Chapter 6 What's Done is Done
Commissioned by MaceShepard
Written by BloodRaven
"You ready you birds?!"
"Ma'am yes Ma'am!" A thunderous boom of voices returned.
Mirax raised her pistol, "Come on then!" She sprinted from the armory bunker that the latest wave of militia had assembled in and lead the counterattack. They'd taken a beating the last hour, but the hostile advance had slowed as they were bogged down clearing each building of defenders in room-to-room fighting.
Mirax had some cards left and she was playing a desperate one. The support staff and administrators were trained to military standards but weren't formally classified as infantry.
When needs must, solutions arise. Hundreds of soldiers emerged from the armory's various exits and charged towards the surrounding buildings. Firing, suppressing, and maneuvering to relieve those besieged within. Mirax didn't join them, instead helping manhandle a heavy machine gun out into a third story embrasure to direct its fire into the nearby terminal, enemy infantry having set up in the glass-walled observation floor, fired down on her soldiers.
Ascadia hefted up the heatsink then connected the coolant line with the main cannon, "Ready!"
The roar of the machine gun deafened everyone, although one wouldn't expect it from the triumphant whoops as the gunner sawed down half a dozen enemy snipers, shattered the floor's windows, and sent scurrying away the enemy survivors from their elevated position.
He stopped when among the militia wave turians with jump packs rocketed into the air and landed on the newly cleared observation floor.
Mirax, satisfied with her direct contribution, returned to her primary duty. She went into the armory's command center and nodded to the team of asari and salarians waiting for her. They all stood ramrod when they caught sight of her, surrounding a holotable showing real time footage of Hempher Primary School.
"What do you have for me?" She asked with a slight twitter to her voice, still ecstatic at her counterattack.
The lead asari huntress, Jules, pointed towards the footage, "Supply dump and command post." The footage rewound to show a heavy bulk lifter landing in the sports ball field and disgorging tons of equipment while picking up wounded in return, "They've been massing equipment and supplies for the last two hours and setting up a strong perimeter. We've linked units attacking us using this as their primary supply depot." More footage with VI assisted link showed that indeed their hypothesis was likely correct.
"Our problem is finding a way to infiltrate their lines, they have at least a battalion in reserve and guarding the roads and center itself." Bena rapid fired as he brought up several of their already discussed ideas, most of which had been discarded as being too risky or too slow.
Mirax nodded, "Have you thought about the service tunnels? They've been flooded recently."
Jules nodded, "We gave it a thought but it's a big risk considering the narrow nature. It'd be really dumb of them to not guard them."
Bena cut in, "The water temperature is close to five degrees Celsius, we'd have to discard our hardsuits and use wetsuits. Less shields, less armor." He agreed with Jules.
Ascadia limped in, "Asca', how were the tunnels when you were in there?"
"Uh… flooded? I didn't see anyone else down there, only a single one of their drones, why?"
Mirax placed a hand on the school cistern, "You don't need to infiltrate their lines directly, get here and place a big enough explosive charge, and set it off right under their noses."
"That's a lot of infrastructural damage ma'am. No guarantee we can get a big enough bomb there either, we'd need at least a couple tons of explosives." Bena explained.
Jules nodded slowly, "Well, if we finish flooding the cisterns, and do it to dangerous levels while closing the water valves, we can use the water itself as a high pressure addition, can't compress the water, it'll be like a torpedo hitting a ship. Since the subway and sewer tunnels aren't flooded at all, it'll be one giant sinkhole!"
Mirax smiled, "Then that's what we'll do."
"To all citizens, civilians, and inhabitants of the League, as of 2245 Greenwich mean time two days ago, the Reserved World of Shanxi was struck deliberately and unjustly by an alien force known as the Turian Hierarchy. In their brief time on the planet, they unleashed a code green on the world."
Vincent Trujillo was not what one would call a conventionally attractive man when on the job. Melding man and machine with his flagship, he had socket ports across his entire body where tendrils would interface with his nervous system. Shepard couldn't help but stare at his bald head, straight into the socket port on his forehead that was slightly open, showing the gleaming skull underneath. It was like a bullseye that the camera operator was fixated on.
"Most of the planetary garrison was killed in the fighting or retreat alongside the Turian invaders. We are still investigating the extent and reason for the outbreak." He shuffled his tablet and after a brief moment of reading refocused on the lens.
"In retaliation, we have apprehended or destroyed the bulk of the Turian fleet that has infringed on our sovereignty and are currently in the process of securing our border against further incursion. So far we have seized several worlds without a major engagement and are currently on the cusp of victory for several major colony worlds. We have taken the relay junctions in the hinterlands and we are highly confident that the Hierachy's technological prowess is on par with our own."
He looked so self-assured, so confident. It was a front obviously, body language these days was meaningless unless you were a carrier or uninfected. Too many body mods completely rewired your underlying biological programming. The sway of a hip or scrunching of the eyebrows could mean nothing or it could be the body correcting an itch bothering your arse.
You know, Ashter was right, getting drunk made this entire incident feel numb. Ants was dead. Little Ants was dead. She'd seen the photo, "complete cranial intrusion" he had a fucking railroad spike sticking through both ends of his head.
She'd seen the photo, but a part of her brain refused to believe it, she didn't see his face. His helmet and his breathing repertoire were in the way.
But that was his helmet, his name, his DNA in the report.
Ants was dead.
"Currently only five ships of the Turian fleet are unaccounted for, and we are working tirelessly to arrest these criminals for their actions so far." Trujillo concluded his prepared speech to the dead silence of his audience.
The camera didn't move from him when a person off screen shouted, "How can you be sure that we aren't entering a dark forest scenario!?"
"From preliminary intelligence reports on the political makeup of the Turian Hierarchy, we can assure you and people everywhere that this war will be over within two years as long as we don't do anything foolish." Trujillo replied automatically, "I personally led the fleet evicting the Turian for es from Shanxi and found their forces spirited but insufficient." The room got louder with more and more questions. Trujillo tapped his tablet and then looked at his audience as they grew silent.
Shepard's phone thrummed in her spine. Immediately in her peripheral vision, a request to open government mandated reading material flashed. She began reading, much like billions of people were doing across human space.
Trujillo, for all his military decorum, did not believe in keeping his species in the dark.
"We're almost at Buckingham sir."
Ashter tumped the driver's cabin, "Excellent. Hazel, close that and look at me." He looked at her and sighed, "No fuck ups girl. Mouth shut, prim and proper."
He met her glare without a visible care in the world, "Look at me girl, we just lost the crown prince, your family will eat you alive if you embarrass them right now. I'm not talking about disownment, I'm talking back of the shed and shot like a dog after a lengthy period of rejection syndrome. Dozens of your cousins are more photogenic and more obedient than you just waiting for you to get hit by a truck. So if you want to live, suck it up. If you don't you can open the fucking door and jump to the pavement below."
Morakot Rungrueang watched the battle unfold on the holo table. The citadellians were putting up a spirited defense for the relay but had begun to evacuate as soon as their scoutships had been detected.
That had been a smart move considering their predicament and opposition. Fresh from capturing a Hierarchy drydock, the capture of the Horse Head Nebula Relay pair was essentially a victory lap for Trujillo.
Her sponsor poured Ranguerung some tea, "Anything new?"
Taking the tea gratefully Ranguerung sipped, "No miss Goyle. The fleet wargames went off without a hitch."
Representative Anita Goyle frowned, "Which means the Serpent Nebula fleet is on their way as we speak."
Anita's junior nodded emphatically, "Our intelligence assets in the Citadel have reported that the bulk of the fleet has left the Nebula and are on their way. Hundreds of ships ma'am." Ranguerung touched the side of the projector showing fleet reports at several relay junctions. Nearly a thousand ships were making full burn towards the Horse Head.
Anita's frown didn't waver as she studied the numbers. She had auburn skin and dirty blonde hair, glowing green eyes that pierced your soul, and middle eastern features. Ranguerung considered herself lucky she had attached her star to such a meteoric career.
The only visible modifications Anita had made to her body were the cybernetic eyes and interface ports visible on her neck and wrists. The magazine front cover model for a baseline human, if one could be said to exist for the infected.
"What is…" Anita cut herself off as she thought.
The young thai also liked her boss because she was very competent and thought things out thoroughly before speaking. She trusted her judgment, and that was more than she could say for many in her own family.
Ranguerung handed Anita a sealed envelope, "From Admiral Trujillo himself ma'am." She carefully studied her senior's features as she ripped it open and read.
She made an intrigued hmmm, "I'll be damned. Man has more sense than I gave him credit for." Anita pulled open the incineration bin and stuffed the letter inside, "Get your things ready dear. We'll be speaking with the citadel fleet as soon as it traverses the relay."
Ranguerung nodded and gulped the last of her tea down. When the porcelain cup was placed on the holotable a new signal flickered on it. The minelayers set to work, depositing their woffs in great clouds.
The woff awoke.
Dozens of eyes across its ball-shaped body snapped alert, double eyelids constantly blinking to protect the visual organs from the hostile environment of space.
Its tail fluttered and then burned into a plasma jet as instincts took over and it left its mothership. All around its cousins did the same, enthusiastically fleeing from one another as they sought out friends. Friends it would bump into and then hug and cuddle around. Its rearmost eyes thought it saw a friend, but blinking it identified it as nothing more than a danger, I should get away from danger, it thought.
Its eyes all saw more possible friends before identifying them as dangers, flying away from them just as the dangers flew away from themselves. Ahead it saw the mass relay, a tuning fork object with a bright glowing blue eye. It was beautiful, but- danger! Don't go through there!
It stopped two kilometers from the mass relay and upon seeing no friends entered torpor. All around thousands of its cousins floated in space, entering deep sleep awaiting something to call a friend.
The Magellanic cloud of woffs formed an organic minefield, nearly indistinguishable from the debris and detritus of space. Awaiting the signal to return to their motherships, or hug a friend in mutual annihilation.
Twelve hours later, the relay activated as a small flotilla of salarian frigates entered using stealth drives. Nearly a day earlier than expected from their human hosts.
The woff awoke.
Floating in space nearly four kilometers from it was the sleek form of a friend. Happily, the woff reignited its tail, it'd need to feed soon from a mother orb, but it found a friend! It'll hug it and cherish it and pamper it-
The woff impacted the side of the STG frigate Julai'ir. The only indication the crew had entered a minefield had been the ignition of the woff's fusion tail. By the time the crew responded it was too late, the woff "hugged" the frigate with a resounding klang, breaking several fluid membranes. Hydrochloric acid mixed with Genetic Compound A181, a chain reaction swept the woff's body as it exploded.
The Julai'ir's starboard flank was coated in hyper-acidic goo, melting the stealth panels and armor plate within twenty seconds. Fifty seconds after, the segregated antimatter fuel bunker was compromised and jettisoned. Too late. It had drifted five meters into a still-fresh globule of acid, exploding with all the force of matter and antimatter meeting.
The Julai'ir, in its effort to evade, was impacted by five more woffs seeking a comrade and friend, like newborn puppies, they charged forward and killed the crew with kindness.
The Excala suffered a similar fate, transitioning into the path of five woffs which had been drinking from a mother orb, they happily charged straight into the bow of the ship within ten seconds of detection and caused the engineering compartment and reactor to be vented to space, the entire ship dissolved into a flash of antimatter explosions.
The STG flotilla was thrown into confusion as half their number were destroyed almost instantly by an unknown form of mine despite their emission control technology negating all useful forms of detection by radar, heat, and light.
All throughout this, the 55th Special Mission Fighter squadron detected the explosions, and in two minutes had detected the salarian ships using organic visual detection methods. Giant telescopic eyes developed specifically to counter said salarian stealth technology in full expectation of this event.
Without waiting for orders they initiated a full fusion burn towards the remaining salarian ships, loosing a volley of torpedoes.
The salarians were already dodging the mines all around them, so it was a forgivable user error that they didn't realize the half dozen strike craft approaching them weren't more mines. The salarian kinetic barriers were stripped by the disruptor torpedoes, and then their outer armor paneling was shredded by the sporadic gravity fluctuations of the torpedoes' eezo warheads.
By the fourth minute of the engagement, the salarians beat a hasty retreat back whence they came.
The destiny Ascension finished its FTL jump to the Horse Head Relay to be greeted by what remained of the picket force. Mostly the conglomeration of several Turian patrol flotillas but also dozens of merchant ships and private shuttles, Matriarch Merinda Kell felt her heart leap into her throat at the battle damage they had suffered.
Most sported crippling levels of damage on their hulls. The arcs of lightning and welding torches illuminated the horrific scars and burn marks on their hulls so that their superstructures gleamed underneath like bones sticking out of a body.
Commander Eyrane Kitara watched her commander officer patiently, and when she received an acknowledging nod spoke, "Ma'am, we're getting a signal from an STG patrol right now."
Merinda sighed, "Bring it on my screen, please. Let's see what they've got for us."
The ensign nodded politely and tapped at her holo station.
As soon as her terminal made a secure connection the humorless face of a greyish salarian met her eyes, "Matriarch Kell, this is Lieutenant Jopar. We regret to inform you that the enemy have already completed mining operations on their side of the relay and are aggressively patrolling it." He grimaced, "We lost several stealth frigates in our attempt to traverse the relay. We'll have to wait for another strike team to infiltrate their lines the long way."
Merinda smiled pleasantly, centuries of diplomatic training and experience kicking in to smother her pain and disappointment, "I'm sorry to hear that Lieutenant. Thank you for your candid report."
He nodded politely, "On the bright side ma'am, it seems they were just as surprised to see us as we were to see them. If I were to hazard a guess they have likely tracked your progress from your anchorage," he checked his omnitool and counted down, "and now it's all over the news you've reached this relay. My professional opinion ma'am, expect them to expect you. If you have further need of our services, do not hesitate to ask." With that he switched off his camera, cutting the feed and leaving her with his written report and gathered intelligence for his whole five minutes on the other side of the relay.
Merinda's polite smile continued for a long minute as she screamed internally.
'Fuck fuck fuck!' She chorused as she processed what he said and skimmed his data.
Shakily she stood up, "Commander Kitara, you have the bridge."
"Aye ma'am, I have the bridge." Kitara echoed.
Merinda entered the officer ready-room and activated the quantum entanglement communicator. She didn't have to wait long for the council to receive her call.
Councilor Tevos smiled kindly, "Matriarch Kell."
"Councilors. The enemy has taken the Horse Head Relay and repelled our forward STG reconnaissance force." Merinda uploaded Jopar's report and carefully observed her superior's reactions.
Tevos looked grim and Sparatus aghast, but the Salarian Councilor, Ohern, simply stared at her report quietly, "We've lost the Nebula."
The other two councilors looked over to her.
"Joska, Iyrlia, and Kantomine are still reporting resistance." Sparatus argued.
Ohern shook her head, "Kantomine has resorted to asymmetrical warfare. All primary patrol stations have been destroyed or captured. All fleets have broken off contact or have been confirmed captured or destroyed. We've lost five hundred ships, twenty stations, and fifty colonies."
Tevos cleared her throat, "Are you saying we should not attempt a trans relay assault?"
"No. We should gather all our available forces and evict them from our space as swiftly as possible." Ohern growled, an unusual thing from the amphibious species.
"You've just pointed out everything of military value has been seized or destroyed." Sparatus pointed out, "Why shouldn't we attempt negotiations now? There is no military value in continuing hostilities, indeed we all have much to lose in colonial ventures and lives if we escalate."
Ohern looked confused, "I'd expect the Turians to be all enthused about continuing this war. After all you seemed to have started it." Spartacus glowered as Ohern continued unkindly, "We have accurate celestial charts alongside discharge infrastructure allowing us the chance to retake the nebula and envelope this human fleet. We cannot afford to look weak on the galactic stage, especially before the Terminus systems. We have the advantage in terrain and infrastructure. These humans have fought a well executed campaign but they're overextended."
Sparatus was about to speak, but Tevos preempted him, "I appreciate your points, but we should at least attempt diplomacy before executing our counterattack. At the very least we should hear the demands of the humans before fully committing ourselves to a possibly costly campaign."
Tevos looked straight at Merinda, "Do you think it's feasible to establish a dialogue with these humans Matriarch?"
"Yes ma'am, I have eight dreadnoughts and the Ascension with us right now, we could deploy two of the lighter dreadnoughts to screen us and absorb any mines or preliminary fire long enough to send a request for negotiations. If the STG reports are correct we could also signal an open willingness on all news channels to discuss possible negotiations."
Tevos hid it well, but Ohern and Sparatus looked a bit uneasy. Signaling negotiations after an unprovoked full scale invasion of an entire relay cluster would be perceived as a terminal weakness on the Citadel Council's part. Like it or not, Ohern had a point that an invasion of this scale and complexity couldn't go unanswered. Even a negotiated settlement would have enormous public uproar about the lack of hard fighting the three nations had conducted.
But if they initiated negotiations and the humans were incredibly lenient in their terms, returning all the overrun territory intact, and both sides played a public relations campaign highlighting the human's own grievances with the Turian Hierachy's unprovoked invasion, it could save millions, perhaps billions of lives.
Or they could try to traverse the relay and open negotiations through gunboat diplomacy. It seemed the humans didn't favor dreadnoughts the same way as other species did, their largest identified ships were their strike craft carriers or enormous unwieldy strategic artillery that seemed to act as arsenal ships.
The councilors looked at one another.
Tevos nodded, "Do it Matriarch."
The three dreadnoughts traversed the relay simultaneously. Due to relay drift their previous stately formation had been scattered so that the destiny ascension was four thousand kilometers behind her two escorts who were themselves separated by ten thousand kilometers in a random arc, on opposite sides of the relay.
Across all three ships, guardian arrays stood to in preparation for the mines that had attacked the STG recon flotilla earlier that day. Thousands of said mines and their human operators were detected, and the crews of the three dreadnoughts, one from each council race, marveled at how life like they moved through space, but unlike the frigates before them, the cloud of suicide bomber puppies kept a respectful two-kilometer distance, any that tried to approach bouncing off some invisible barrier.
"Thats a good sign." Kell breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Indeed." Matriarch Benezia echoed.
They both observed the fleet of hostile aliens on their sensors. Hundreds of ships were arrayed in position to counter a trans relay assault. Kell spotted what she thought was the flagship, holding the rear of the formation, it looked more like a space station than a ship capable of faster than light travel with the mass effect. It seemed to have three primary modules, the central span that housed the massive thrusters connected by thin pylons to a pair of massive nodules giving off exotic readings even from this distance.
"Ma'am we're getting a communication request from the enemy fleet."
Kell waved, "On my console please."
"Greetings. My name is Admiral Trujillo, I am the commander of this fleet. You are currently entering an active warzone. If you are here to negotiate on behalf of the Citadel Council, respond in five minutes. This message will repeat."
Benezia breathed a sigh of relief, "The goddess watches over us."
"'Bout time she started," Kell mumbled, stepping aside for Benezia to take the console.
"This is the Destiny Ascension, flagship of the Citadel Council fleet. We wish to initiate negotiations."
Silence reigned for an agonizing minute before a new voice spoke, "Destiny Ascension, my name is Ambassador Anita Goyle, We'll be conducting discussions on your side of the relay. Would you rather me and my team board your ship or transverse the relay in our own ship?"
"What the fuck is that!?" Someone shouted as a skull faced monster looked just as surprised to see the commando team, and reacted with just as much speed as the twitchy salarians.
"Medic! We need a medic!" His wingman shouted as the skull faced creature dove away, missing an arm from a close range shotgun blast.
Mirax cursed, "Bena talk to me, did you set the charges?"
"Yes ma'am! We're evacuating now."
"Well hurry, the humans are realizing something is wrong up top." Mirax watched the live CCTV feed as the humans looked up in surprise and grew visibly agitated.
"We'll need at least three minutes to get clear ourselves!" Bena shouted, and Mirax agreed. They couldn't exit back where they came, they'd be turned into blood sausage from the hydrostatic shock. They had to get up and out.
Firing began on everyone's helmet cams in the underwater nightmare, "They're coming out of nowhere- By the spirits!" A creature with a head full of tentacles and the shape of an asari leaped from a drainage pipe and grappled with the Turian who was weighed down in the murk.
"Detonating detonating!"
"What no no!"
"Belay-"
The line went dead. The overfull cistern exploded and collapsed.
Above ground, the impromptu sinkhole sucked the school down alongside dozens of humans and hundreds of tons of equipment. Secondary explosions ripped through the hole's abyss as explosives and ammunition sparked, caught fire, and cooked off.
Mirax exhaled a breath, feeling like she was going to vomit.
"Ma'am, humans across the city are falling back. Units we detected as resting and rearming have stopped their march." Someone reported, but it felt like it was miles away.
"Good, good. Resecure our perimeter and await the enemy counterattack."
A beeping noise started to grow in intensity, "Ma'am…. Goddess."
Mirax looked up bleary eyed and felt the desire to cry and vomit renew. Bombardment. they were going to bombard us after all. The telemetry strands began to solidify from "anywhere in this postal code" to "Here's your mail!"
She closed her eyes as she saw half a dozen allocated just for her headquarters.
The ground rumbled and carefully she lifted her lids, "S-Sitrep?"
"All projectiles…. No not projectiles drop pods!"
Screaming began, even through the walls, radios alighted with reports and visual feeds.
"What fresh deep is this?" Mirax said.
Her eyes fell on one video feed in particular, a pod the size of a bus landed side-on of a road. Explosive bolts blew out the panels and giant yagh-like gorillas emerged. The squad opened fire on the first one, tearing flesh and shattering bones, dropping it as it clambered out. The other twenty in the pod however roared a challenge and charged forward.
They were dressed, strangely enough, with skin-tight pants and shirts, providing some form of ballistic protection as pistol rounds were visibly absorbed. Within ten seconds they had caught up with the squad and she closed the feed both visual and audio as they were torn limb from limb.
She changed to another feed, this one showed a courtyard in the business district, the central fountain merrily gurgling away as an array of pods, perfectly arranged around the fountain opened up revealing racks of ammo and equipment that the invading infantry all around happily taking their share of supply, laughing and joking with each other.
The walls started to rumble, gunfire and rage shaking the concrete frame, "Deploy the tanks immediately!" She shouted into the dead silence of the command center, reigniting a flurry of activity, "Get the heavy machine guns on overwatch, infantry snipers ready, fucking any armor or vehicles we got, move it move it!"
Mirax pulled her own rifle out and checked its parts for any damage or error, she was hiding, hiding because this wasn't exposed to happen.
Distantly in her mind, she saw the camera feed that showed the renewed assault of alien invaders, sprinting down the streets and alleys shouting and screaming, their monstrous tanks in the vanguard and combat mechs taking the rear.
All around the spaceport garages opened and a fleet of light tanks emerged to combat their organic equivalents in a pitched battle, their high velocity cannons shearing limbs and tearing open chest cavities while the organic monsters tore up concrete chunks, lifted vehicles, and tore away building siding to use as shields and projectiles.
High above in the sky, the attempt to intercept the drop pods by her air assets had been capitalized on by their dogfighting opponent, who swooped in with pairs and trios to isolate, box in, and then shoot down their targets.
Looking at her watch, Mirax knew she didn't have a day longer in her force.
Benezia gave Kell a concerned eye as the Matriarch fussed with her uniform for the tenth time in the last hour, "Relax, you're not a maiden anymore."
Kell sneered at her uniform and released it after a moment's indecision.
"They can't make it any more blatant." Kell scoffed.
It had been two hours of prenegotiations, followed by twenty minutes of shuttle preparation, and then an hour of "incompatible system configuration". Now the negotiations themselves were still stuck on translation software difficulties.
Benezia barely nodded her head, "It is frustrating, but their performance is excellent."
Ambassador Goyle was currently tinkering with a tablet device with her second, a "Ranguerung".
The most shocking thing about seeing these "humans" for the first time was how asari-like they were. Their females looked almost exactly like asari in general terms, they had a different skin color and texture, and instead of a head crest, they had some fur or hair type atop their heads and fine cilia-like follicles that Quarians had across much of their bodies.
Their males, the few they had seen without helmets looked almost batarian like, but Kell and Benezia had to admit, if Asari had biological males they'd be a shoe in just like their females.
The welcome eye candy had however quickly faded from long years of experience and interminable delays, "Apologies Matriarchs. Our equipment was not as tested as it should have been." Goyle announced with a cultured smile that had a bit of teasing in it.
Benezia nodded, "As I was saying earlier, our first step should be to organize an armistice and end this bloodshed. No more have to die."
Goyle nodded calmly, "I agree, but we require certain guarantees before we're willing to halt our advance."
Benezia nodded, "We understand that, and we're willing to facilitate any such guarantees you may desire. But you must understand it will take us time to ascertain the fate of all the ships you demand restitution of."
Kell took her cue, "And it'll be politically inconvenient to have human agents mapping all our military installations as your demands suggest."
Goyle's smile didn't waver as she reached for a tea set and sipped her cup, "Not our problem. These Turian criminals will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of our law for the devastation of our colony. To do that we need visual confirmation that their surviving crews and taken intact. We know of the Salarians vaunted computer intelligence capabilities, we do not wish for any evidence to be erased by them."
'More like whatever intelligence these ships have being extracted for our use' Kell thought scornfully. 'Not like I can blame them, their video reports are damning enough if confirmed' She tacked on.
"We can attach a flotilla of our ships to your police fleets in the meantime, allowing us to take ships and crew into custody if you prefer." Goyle said, breaking Kell's thoughts.
Benezia nodded, "That's a big ask, do you trust us enough to send over said ships?" Classic move by the humans, shifting the onus of extraction and protection onto them.
"Well if our ships get destroyed or boarded we'll consider that a breach of our truce and a display of perfidy by the citadel government and initiate full-scale planetary bombardments on all population centers. We do not negotiate with perfidious governments anymore." Goyle sipped her tea again, "We'll consider that an escalation of the war, and an indication that you have no desire for further negotiations."
None of the Asari in the room flinched, although the normally undetectable hum of the Destiny Ascension's reactors was deafening.
"Is that a threat Ambassador?"
"Think of it as a security guarantee."
Benezia swallowed, an uncharacteristic show of emotion from the seasoned negotiator, "Done."
Goyle raised an eyebrow, "Done?"
"Your conditions will be met and accepted. Will this secure the armistice?"
Goyle set the teacup down while she stood up and extended her hand, "Bargained and done, Rangurang call Admiral Trujillo and deliver the news alongside our Citadel friends."
'I'm going to die' Mirax belatedly realized as another wave of squid rockets pulled a high G turn in the air and angled down towards her old command bunker. She and her staff had to evacuate it when the monstrous alien yagh abominations had basically torn the building's exterior apart.
Not five minutes later the attackers had launched thousands of rockets into the air, at first Mirax thought it a simple bombardment, that was until the rest of her aircraft had been plucked from the sky by said missiles chasing after them like goddamn jet-equipped birds.
The rest of the squids then elected to work like rocket artillery and angle themselves with disturbing accuracy toward any porthole, firing slit, or window across the entire spaceport to suicide themselves into. The screams as her soldiers were dissolved had been terrifying, the cries of the wounded all around worse.
That didn't even factor in the continuous wave of attackers that charged down the streets, hiding behind their living tanks and mech infantry as they advanced, recapturing all of the gains Mirax had made beforehand.
Everyone else in the city had stopped reporting or reported being overrun, and enemy reinforcements had barely slowed. This was it, she was going to die.
Well if she was going to die, she was going to go out swinging. She had two cards left to play.
She began sprinting forward, with no words, no firing, no flag, no heroic grandstanding, just sprinting towards a burning light tank.
Behind her, three companies of krogan and turian shock troopers chased after her. The firing erupted into a hailstorm of incoming and outgoing projectiles.
But they were just the distraction, air cars began lifting out of the garages that the tanks had emerged from, loaded with as much explosives as possible. Like the squid rockets they were guided to the largest concentrations of yagh things and mech infantry, crashing into firey explosions that shook the ground with each impact.
Immediately the alien invader's ranks started to disintegrate, as squads and individuals sought out the nearest cover, or fired up into the sky at the oncoming aircars. Only a few realized the danger of the oncoming counter attack.
Mirax raised her rifle and fired into a soldier raising his rifle to fire at her, his head explode outwards as his kinetic barriers failed. Behind her, the Krogan fired from their machine guns from the hip, scything down the ranks of infantry a t hey died or were wounded.
Mirax collapsed next to the burning tank she was aiming for, grateful all its ammunition and explosives had already cooked off, and the heat too, even as she crawled in the ashes of what used to be one of the crewmembers, she was so grateful for the heat on this frozen fucking ball.
She sighted down another opponent and squeezed the trigger, a trio of rounds pierced his shield. Then she felt something hit her side and she went flying into the red hot hull of the tank.
The breath knocked out of her, the cloth impact fiber on her back being lit on fire, she stared down the barrel of one of those invader's oversized rifles, and that maniacally grinning face of a blood-covered alien. 'They look so much like asari', was almost her last thought as a Krogan bodychecked the soldier.
Then Mirax realized she was on fire and panicked. Rolling around in the ash-covered tarmac. By the time she was sane enough to look towards the enemy again, she saw their backs, the infantry turning tail, the oversized monsters suiciding themselves on her shocktroops gunfire, and the mech infantry laying down suppressive fire as they covered their squishes retreat.
She did it. Her last two cards to play. She'd retaken this part of the spaceport. She smiled, then the voice in her ear started to pierce the veil of adrenaline that had flooded her system, "All units stand down, a ceasefire is in effect!"
Hazel tipped the cab driver with the remaining cash she had on her person. The man looked down at the wad of five hundred euro-credits and then back at her. He was about to speak up that she had given him too much when he internalized where he had landed his shuttle.
Five hundred feet away was the Shackleton Crater Lunar recruitment center for the Lunar Lagunari. She didn't want the money. The cabbie stuffed the wad into his dash, "Good luck to you miss. Be careful now." He closed his shuttle's door and lifted away back into Lunar orbit.
Hazel didn't hear him.
It'd been a bit of a bitch to get away from the crotchety bastards in Buckingham, but she still had her ways of getting around unnoticed when she didn't want to cause a scene. Take a straight razor to the face, carve up some flesh so that the automated cameras didn't recognize her, apply some "Odoure de Privete" masking perfume to her sweat glands to spoof the sniffer dogs, and she could walk right out the front door like any other tourist.
All it took then was taking her allowance in unmarked bills and buying a seat on a ferry to Luna. London had them depart the spaceport every thirty minutes, so as soon as it lifted off Ashter would be looking across an entire country on another goose chase.
Hazel approached the Lunar Lagunari recruitment station. It was the night cycle for Shackleton Crater, and the streets were relatively empty. There were still crowds of people, protestors, counter-protestors, and jingoist patriots. All forming a cauldron of mixed ideas on what the hell to do with the first contact of the "Council".
Hazel knew what she wanted to do. The jingle of a brass bell heralded her entry, the quaint sound of the hunk of metal even gave the princess pause to stare at it, "Mhmmm, Welcome to the Lagunari recruitment station. If you're here to drop off your conscription papers… Oh, I'm sorry."
Hazel met the eyes of the recruitment Captain. The human female was an unnaturally tall and slender specimen, with fire red skin, glowing golden eyes, and a bald head. The only way Hazel knew she was female was from the biological scent her brain was feeding her. Everyone had a distinct, or as distinct as possible, scent to differentiate themselves from a crowd, or identify themselves in some fashion. Usually, in her experience, it was the "Hey wanna fuck?" scent, but some people liked to wear their gender or ideology on their sleeve to prevent miscommunication before a conversation even began.
Hazel realized with a bit of embarrassment, god how that was foreign to her, that her privacy musk made her seem shady at this hour.
The woman stood up, "I don't recognize you, my name's Captain Dale, are you here to register as a new resident?"
Hazel shook her head, "No I wish to enlist."
Dale raised an eyebrow as she sat back down in her chair, "Well I won't judge, you aren't the first today. Name and registration?"
"Hazel Shepard." She slid her forged ID onto Dale's desk. The ID she used when she wanted to go incognito around town.
The recruiter took the card and slid it through her computer's scanner.
Then did it again, and frowned. She examined the card in her hand, "Odd. Your card is sending me a few errors. Do you have your vital information ready ma'am?"
"Uh, yes."
"Alright," Dale produced a tablet, "Fill out these forms then, please. When you're ready, we can go over contract options.
So began the surprisingly involved ordeal of signing up to fight and die for one's country. With every step Hazel grew steadily more paranoid that Dale knew she was the crown princess of Britain but she was determined to keep going. Any moment an automated program could flag her file and inform Ashter that someone was accessing her files on the moon, and someone claiming to be her was at this office.
An irrational paranoia, even if he threw aside caution and decorum it'd still be a two-hour odyssey to get to Luna. From contracting a shuttle to getting clearance to land at podunk Shackleton Crater.
"Alright Miss Shepard. We have a two year, four year, and other variable contracts. Since you've received an administrative exemption from the conscription office I'd advise you to take a two-year training and accreditation contract first, and if you don't like the military life you can be on your way with no bad blood between you and the government."
"I'd like a ten-year marine contract please."
Dale's smile grew a bit wooden, "Ah hah, ma'am, respectfully, marine service is very intensive. You'd need to consent to a full body reconfiguration, including military discipline and modification erasure. I can see you already have lumen-tattoos and some nonstandard organs in you. You'd have to give them up."
Hazel tried to meet Dale's eyes, "I consent."
Dale nodded, "Very well, I'd advise you to at least sleep on it and consult a career professional but if that is your decision." She typed into her terminal, and the tablet in the princess's hand lit up.
"The contract is binding as soon as you get on the shuttle to boot camp, you can renegotiate in case you reconsider." 'After speaking with your family' was the unsaid addition to that statement.
Hazel didn't even read the twenty page contract, she skipped to the end and signed, then clicked the 'are you sure, you haven't read the document' check box that popped up.
"Welcome to the Infected Citizen's League Marine Corp. Lunar Lagunari Division." Dale stopped smiling and sighed, "Whatever it is you wish to run away from, your past is your past. What's done is done. As soon as you're on that shuttle, you won't be whoever you were, you'll be just another recruit in our armed forces." They shuffled the tablet back into its caring station, then gave Hazel the most empathetic look she'd received in the last few years of her life, "Do you wish to stay at our complimentary barracks in the meantime?"
"Clever girl."
Hazel spun to face Ashter, leaning nonchalantly against a storefront's smartglass window, his smile was dangerous, showing an array of razor sharp teeth. He stared at her, and despite his casual demeanor, he loomed over the heiress like a mountain.
Looking up at the man, Hazel's defiance wilted as he merely stared at her, unblinking.
Eons seemed to pass between the two, the stretch of silence was an agony that Shepard was entirely unused to. Threats, physical persuasion, mental and social screw-tightening, she felt she was ready for that. The silence though, that was alien. That was unexpected.
Her youthful rebellion crumbled, "I…. I…."
"I what? I fucked up? I ran away? I decided to be the biggest pain in the fucking arse possible to embarrass the family? Girl, did you think that an idle threat? This isn't Queen Lizzy the second's reign, girl. You're the face, everyone looks at you, your face was plastered across the entirety of Earth net the moment you stepped onto Luna. The fucking Sun and Guardian are right now putting their AI tabloid trash generators to work making articles about how you've joined the fucking army now."
Hazel didn't know what to say, and in a rare moment of wisdom beyond her years, kept her mouth shut, "Your grandsire is so damned pissed, I think he'd just about allow me to do whatever I wanted right now." The razor tooth smile retracted, the second row of steel teeth sucking back into his gums with an audible snikt.
"So… why the Marines?"
Hazel swallowed, "Ants wanted to join the Marines."
She blinked away the sudden tears that formed, breaking the dam, "He-he wanted to be royal marine! Stupid, stupid Ants!" She swallowed the bile in her throat, "He's… He's dead!" The tears streamed down her face now, "If he can't be a marine, I'll bloody well be one, and be the best fucking one this goddamn century."
"Well, that means being more ladylike."
Hazel swallowed, "What?"
"It means being more ladylike, not being a fuck up, not being in the news every goddamn month." Ashter clarified.
"I… what-"
He growled, "Yes or no Shepard."
"I- I will-"
"I will sir!"
Shepard swallowed her first response, "I will… I won't be a fuck up, sir."
He smiled, "Good. Remember Shepard, you break this promise, it won't be a bus that catches you first."
Author's notes: So originally I was going to have Ascadia die but still succeed in not capitulating before the ceasefire. However, as I wrote it out here, getting her back broken literally and seeing the Canadians retreat seemed a more fitting end.
I'll note I have no idea if the sinkhole idea would work in real life, and yeah, everyone in that cistern and surrounding tunnels died of overpressure.
Next chapter is straight to mass effect 1. Since recapping the entirety of shepherds career is less interesting than seeing the repercussions play out in a completely different setting.
Chapters 6 and 7 will be dropped simultaneously, so if you're confused, its not because you're having a stroke, you're likely reading them out of order.