Edit: Forgot section dividers, may have caused confusion among readers. Hopefully that is now fixed.

Author's Note:

Hey, all, and welcome to the eighth chapter of The Inheritance of Man. Hope I didn't keep you guys waiting too long.

A few things of note, before we begin:

So, I've felt that recently, the story has a had a lot of action and explosions, but not enough exposition; not enough character development, not enough story, you get the point. Right now, I feel as if my characters are cardboard cutouts that we don't give a damn about. So, while this chapter is all action, I plan to fix that.

So, the gameplan is to have this chapter go through the Battle of New Mojave, in its entirety. The next few chapters, however, will be mainly exposition, character development, and plot-development. They'll be split between which "area" of the story the characters are in-one chapter for those in Battlegroup Autumn, the other for the 15th Fleet, etc. etc. Hopefully these next few filler chapters won't be too boring, because I aim to make you guys actually give a damn about the characters.

Now, on to the story, without any delays!

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the UER.

Ambassador Donnel Udina looked up towards the Councilors, his face completely blank as he analyzed the current situation. Three councilors—one for the asari, another for the salarians, and the last for the turians. They were perched high, behind a large desk akin to that of a court judge. The arrangement itself made Udina feel as if it was meant to portray a sense of elitism, of a "holier-than-thou" attitude.

Of course, that was likely, as these three were figures of extreme authority, responsible for the greatest of the Citadel's interspecies relationships. No wonder they wanted to give a sense of greatness. And thus, Udina proceeded to steel himself, ready for the diplomacy.

"Ambassador Udina. Welcome, to the Citadel." Udina merely nodded, not feeling the need to say anything.

The asari councilor spoke first, possibly proclaiming some seniority within the group. "Ambassador, you represent humanity and the United Earth Republic, yes?"

"Indeed I do, Councilor. The United Earth Republic has seen fit to send me to engage officially in diplomatic ventures. Treaties, alliances, trade agreements, and others are expected to be discussed, as well as the…" Udina paused for a second, accenting the severity of his next statement. "The ongoing war."

"Yes, the war," The turian councilor responded, sighing. "I expect that the war is the matter of greatest importance."

Udina nodded towards the turian. "Yes, the war itself, and humanity's involvement in it, is of critical importance. Other matters can wait."

"Ambassador, what exactly does the UER intend to do about the war?"

"Councilor… Tevos? The United Earth Republic fully intends to respond to the batarian and krogan's attack with full force. We have already begun measures to declare a state of total war against them, and our forces are already mobilized."

Tevos nodded, as if somewhat satisfied by his answer, and a tad relieved. She looked briefly at the other two councilors, who nodded. "Ambassador Udina, in light of this new situation, the Citadel Council would like to offer an alliance, between the Citadel and the United Earth Republic. We could all use some allies in this war—the Citadel is hard pressed to survive it."

"That is to be discussed, but I expect my superiors will enjoy some sort of alliance. What exactly is the current state of the war?"

"I'll be frank, ambassador—it's not good. The krogan were enough to challenge us alone, but with the batarians, we've been fighting a two-front war," the turian councilor said. "We've lost several planets already, and our forces are spread thin. The latest battle we're fighting is on Digeris, a turian colony, and we're running desperate defensive campaigns on Cyone and reclamation maneuvers on Invictus. If the UER could relieve one front, most likely the batarian front, then it would help us immensely"

Udina simply nodded, agreeing with the simple plan. It was the start of a relationship with the Citadel—possibly a lead into an even greater one, yet it was good. Verbalizing his agreement with the turian councilor, Udina proceeded to delve into the more intimate aspects of diplomacy.

"Helm, what's our ETA to the Hydra System?" Captain Hans Shepard crossed his hands behind his back, staring directly ahead at his main tactical view.

"Five mikes, sir!"

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Comms, start sending out hails to any UER vessels at our destination. We need as much intelligence as we can get."

"Aye aye, Captain."

Hans simply grinned, satisfied at his crew's promptness. Though the UER Navy was full of dedicated individuals, he was definitely happy at the fact that the RNS Crusader's crew was, in his point of view, amongst the best of them all. However, a few seconds after the Crusader's communications officer sent out the hails, a set of red lights appeared in front of Hans. Emergency signals.

"Comms, open those signals immediately!"

Lieutenant Hadley promptly cleared the signals, allowing the entirety of the bridge to hear the transmissions. "Unknown UER vessel, this is the RNS Rider! Do you read?"

Hans immediately stood at attention, his mind cleared of any thoughts besides action. "Hadley, get me a line to that ship now!"

"Done, sir!"

Shepard nodded, clearing his throat before he spoke. "RNS Rider, this is the RNS Crusader, we read you. What's your situation?"

"Oh, thank god, Shepard." The voice sounded relieved, as if a heavy weight was suddenly lifted from its shoulders. "Comm buoys are down, we weren't able to get out any messages. Divert your FTL course immediately, hit the edge of the Hydra System if you're able to. Hostile batarian vessels have landed troops on New Mojave!"

"What's your remaining strength, Rider?"

"Four vessels—two light cruisers, Rider's one of them, and two destroyers. Everyone else is dead!"

Hans frowned, unhappy at the prospect of dead humans. "Do you have any intel on the situation on New Mojave itself? Civilians, the governor, anything?"

The voice hesitated for a moment, as if catching its breath, before continuing. "Batarian fuckers only landed troops about twenty minutes ago, they can't have had enough time to dig in or round up civilians. Last I heard, Governor Montoya and his council are being held hostage in the Capitol."

"Acknowledged, Rider. Our ETA is one mike, we'll be there in a few. What's the enemy troop strength?"

"They've got six ships left, all around corvette to light cruiser weight. We gave 'em a hell of a beating before they drove us off."

"Copy that. RNS Rider, standby for our arrival, we'll take care of things. You get your men rested and resupplied. Crusader out." With that, the transmission closed, leaving Hans once more in the relative silence of the bridge. He turned to the side, gesturing for another man. "Commander Molina!"

"Sir!" The young XO saluted Hans, ready for orders.

"Make sure Colonel Capet's marines are ready for a hot drop onto New Mojave—M79 Cuirassier OEIFVs. Get all of the senior Marine officers in briefing with me, we'll be going over our game plan once we hit sublight speeds."

"Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?"

"Yes, relay the orders through the rest of the Battlegroup. This'll be our first major engagement after Antioch."

Commander Molina nodded, saluting Hans before walking away, datapad in his hands. Hans shook his head, groaning inside, before making his way towards the elevator.

Hopefully we don't fuck this up…

Lieutenant Victor Evans looked forwards, matching the movement of the rest of the 36 SAD troopers with him in the large briefing room. A stoutly man, his dress uniform gilded in gold and red trim, stood in the middle, his hands atop a table that glowed an eerie blue. Colonel Price - the commanding officer of the resident SPECWARCOM teams - was the man's name, and he gave off a certain aura of fearless courage and the need for respect. An experienced man—one that Victor could admire.

"Special Assault, Light Assault Recon, Bravo Cadre. You all know what you're here for, what you've trained for." The man paused for effect. "This will be our first mission in this new war."

"New Mojave, men, is a critical colony on the fringe of UER space. It's a large communications epicenter, handling most of the comm relays and buoys on this side of the UER's territory. We lose this planet, and the UER will have a very… very, bad day." Colonel Price looked out towards his men, narrowing his eyes. "Therefore, it is imperative that we do not lose this colony! So, while the marines are dropping on the planet in their IFVs, you men, of the United Earth Republic Special Warfare Command, will have a very special role in the liberation of New Mojave."

Colonel Price first gestured to a set of marines in one corner of the room, clad in medium armor with reinforced jet packs on their backs. "11th Light Reconnaissance! Your job is to handle the rooftops. New Mojave's capital city, and only city, New Vegas, is a hive of casinos and skyscrapers. Scout out the rooftops, and hit the x-rays from above as the regular marines scope out the streets at ground level."

Victor smirked—he had a lot of respect for the 11th LRD. They were quick and strong, and could often turn the tide of a battle on their own through their ingenious methods of flanking. They would be a force to reckon with on the battlefield. Listening again as the colonel continued, Victor grasped his helmet tightly at his side.

"Bravo Cadre! Engineers, heavy infantry. Your job is to blow up any places that the four-eyed fuckers might have holed up in. Bunkers, buildings, grocery stores, the closest retirement home—light 'em on fire, fill them with plasma, or level them with explosives, I don't care. Just get the job done. Captain Pietro, you know your men, and you know what's expected of you." Captain Pietro, the resident leader of the Bravo Cadre unit onboard, simply saluted.

"Now, the Special Assault Division! You troopers have the most important role of all. You see, while all the marines, the 11th, and Bravo Cadre are hitting the city, you guys will be infiltrating the Capitol building, and perform a hostage rescue. VIPs are Governor Montoya and his council. Disciple 2 will infiltrate, while Scarlet 1, Overture 1 and Royal 2 will stake out the Capitol from the outside. Keep the VIPs alive until extraction can be pulled in, and take out as many of those four-eyes as you can." Colonel Price slapped his hands together, pulling away from the blue table. "We're done here, SPECWARCOM. All units, head down to the hangar for your transports. Dismissed."

"Attention all hands, this is your captain speaking. We've got five mikes before we enter New Mojave's atmosphere, so strap yourselves in and standby. If you look to your right, there are several bags into which you may expunge the contents of your dinner, and to your left should be a button to press that will do nothing, and simply serves to relieve yourself of stress. If this is your first flight, good luck, and if it isn't… we sympathize. Thanks for flying Air Condor." The speaker's transmission promptly closed, and the interior of the Condor dropship descended into silence.

"Hey, Lancer! Don't we always get the sarcastic pilots?" A large Caucasian man called out to Jonathan Volker, hefting his R250 SAW, a light machinegun. Volker turned, smirking.

"Seems so, Viking. Dontcha' love it?" In response, the hulking man laughed, before taking notice of Victor, who was sitting next to him.

"Hey, man. You the rookie?"

"That he is, Viking. Now, don't go dumping all your bad habits on the kid." On Victor's other side sat Valerie Black, who carried an R64 Adaptive Combat Rifle. She was apparently Victor's spotter, as per Volker's orders, and held within her a sense of ferocity. Viking or, as his actual name was, Jason Dunn, gave a genuine smile.

"No guarantees, Black." He turned back to Victor, who sat quietly, holding his sniper rifle. "Say, kid, we need a name for you."

Victor turned, an eyebrow raised under his helmet. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you need a name. We've all got one in this squad. We've got Volker, who's called Lancer, and he's our fearless leader. Ahmad over there, we call him Evocati, our infiltrator. Girl over there, Jennifer Comstock? Hardline, she's the one who's gonna keep you alive if you've got a gaping hole in your chest."

"Ah, come on, Viking. No need to scare the kid. He's in the SAD now, probably won't get scared in the first place. He'll love the danger." The girl smirked, a devious look in her eyes. "Besides, I'd probably ignore a gaping chest wound. Probs' dead at that point." Victor chuckled at that.

"As I was saying, next one is Clown, Devon Riley. Heavy weapons guy number one, he is, but he likes to call himself a grenadier."

"That's the proper term for it." Clown, a relatively small man, sat back, lounging in his seat as he spoke.

"Proper my ass. Then you've got Black, she's your spotter. Gerard Grayson, now he's our pointman, CQC expert. We call him Dusk. Bishop over there, his name is Maliq Johnson. He's Demo-guy two and CQC two. Finally, we've got me, our resident friendly Squad Automatic Rifleman."

"Otherwise known as Viking."

"He loves to fight like one, and loves to drink like one!"

"Shame he can't hold down his liquor."

"Ah, shut up, guys." Dunn, otherwise known as Viking, laughed, seeming very much like a hearty old Nordic viking in that moment. "Now, we need a name for you. The fuck do we call you?"

"Rook." Black called from her position, smiling. "We'll call him Rook. Short for Rookie. Good name, huh?"

Victor turned to face her, nodding, before looking at Viking again. "What do you think?"

The large man thought for a moment, frowning deeply. Finally, he burst out in a grin, and clapped Victor's shoulder. "I like it! It's a good name, so we'll call you Rook from now on."

Volker, or Lancer, smiled, before nodding. "Then, let's all give a warm welcome to the newest member of Disciple 2. Rook, our bastion of the castle!" The various occupants of the Condor cheered, before they were interrupted by the pilot once more.

"Attention, all passengers, I'd hate to interrupt your little love-making in the back, but please standby for atmospheric entry, in 3… 2… 1…"

With a sudden boom, the cabin of the Condor shook and rattled, as its passengers were bumped around, having only the straps around their seats to hold them in. Victor held on for dear life, as the dropship violently entered New Mojave's atmosphere, the transport barely rated for such fast entries.

"Aaaaand, we're in! Be advised, LZ is still five mikes away. Sit tight, and watch the fireworks as the marines come down from orbit. For your use, a set of viewports will be opening in the sides of the cabin. Enjoy, Disciple 2."

Corporal Kevin Bradley sighed calmly as he watched the hustle and bustle of the hangar. Marines, technicians, and sailors rushed this way and that way, all anxious or eager to engage the batarians on the ground. A few familiar voices reached his ears, and Kevin turned to see the rest of his squad approaching.

With the addition of Justin Ybarra, Winter 3-2 had been turned from a small four-man crack squad into an adaptable one composed of five men. His squadmates had hit it off with Ybarra pretty well, as had Bradley, and Winter 3-2 had embraced the increase in its numbers. Standing straight, Kevin gave a relaxed salute to his squad leader, Staff Sergeant Steve Grays, before he addressed them.

"Hey, girl scouts! You're finally here, eh?" Approaching them, Kevin gave a high-five to Cooper and nodded towards the others. "Enjoy making those cookies?"

"Hey, Kevin, our cookies are fantastic. Not sure what you're getting at there." Alves said, eliciting chuckles out of the rest of the squad.

Sergeant Grays simply patted Kevin's shoulder, handing over an R8 SCAR. "And you forgot your rifle again, Bradley. At this rate, I'm going to have to report you to the Supply Sergeant."

"Nah man, Sergeant Rico loves me, he won't do shit."

"You sure about that, Corporal?"

Kevin simply laughed, turning back around towards a nearby armored vehicle. "Ah, fuck you, sarge. Besides, I was down here early, setting up our transport. M79 Cuirassier Orbital-Entry Infantry Fighting Vehicle. I love these god-damn things, can even wreck tanks if the driver's good enough."

The squad made their ways towards the vehicle, watching as a hatch opened at the top of the IFV. A man, clad in a black tanker outfit, emerged, his helmet's sigil denoting him as a member of a mechanized division. The man looked at Winter 3-2, frowning.

"Hey, you guys Winter 3-2?"

Sergeant Grays nodded, before responding. "Yeah, we are. Time to load up?"

"That it is, Sergeant. Get in, hangar's opening up in ten mikes."

Grays nodded, before motioning for the rest of the squad to enter the IFV. A large ramp opened at the back, allowing the marines access to the inside.

Once inside, the marines took their seats, cradling their weapons in their hands. Kevin looked at Sergeant Grays, eyeing the closing door in the corner of his eye. "Hey sarge. What's the deal, what're our orders?"

Steve looked at Kevin, before turning the TacPad on his wrist on. "Orders for us ground-pounders are simple—hit the dirt, kill any bad guys, and rescue any civilians. We've got several caches of DM12 rifles coming with us, too, to give to civvies. Special Forces guys are hitting the Capitol, extracting the governor, so we're to create as much of a diversion as we can."

"So, mechanized insert, then screening through the main city?" Cooper asked from the side, his R260B on his lap.

"Correctomundo, Private."

"What about the relay stations outside the city, sir? Don't the batarians give a damn about those?"

"Not that I know of, Alves. Seems they're more interested in the city itself. Now, Ybarra. You got a link-up with any air support?"

Justin Ybarra shook his head. "Nope. Air support is off for now, they're relegating it to the higher-ups. Unless we get some gunships on station, I can't do shit."

"Redcells or Valkyries?"

In response, Ybarra simply whacked Alves on the head, signaling his aversion to the question. "Redcells, dumbass. You think a small colony like this is gonna have Valkyries on the ground? They've only got a small airfield, nothing that can fit an A/R-12."

Alves massaged his head, before putting his helmet on. "You ain't gotta hit me like that, Techie."

"Shoulda had your helmet on, sailor-boy." Ybarra smirked, but the smile was quickly wiped off his face when he saw Kevin.

"Techie. I like that. We got Sarge, and we got Techie." Kevin nudged Cooper, leaning in close. "You think we should have some sort of deathmatch between our resident sergeants?"

"Hey, hey, hey, Corporal. You're toeing the line there, buddy."

Kevin turned towards Sergeant Grays, the devious smile still on his face, though hidden by his helmet's faceplate. "I'm not your buddy, sir."

"That's it, you're demoted to Girl Scout, Bradley."

"I thought you were the Chief Girl Scout."

Their merrymaking was interrupted, however, when a small speaker in the corner of the IFV crackled. "Attention, all passengers, hangar is opening in one mike. Strap yourselves in, and get ready for a Mechanized Orbital Entry."

Kevin looked down, strapping himself in his seat, before looking at Grays. "Hey, sarge. How many times have you been in a MOE?"

Grays turned his head towards Kevin, a grin on his face. "About… ten times, now? What about you?"

"Six, sarge. It never gets old."

"Ten seconds!"

"Really, now? I would have expected someone like you to cry for your mother every time you're deployed through MOE."

"Nah, sarge. It's really fun—like a roller coaster, but better." Kevin smirked, before relaxing in his seat. "Now, here comes the fun part. Dropped from orbit, down to the surface. Who's to say we're not gonna die on impact?"

"About a thousand different safety regulations slapped on this vehicle, chucklefuck. Now shut up so you don't bite your tongue off." At that, a light in the corner opposite the speaker lit a bright scarlet.

"Light is red! Light is red! All passengers, secure yourselves."

The light in the corner turned green a few seconds later, and the IFV started to rumble forwards, the driver locking its wheels as it went.

"Light is green, light is green! Dropping in three… two… one! Dropping now, hold tight, marines!"

The M79 Cuirassier soared out of the open hangar of the RNS Crusader, quickly joined by a multitude of other IFVs and APCs. The vehicles gave off the feel of a hoard of wasps as they fell down, gaining speed as they entered New Mojave's atmosphere. Inside the IFV, Kevin grasped his harness tightly, his knuckles turning white under the pressure. Grays' radio crackled, Colonel Capet's voice coming through.

"All units, be advised, landing zones are hot. Viper Company, you're with me, we're setting up an FOB right outside the city. Callsigns Winter, you're the tip of the spear, so don't fuck up. Estimated time of arrival is one mike, so get ready! Captain Cole, I expect the best out of you."

Captain Cole's voice rang through, slightly distorted by the interference. "Copy that, ma'am. Winter knows what to do."

"Captain Cole, Winter 3-1, where the hell are we landing, sir?" The voice of Winter 3-1's squad leader queried, his voice coming through the radio.

"Inside the city, 3-1. Grid sectors Mike Whiskey through Mike Zulu, marked on your TacPads—it's a large highway, plenty of space for Winter to land. Hot drop, so immediate engagements are likely."

Kevin looked at Grays, noticing that his squad leader's face was full of joy and excitement. "Jeez, sarge, you weren't kidding when you said you loved it!"

In response, the staff sergeant looked back at Kevin as if he was slow-witted. "Of course I wasn't, Corporal. You think I'd lie about that? MOE's are the biggest rushes I've ever had."

"Twenty seconds!" The driver's voice sounded off, and Kevin looked back at the ground, preparing himself for the impact.

Nineteen… eighteen… seventeen… Kevin could feel the rising heat inside the cabin, sweat starting to pour down neck. He heard a sharp hiss, and the temperature seemed to drop an significant amount—enough to prevent the IFV from burning up at all, but not enough to abate the discomfort the marines faced.

"Ten seconds!"

Ten… nine… eight… He looked to the side, seeing that while Cooper and Ybarra were at ease with the ordeal, Alves looked like he had wet himself. The sailor-turned-marine had never gone through a MOE before, much to the Slavic-Hispanic technician's chagrin. The man had both disarmed and set off countless numbers of bombs and explosives, yet did not fare well with one of the UER Marine Corps' most infamous methods of combat insertion.

Five… four… three… two… The IFV seemed to rock violently up and down, shaking the marines in their seats. "One! We're on the ground boys, get ready to move out!" The driver of the Cuirassier called out, immediately setting on clearing the IFV's surroundings. "Gunner, first target! Twenty meters, light armored vehicle, fire Spiker!"

The security harnesses around the marines lifted, and Kevin wasted no time in retrieving his weapons from their racks. He readied himself, taking off his rifle's safety, and looked at Grays, eager for orders. In the muted air of the cabin, Kevin Bradley could hear the notorious swish swish of the Spiker mounted on the IFV, spitting out rocket after deadly rocket. "Sir, Type 1 demount?"

"Affirmative, Bradley. Cooper, Alves, take left side. Bradley, Ybarra, take right. I'll take center."

"Roger that."

"Copy."

"Wilco, sarge."

Grays looked towards the back of the IFV, eyeing the light in the corner, when the driver spoke again. "All passengers, be advised, ramp is descending in five seconds! Good luck out there, marines."

A few seconds later, the light in the corner turned green, and the ramp descended with a hiss, revealing the outdoors to the marines. Immediately, they rushed outside, the members of Winter 3-2 taking their positions. Upon snapping to the right, Kevin saw several figures running along the road, his HUD marking them as hostiles. He pulled his rifle's trigger twice, sending two bursts into the distance, and was satisfied when the figures fell.

"Contacts right!"

"Contacts left, on the road! Hit 'em hard, Cooper!"

Immediately, the area around them erupted in light as bullets sang through the air, speeding this way and that way. Kevin ducked, narrowly avoiding a shot from a batarian, before taking cover against the Cuirassier, his rifle up and at the ready. He could see several other IFVs landing nearby, their own occupants dismounting. He turned to look at Sergeant Grays, who was firing off his rifle. "Grays, orders?"

"Hold 'em off for now, Corporal. Cooper, infantry, twenty meters to your nine. Get that MG deployed now!"

Kevin frowned, before turning away, sighting several batarians to his front. He aimed his rifle at the nearest one, firing off several rounds. The batarian fell, clutching its chest, and Kevin snapped to his next target, hearing Grays' next words.

"Alright, Winter 3-2, we're oscar mike! Orders are to head up the highway, clear out any batarians, and liberate the residential center." Kevin nodded to himself before standing up, clutching his rifle tightly. The squad started to move north up the highway, quickly joining the rest of Winter Company and their light-armored companions.

"Black, Rook, you guys in position?"

"Affirmative, Lancer. We've got eyes on." The voice of 1st Lieutenant Valerie Black sounded somewhere to Victor's right, but the young SAD trooper paid it no heed, continuing to keep his scope aligned towards the rest of Disciple 2.

It had been some twenty minutes since their deployment groundside, and Captain Jonathan Volker had immediately seen fit to allocate Victor and Valerie to sniper support, watching over the rest of the team as they moved along the ground. They were posted on the edge of a roof, watching for any hostiles that would reveal Disciple 2's location. Faintly, Victor could hear the signs of battle somewhere behind them, telling him that the marines were still engaging the batarians.

"Copy that, Black. From here on out, use squad designations, and keep us posted on any hostiles."

"Roger that, 2-1. 2-5 and 2-6 will clear the street ahead of you, standby."

All of the different numbers, designations, and callsigns were a tad confusing to Victor, but he surmised that he would get the hang of it soon. From what he had gathered so far, the nicknames like "Rook," "Lancer," and "Black" were in-squad nicknames, generally not to be used over radio or other means of communication, while designations like "2-1" for Volker, "2-5" for Valerie, and "2-6" for Victor were strictly radio-communication callsigns for logistics purposes. Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Victor stood up to follow Valerie, who was beginning to head to the northern side of the roof.

"Come on, Rook, we need to shift north to get eyes on."

"Got it, moving." The two snipers ran along the roof, eventually reaching the north side where Victor laid down, setting up his Harrier on a bipod. "Alright, in position. Got any eyes on, Black?"

Valerie looked through a set of binoculars, before she seemed to focus on something. "I've got one, Rook. 300 meters, balcony. Reference 2-1's position—above and to the right, three stories high. He's facing us—take him out."

Victor followed Black's directions, eventually finding his target—a batarian, clutching what looked to be a rifle. Taking a moment to zero his rifle, he took aim, holding his crosshairs right above the batarian's head to compensate for any distance further than 300 meters. He breathed in, holding the air for a few precious seconds, tension and anxiety rising in his his head. A moment later, Victor exhaled, pulling the trigger at the same time.

A hit. The batarian fell without a sound, his head spotless besides a small bloody hole on the nose. He was dead. Victor pulled back his rifle's bolt, chambering another round.

"Good shot, Rook." Valerie said, before contacting the rest of the team. "2-1, you're clear for sixty meters. Watching for any other hostiles."

"Solid copy, 2-5, we're moving. Any signs of enemy convoys or squads?" Volker said.

"Negative, 2-1. Hold, we've got contact. Rook, sight up. 300 meters, ground level. Reference 2-1, fifty meters to the right. Take the shot."

Once more, Victor went through his mental steps, finding his crosshairs over the batarian's head. He was about to pull the trigger when he noticed movement. Stopping himself, Victor continued to watch, seeing three other batarians join the first.

"Damnit. Black, target is a no-go, he's got friends. You don't happen to have anything besides that ACR, do you?"

"That's a no, Rook. I can still hit 'em at this range, but it won't be as effective. Besides, there's four of them now."

Victor frowned, continuing to observe the batarians. However, the patrol group left the first, continuing along some sort of patrol route. "Black, they're gone. Only got the one left."

"Good. Take the shot."

Victor nodded, before sighting in again. He exhaled as he pulled his rifle's trigger, smirking slightly when he saw the batarian crumple silently.

"Good shot, Rook. 2-1, you're clear. Be advised, we suspect there's a patrol route near the dead batarian, so hide the body for us."

"Roger, 2-5. We'll be moving parallel to your position, so keep an eye along the road."

Victor continued to watch along the rest of Disciple 2's path, seeing nothing of note. Valerie seemed to be of a similar mindset, and they watched over Disciple 2 as the team moved out of their line of sight.

"2-1, 2-5. We've lost eyes on, relocating to OP Bravo now."

"Roger that."

Victor looked to the side, seeing Valerie stand back up. He joined her, cradling his rifle with care. "What's the score, Black?"

"We're moving closer to the Capitol now. We're set to RV with Scarlet, Royal, and Overture, and then our orders are to hit the Capitol with Scarlet. OP Bravo overlooks the Capitol, but I think sniper support is being taken over by Royal's team." Valerie explained as the pair ran along the roof. Victor simply nodded, and within a couple minutes the sniper team found themselves perched on a lower building, overlooking the streets behind a large domed building.

The Capitol, it seemed. It was pearly white, probably constructed of concrete and steel, was low and stooped, and bore red and black flags on each side, emblazoned with the golden eagle of the UER. Victor couldn't see any batarians around it—it was likely that they were all inside the Capitol building itself. Valerie seemed to be of the same mind as she contacted the Disciple 2.

"2-1, you've got a clear path to the Capitol. Orders?"

"Standby, 2-5. You've got Royal 2-7 and 2-8 heading towards OP Bravo now, they'll be taking over sniper support." Volker paused, his breath audible over the static of the radio. "Once they're there, rendezvous with us on the ground. We'll be hitting the Capitol from the rear."

"Wilco, 2-1. Holding."

Victor proceeded to wait, continuing to observe the Capitol building as he did so. A few minutes later, a pair of armored figures approached their position. Victor stood up, holding his rifle at the ready as he called out the challenge phrase.

"Icepick!"

The two figures stopped, before responding. "Everest!" Victor gave a light grin, slightly relieved, before approaching the two figures, Valerie following.

"Welcome. Royal 2-7, 2-8?"

"Affirmative. We'll be taking over sniper support, you guys better head down."

Victor nodded, before turning around to follow Valerie to the edge of the roof. Once there, the young trooper kneeled, taking a cord at his hip and attaching it to the roof. Securing the cable tightly, he turned around, before leaning off the building. Victor turned towards Valerie, who had done the same.

"See you on the ground, Rook." She started to rappel down, and Victor promptly followed, jumping and landing below their initial position. A few seconds later, they had both reached street-level, and the two troopers detached their cables, preparing to move out.

"Okay, clear. Come on, Rook, let's RV with 2-1."

"Got it, I'm with you." Victor started to run, following hot on Valerie's heels, and they quickly found themselves meeting with the rest of Disciple 2. Victor moved his Harrier to his back, attaching it on one of the magnetic strips, before replacing it with his R8 SCAR.

"Black, Rook, glad to have you join us." Volker said. "We're setting up to breach in a few mikes."

"What's the plan, chief?" The squad grenadier and demo, 1st Lieutenant Devon Riley, asked.

"One second, Clown." Volker brought up his TacPad, and a after a few touches on the screen a holographic image popped up, showing a map of the team's surroundings. "Now, we don't know where exactly the governor is being held, so we need to hit all places at once. The plan is to breach and clear on multiple fronts and floors. Evocati," he said as he pointed to Lieutenant Malouf. "You're with me and Hardline—we're taking section A, on the ground floor, with a shaped charge, C-9. Clown, you lead Dusk and Bishop—you guys are hitting the second story, right here. Use flashbangs and detpacks." Volker took a moment to point at a specific point on the map, looking at the designated troopers as he did so.

"I assume Rook and Viking are with me?" Valerie asked, hefting her sidearm, an R65 Albatross.

"Affirmative, Black. You'll be hitting the third story, same equipment as Clown's team. Governor Montoya is likely either on that floor, or on the ground story in the Council Floor. Everyone know their roles?" The rest of Disciple 2 nodded their heads, voicing their affirmations. "Right. Now guys, once we hit this place, the x-rays will likely be crying wolf on every channel they've got. We need to speed through and get ahold of the VIP, while our counterparts defend outside. Let's head to our positions, second and third floor teams, grapple up."

Victor stood back up, following Black and Viking to their designated position. Throwing his rappel hook up the wall, he proceeded to slowly climb up the building, Valerie and Dunn with him. They reached the third floor, and he moved above his marked window, preparing to breach.

"Disciple 2, sound off."

"Clown, in position."

"Black, in position."

"Copy. All units, standby for breach."

Victor waited patiently, one hand holding the cord and the other holding his rifle. He looked over to his right, seeing Dunn with his machine gun, and Valerie with both a flashbang and a small, round ball in her hands. A few seconds later, Volker spoke once more.

"Disciple 2, ready to breach. 3… 2… 1… breach, breach, breach!"

Victor watched as Valerie threw in the flashbang first, waiting until a white light seemed to burst out of the now broken window. Then, she threw in the detpack, which promptly detonated within the building. Victor could hear a multitude of pained cries, but hesitated no longer, pushing with his feet off the wall. He swung through the window, breaking it with his feet, and found himself within a large room, red carpet lining the floors. Immediately, he detached himself from his cable before snapping his rifle up, assessing the situation.

Eleven tangos, mixed small arms. Four in front of me, leaves seven to the others. Headshots only, clean and quick. Victor aimed at the nearest batarian and pulled his rifle's trigger twice, sending two MA-31 rounds at the hostile's head. He then snapped towards the next alien, firing a burst into its head, before repeating the process with two others.

"Clear left!" He turned on his heels and assumed a crouching position, seeing that both Valerie and Dunn had finished off their share of batarians. The large room, while clear, was empty of any humans, and there was a single door out to what Victor assumed was the hallway. Taking a moment to listen, Victor could hear the sounds of conflict outside—gunshots, explosions, and shouts. Evidently, the other SAD teams had engaged the batarian reinforcements.

"Room is clear, keep moving! Rook, take point. Let's move!"

"Roger!" Victor stood back up, approaching the exit. Leaning against the wall, he turned back towards Valerie, who instead nodded towards Dunn. The large man smiled, walking in front of the door. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped back, before giving the door a powerful kick.

Boom!

It flew open, nearly breaking off of its hinges, and as Dunn retreated from the opening, Victor exited, immediately turning left on a dime—he knew that Valerie would take the right. Aiming down the narrow corridors, he crouched down, his eyes wide and alert. "Clear left!"

"Clear right! Rook, you take point—we're moving to the left."

"Roger, moving!" Victor calmly walked along the hallway, scanning every nook and cranny. "Black, you know the layout?"

"Affirmative, I've got everything on the TacPad. Wait—there's several rooms to our right. Rook, get your TacSight on Magnetic, see what's going on in there."

"Roger." Victor put a hand to the side of his helmet, before tapping it. His visor promptly went black, before turning his vision into a faint, ghostly white.

While TacSight was a staple of every UER infantryman's equipment, most units were limited to specific vision sets, including Night Vision, Infrared, or FLIR. However, the more "elite" units of the UER were given access to more advanced suites that were ultimately more expensive. Magnetic Vision, commonly abbreviated as MGVS, was an advanced piece of hardware that enabled its user to effectively see through walls, highlighting electronic or magnetic origins. It was highly effective, seeing as how most modern armors, hardsuits, and equipment were largely digitalized.

Thus, Victor was able to see through the walls of the building. Scanning the rooms, Victor noted multiple small rooms off to the sides of the corridor that contained red figures—they seemed to be alert, and ready to take out the invaders.

"Black, marking targets on your TacSight now. You see them?" Victor said, gradually marking each target he saw.

"The red outlines? Yeah, I see them. Fifteen on this floor in total, three smaller rooms and one large one—looks to be a staircase." Black stood back up, nodding towards Victor. "Let's move."

Victor got up from his crouched position, slowly moving forwards with his rifle raised. As he passed one door, he took note of the two hostiles within, but ignored them. "Closed door right, two hostiles." Having passed the door, he waited, hearing Black and Dunn clear the room. A few seconds later they returned, the batarians within dead. Victor continued on his way, and they repeated the process with three other small rooms, before stopping before the door to the large one.

"Black, standby—seven hostiles left, all in this room."

"Copy. Team, get into position," Valerie said. Victor pressed himself against the wall, waiting as Valerie got behind him and Jason stood on the other side of the door. "Team, breach and clear on my mark. Viking, kick the door in. Rook, get a pulse grenade in there. Three. Two. One. Mark!"

Hearing her words, Victor pulled out one of the grenades strapped at his hip—An R31 Pulse Grenade, used specifically as an EMP weapon. Victor watched as Dunn kicked the door in, swiftly entering the room afterwards. Once he was in, he swiveled on his feet, taking note of the three batarians to his left and the four to his front. Immediately, Victor pulled the trigger, focusing on those to his front while leaving the others to Valerie.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

With four trigger pulls, four separate rounds entered the skulls of the unshielded batarians. He could hear similar gunshots behind him, as three bodies fell to Victor's left. "Clear!"

"Room clear. Rook, check the rest of the floor, I'll contact Lancer and Clown." Valerie said as she moved a hand to her helmet. Victor crouched down again, once more activating his TacSight. The floor seemed to be entirely devoid of batarians—they had cleared most of them out. Down below, though, Victor could see three blue figures matching their teammates. Turning the helmet module off, Victor turned back to see Valerie still speaking over the radio.

"So we've got the VIP?"

"Affirmative, Black. Ground floor is clear, and Clown told me they're mopping up on the second. Extraction is inbound in five, but we've still got a hot situation outside. We'll RV on Royal 2-7 and 2-8's PO in three. Copy?"

"Solid copy, Lancer. Black out." Valerie removed her hand from her helmet, turning back to Dunn and Victor. "You heard him, guys. Let's move out."

Crack! Crack! Crack! Corporal Kevin Bradley flinched, hiding himself behind a small concrete barrier.

"Shit, shit, shit! I'm pinned down over here, help me out!" Kevin cried out, fumbling with his rifle as he attempted to maintain his composure. He could see small spits of dust sprouting out from the wall and street around him as shots landed far too close for comfort. Breathing heavily, Kevin decided to take a risk, quickly snapping out of cover to fire off a couple bursts. He barely managed to see the shots land true before being forced back into cover, his shields nearly breaking.

"Hold on, Bradley, support's on the way! Fuck, Cooper! Get that MG deployed, squad of foot-mobiles approaching on bearing 279!"

Kevin flinched again as more and more dust sprayed up, pieces of the concrete barrier flying off as shots landed upon it. Nearby, blood spat out of the body of a deceased marine as the batarians continued to fire at the corpse.

"God damnit, sarge, if I die here I'm gonna haunt your fucking dreams of sex and wine for the rest of your miserable life! Get over here quick, sir!"

However, there was no response, and Kevin was about ready to give up and go out in a blaze of glory when he heard the low-pitched ratatata of an R260B. He spared a moment to look up, seeing the muzzles of several different firearms poking out of a low-hanging balcony.

"Told you we'd be here, Corporal. Now, get up here before more of them arrive!" Hearing Sergeant Grays' voice, Bradley gave a low chuckle, before getting up cautiously. Looking over the desolate street to his front, he could see nothing but debris, sand, blood, and bodies. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of explosions, gunfire, and vehicles. Hesitating no longer, Kevin moved away from his brief hiding spot, moving up a small staircase into the sand-caked building itself.

Inside, Bradley could see a multitude of marines, all performing different actions. Some marines sat or laid on the ground, holding wounds as medics attended to them. At the windows and balconies, marines stood at the ready, watching for any signs of attackers. Looking over to the balcony that hanged over his initial position outside, he saw his squad leader, Sergeants Grays, as well as Alves and two other marines.

"Casualties, sir?" Kevin asked Grays.

"Well, we started with all four squads from third platoon, Winter Company. Now? We've got one—now two, dead, and eight wounded. Puts us at about twenty-six combat-ready men." Grays stopped walking, looking over at five other marines situated around a small table—the other squad leaders of Winter Company's third platoon, the third platoon's commanding officer, Lieutenant Richards, and Ybarra the Enlisted Terminal Attack Controller. "Get yourself rested and eat something—we've got rations in the corner over there. I need to meet with the other SLs, and raise Captain Cole."

Kevin simply nodded, suddenly noting his fatigue, before moving to a corner of the building. Plopping down, he rested his head back against the walls, closing his eyes. The events that had transpired so far since their initial drop were wearisome and exhausting, to say the least, and Kevin was glad to have a chance to rest, no matter how brief.

After dropping onto the main highway of the city, Winter Company had moved up along the road, taking out strategic targets as they did so. Somewhere behind them, Viper Company had set up a Forward Operating Base, while Avenger and Misfit Companies had targeted other parts of the city—Avenger had taken the nearby lake that bordered the city, while Misfit had undertaken a mission to liberate the economic center of the city, which largely consisted of casinos and entertainment venues. Winter Company and, by extension, Winter 3-2, had eventually reached the residential center, where batarian forces were allegedly concentrated the most, and had thus initiated a gruesome battle for domination.

Captain Cole had seen fit to detach the members of Winter's third platoon to their flank, tasked with holding a critical street that, if pierced, would lead straight into Winter Company's rear. Lieutenant Richards had chosen a large building—what seemed to be a restaurant—to concentrate the members of his platoon as well as his headquarters. With such a valuable chokepoint at hand, the batarians had thrown wave after wave of infantry and light vehicles at the restaurant, hoping to push back marines. However, Richards had chosen a good spot, as evident by their relatively low casualty rates.

Kevin's thoughts were interrupted when he heard Lieutenant Richards' distinct, low-pitched voice, clearly speaking to Captain Cole.

"Winter Actual, this is Winter 3 Actual. Do you read?"

"Affirmative, I read you. Send traffic, over."

"Third platoon is still holding at Checkpoint Foxtrot, but hostile forces are still attempting to penetrate—we've got a buildup of enemies west of our position, and thermal's sighted at least two light armored vehicles. We need immediate AT support, how copy?"

"Solid copy. Be advised, Battlegroup Autumn has detached a flight of F/A-51 Zeus ASFs, Hammer 4-6 and Hammer 4-2. Inform your resident ETAC and get those birds to hit your targets. Winter Company is still hitting x-ray defensive lines, and we've nearly routed them, so hold for just a little bit longer. Winter Actual out."

Kevin watched as Lieutenant Richards nodded, before getting Ybarra's attention. "Technical Sergeant, you still have your equipment?"

Ybarra looked at the Lieutenant, giving a brief salute before responding. "Yes sir, I do. I hear we have Zeus' on station?"

"Aye, we do. Get a line with them, Sergeant, and direct them towards the batarians positions out there."

"Yes sir." Ybarra turned away, crouching down while holding his radio equipment. "Hammer 4-6, this is Winter 3-2, do you read?"

After a brief moment of silence, the radio crackled with a slightly distorted voice. "We read you, Winter 3-2. This is Hammer 4-6, flight of two F/A-51 Zeus Armored Strike Fighter ready with 65mm guns S-LAAGs. Send traffic, over."

"Hammer 4-6, are you on sight for CAS?" Ybarra said, his face wrought with concentration as he looked out the balcony to the west.

"Affirmative, Winter, holding out for mission confirmation. You have one on station?"

"That's a yes, Hammer 4-6. Close-in fire support, grid sector Charlie-Whiskey, coordiantes are six-four-niner… three-fife-one. Gun target line two-seven-niner. Your target is a grouping of x-rays staging at section near marked Checkpoint Foxtrot, how copy, over?"

"Solid copy, Winter 3-2. That's just within five hundred meters of your PO—danger close. Confirm?"

Ybarra continued to watch out the window, eyeing the batarians warily. "Confirm, Hammer 4-6."

"Roger, fire mission danger close! Two guns, eight rounds, HE delay in effect. You have eyes on the sky, Winter 3-2?"

Ybarra then looked up, catching sight of two faint figures in the sky. "Affirmative, Hammer 4-6. Give 'em hell."

"Affirmative. Guns trained on target… shot, over."

Looking at the same position in the sky, Ybarra was able to see two pairs of bright flares in succession, signaling the expulsion of the 65mm shell. "Shot, out."

"Splash in five seconds."

In the distance, four bright red explosions rocked the batarian positions, sending some of them flying as one of their vehicles nearly tipped over from the shockwave. Ybarra could hear their shouts of alarm, but kept his composure. However, the shot was slightly off target, only hitting the side of the batarian formation. "Splash, over."

"Splash, out."

"Adjust fire. Direction 500, add 100, right 150, over."

"Confirmed."

"Fire for effect, over."

"Shot, over."

Once again, Ybarra could see another two pairs of flares, watching as a group of faint outlines raced towards the ground. "Shot, out."

"Splash in five seconds."

This time, the 65mm shells hit true, as the center of the batarian formation was decimated, bodies and limbs flying as their vehicles were disabled. Their position entirely disrupted, the batarians began a hasty retreat from the area, only a fraction of their growing forces left alive. Ybarra let a small smile creep onto his face, satisfaction tainting the grin. "Splash, over."

"Splash, out."

"Winter 3-2 copies, Hammer 4-6. Good effect, x-ray positions disrupted and enemy forces routed. Thanks for the assist, Hammer 4-6."

"Affirmative, Winter 3-2. Next time you're on the Crusader, find a Captain Simons and a Lieutenant Bowles, and buy us some beers. Hammer 4-6 out."

Ybarra turned away, an even larger smile on his face, as he watched and heard the whoops and yells of the men of Winter's third platoon, all of them sated by the explosions. He looked at Lieutenant Richards and Sergeant Grays, a questioning gaze in his eyes. "Well, I guess we're in the clear now, sir. What now?"

Lieutenant Richards chuckled, looking back at the rest of his leadership cadre. "Well, I just got word from Captain Cole—they've taken a few critical points, and they need us in the final push." Turning away, he raised his voice so as to get the attention of the rest of the platoon. "Third platoon, up and at 'em, we're oscar mike! Let's move out!"

Back in his corner, Corporal Kevin Bradley groaned before slowly getting up, stretching his arms and legs. He picked up his rifle, making sure the safety was on, before following Sergeant Grays out of the building.

Codex

M79 Cuirassier—OEIFV (Orbital-Entry Infantry Fighting Vehicle)

Mark 79

Primary: R26 30mm Gauss Cannon

Secondary: T98 Bull Multi-Repeating Spiker (Bull MRS)

Light TOW Missiles

Gunner: .50 Gauss Heavy Machine Gun

Three Man Crew—Driver, Gunner, Support

Holds 6 Passengers

Wheeled

The M79 is unique amongst other IFVs, in that it is the only IFV (and AFV) to be stationed within non-carrier/troop transport ships, and is deployed by dropping the Cuirassier from GSO. Heavy single-use jump-jets support the landing. Thus, the Cuirassier is used exclusively by the Marine Corps.

45th Special Assault Division: The SAD. November Group

The Special Assault Division, or SAD, is composed of some of the best UER marines and soldiers. The SAD primarily takes part in dangerous raids, assaults, and infiltration operations that would be near devastating for regular UER Marines and soldiers to handle. However, they also occasionally take part in black operations, using alternate gear that cannot be traced to the SAD. The Special Assault Division's operations are usually loud, explosive, and bullet-filled. Any infiltration ops are solely used to get into a base undetected, plant explosives of any sort, and set them off while simultaneously fighting their own way out to extraction—usually to sow discord and confusion among hostiles. Training is a year and a quarter long, which ends in an extremely intense, 3 week long forced firefight between each of the trainees. They are also issued the AW-19 Beam Baton, which can be used as either a non-lethal blunt weapon, or a lethal shortsword-like weapon, depending on if the hardlight blade is activated.

11th Light Reconnaissance Division: The 11th LRD, Light Assaults. Echo Group

The 11th Light Reconnaissance Division is an elite shock-trooper special operations division, specializing in light assault and reconnaissance. They are equipped with jump-jets, allowing them for unparalleled mobility on the battlefield. Training is a year long, and is intense, requiring elite parkour, mobility, and athleticism tests.

32nd Combat Engineering Division—Bravo Cadre: Bravo Cadre. Delta Group

Within the UER and RAF, Combat Engineers are very important. Unlike military engineers of the 21st and 22nd centuries, the RAF's Combat Engineers are given intense combat training, and are considered the best when it comes to demolitions, hacking, cyber warfare, etc. The 32nd Combat Engineering Division—Bravo Cadre, or Bravo Cadre for short, improve upon these roles, and are considered the best of the Combat Engineers.

R250 Squad Automatic Weapon (R250 SAW)

(Republic-250)

Muzzle Velocity: 2630 meters per second.

Uses MA-31 Rounds.

RoF: 975 RPM

Capacity: 200 rounds per drum magazine

Force: 2657.20 ft-lb

Standard Issue RAF SAW, for squad-based fire support.

DM12 Rifle (DM12)

(Domestic Munitions-12)

Muzzle Velocity: 1950 meters per second.

Uses MA-31 Rounds.

RoF: 790 RPM

Capacity: 30 Rounds per Magazine

Force: 1460.77 ft-lbf

Favored by human law enforcement agencies and civilians.

C-9: The SAD uses the C-9 Self-Adhesive Explosive in a variety of forms for demolitions, breaches, etc.

C-9 SE

A version of C-9, SE being short for Sprayed Explosive, that is applied via a spray can, similar in size to a 21st century water bottle. The explosive, once applied to a surface, changes into a semi-solid, semi-liquid state, and is triggered with an electrical signal that is sent through the explosive, usually through a detonator. Used for small, inaccessible areas that require a certain explosive finesse. Small yield.

C-9 TE

A version of C-9, TE being short for taped explosive, that is applied through a device similar to a tape roller—hence, the name. It adheres to surfaces that the device is rolled across, and is triggered in a similar fashion to the SE. Used for precise, shaped explosions that only detonate the areas the tape covers. Small yield.

C-9 SC

A version of C-9, SC being short for shaped charge, that is stuck to surfaces through simple attachment. The charges take the form of bricks, and are triggered via detonators. Used for regular demolitions. Medium yield.

C-9 BC

a version of C-9, BC being short for breaching charge, that is stuck to surfaces and detonated in a similar fashion to the SC. It takes the form of a squared, flat charge about 5 by 5 inches in area. Used for breaching walls and doors without harming the users in its general vicinity. Concentrated small-medium yield.

C-9 DET

A version of C-9, DET being shorted for detonation, which is commonly referred to as a "detpack." It is a small round ball that is thrown through windows, doors, and other openings that can kill or incapacitate. Often used in conjunction with flashbangs when rappelling/breaching through windows.

R31 Pulse Grenade

Specialized grenade, non-lethal. Used to incapacitate via sonic pulses, or can be set to an EMP mode. Popular with special forces.

Author's Note:

Right, so that was chapter 8. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it, and please keep the top AN in mind.

As a side note, if you guys want to find out what exactly Ybarra and Hammer 4-6 were saying, you should look up Fire Discipline of wikipedia. Pretty cool stuff, but too long to explain in detail on here.

Individual Replies:

MoonBurner: So, I'm basically writing the Codex entries as if they're written by the Citadel in the future, after the war. Hopefully that clears up any confusion.

Kaioo: That is a very good question, and hopefully it'll be answered in the next few chapters. We'll be coming back to the 15th Fleet and Hackett in the future, and how exactly he dealt with the situation will be addressed. Gotta remember... ORI.

Honestly, I don't know much about Battlestar: Galactica. My comment on that was basically going off of what other people have said on the topic. And yes, my beta and I have buffed Mass Effect, to deal with the relative strength of the UER. It was necessary, I would say, but if you have any contradicting ideas, please share them. :) And, for your final question: The UER has been building up their military since the first Insurrection. I would say that with the constant buildup, they would have a pretty sizable military and navy, as opposed to the more diplomatically-minded Systems Alliance. Same for the Turians, while the Asari and Salarians have relatively smaller fleets.

Defenestrated Typewriter: How the UER adopts ME technology will be addressed in the future but, safe to say, the UER will be sticking to their guns, no pun intended, for most of their military tech.

Effervescent Nova: I'll be honest, the lack of batarian shields was a coverup on my part, in part due to the illogical one-sided battle I had initially written up for the first engagement. If you have any ideas to fix that, please share them.

As for Krogan ships, I go with the logic that in sci-fi, naval/orbital superiority is key. There is no use in having an overwhelmingly strong army/marine corps that eradicates their enemy on the ground, when if their navy is destroyed, the enemy could simply bomb their ground forces to oblivion. Having both a strong navy and army is key. So, since i would think the krogans understand that, they would also understand they'd need capable vessels to support their groundpounders. Of course, it doesn't mean their vessels are stronger-I would think the krogans would simply make big guns with thrusters and such. And for the slugs: My beta and I have gone over the slug sizes and speeds for a long time. Initially, I had the UER firing slugs of masses in the hundreds of kilograms. Of course, we found this to be rather stupid-they wouldn't be able to carry as much ammunition, and would require much more power to fire off each shot. Of course, there was also balance in mind-if the UER fires such large slugs, we'd need to downsize the velocity of the slugs, which would give a vast advantage to the ME races-instead of engaging at middle ranges, the UER would have to be right in their enemies' faces, and the ME races would dominate at range. This is not good at all, and thus, we downsized the slugs while increasing their velocities. Hopefully that answers your questions.

Effervescent Nova (again): Honestly, for the matter of elcor and hanar, I was tipping between the two sides-I just went with elcor because I needed to get on with the to how the batarians how of the human systems... we'll be learning why in the future, and Silent Lamb will be at the forefront of that-they weren't just a one-time thing. And, you have to remember... the UER isn't the only source of humans, and they know much more.

Well, again, hopefully you guys all enjoyed this chapter. However, I may be taking a brief break from writing, maybe one to three weeks, so there may be a dearth in chapters for a short time. I just feel as if my stories are suffering from all the constant writing I have to do. Until next time, peace.