Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect nor Honorverse. I am merely throwing the two worlds together. Any original characters, however, are mine.
Thanks everyone who have given me Reviews. I love discussing things with you guys. Feel free to leave questions and I may answer them. Though I would like to ask my readers to stop asking for me to change my mind about the slash. I've decided on it and nothing you guys can say will dissuade me.
Also due to the whole sapient/sentient debate that one reviewer so kindly informed me of, I have changed a few things in chapter 1. I'd also like anyone with knowledge on whether or not the Barthoni are part of Honorverse. I know that they're in another of Weber's works, but they also show up in the Honorverse Wikia.
Oh I've started a new fanfic. Why don't you guys check it out.
Chapter 10: The Aftermath
"Why are we out here?" Shala'Raan asked as she walked behind the diminutive queen whom she was following down the hall. Both she and Daro'Xen had spent the last six weeks after the battle of Shanxi in the company of the queen. Both of them had received several military awards for their actions during the attack and had spent quite a bit of time going through different political hoops to hammer out the alliance that was already beginning to form.
"Because I want to show you my appreciation in the best way that I can," Queen Berry Zilwicki said with a smile as she continued to trudge along, her bodyguards also scrambling to keep up with their small elderly queen.
"And how are you supposed to do that in the middle of an asteroid?" Daro'Xen asked.
"With this," the elderly queen stated as she stood before a large glass panel overlooking a vast dark space. The asteroid that they were currently on was about the size of a small moon, and within was something that she'd advocated giving to the Quarian people, along with several other things. "Alright boys light it up."
Shala'Raan watched as the lights illuminated the massive bay and her eyes could not help but widen at the massive craft sitting before her. It was largely oval in shape with a pair of wings that swept towards its back, but the dimensions! It was twenty kilometers long and about five kilometers high. She just couldn't understand the enormity of it, the ship was practically half the size of one of the Citadel's wards! "What is this?"
"This my friends," Berry said with pride as she looked at the vessel. "Is a Colony Ship. They're mostly utilized by colonists for the terraforming of a planet and later as a start up industrial base. This ship once complete was going to go to the Iera system to colonize the planet Horizon. Instead I decided to repurpose it. That'll push its completion date back by seven months, but what you ladies are looking at is the MFCS Kheela Se'lai."
"MFCS….Kheela Se'lai?" Shala'Raan said confused before looking at Berry sharply.
Queen Berry laughed a bit and smiled. "It is part of my thanks for saving my great grandson, and for the service you provided for my people. We'll be granting you this colony ship, ten of our old frigates, seventeen of our freighters, six of our Trojan ships, four survey ships, three artillery ships, and a repair ship."
Daro'Xen's eyes widened at the number of ships that her people were being given. Forty-two new ships, and one of them being dedicated to fleet repair. "I beg your pardon Queen Berry but what is a repair ship? Would it be able to service most of our ships?" she surely hoped so, but the differences between their technologies, it would be horrible if the repair vessel could not repair the Migrant Fleet because of incompatible software.
"Of course it could. Repair ships use nanomachines, all you need to do is program the computer with the specs of your ships and it should be able to effect repairs. I've also got a few other things in the work that are dependent on a more formal agreement."
"Like what?" Shala'Raan asked. Already this woman had done enough for them. Forty-two new ships, and perhaps trading rights already. What more could this woman want to do? Hell Shala'Raan was sure there were going to be a lot of children named after the aging old queen.
"If you provide Torch with several of your best scientists to work on a joint project, we will be willing to allow you use of Parmley Station."
"And what sort of benefits would we get at this station?" Shala'Raan prompted.
"Well for one thing, we'll give you access to the surrounding area for mining purposes. You'll have a large space station where joint science projects could continue, and, now bear with me this hasn't been confirmed yet, we might get several leading Beowulfan science teams that are interested in boosting your immune systems."
"I..you seem to be doing a lot for us, far more than you should have need to," Shala'Raan stated a little confused. The Torchese were practically bending over backwards to help her people and she didn't understand why.
"Torch has always been a nation that accepts the needy. You seemed to need quite a lot, but think of this in another way. With you at Parmley Station, you'll not only be closer to the Congo System, but you'll be able to use your fleet to your greatest advantage."
"And that would be?" Daro'Xen asked but she was already beginning to see the larger picture. With the Quarian Fleet near Torch's capital it would be easier to defend them, but it also gave the Torchese easy access to the Migrant Fleet, and with that the Fleet's Mass Effect technology. She suspected that they could trade ships with eager human nations, because the scientific wealth of the Migrant Fleet for these humans was the sheer diversity of alien ships available to them. There were mostly civilian examples of each of the Citadel race's technology, and a handful of their military technology. A perfect base with which to develop countermeasures and new technologies.
"I'm pretty sure you've already figured it out," Berry said with a smirk.
"There's just one more question. How are we supposed to fuel that thing?" Because honestly, the ship was massive and Shala'Raan doubted that they'd ever be able to gather enough fuel to get that ship moving.
"Well, you'd have to ask an engineer for the specifics because I'm a diplomat, but the gist of it is that the ship scoops up hydrogen while its moving so you don't need to continuously gather more, and that in FTL it somehow uses the grav waves to power itself. Now then who wants lunch?"
Shala'Raan could not help but laugh at Daro'Xen's disgruntlement as they moved to eat lunch at the mess hall, and of course she could not help but laugh harder when Berry sent her poor poor bodyguard all the way back to the shuttle to fetch her purse because the old queen wanted to show them pictures of her grandchildren.
-TED-
"Report," Jack Harper said as he sat back with a glass of bourbon, taking a few sips as Eva stood before him.
"After analyzing the codex further, we have unfortunately ruled out biosculpting as an efficient way to infiltrate the Hegemony."
Jack brought his cigarette up for a drag as he mulled over the new information. "And our surveillance?"
"We've already dispatched the spider-frigates. They should reach the Batarian home system in sixteen months."
"Good. Let's begin preparations to intercept one of their slave shipments. Hopefully a few would will be grateful enough to work with us," he mused. He didn't have to worry about them being double agents as of yet, this wasn't like fighting Mesa, but he'd probably put them through an interrogation with a treecat just in case. Though the lack of hyper-communications arrays in the area was going to prove challenging.
He was going to need a forward operating base if the Ballroom was going to expand into Citadel Space. Somewhere out of the way, but close enough that he could check things out in the Attican Traverse. "Send a few survey ships to the Horsehead nebula."
"For what purpose Jack?" Eva asked.
"We need a forward operating base in the region. Somewhere close enough to their mass relay network so we can appropriate the intel we need." Mainly he was aiming towards hacking the Salarian networks as well as depending on his own agents.
"I'll get right on it," she said as she added a few things to her datapad before turning around and leaving him to his thoughts.
-TED-
Aecus Vakarian was a man of law. He was one of the most dedicated officers in C-Sec, despite his relatively young age. Just barely past twenty and he was still rocketing through the ranks. Unfortunately, his skill also had him doing things he didn't like, things like infiltrating a secure meeting in order to arrest the most politically powerful turian in the galaxy.
He was barely paying any mind to the analyst up on the podium as he stealthily made his way towards the Councilor.
"As you can see here," the female turian said examining footage from the ill-fated battle of Shanxi. "Our ground forces are of equal standing when it comes to a head on engagement, but when they deploy their mechanized units, only our Cabals seem to be able to stand up to them one on one."
"These enemy units wield plasma cannons and have a gravitic riot shield capable of withstanding everything but a biotic's warp. From our readouts, it seems that only special forces appear to have the mechanized armor suits," and that was a tidbit that Aecus didn't need to know. That the Councilor had all but led his people to war with a race who wore combat armor that made them on par with the Asari in combat.
Still he kept his target in his sight as he made his way over to the man. Once he was close enough he cleared his throat and spoke. "Councilor Moeror Russus, Lieutenant Aecus Vakarian. C-Sec. I need you to come with me sir."
"What is the meaning of this?" the red painted Councilor demanded.
"Councilor, I would not like to cause a scene," he said looking around. "But you are under arrest for treason, misuse of Spectre assets, attempted regicide, and endangering the stability of the galaxy."
That caused the man before him to sag, he knew that the Councilor would not run from these charges, for they were true and no Turian worth his salt would deny it.
"Very well," Councilor Russus said as he stood up, following after the young C-Sec officer. Vakarian could understand some of his disgruntlement, and he wondered why on earth the Executor had sent a lieutenant instead of doing the job himself. Was the Councilor about to be demoted several tiers? It looked like that was going to be the case. Well…he was pretty sure a lot of Primarchs were about to get the axe after the foolish stunt they made.
-TED-
Alecto Mraz was having a pretty good time. He was just sitting at the bar with the rest of his squad, enjoying some fine Grayson liquor. Sure the Graysons were pretty uptight most of the time, but they made damn fine liquor. And Waffles, pretty damn fine Waffles too.
Hell everything was going pretty damn fine. He was out of the hospital, took a bullet from a Turian before they surrendered, and he and his men were celebrating that fact. "Barkeep more drinks!" he said lifting up his empty glass as his squadmates roared with approval.
He was grinning like mad, happy as hell to be alive when his squad mates started to quiet down. Confused he looked at his friends, who were apparently watching as something approached him from behind.
"Short Stuff," A gruff female voice said from behind him.
He growled, he was not short damn it, so what if he just barely passed the height requirements to get into the military. He turned around to shout at the woman only for the words to die in his throat. The woman was gorgeous. She was tall, almost seven feet tall and well let's just say she was well endowed in all the right ways. Her hair was a golden blond, her eyes were burning blue and that dress complimented her tastefully muscled figure well. He had no doubt in his mind that this woman could tear him limb from limb if she had half a mind to. "Erm…Hi."
"You have yet to properly thank me," the woman said crossing her arms.
"I..beg your pardon?"
"You owe me your life. I want a date. Let's go Short Stuff," she said grabbing the scruff of his jacket and lifting him up, carrying him away from his friends.
He just gave them a bit of a grin and a wave as he was carried off. Hey, if a badass Amazon wanted to snag him for a date he was fine with it. In fact, he was pretty damn fine.
-TED-
Fleet Admiral Faith Harrington eased herself into her command chair. She was getting far too old for this, but she'd been pulled from retirement for just this mission, something about the honor and prestige of their most decorated military commander being there when they needed it. She wasn't an idiot, she knew the real reason she was here.
If the shit hit the fan, she was the one who was going to have to fight off the rest of the galaxy's navy as they made their way back. There were no bases between the Citadel and the nearest human colonies, so she had nowhere to fall back to if things went south. It would take all of her tactical skill to make sure she got everyone back. She knew the reports from Shanxi showed that in long distance engagement her ships had the edge, hell even in energy range she had the edge, but she hadn't survived this long without planning for the worst.
Who was to say that the enemy hadn't realized the weakness of the fore and aft weapons arrays, or the fact that their shielding did not protect the front and end of the warships as they moved. All they would need was to get a fighter inside of her ship's gravitic wedge and that vessel would be a sitting duck. She wasn't going to take any chances, especially with the ambassador that was on board.
"Admiral, the fleet is ready to move."
"About time," Faith said pursing her lips as she looked over the four hundred superdreadnoughts under her command. Those vessels, and their screening elements as well as the fifty LAC Carriers made her fleet one of the largest in human space. Almost three million people were under her command, their lives depending on her tactical skill. It was humbling, and she wondered why she had wanted to retire.
Oh yeah, the blood and death and loss of friends. Still, there were many on board for the first time, going through their snotty cruises, and she was definitely going to ensure that she got as many of them as she could back to Alliance space.
It had taken them six weeks to get the Second Fleet formed once more, and it would take another month before the fleet arrived in the Widow Nebula, until then she was unsure exactly what could happen, but defenses throughout human space were being readied in case the Turians attacked again. Humanity was mobilizing, and a united humanity was a juggernaut that could not be stopped.
-TED-
Flag Lieutenant Joseph Papadopalous was not pouting. He wasn't. He just didn't see why he had to personally deliver these papers to the ambassador and miss seeing his admiral in action. Come on, it was Faith Harrington, one of the best military minds for the last two centuries! He wanted to learn as much as he could from her before she retired again. He couldn't do that if he was running all around the superdreadnought delivering messages.
He knocked politely on the door of the ambassador's quarters and was calmly told to enter. He did so and snapped to attention.
The ambassador was sitting in his desk, patiently looking over several documents and comparing them to the alien codex that the Quarians had given them. Blue eyes focused and determined.
Admittedly, there was also the sound of a crayon running along paper, which Joseph was trying to ignore."Yes Lieutenant?" the ambassador said, looking over at him. That jarred him out of his rather surprised state.
"The fleet has begun moving ambassador, and Admiral Harrington would like to give you the list of marines she felt you'd like to have in your security detail. Also, she would like you to attend dinner with her this evening if time permits…and she wonders if the translator is working well."
"The translator is working fine. I look forward to using Kelish. It's such a fascinating language. Tell Faith that I'll be there," he said in clear dismissal as he accepted the dossiers.
Joseph flushed but gave the ambassador a salute and promptly left the room, heading back towards the flag bridge. He understood now why he had to see the ambassador in person. He appreciated that Admiral Harrington saw fit to forewarn him of the ambassador's peculiarities. This way he wasn't going to look like a fool in front of all the senior officers, though admittedly he couldn't wait to see what everyone else's reactions to the ambassador's presence was going to be.
It seemed the rumors were true, Admiral Harrington did love to prank her officers, and this particular prank he was going to enjoy being in on.
-TED-
Codex:
Arch Class Colony Ship: During the early days of Man's Diaspora, Colony vessels were sublightspeed cryo ships travelling to distant stars. Since they would be completely cut off from the rest of humanity, the ships were designed to give the colonists every advantage thought possible. After Earth's Final War and the development of better hyper space technologies, the Arch Class Colony ship instead now serves as the primary start up base for newly established frontier colonies. Boasting a capacity for roughly 1.5 million people, and large enough hangar space to dock several destroyers, Colony ships also serve as a decent defensive installation for fledgling colonies.
Artillery Ship: Warships based off of a modular design. While capable of engaging in close range combat, Artillery ships prefer long range bombardment, preferring to launch several hundred missile pods before vacating the area. They serve as excellent support ships and are highly customizable.
Biosculpting: Humanity has long been interested in bettering their appearance. Beginning in the early first century Diaspora with plastic and artificial augmentation, Biosculpting now focuses on extensive nano surgery to receive the desired result without needing to include plastics or other artificial means.
Parmley Station: A space station designed around ancient amusement parks like Disneyland and Coney island built by Michael Parmley. The station received little financial success and the family was stranded there for several generations. Ultimately, a group of slavers partially seized the station after several stand offs with the Butre clan, Parmley's surviving descendants. The slavers used the base as a way station until early 20th century Diaspora when a Beowulfan special forces team seized the station and turned it into a covert fortress for Beowulf's anti-slavery efforts.
Repair Ship: Though technically a hyper-capable ship, Repair ships are actually mobile repair yards capable of servicing fleets deployed behind enemy lines. They have some manufacturing capability, though not as much as a dedicated space stations.
-TED-
I know, I didn't further the plot that much in this chapter, it was more wrapping a few things up. Next chapter is going to be a whole lot more fun, I promise. Anyway, drop a review, they make me feel warm inside.