August 16th 2161. Terran home system. 10:00. Terran standard time. The senate building.
Leo's ears were ringing with the noise that half a thousand senators make when they are all shouting at the same time. In the corner, sitting on his lavishly plush chair, the speaker had decided that his services would not be required this session and had taken the opportunity to catch some sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly with the intake of breath.
"NO, NO a thousand time NO! It's bad enough that we take in every beggar in the galaxy, it is bad enough that we have already given them one ENTIRE SYSTEM, but to give them two more? Have you all gone mad?"
The senator received scattered cheering and applause from some seats, jeering and boos from others.
"Like we need those systems. The biology is completely incompatible with ours, no amount of terraforming will change that. Why not give them to the Quarians? We might actually make something out of them instead of just mining and resource collection."
Again, scattered cheering and jeering. The last two days, following the Empire wide announcement that the Quarians had petitioned the Empire for protection against the Citadel oppressors in exchange for vassalage, the entire Earth government had been in uproar. There had been no plans or contingencies for this eventuality. No one in the entire history of the empire had thought that an alien species would willingly submit to humanity and accept them as their rulers.
The ministry were desperately trying to find out how to deal with the Quarians. Were they to be considered equals? Inferiors? The emperor certainly thought that they should receive full status as citizens of the empire, and a good deal of the senators agreed. But after they had received a message from the emperor demanding that they be made full citizens, all contact with the man had been cut off. No one had spoken with him in days.
The senate on the other hand were trying to decide the extent of the Quarians territory, the funds that should be allocated to the fleet, and how much they would receive the following years. The first estimates were staggering, at least a few trillion denarii, and the amount of resources needed to repair and upgrade their fleet would severely dent the human ship production for months, if not years.
"It's not a matter of who can make the most use of it, it is a matter of principles. If we start handing every viable system over to the Quarians, along with the money and resources, then we destitute ourselves trying to help them. We conquered those systems, we put human lives on the line to explore those systems. And we are just going to give them to the slave race?"
"They aren't slaves. They are equal members of the human empire. The Emperor has accepted their request and granted them asylum within our government and nation. The rights of man demand that we help them to the best of our abilities."
"But they are not 'men' are they? They are aliens. They don't even eat the same food as us. They don't even drink the same water. Why should the rights our ancestors fought and died for apply to extraterrestrials? They don't give a damn about Earth or our people. They just want to grab our resources and money."
"I suppose you would make them all work in the mines then? Toil in the dirt for meager profit? They are just as much people as you and I. We owe it to them to provide them with security and peace."
"We owe them nothing! Where were these aliens when we were alone and frightened? Where were they when we were tearing each other apart in war after bloody war? Where were they when we were on the edge of annihilation, thousands and thousands of rockets aimed at each other?"
"Surely you cannot blame the Quarians for that? How would they even know of our existence?"
It had been like that for hour upon endless hour. Everyone was talking, shouting and yelling, trying to get their point across. Each argument would be directed at one senator, only to be answered by another. There was no semblance of coordination or coalitions. The parties had no official plans or policies and so, each senator was left to themselves. They voted based on their own ethics. Thus far, they had managed to agree that the Quarians were vassals and therefore a part of the empire. As to the nature, the size and the importance of that part, they were still discussing.
"Gentlemen, it would seem that we have diverged from the actual nature of this debate. Should we, or shouldn't we, grant the Quarians rights to use human technology, military and civilian, to further their species standing?"
Leo had completely lost track of the goal of the meeting, and he was surprised that after seven hours of debate, they had still not moved from the first order of the day. How had they even begun talking about further colonization? He tried to make his voice heard over the din.
"Where is the Emperor? We need to know his view on this matter."
Every eye turned to Kiel, who just shook his head.
"I have been unable to reach his majesty, he is away to settle important matters I am informed."
More important than this? Well they might as well not have shown up at all, he would just overrule every decision that they made, so their work would undoubtedly be futile in the end anyway.
He was beginning to see the wisdom possessed by the speaker, and promptly followed his example. It would do him little good to continue his participation in this debate. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. This was going to be a long week.
August 16th 2161. Widow system. 10:00. Terran standard time. The citadel council's private chambers.
Sadra was shaking with bottled up anger and contempt. The humans had granted asylum to the Quarians? Hoe dared they! They had ignored a direct citadel edict that had stood for hundreds of years, enacted by herself, that denied the Quarians right for asylum and colonization. Apparently the humans, not content with making the council look like complete and utter fools during negotiations, would now directly ignore the citadel and its edicts.
"Have the STG made no progression at all in locating the human homeworld and fleet? Are they truly so inept at their profession that they cannot locate an entire star system?"
The comment was aimed at her fellow councilmember, Vedra Inostre, who simply took it in his stride, unfazed by the harshness of the Asari councilors voice.
"The humans have been able to conceal the system of their origin. As they do not travel using conventional means, most of our ships and scanners are unable to locate the hub of human activity. We have, however, been able to locate a good portion of the estimated strength of the human fleet. We now believe that they possess seven small dreadnought, five hundred cruisers, and two-thousand frigates."
That calmed her down a little. Even combined with the Quarians fleet, they would still be no match for the collected citadel navy. A navy that had steadily increased in size over the last few months.
But still, there had never been any question that the citadel was vastly superior to the humans when it came to military strength and economy. It was just the fact that the humans continued to be so pathetically blind to this themselves, and refused to submit to the superiority of the Citadel, and it's just and wise council.
"Could this be a ruse to provoke an attack from us? No one in their right mind would want the Quarians as a part of their government. Of course, if they make slaves of the Quarians then they could gain a significant boost to both their fleets, and their economy."
Markaus scratched his chinplates with his talon, an odd habit of his when he was contemplating, and looked expectantly at the other councilors, waiting for their response.
Inostre shook his head.
"Or scanners show that the human vessels are of a good quality. They are equal to, or in most cases, superior to Turian and Batarian ships. However they are inferior to Salarian and Asari. They do however carry a lot of firepower, even if their shields are of a lower standard. It would devastate the human economy if they attempted to uplift the Quarian fleet to the same level."
Sadra smiled at that, perhaps the humans would be dumb enough to destroy their own economy trying to outdo the Citadel. It was too much to hope for, but then again, the humans did not seem like the most thoughtful race they had ever encountered.
She spoke again, this time her voice was calm and soothing, trying to win over the other councilors.
"Perhaps we should not act at all then. We continue to deny the Quarians rights of colonization and we allow the humans to wear themselves out trying to uplift them. It would seem that we stand to gain more from this, than the humans do."
The others nodded, caution and patience would win the day here. Not superior arms.
"Then we should address the next matter on the agenda. Our markets are being flooded by cheap human copies of patented Asari, Turian and Salarian technology. As much as it pains me to admit this, our economy is taking a beating. It seems that most citizens would rather save their money than pay for superior wares."
This was true. The last month or so, Citadel space had been flooded by cheap human knock-offs of patented technology. As much as she hated to admit it, these proved quite sufficient in getting the job done. Be it omni-tool upgrades, engine and computer programs, or any other such technology. Initially the council had not seen this as a threat. But as the sales of wares exported from their own markets continued to plummet, the economy was starting to plummet with it. The overall growth in Asari space had only been one-point-two percent this quarter. An intolerable low number compared to pre-human-contact where anything below an average of two-point-two percent had been considered very bad news.
Inostre scrolled down on his datapad and his eyes quickly skimmed whatever text he was reading.
"Yes, their tech is inferior to our own, but many of the private corporations seems content in settling for less. Our investigations show that it now takes the humans a fraction of the time previously needed, to produce a copy. They spend less than five days producing a copy of our Mark XV Synthesized skin-weave. It is only about twelve-point-eight percent less effective than our own, but it is purchasable at a fifth of the price."
The story was the same in Asari and Turian space. To counter this development they had introduced extra tolls on imported wares from human territory. In response, the humans had dumped the prices to half of what they previously had been, thereby actually making their product cheaper than before. Inostre assured her that they could not keep up with this, since it would surely create an enormous deficit. But her own advisors had told her that it was more likely, as demand of the cheap copies rose, that they would be able to streamline the process and production, thereby making a small, but noticeable, profit in less than half a year.
Of course the council had tried responding to this blatant disregard for council patents by ignoring the human patents. This had not proven effective, since the humans, apparently, had already dumped the prices on wares sold to the citadel species in the first place, and as a result, citadel copies could only be sold at about the same price. And due to the tight control within human space, and the mistrust the humans had for aliens, the products of any Citadel species in Human space was viewed with mistrust and contempt.
Markaus looked up from his own datapad.
"Could we ban trade with the humans? Would it be possible to introduce sanctions on sales of human wares?"
Inostre shook his head.
"Such an act would damage the economy even more. If we immediately cut off trade with the humans, then all tech support for their wares would be lost. More than elleven percent of the private sector utilizes human products in some capacity, and it would take at least a week to replace them with our own, and at a staggering cost. The projected loss in credits would exceed two-point-five trillion across Citadel space and would cost more than fifteen million jobs in the short run."
Sadra's information agreed with Inostres, although hers were less conservative. But she had another idea. It was drastic, but it was necessary to save the council economy. Or at least give them time to counteract the humans aggressive 'invasion' of their market.
"If we introduced a toll on products coming into, and out of, the territories of the lesser species, and at the same time introduced an extra tax for military upkeep, then we could bring in the extra funds needed to prop up the economy."
It would not be popular. The Hanar, Elcor, Batarian and Volus would probably all reel against this action, but they had prepared for that. If they would not pay the extra toll, then there would be no trade, and they would soon have to open their markets to council again anyway to sustain their own economy. It was a short-term solution that would secure the council species economy, thereby give some security to the private sector. It would give them enough time to figure out what to do about the humans.
As for the tax for military upkeep. The Turians had finished production of another Dreadnought, in record time, and had three more under construction. Both the Salarians and the Asari also had another dreadnought in the docks each, although they both preferred to focus on their cruiser and frigate production. All in all, the increase in their fleet and army would require a great deal of credits to finance. And since it was in everyone interests to keep a comfortable distance to the human fleet, they would all need to pitch in to make sure that the production and upkeep went smoothly. Of course, since the client races did not have large fleets themselves, for the most part, they would have to sponsor the production of 'protection fleets' that would be specially made to guard their systems.
It was all in the name of common interests. The humans had shown themselves to be volatile and unpredictable, the Hanar and the Volus had even petitioned for the permanent garrison of at least one dreadnought group in their home systems to deter any attack from them, and therefore they needed to be shown that the council would not tolerate such wanton disregard for the treaties and edict enacted by the council.
"The client races will no doubt object, but we cannot allow them to simply rely on us to protect them. If we are to keep our fleets in space, guarding their planets and ships, we need more credits."
The other agreed, although Inostre did not seem pleased.
"This might create dissent amongst them, they will not be pleased."
She simply scoffed at this. The citadel was the single largest organization ever to have existed. It provided safety, growth and wealth for all its members. It could tolerate a little dissent amongst the lesser races, she had seen it before. She knew that no one could match the might and strength of the Citadel. No one.
October 22th 2161. Scilia system. 10:00. Terran standard time. On the surface of Megalodon.
Mazar stepped onto the surface of Megalodon, the newest planet given to the Quarians. It was a large planet, mostly covered in water with only a few islands scattered across its surface, but the planet was so large that the surface area of these islands meant that it had more square kilometers of land-surface than Earth. Of course, it was a dextro-amino world.
The gale was quite forceful, he had to expend considerable energy to remain on his feet, but the initial scans showed that it was teaming with life and minerals. Although, it was all located on the bottom of the huge oceans.
He saw the enormous machines rolling out of the belly of the gargantuan transport ships. This was the fifth planet that the Quarians had been allowed to settle, with the assistance of human, and they would commence mining and farming immediately. The humans wanted profit and results at once. A sentiment he could understand.
"Make a perimeter two kilometers in diameter. Place the transportation hub on the northeastern edge, put the living areas in the southwestern end."
He pointed the humans in the directions he needed them. They immediately complied, heading towards the indicated areas, giant machines in tow.
Submitting to the humans, had to be the single best decision the Quarians had ever made. He suspected that they had some kind of ulterior motives for advancing them so quickly, but with the speed they were establishing, he couldn't care less.
Apart from the five planets, all of them either type one or type two dextro-amino worlds, they had been given resources, money, facilities and assistance. The colony on Cennoc had grown to become an economic hub. With the humans help they had managed to build large cities housing the people, farms to fabricate food for the masses, factories to produce goods and luxuries for the, previously, destitute Quarians. In just four months they had gone from being a species on the run, to possessing five colonies, each of them quickly becoming a financial success within mere weeks.
Not only that, but their fleet was being repaired, or at least a large part of it was, and they now possessed the first fully functioning completely repaired ships, with a few upgrades, that they had owned in centuries. A hundred cruiser class ships with their mass drives replaced with human sub-space engines to allow them to travel more effectively through human space. They even had new human sub-space guns on board. It was not much, compared to any other species, but it was more than they had had in a long time.
"How soon until you can have the first ships out digging for ore and fish?"
It was the human magistrate, he hadn't bothered learning his name since they changed so fast. They accompanied the Quarians anywhere, marking their progress and the expenditure of the colony. 'keeping the books' as they liked to say.
"At this speed we will have them out the day after tomorrow. Depending on how fast you can land them, and if we can find enough crew to man them."
The small Quarian population had become a problem. They simply did not have enough people to fill all the jobs that were being created. And the human/Quarian government kept pushing for more jobs and more factories, mostly to establish a healthy Quarian economy, but also to be able to compete with the Turian market which the humans saw a real possibility in. Indeed, several Quarian-made products had already had a huge success on the Turians own home market. Their years of imprisonment on the fleet meant that they had become quite efficient at getting every scrap of viable resource from any field, farm or mine that they came across. This made them masters in creating utilitarian machinery.
"We can call in some of the Auxiliaries to fill out as crew members until we can ship in enough people from Cennoc."
The Auxiliaries were one of the clauses of their vassalage to humanity. The Quarians would, amongst other things, hand over a total of five-thousand ships, including crew, and fifty-thousand volunteers as engineers and technicians. It had not been difficult. Hearing that the Humans would grant them aid, planets and systems, and hearing about their ships and technology, it had proven more difficult to reduce the numbers of volunteers to the fifty-thousand.
"I would estimate that we need at least ten-thousand to make this colony an economic success within the five months we have. Are there even that many available?"
Mazar shook his head.
"No. All the auxiliaries are either employed on human ships, or have already been allocated to another colony to establish defenses."
The magistrate made a note on his multitool before surveying the rest of the colony.
"There is supposed to be room for forty-thousand people here. Are you sure that you don't need more room?"
Mazar smiled behind his mask. Despite the positive relationship they had developed with the humans, who seemed determined to make the Quarians an independent species despite their status, they still did not understand each other very well.
"We have spent years confined on our ships every hour of every day. We could have room for twice that here, and still have some to spare."
The man just shrugged and made another note.
"Alright you're the boss. But I'm marking it down, so if this gets botched up it's on your head."
He could live with that. He was determined to be worthy of the trust the humans placed in the Quarians. They had been made equal members of the nation, although their government was under human authority, their people were worth the same in the eyes of their leaders. He would make sure that the Quarians would do their part.
October 24th 2161. Sol system. 17:02. Terran standard time. The imperial palace.
Augustus was sitting in his private chambers. Michael was reading the data on the machine hooked to his arm, checking his blood pressure and other vitals for any irregularities or fluctuations. A month ago, Augustus had been released from the secure, and highly secret, private facility in the Alps where he had been under treatment after an angina attack. He had been there for almost a month before he had been released, enjoying the hospital's many luxuries facilities while he had been recovering.
He had of course objected to his forced stay at the hospital, but both the doctor and Michael had been adamant that he remain under observation and spend the time recovering and resting. Michael had insisted that the Empire would continue functioning in his absence.
But now that he was back, having read a hundred reports on the progress of the projects that had been running while he had been confined to the facility, he had been pleasantly surprised to see that the senate and ministry had managed to work together and had accepted the Quarians into the empire. He had half expected them to declare the Quarians a subservient race. That had, fortunately, not been the case, and by all reports the Quarians would be an essential part of the human economy, its military and civilian sector within a year or so.
But he had another plan now. Next phase of his 'master plan' was to be set in motion. He had, despite the wishes of the doctor, not been able to completely let his work lie. He had used some of the time to perfect it. Especially, he had conferred with one person in particular.
As Michael removed the machine from Augustus, he received a call that told him that the person in question had arrived at the palace.
"Show her into the small conference room in the Arthurian wing. Make sure that no unauthorized personnel are near the room. This is a private conference."
He did not bother waiting for confirmation. He fully expected his orders to be carried out to the letter. He quickly smoothed over his clothes and left his chambers while Michael removed the machines. Exiting his room, he was quickly surrounded by four praetorians, who then escorted him to the room. He marched through the long hallways and galleries that led to the opulent Arthurian wing and burst through the doors into the small chamber, where Anne Ferdanow was already waiting for him.
"Operative Anne Ferdanow, your last report did not answer my question to a satisfactory degree. Are your agents ready, or are they not ready for the proposed action that I specified. I need a straight answer. Yes, or no."
The woman looked uncomfortable, she hated not being able to do her job to her rulers satisfaction. His demands were not unreasonable, but she had felt unable to answer him on this question.
"My lord, what you ask is… Unconventional and have not been covered in any of our tests and training exercises. Your observations are not wrong however."
He leaned forward. His attention caught.
"So what you are saying is that we, in theory, could do it?"
There was a long pause as she thought about the possibilities, considering not only the assets at her disposal but also those that she would have access to through the project, something she no doubt had done repeatedly since he had sent her the message.
"Well… Yes. In theory."
Augustus' face lit up in a beaming smile. He slid over a datapad he had been hiding in his gowns. She took a quick look at it, her expression of mild confusion changed to one of sheer delight.
"And have you managed to locate an individual who can assist us in achieving our goals?"
She nodded again.
"Yes. A certain warlord Warnok Krong. He has spent much of his life either fighting as a mercenary, or leading his clan in conquest across the galaxy, mostly as a private army. He is an outspoken critic of the Citadel council, although his diplomatic skills leave something to be desired, he has agreed to assist us. Indeed, I think he was quite eager at the prospects of your plan sire."
Augustus was pleased to hear that his plans were advancing so well.
"Then you have my permission to commence operation "Heated conflict", the necessary funds have been allocated to your office."
Augustus was suddenly struck by an idea.
"The agency does not have a true name yet does it?"
She was caught in mid motions, half-way scrolling through the datapad that he had given her.
"No sir. We are still not a registered agency and we have no real designation."
He did not know if it was some kind of childish fantasy, or maybe it was a real desire to create an identity for the men and women who would risk their lives in the service of the empire, but he acted on the impulse.
"From now on, you are to be referred to as 'The Black Legion'. If they are going to put their lives on the line, at least they deserve to be recognized as soldiers. I will have uniforms and weapons designed for them. You will focus on making them ready for this."
He tapped the datapad.
"From now on, you will only contact me once per week with a report on your progress. You have received enough funds to sustain you for three years. A group of private firms have also been put directly under your authority. You will produce your own armor, ammunition and equipment. No contact will be made by the agency to any human authority. You are dismissed Ferdanow."
She quickly left the room, leaving him alone. He had devised the idea as one of the last steps of his master plan of destroying the Citadel council, all of it without firing a single shot, slowly demolishing their foundation piece by piece.
He made a note on his datapad, and began writing his next speech. As he left the conference room to head back to his private chambers, he had already contacted many of the news agencies, both human and alien, that were scattered across the globe. A press conference would be held in a few days. And all of the galaxy would like to hear what he had to say. Now they were entering the critical phase. Only time would tell, if they would be successful in their endeavor.
October 26th 2161. Widow system. 15:29. Terran standard time. The Comaire lounge.
Sitting in the luxuries Comaire lounge, the ex-consul Norman Connors was waiting for his old friend, ambassador Liam Cunningham. He had been invited by Cunningham to come to the citadel for a meeting, and he was not one to shy away from an opportunity like that. Although he was no longer a consul or a senator, he still wielded considerable power both inside and outside the government. Indeed, his clever investments and purchases had made him more wealthy than ever before. So of course the man would try to reconnect, it was the only sensible thing to do.
He had been guided to a private booth, rigged most likely, and some alien liquor had been placed on the table. He only waited for the Asari waitress to leave before he poured a generous amount into his glass. He then proceeded to wait patiently.
Two minutes later, Cunningham arrived.
"Liam, old friend. How have you been."
He shook his hand forcefully, trying to discern his purpose for this meeting. He resumed his seat, Cunningham sitting down on the opposite end of the black metal table.
"I assume this isn't a social call to your old friend".
He smiled, still trying to figure out what this was all about. He had tried to gather information on his previous associate, but had come up empty. There was simply no information to be had that was not already widely available. That alone told him that he was doing something interesting.
"Quite right my friend. I apologies for not inviting you here sooner so that you might enjoy the hospitality of our alien hosts."
He made a dismissive gesture, trying to look friendly.
"I have been too busy anyway, and by the looks of it, you have been busy too. Now, let us cut to the chase. Why have you contacted your old friend and associate."
The Ambassador looked into his glass as he contemplated his position. Connors knew that Liam needed his help for something, so he was in a strong position. One he intended to exploit.
"Well Norman, as you are without a doubt aware, there have been certain movements which has gained a significant support both inside, and outside of the senate. I have heard to you have established close ties with these movements."
Ah. So he knew about his support of the Republicans. Well, there was nothing illegal in supporting the republicans, if you just made sure to hide which ones you were supporting.
"Yes. I confess that I share some of their views. I have reason to believe that a change in the structure of our government would be advisable and profitable for the future of the human race."
It was true. Ever since he had been ousted from the senate by the upstart Augustus he had plotted his revenge. Everything had been ruined when he assumed power, even more so when he tricked the senate to giving him even more power. He had become a tyrant and a dictator. He needed to be replaced.
Cunningham raised his glass in a salute, a devious smile forming on his lips.
"What if I were to inform you that there are people on this station, people in power and of great means, who share you sentiment."
This was an unforeseen, albeit fortunate development for Connors. He had thought that Cunningham would have supported such movements. But the way he said it made him think that he was referring to someone else.
"And these people, are they interested in supporting the movement? Or are they content to simply remain on the sidelines of it all?"
Cunningham swirled his glass, looking innocent.
"Indeed they are taking a very proactive part in the movement. Actually they have promised quite extensive aid and support. They only have a simple request to make."
"Indeed? And what might that be?"
Cunningham leaned back and spread his hands, now devoid of the crystal glass, an innocent yet amused expression on his face. It took half a minute before Connors caught on to his meaning. He refilled his glass as he pondered how he might profit from this development.
"Well then. If one was to follow a course of action that would allow such an eventuality to take place, then I am sure that a man in such a position would need some persuasive skill to win over the senate."
And that was why he needed Connors. After his somewhat forced retirement, he had worked tirelessly to regain his power and influence. It had been more than two years before his plans had begun bearing fruit. Two years, millions of denarii and hours of tedious and tiresome dinners and meetings with various groups and spokesmen. But finally, the ever shifting balance of power had started to change from the bastard Kiel, back into his hands. Of course, the emperor tricking everyone to give him power, had been a decisive turning-point in his plans.
"Yes I imagine that one would. Or, possibly, one would need influential friends who possess such skills."
"And what would said friends receive in return.
Cunningham took a moment to ponder this before replying.
"Well one could receive immense compensation for supporting such an event. The post of liaison would need to be filled. And possibly that of the Prime minister, or even the honorable position of Consul."
Well then. There was really no question what he would answer then, faced with such and advantageous change of his current position.
"And how would all of this be done then. Surely the party does not possess such influence. And surely our mutual friends would not consider something unwholesome."
Cunningham's eyes grew hard as he looked at Connors.
"As long as you are ready when we come calling, this will turn out to be very profitable for both of us. Why does it matter what happens to get us into such a position?"
Indeed. This had turned out quite a lot better than he had expected. As an answer, he raised his glass in a toast. A toast that Cunningham returned.
October 26th 2161. The Widow system. 18:12. Terran standard time. Councilor sadra's private apartment
"… And so it is with great pleasure that I announce that the Human Empire, and the Quarian protectorate have decided to create closer ties with that of the enigmatic Krogan race. We believe that it is the right of every race to choose their government, and to decide upon their own internal affairs. The Citadel council have enacted harsh sanctions upon this race, and we believe that it is time for them to be lifted."
Sadra could not believe her ears. She was watching her vid screen intently, her hand gripping the crystal glass she had halfway brought to her lips.
"… We have initiated closer ties with the honorable Warnok Krong, who have been campaigning for the rights of the Krogan to control their own system. While we do not wish to go against a direct edict from our esteemed associated of the citadel council, we urge them to reconsider their sanctions on this race."
She had to suppress a laugh. Like the humans cared for any of their edicts. This only went to show their arrogance and stupidity. They truly believed that the Krogan were capable of reasoning? That the human's support would alter the politics of Tuchanka a bit? Truly, they were beyond anything she had ever experienced.
"Therefore, it is with happiness in our hearts that we announce our alliance with the government established under the honorable Warnok Krong, who will form the unified Krogan coalition government."
Sadra spat out the rich wine she had just been consuming. WHAT!
"We recognize the efforts of Krong and his clan to unify his race, and to stabilize the planet. We therefore secure their legitimacy, and recognize them as a true nation worthy of sovereignty. We will defend them against attacks from any other foreign power, and also secure their neutrality in any conflict not of their making outside of their system."
Sadra angrily flung the bottle of Thessian bluewine against the vid screen, shattering both.
Lore: The armies of the Empire.
The Praetorian Guard.
Numbers: As of 2161 there are 6.400 men in the Praetorian guard.
The Praetorian Guard is the single most deadly, most effective and most loyal infantry fighting force ever to have existed. They have one sole responsibility to perform. Protect the Emperor.
Created shortly after the rise of Arthur Tiberius, the Praetorian Guard was initially a regiment of Veteran soldiers from different regiments chosen for their skill and loyalty. But after his death, his successor elected to refine the process.
Due to advances in genetically engineered children and human augmentation, it seemed more prudent that the ultimate fighting force of the galaxy would be specially chosen not just from birth, but would be modeled into the perfect soldier even before then.
Each Praetorian is the product of 'perfect' human genes. They are altered to be bigger, better, faster and stronger than anyone had ever been before. With these genetic codes injected as DNA, they are grown in vats, and immediately after their 'birth' they begin conditioning for their thirty years of training and augmentation that will transform them into Praetorians.
Receiving medication and injections from birth that will make their bodies capable of receiving the implants necessary for them to become super-soldiers, until the age of five when the true training begins. They receive their first glandular implants that will help develop muscles and extra brain tissue, amongst many other things, which will help them remember their hours of training and exercise while the body changes to accommodate the muscles that will be tempered though months of training and field exercise.
At the age of ten, every Praetorian have already gained proficiency in many of the weapons that humanity can field. With an almost photographic memory they are able to recall every minute of their training until this point. Here they receive their second batch of augmentations. These will help shape their bodies through the years to come. The next five years is the most critical in Praetorian training. As they go through puberty, the body is either going to accept, or reject the implants. In the case of rejection, the prospect will have no possibility of joining the ranks of the Guard. In most cases they then move on to join the 1st legion as grenadiers instead.
If the body accepts the implants, then the Praetorian will grow to well over seven feet, the muscles, organs and brain all grow with the young man, preparing him for the next phase of his training.
At the age of nineteen the prospects have been dwindled down to one fifth of the original number. The rest have either performed too badly, died, or have not reacted well to the dozens of augmentations and implants that they have received throughout their training. Through the next eleven years, they go through the most arduous training that they have experienced so far. Zero-G training, dessert planet hiking, tundra world trench warfare, deathworld single survival skills, ship to ship boarding actions, below surface combat and dozens of other such exercises.
At the age of thirty, there are less than one out of twelve left. But these are true Praetorians, having won the honor of guarding the leader of mankind through more than a quarter of a century of training and conditioning. These are the best warriors humanity has ever bred. Faster, better, smarter, stronger, deadlier. There is no one capable of killing a Praetorian in single combat. And each and every one of them are sworn to protect the emperor with their lives.
Equipment:
The Mark I "Hive" assault rifle.
The "Hive" assault rifle represents the very best, and most expensive, weaponry humanity has created so far. With a 3.000 RPM and a magazine capacity of five-hundred rounds, the rifle can fire both in Zero-G, under water, airless environment and any other places they might be fielded. They are the single most hard-hitting weapon available, the force of impact is capable of shattering even light tank armor and so have excellent armor penetration skills. Their explosive and corrosive bolts will make a mess of any soft targets they come into contact with and are easily capable of killing even Krogan with a single shot to the chest. But the weapons also possess a unique feature. Their 'hive' ability which let any 'marker' rounds that find a target able to act as a beacon for the semi-smart ammunition which will then fly towards the threat to eliminate it.
The Mark II "Exterminator" hand gun.
This large pistol, like the "Hive" assault rifle, represent the very best of human engineering. Firing semi-nuclear-bullets, the blast from the impact of the rounds fired by this gun is capable of completely vaporizing an enemy combatant. The enormous recoil from this weapon is so large that even a Praetorian would be unable to utilize it without the aid of their armor, and so wide circulation of this weapon is prevented as no one but a Praetorian would be able to utilize it. It has one major drawback however. With a magazine capacity of five bullets, and each magazine weighting a kilogram, the amount of ammunition that a Praetorian can carry is limited, even with their enhanced strength.
The Mark I "Bulwark" armor suit.
This suit of armor is large, but elegant. The connects directly with the Praetorian via some sockets that has been implanted in the Guard at a young age. The armor is an intricate work, accessing the pilots neurological network, allowing the man to look through the eyes of the armor, feeling its shell like it was his skin the pilot and the suit are as connected as the MECH suits are to their pilots. The armor augments the Praetorians strength and endurance beyond anything preciously possible for a human being. Even when the pilot is close to death, the armor administers medications, adrenalin and other necessary drugs to keep him fighting long enough to finish the job. The armor also has several shield units attached to it, each powering a different part of the armor's shields, allowing for a much higher stress durability than other infantry based shield projectors.
A/N
Well i initially hadn't planned on this chapter, but seeing how the next chapter developed i thought that i needed a bridge between them. So this was more or less a gathering of ideas and lose snippets of text i had written. Hope it didn't show to much in the writting. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to Brodur for beta reading once again, and hope you all take time to review some ideas or advice. Until next chapter :)