could stack fifty Human Beings with the thought of bunkering down. They wouldn't have food or water, but if they thought this was merely an hour or two ordeal, Sara could see a group moving to do just that.
"Anything?" Ryder asked as she left the research tent, fining Broussard and Hoss exiting the personnel tents, both Privates answering in the negative. "Well, fuck. Our lives just got complicated. Now we need to figure our where forty-one people went and stashed themselves in an emergency as oppose to the right and proper location, which is where we found the Serrice Team." Sara was about to ask for ideas when she came up with one herself. No… don't let that be true. She really hoped that she was wrong. "Let's head over to the Serrice side of the camp and take a look at their tents. You know, just in case." That wasn't what Ryder was thinking, but she wasn't about to voice her opinion in case she was wrong. But in the time of emergencies, there were people who took advantage of it.
Opportunity.
The Petty Officer led herself and the two Marines towards the opposite side of the camp, where the University of Serrice personnel were sequestered. Due to their numbers and different species, there were more tents, both for habitation and research. Sara had visited it a number of times, including that first day when she had went to Professor Irissa T'vara's tent, what she now knew to be the Expeditionary Lead's Administrative Tent. Sara knew this portion of the camp well, knowing which personnel tent were for which species, and which research tents were for which departments. It only took a couple of minutes for her to lead the Privates to the Serrice side of the camp, artfully sequestered apart from the Oxford side due to some species tensions between the Humans and everyone else. Sara knew why, and it hadn't been the non-Humans who had created or forced the issue. So much for interspecies cooperation in more-advanced endeavors.
"The Paleontechnology tent." Sara pointed out to the tent in which the Paleotechnology Department worked from, separate from the Paleosociology and Xenoarcheology tents. If she were right (and Sara had a sinking feeling that she might be), that would be the first place to look. Please be wrong, Sara thought to herself as she pushed through the magnetic-lock curtain of the entrance.
The tent was occupied.
Ryder entered the tent along with Broussard and Hoss to find what appeared to be a mass-majority of the Oxford Team inside the Serrice Team's Paleontechnology Tent. It was obvious what was going on; looting. Members of the Oxford Team were rifling through lockers and shelving units while others were engaging terminals for data, and Sara felt her blood run cold as anger swelled within her. One of the most-respected colleges on Earth, its members venerated and respected throughout Alliance Space, reduced to larceny. The implications of it were beyond ugly.
"A-HEM!" Sara mock-cleared her throat loudly enough for everyone in the tent to turn their attention to her as Sara drew her Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Combat Pistol with her left hand, extending it into combat operations as both Privates followed her example without question or order, drawing and extending their M7 Lancers and holding them at the low-ready, ready to engage upon her word. "Looting in the time of emergencies and crisis comes with a severe penalty. Gunfire, usually." No capture, no investigation, no trial, and no defense, she didn't add. No recriminations on those who were to maintain law and order, either. Most everyone had stopped what they were doing, the rifling of effects ceased and inputting of terminals halted as she held everyone's attention as she held her Kessler in a two-handed grip, pointing it in the general direction of the group. "Cease and desist what you are doing immediately, empty all pockets and drop all items onto the nearest table, and proceed to the evacuation point post-haste."
"Bah!" Doctor Richard Sanders, Lead Protheantologist and Paleontologist for the University of Oxford replied, the fifty-something year old man waving off the threat as if… she were some pesky interruption. "Continue searching. I know the aliens aren't sharing like they should." Actually, Sara and Irissa had a conversation about that a few nights before. Evidently, Oxford had been cagey about sharing the whole time, and seeing how the team from Earth acted amongst the non-Humans, Sara likely concluded that the Oxford team didn't want to share in their findings and research, and thus got a reciprocal response. But what was going on now was dangerous, much more so than just looting and pilfering during a time of crisis. "Ignore the little girl and continue…"
KA-BAM!
The gunshot from Ryder's pistol shocked everyone into stillness as she shot out the display unit that Doctor Sanders had been working on, the holographic screen and its corresponding Haptic keyboard disappearing with the imaging unit's destruction. She had their attention before, but she certainly had their undivided attention now. Before, she was a nuisance, some thug. Now she was a threat, and an active one.
"Little girl?" Ryder said in a tone that was pure venom, getting Hoss to whistle once, as if to say you fucked up now, boy. "A man educated at some of the finest institutions in Alliance Space, a tenured Doctor at the most prestigious University on Earth, reduced to robbery. And you call me a little girl?" Her eyes bored right towards the Doctor in question, who looked at her with a scowl, as if she were the one making a mistake. Either he had no idea, or thought he would get away with it. Either way, what he did would have repercussions. "I'll say this again; cease and desist, empty all pockets, and proceed to the evacuation point." Sara had a sad feeling things would be going downhill quickly. No one was taking her seriously, nor the two Marines that stood to either side of her with assault rifles ready to go.
"You don't understand, you simple-minded thug!" The Doctor exclaimed, his voice angry as he insulted her. No one else was moving, either for more pilfering or to empty their pockets. It was a tennis match now, and everyone wanted to see who was the one left swinging empty air. "I'm trying to make humanity great…"
"Except I'm about to fuck your shit up. How's that for great?" Sara's tone didn't lose its venom as she pointed the pistol right at the Doctor. "Don't fucking belittle me with false self-righteousness, Doctor. This isn't about humanity. It's about greed; your greed."
"What would you know, you backwater little bitch?" The old man shouted, anger filling his tone as he took a step forward. "You are better off scraping for crops off some mudball colony…"
The next gunshot was just short and to the left of his forward foot, making Doctor Sanders jump up about half-a-meter in shock.
"Actually, I graduated at the Presidium Academy of Education on the Citadel, ranked fifth in my year." Sara smiled, though there was no warmth to it. "Being the daughter of a diplomat has its perks. Like how to treat people with respect and an education in galactic history, which so happens to include what happens to governments when discovered that they are hording or stealing Prothean research or technology." Broussard shifted slightly next to her, as if in shock but without trying to be apparent about it.
"See," Sara continued as she walked forward slowly, "you thought you'd come in here and get your grubby little hands on whatever you wished and stuff it somewhere for later retrieval when everything dies down. You'd probably send the tidbits and the socio-economical research off to Oxford because too many people are here for this to truly remain quiet, and you'd have to hand them something. But the big stuff? That you'll likely sell to corporations and the black market for a pretty Cred, and I bet you're the kind of asshole who doesn't share, giving everyone a stipend while you horde the pie to yourself. Because who amongst the undergrads and the laborers would know what you've got when you take the research yourself and proclaim what you have with rose-tinted glasses?"
The tent was silent enough to hear atoms collide.
"But you've only figured out half the operation. Let me tell you the other half." Sara continued as she stepped forward, getting closer to the Doctor, who had the good sense to say nothing. "The Serrice Team comes back with their shit looted and plundered. Know what happens then?" The Petty Officer's voice was pure iridium. "They call the University Board. Who calls the Asari Republic of City-States. Who then call the Citadel Council of Law, who governs over the laws of Prothean research distribution and advancement. Know what happens then, motherfucker?
"Sanctions. Reparations. A few disputes that will cost thousands of lives and billions of Credits."
Several people in the Oxford Team shifted with that.
"So go ahead! Steal! Loot to your heart's content!" Sara kept her pistol aimed right at the Lead Doctor, her aim never shifting as she moved in closer, as if stalking prey. "I bet you're the kind of asshole that's going to cash out and live on some Class I colony with the near-Earth conditions where everyday's a beach while the rest of Humanity takes a black eye. You won't even think twice forgetting those who are now your accomplices in this crime, arrested and tried by the Alliance to keep the Council happy due to your actions. You bitch and whine about how aliens are out to get us, but in the end you're in it for yourself. Know how I know?" Sara smiled as she took her right hand and pointed to the nearest laborer, a man dressed in a heavy-duty work jumpsuit colored in Pantone, generally known as Oxford Blue. "What's his name?"
Doctor Richard Sanders looked to the man in question, and then back at her. He obviously had no idea.
"It's Jonathan. Jonathan Price, from the Canadian Federal Territory of the United North American States." Sara answered, impressing the man and earning a scowl from the Doctor. "Tell me something, Mister Price. What's worth more to you right now? The rock samples you're looking through, or your two daughters back in Toronto?" She knew this information thanks to the man's medical records, almost none of the Oxford Team having ever spoken to her, either due to their own decisions or pressure from the others. The laborer looked at the samples that he had been stuffing into a bag, and then to the Corpsman.
"My kids." Jonathan, bless his heart, made up his mind. He set the bag down, and even dumped out his pockets before moving away from the shelving unit, heading to a nearby corner where he made his position known. Everyone in the tent save for Sara and the Marines watched the laborer cross the line, so to speak.
"Anyone else rather spend time with their family as oppose to a jail cell or a pine box?" The laborers and undergrads were looking at one another, the gears turning in their minds as several more stopped what they were doing and followed Jonathan Price's example, stopping in what they did, dropping their accrued possessions where they were and joined the Canadian laborer, swelling their ranks to twenty-four, more than half of the Oxford Team. That prompted more to join the growing group of those who wished to comply, like sheep following the herd. Those ones only followed because the population was greater than fifty percent, fence-sitters to the tee. That saddened Sara a bit, knowing that most would go along with popularity due to herd mentality. It was something that she had dealt with in the part on the Citadel, with Humans who visited the station and acted as if someone who permanently live there was something akin to a traitor thanks to popular opinion on Earth and her colonies. Soon, all that was left as Doctor Richard Sanders, still standing where he had been when she found him, in front of the shot terminal display unit he had been working on. "What's it going to be, Doctor? Are you a man of principle and intellect, or are you going to continue standing there like an idiot?"
"When I get back to Earth…" The Doctor began, but Sara wasn't going to have any of it.
"Don't care." She jerked her head towards the group standing to one side of her and her pair of Marines. "Now dump the pockets and go sulk with the rest of the group, Doctor Sanders." The Department Lead complied, but with eyes flashing in anger. Ryder didn't doubt he would try to make good on his threat.
Unfortunately for him, she had recorded everything thanks to her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool's record option.
Petty Officer Sara Ryder lead the Oxford Team to the extraction point, having updated both Centurion Abadexus Linaseus of their marching status as well as Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson of the complete situation. It had been almost thirty-five minutes since the activation of the DefConOne Alarm, some of that time spent searching for the Humans and having to argue for them to comply with the evacuation. It only took fifteen minutes to lead the contingent of Humans down the fabricated staircase that reached the lower levels of the Dig Site and towards a security palisade that existed during the Prothean Era that lead towards a still-working lift that would reach another level where the extraction point could be reached. The march was a quiet one, thankfully, though Sara was dealt more than a few ugly looks from several members of the Oxford Team, mostly from two Doctors and two undergrads, whom she noted who they were. When this ordeal was over and excavation could continue because Therum wasn't under threat, Sara didn't doubt she would have difficulties afterwards. Well, between a platoon of Marines and Professor Irissa T'vara, she would have allies if she needed.
At the moment, there hadn't been any updates on why the alarm had been raised, nor any guesses to the cause. Likely, there wouldn't be any for at least a day. Perhaps more.
The evacuation point was not much more than another cavern but for one difference; through the ceiling was a hole in the bedrock large enough to pass an Armali Flight Shu'pris-'75 Cargo Transportation Vessel through. From the surface, it was barely noticeable amist the jagged landscape, and from the air, it looked like a sinkhole. Gunny Halverson had chosen it for an evacuation route, and it was well-picked. No access from the surface, and no time for ground forces to prepare to shoot down the shuttles as the left, able to fly out and immediately to its destinations of safety. The sixty-eight members of the Serrice Team were already at the evacuation point, most of the members sequestered into the shuttles already for a place to sit. The twelve Reservist members were providing local security, surrounding the shuttles to protect them and the civilians as Sara entered evacuation cavern with her Marines and the forty-one members of the Oxford Team. There had been some grumbles from some of the Human members as they saw twelve armed Turians protecting the site. Evidently, some of them could put two and two together.
"Centurion? We've got full accountability of everyone at the evac point." Sara told Abadexus Linaseus as he approached her, still wearing his laborer robes but holding a KAL-25 in his talons with competency. She said it in a loud enough voice that many would hear her without acting as if she were announcing it. "I'll need to talk to you and the Professor. Discretely." That last bit came out in a hushed tone, Sara knowing that Turian hear was better than Humans due to their ear canals being lined to their fringes, able to sense audio vibrations at better frequencies and at lower decibels. Neither one of them were going to enjoy hearing what she had to say, but it was going to have to happen. The only way to avoid a worse scenario was to make sure that it was all out in the open, to exonerate as many of the Oxford Team as she could from possible future implications and charges if necessary. If Sara showed that there was nothing to hide, the severity of it would be lessened. "Bra? Lap Dance? Have the Oxford Team join the Serrice Team, and then take position at the evac point entrance for near-side security." Both Marines nodded their compliance as most of the Humans got the point and headed towards the shuttles, though some did so reluctantly. The Turian Reservists, for their part, merely watched silently, but seeing everything as Private First Class Holland Hoss and Private Louis Broussard moved towards the catwalk that they had taken to reach the evacuation cavern. What she hadn't said out loud was that she didn't want some of the Humans from the Oxford Team making false promises or poisoned words to her Marines, getting them involved. She didn't doubt none of the Human would try to subvert an armed Turian. But from a normal point-of-view, everything looked as it should be.
"You wished to speak to us?" Professor Irissa T'vara said after reaching where Sara and Abadexus stood, a dozen meters away from the outer perimeter ring where the Turians were providing three-hundred and sixty degree security. The Turian seemed amused that he was being included, but he was wisely silent. Even he could tell that Sara was unusual for her kind, and was giving her the benefit of the doubt. Strangely enough, Sara actually had an easier time with most Turians than she did most Humans.
"I've got something to tell you. You're not going to like it, and it's going to be a shitstorm round of bad news." Sara began, sighing as she smoothed her brunette hair back out of necessity, not relishing what she was about to get into.
"Is it war?" The Asari went to the worst-case scenario, thinking of the alert. Actually, that might not have been so bad.
"No, almost as bad though. Found the Oxford Team in your Paleontechnology Tent, though." Ryder told the Professor, whose face immediately went violet with anger. "Stopped them before they could make a real hash of things, but they were most certainly searching through artifacts, papers, and terminals. One display unit was destroyed, and that was my fault. You'll be walking into a mess and a great deal of accusations and stress. Couldn't do a proper search, not with three of us. Linaseus, I'm going to need your help with that one, mostly having your Reservists to keep the Humans from trying to trade or pass off objects, and to keep the Serrice Team from getting too close, no matter how right they would be to do so. This is seventeen shades of ugly, and I'd like to keep it as professional and as proper as possible. This isn't the kind of thing worth dying or killing for."
"You'll have our help. Chief." The nod in his head told Sara that she had earned his respect. "We can make smaller groups for easier containment. Who will do the searching?"
"Mixed, for compliance, accountability, and to dissuade any improper accusations." The Petty Officer replied, doing her best to come up with a solution for the scenario by looking at it from as many angles as possible. There wasn't going to be a 'good' answer, but she could come up with a reasonable one. If this event had happened with just Humans in a Systems Alliance setting, this would end up in a Judicial Tribunal, in which wasn't the strongest point in Sara's arsenal of knowledge. On the other hand, being that more than half of the civilians were foreign citizens of sovereign states allowed to be in Alliance Space, not to mentioned sponsored by one of the most prestigious schools in the galaxy, it wouldn't be a Systems Alliance matter, but a Council of Law matter. In that, Sara Ryder knew the rules. Trying to act as diplomatically and as unbiased as possible was the best possible way to deal with this situation. "We can have three teams of searchers while we wait; three Turians, and three Humans. We switch up who watches and searches so no one is falsely accused, and have videographical evidence for proper procedures. That'll be fourteen people for two teams, and thirteen for one. Professor? I need you to be a compliance monitor, since you are the Lead of the Expedition. I've already had issues with authority, so having as many eyes during the search will be beneficial to us all, especially if someone is smuggling something they should have put back when given the chance. Plus you can collect any items located for safekeeping and return."
"What are the rules of larceny amongst the Systems Alliance?" The Dean asked, her voice cool and without emotion. Sara knew that the anger was there, just held in check. She completely understood; Ryder was plenty pissed herself for being put in this situation.
"Without going every jurisdiction? It is commonly accept that 'theft' means vacating the premise of one's own free will with an item not their own." Sara wasn't a legal expert, but the definition was pretty true-to-form. It was different than on the Citadel, in which pocketing an item with the intent to steal was considered larceny. "I gave them the chance to hand over any and all items before leaving, and they left the Paleontechnology Tent. That will be considered theft in just about any jurisdiction we can think of, and will grant a conviction in a court of law unless you got the Creds for a really good lawyer." Only the Doctors would be able to pull that kind of money, and likely two of them were the ringleaders of the attempt, if the glances Sara was getting from Doctor Richard Sanders and Doctor Melissa Hildebrand. The rest might beg off with lesser sentences by stating that their jobs and careers were threatened by singing to the cops and burying the Doctors. No two ways about it, no one was walking away clean from this one if pressed. The thought of avalanching her fellow Humans didn't bring any joy to Sara at all, but what would have happened if they did steal and were accused of it was so much worse. "No lie, this will be ugly. I'll probably have it worse than they will." She looked to the Turian and the Asari standing before her, and she saw they both got it, and understood why.
"I believe I've overheard that two of my team are former Hierarchy Municipal Police, so they will be good for a search and detainment if necessary." Abadexus replied after a long moment, obviously mulling it over. Hierarchy Municipal Police were something in between Civil and Military Law Enforcement for the Hierarchy, like the Military Police of the Systems Alliance. "There is another who was a part of the Safety Compliance Corps, meaning he would have checked anyone for smuggling contraband onto vessels or smuggling items off of vessels. That one will work as well. Having two sets of species working to overwatch one another will avoid some of the obvious issues, but create others. Still, it is a wise decision. I will get the necessary people ready and have the others keep an eye on the groups for fraternization and collusion."
"Having half a dozen leering Turians will get them rather compliant, especially if they're armed Turians." Sara replied dryly. She wondered how many of the Oxford Team had ever seen a Turian before the Dig Site outside of a vid or a news report. That had Linaseus' mandibles widen with a grin. Someone was going to enjoy themselves leering at the Humans. "Divide them into three groups, and let's get this situation under control. We still have no idea what raised the DefConOne Alarm, but we need to move as if we might be under threat."
"Understood." The Turian… saluted her. Seriously, Sara was just as shocked as Abadexus was, doing a double-take at the action, but not apologizing for it either. The Reservist moved back to the shuttle and began issuing orders; her orders. Ryder looked to Professor T'vara, who was looking at her with a hint of amusement. Only twenty-five years prior, Turians and Humans had been embroiled in warfare. Now a Human was ordering Turians about, working together. Of course, that was on top of the fact that a bunch of Humans tried to steal the intellectual property and findings of several non-Human beings. That was a shit sandwich served as a three course meal.
"Irissa? I'm sorry my kind tried to loot your findings and research." Sara looked to the Asari, wishing she could get closer. There were too many eyes around, sadly. She couldn't say what she wanted to say. That she hoped this didn't affect their relationship, got in between them. She had worked too long and too hard to get where she was at now to merely toss it aside, but it was so nice to be able to share her efforts and accomplishments with, to someone whom such things mattered.
"You stopped them, and you are working to make sure the proper items are returned." The Dean of Prothean Research and Study of the University of Serrice replied, her face going softer. The Corpsman could tell that Irissa wished to do the same, to get closer. Whatever happened, the Professor wasn't going to hold it against her. That… had Sara relieved. She rather enjoyed what they had going on between them, and life was getting complicated enough without adding drama into it. She hadn't betrayed her kind for the love and affection of a member of another species, though some or most Humans would likely accuse her of such if they knew the truth of her relationship. No, the Oxford Team were looting their competition, and Sara would have acted in the same manner if everyone had been Human.
"I just hope that whatever's going on out there," Sara told the Asari, jerking her head up slightly to indicate the stars, and whatever had set off the DefConOne Alarm, "I hope they are doing better than we."
Author's Notes: Most include the nominal disclaimer of 'I don't own this shit, BioWare!' but I dropped a hint at the disclaimer point as to the point of this chapter with a quote from Captain David Anderson, "Reverse and hold at 38.5" to signify exactly what day this would be; the start of Mass Effect.
Consequently, the date of this chapter is June 6, the 'go-date' for Operation: Overlord; what everyone remembers as D-Day. This wasn't by accident, as the assault that began the Liberation of France was the largest sea invasion, was done in-near secrecy (the Germans knew 'of' it, but not the time or location), and probably still represents the largest multi-national collaboration over the widest area. The operation was in development for a year (following the disaster of the Invasion of Dunkirk), trained upon for months, and surprisingly the British lost more men in training than in the landings of Sword and Gold beach. Omaha and Utah were the American's responsibility, while the Canadians had Juno. The deception plan (Bodyguard), the bombing campaign (Pointblank) the airborne operation (Tonga), the seaborne invasion (Neptune), the misinformation campaign (Fortitude), and the tinfoil drops (Taxable) all helped to serve the landings. Surprisingly, not one objective was achieved on June 6, making D-Day a sort of strange, successful disaster were everything didn't go according to plan but the operation ended with where the Allies wanted to be; a beachhead on France. We all know what happened afterwards.
June 6th will be the Eden Prime Invasion, and likely there will be similarities between 6/6/2183 and 6/6/1945, both with the Geth and the Alliance. This, after all, will be war.
I do express the common view of military personnel on USDOD Civilians, some of it was my own. There are good, hard-working DOD employees. I just sadly didn't meet many.
I know that you probably think the Marine nicknames come from Stanley Kubrik's 'Full Metal Jacket'. Actually, nicknames have been going on for decades before that movie, probably back when we were still riding horses with long sharp sticks to impale the other guy. Every nickname I used is from a member of one of my former units in the Army. Yes, I had a 'Lap Dance' and a 'Blow Job', as well as other rather ridiculous nicknames in my various platoons. Mine? 'Jersey'. And no, I'm not from either Jersey, England, or the state of New Jersey. It was my nickname from Basic from a Drill Sergeant who called me that because I reminded him of someone from New Jersey. Go figure. At least it wasn't something derogatory.
Mass Effect Canon does state that some 70% of Turians are associated through the Hierarchy, which is somewhere between a militant empire and a junta. If you look at old European royalty pre-WWI, you would see that practically all the Kings and Princes would hold court in full military uniform. So I created the Active Duty/Reservist concept that one sees in Israel and likely in North Korea as well.
In keeping up with the original Mass Effect game, I kept some of the manufacturers and weapons from that game. Haliat Armory is a smaller arms manufacturer that the Turian Hierarchy allows to sell surplus non-military grade weaponry to the civilian markets. Devlon Industry didn't come with a species-specific tag (like Sirta Foundation is a Human-created company), and the Raptor Assault Rifle is one of their weapons, a mid-grade weapon with good damage, shots before overheat, and accuracy. This will be the standard infantry rifle for the Turian Hierarchy.
The Haliat Armory's KAL-25 Personal Defense Weapon is one of my own creation. In Where The Law Stands Tall, I made weapons that actually came in calibers (instead of flecks of metal) because that's what we think of when humans get guns. I will go the same route here. Pistols will be 2.5 to 5 gram weapons. Military grade rifles will fire 7.5 to 10 gram rounds. Submachine Guns will be pistol calibers, while Heavy Pistols will be in the 5 to 7.5 gram range. Shotguns will fire 20 to 30 gram shots that are divided by the number of pellets (more on this later) while sniper rifles will be in the 7.5 to 25 gram range, depending on its purpose. The KAL is based off the Colt Commando, a short-barreled AR-15 platform that can be necked into firing many pistol rounds, making it something in between a Ranch hand/Cattleman (pistol round-firing rifle) and a lightweight assault rifle safe enough to fire inside a house for defensive purposes. Cops used .38's and 9mm's for a long time because of the unlikelihood of the round penetrating drywall/insulation/drywall and being lethal/collateral damage. Ever wondered why cops don't carry .45's or Dirty Harry's? That's why.
I had to insert some pop culture and a line or two from the Mass Effect Series. Doctor Richard Sanders seriously spouts President Donal Trump's election campaign tagline (Make America Great Again!) while Sara Ryder gets to use the best quote from Andromeda where one of the Ryders gets to tell the Cardinal how they really feel while on Voeld. How's that for great? :-D
In Mass Effect Canon, Canada, the US, and Mexico are a conglomerated region known as the United North American States. I do not know if this is similar to the European Union in which is several national governments represented in a gubernational committee, or if it is ran by a singular governmental body. And… I don't actually know the official name for Canada. It's a Federation with its own royalty that can be superseded by Queen Elizabeth II, and is like… 99% free from England? I think that still makes it a Dominion, perhaps like Australia?
DefConOne - You see this in movies, and the DefCon codes do exist for the USGOV. Defense Condition One means 'attack imminent' or 'attack underway'. The numbers go from One through Five, in which Five (unlikely) is the least. We generally live in DefConFour (suspected) thanks to the threat of nuclear weapons and terrorism.
In case you hadn't realized, the DefConOne Alarm is in response to an attack only a few clusters away. This POV (an attack but somewhere else) is something most of us Americans (and English) would know thanks to various terrorist attacks. I still remember the hysteria of 9/11, the not knowing, the hushed whispers, the panicked anger, the power of rumor. I wanted a little light of the attack on Eden Prime to be from another direction, where no one knows yet, but something is happening. Yes, you know what's happening, but the characters do not. The next chapter will be a September 12th-like chapter (and I hadn't forgotten that day either, as I'm sure the Greatest Generation remembered December 7th and December 8th quite well, the 'where were you?' and 'what did you do?').
'Oxford Blue' is an actual shade of blue in the azure range, making it a dark blue. It is the 'official' color of the Oxford Boat Team (their chief sport), and is used by other colleges as well, such as the University of Michigan, Penn State, UCal(Berkeley), and Georgetown. Fellows at Oxford, athletes (mind you, Cricket, Rugby, Rowing, and Polo are their big sports, as Baseball, Basketball, and American Football are not popular sports in England at all), and the 'dress' blazer are all of this color. So as a work uniform for a University of Oxford laborer, I went with the school colors.
Yes, looters during times of emergency get shot on sight. No, this isn't heavy-handed for the reasons I explained.