H3 MINING PLATFORM 38
EXCELSIOR PROJECT
ORBIT OF NAXOS, INVICTUS SYSTEM
EXODUS CLUSTER
MARCH 1, 2012
Platform 38 was a larger than average space station with a dozen docking bays built along its exterior, each capable of accommodating everything from small to medium-sized vessels to large freighters. Most of the arrivals were supply ships bringing in necessary resources from Samothrace to keep the manned platform running, along with freighters that loaded up extracted helium-3 fuel for delivery back to the booming fuel cell industry and fusion reactors of Samothrace.
And sometimes, Doctor Gaile Fortner thought, they bring deliveries of their own. She was standing in front of the observation window, watching as a freighter went through the docking process. It was a rough cylinder of slag-surfaced metal, pocked with bubbles and lumps from the vacuum-condensation refining process. A crew module at one end with sensors and guidance systems, and rings of hydrazine steering jets.
Her eyes went past it to the view of Naxos hovering in space below them, the massive hydrogen-helium gas giant that was the second planet from the star Invictus. It possessed a bright coloring unlike most gas giants, the product of light from ionized hydrogen filtering through an upper cloud of sodium. It wasn't confirmed quite yet what caused the ionization, but Naxos' high mass and high temperature suggested that it might be a small 'brown dwarf', a large gas giant that gained nearly enough mass to ignite into a small star.
Between Platform 38 and the planet were scores of other platforms, both locally made and those constructed by the flood of volus and asari investment coming into the system. Platinum, a relatively rare metal, had been discovered in extensive deposits on Samothrace and was required in the clean-burning hydrogen fuel cells that powered private vehicles in the galaxy. Naxos' deep gravity well made mining difficult but, as the only gas giant in the system, it was more economical to mine than importing helium-3 through the mass relays.
That newfound economic clout, in addition to the USS's pacification and patrolling of a large swath of the Attican Traverse and the evacuation of just over a million drell before Rakhana's final collapse, had led to the Council's granting humanity an embassy on the Citadel just last year. The drakensis had been granted an embassy the very same day, ostensibly due to their own contributions to the galactic economy with the popularity of high quality artisan-crafted products from the Domination and their increasing influence on the galaxy's higher culture – many asari, in particular, seemed taken by their Classical-style fashions, their music, and some of their other live performance entertainments. Voices in some quarters, however, said that the Council had become alarmed at the rate at which the Draka fleets had been expanding and decided to grant them an embassy if only to get them to sign on to and abide by the Treaty of Farixen which would curb their shipbuilding to obligated numbers.
It was an open secret that the Domination was starting to build stingfighter carriers as a way around the limitations imposed by the treaty, an idea that the Council Races hadn't thought of and one which the turians were still dubious about.
Samothrace, on the other hand, didn't have the numbers to train enough pilots to maintain fleet carriers, and so was sticking with dreadnoughts as their primary capital ship. Observers with the Hierarchy were observing the turians' design and shipbuilding practices while Samothracian engineers were exploring numerous conceptual ideas and design layouts to produce warships that would provide the most bang for the smallest possible crews and resources. Anything to give them an edge over the numerically superior drakensis and batarians.
Which is what this Project is about, Fortner thought as she heard the distinctive sounds of docking clamps locking in place. She turned to the hatch as the hiss of the corridor pressurizing with atmosphere sounded faintly through the overhead vents. The lights above the door shifted from a red light to a green with a klaxon brrrrt, and the locks on the door released with a chunk sound. The hatch swung open slowly on oiled hinges to reveal three – four if you counted the newborn being held – people walking through the well-lit corridor.
Fortner stepped forward with an extended hand and a smile as they stepped through the hatch. "Mr and Mrs Fernandez? I am Doctor Gaile Fortner, head researcher here. Welcome to the Excelsior Project." She looked down at the teenage girl standing in front of the couple that was looking around dubiously, with the dark-bronzed skin, black hair and dark eyes that spoke of her Quechua-Hispanic heritage. "And this must be Chaska. I'm very pleased to meet you."
"Um... hi," the girl replied, shyness warring with adolescent annoyance at being treated like a little kid. The doctor felt a familiar mix of amusement and resignation. It was an attitude which she had become all too familiar with.
"If you will all follow me, we'll get you settled in," she continued, waving them further into the station and then leading the way. She could sense the two adults behind her starting to share the attitude of their daughter as they looked around at their surroundings. The corridor they were walking through was much like any other H3 platform around Naxos or, indeed, around any other gas giant in Samothracian space. Half-hearted lighting just good enough for visibility, metal-grill floors with wires and cables snaking around beneath, rough metal walls.
Fortner smiled as she stepped up to a door far beyond any observation ports and laid her hand against the screen set in the wall beside it. "Doctor Gaile Fortner, escorting new arrivals" she stated clearly. The screen flicked light at her eyes. A laser read the pattern of her retina; the information sped away as modulated light. Another scanned her palmprint, the abstract of her voice.
"Confirmed. Doctor Gaile Fortner. Delay, query." The AI – no, VI, she reminded herself – called inside to the security station for confirmation. After a delay, the machine spoke again: "Query, confirmed. Doctor Gaile Fortner, proceed."
The door irised open with a sough of metal, revealing a circular doorway leading into the interior of the platform. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the parents blinking around at the new corridor while young Chaska was frankly staring. It was brightly lit with smoothly painted metal walls, as well as the bars and handholds along the walls and ceiling common on any station in the event of a failure of the artificial gravity generated from the mass effect core.
"We're running this Project a differently than before," she explained. The Fernandez's had been part of the old New America Project, and had been stationed on the New America during the Fall. At the point when Chaska Fernandez had still been in utero, in fact. "Instead of drawing unwanted attention by setting up an interdicted zone, we've decided to hide the Excelsior Project in plain sight, as it were." She smiled as they passed a door where several young teenagers were sitting at their schooldesks, looking up at the vidscreen where the teacher was bringing up notes about pre-Fall history and typing them onto their perscomps. "Naxos is already surrounded by stations, so one more is hardly noticeable.
"You'll find we've still maintained this as a small community, however," Fortner continued. "The outer portion of the hull is still operated as an H3 mining operation, while the interior is dedicated to the Project. The workers are all vetted and operate under the auspices of the SSI. There is no extranet access from here, I'm afraid." A scowl from Chaska and an amused glance between her parents. "Security, you understand."
They stopped next to a window looking into another classroom where several children were seated around a table. One boy with typical Anglo-Saxon features was staring at a pencil, brow furrowed as he gestured a hand towards it. Three adults were observing, one man standing casually next to some medical equipment while a woman sat in the seat next to him, watching the pencil intently. The third was a turian, arms folded across his chest as he watched the proceedings with an inscrutable expression on his alien features. As they watched the pencil rolled slightly as he made another gesture, then he slumped in his seat and hung his head, the very image of exhaustion. The teacher sitting next to him smiled and patted the teen on the shoulder, offering him a glass of juice.
"There's a turian here?" That was the father, sounding surprised.
Fortner turned back to him and nodded. "We've heard of biotics ever since we made contact with the Citadel, but it wasn't until recently that we've discovered any humans with the potential. The greater galaxy has far more experience with them, and so we've hired some carefully selected mercenaries as experts and consultants." She waved a hand onward and they continued down the corridor.
"We're reasonably certain that the development of these biotic-capable nodules throughout the nervous system has to do with exposure to element zero while in utero. It was fairly simple to figure out once we noted the common factors between Chaska and all the others." An understanding nod from the parents; they were already aware that most of the families brought here had been stationed on New America during the war. More specifically, during the cleaning operations after the destruction of a Draka FTL ship that had been attacking the starship, collecting all the accumulated dust-form element zero along the hull. The others had been involved in other divisions that had involved research with element zero, which had almost certainly also included exposure.
A few minutes later, they stopped at a door in the residential section. "And here is your new home. It has all the basic utilities and comes with basic furniture that you can use or replace as you wish as your things are moved here from Samothrace by increments. The work and school schedules are posted in the kitchen." She extended a hand and shook hands with both adults and the teenage girl. "Again, welcome to the Excelsior Project. Your efforts will help to ensure the security of the United Systems of Samothrace."
Hiroshi Ishii, SSI agent and head of security for the Project, stood impassive, hands clasped behind his back, as he watched the vidscreens displaying the live feeds from the classrooms. His frown deepened as he saw yet another child barely move a pencil before having to stop, this one with a nosebleed. We're not going to get anywhere at this rate, he thought. The Institute's studies into biotics had outlined abilities such as lifting large objects – even people – into the air, propelling them away or pulling them towards the biotic, or even creating small gravitational vortices that could draw in enemies and debris. They were barely scratching the surface.
He turned as Doctor Fortner walked into the room and greeted her with a gruff nod. "Is the Fernandez family settling in?" he asked.
"Well enough," the doctor replied as she walked to the chair in front of the desk, waited for his nod of approval, then sat with a sigh. "The usual attitude from the prospect." A sour smile. "It's too bad that it's taken this long to discover the common threads between them. Adjustment might have been easier if they weren't into adolescence before we had to bring them here."
Ishii grunted and sat down in his chair, placing his hands on the desk in front of him. "We've been sloppy the past decade, trying to get everything built. We let the youth training camps slide because there were more crucial issues to deal with. This generation lacks discipline." He clasped his hands together. "Their terms of National Service should hopefully take up the slack."
Fortner suppressed a wry smile. Japan never had assimilated Western culture as well as they had Western technologies; there had been the opportunity to help reconstruct the Japanese during the military occupation of their home islands after the Eurasian War, but the looming threat of the Domination had forced the Alliance to bring them in as a full member as soon as possible. They never had fully embraced the Western culture of the individual.
On the other hand, he has a point, she admitted to herself. Young children hadn't had much to do during the construction of the colonies, and so had found themselves with far more idle time than previous generations had. It had led to an unprecedented rebellious subculture and, after contact with the Citadel, an unhealthy fascination with the extranet. A new youth organization, the Galactic Scouts, had been established a couple of years before to help reforge national unity among the younger generations and teach them basic survival skills.
"That will be the last family we'll be bringing in for a while," she replied, changing the subject. "We've just about mined all of the families involved in the New America Project for biotic potentials. Most of those exposed had no effect whatsoever to eezo exposure, while that smaller percentage developed health problems or suffered spontaneous abortions."
Ishii grunted again and narrowed his eyes in thought. "It seems wasteful, waiting around for pregnant women to become exposed to element zero and hoping that they fall within that small percentage that creates a biotic prospect."
Fortner opened her mouth to reply, then closed it and studied the SSI man. He stared back at her, his expression unreadable, for a silent stretch. Finally, he continued: "Having biotic capable humans would go a long way towards evening out the advantages that drakensis and ghouloon soldiers have over our marines."
"So it would." The doctor continued to study him for a long moment, then nodded and stood up from her seat. A moment of hesitation, then: "Perhaps something can be done about that."
Another wordless grunt from the Institute spook. "Perhaps." He reached over and hit a key on his perscomp, then looked back at the doctor. "Thank you for your time, Doctor Fortner. If you'll excuse me, I have some work that needs to be done."
The head researcher nodded and turned towards the door to the office, leaving without another word.
VIRUNGA BIOCONTROL INSTITUTE
WEAPONS RESEARCH DIVISION
WEST RIFT PROVINCE, EARTH
SOL SYSTEM, LOCAL CLUSTER
MARCH 28, 2012
The Virunga Biocontrol Institute was built in the hills overlooking Lake Kivu, at the southern edge of the Virunga range. Nearly a century and a half old now, almost as old as Draka settlement in these volcanic highlands. Low whitewashed buildings of stone block, roofs of plum-colored tile, almost lost among the vegetation; the gardens were flamboyantly lovely even by the Domination's standards, fertile lava soils and abundant rain and a climate of eternal spring. National park stretched north and west, to the Ituri lowlands: haunt of gorilla and chimp, elephant and hippo and leopard; of the Bambuti pygmies also, left to their Old Stone Age existence.
The city of Arjunanda lay two thousand feet below by the waters, turned to a model by distance: buildings white and blue and violet with marble and tile, avenues bordered with jacaranda and colonnades roofed in climbing rose and frangipani. Even the factories and labor compounds that ringed it were comely, bordered by hedge and garden. Sails speckled the waves, and there were pleasure boats beating back towards the docks. Silvery dirigibles and the occasional aircar floated through the air above the scene.
Charles McReady, clad in the olive-green uniform of the Security Directorate, scowled at the scene without really seeing it. Behind him a woman dressed in a white silk and gold brocade suit with ruffled shirt strode onto the terrace behind him, hands resting on her gunbelt holding one of the new Tolgren pistols that utilized mass accelerator technology. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun, streaked with silver. She stepped up to the railing next to him and leaned one hip against it, folding her arms and watching him with a slight curve of her lips, a slightly mocking expression.
McReady looked at her and, seeing her expression, his scowl deepened. "Gods curse it, Shirley, not a word."
She shrugged her shoulders in response and looked down towards the city below. "There is a certain irony to th' situation," she remarked. "Yo' people pushed so hard fo' the development of the New Race. If we'd a' waited a few mo' decades, things mighta been different."
The SD man ground his teeth and slammed a fist onto the railing. "'No biotic potential in the drakensis genome'," he quoted aloud, followed by a string of less printable words. "None in the ghouloons neither."
Shirley chuckled and quirked an eyebrow as she looked back at him. "And theah is biotic potential in the servus. Who we've mind-gelded to be non-aggressive, and so useless as Janissaries."
The two of them had known each other for a good many years, having been the proteges of Eric von Shrakenberg and Louise Gayner. They were both from the last generation of human Draka, and had risen high in their respective factions before the deaths of their mentors.
"They could be wrong," McReady said, straightening and turning towards the Conservative Senator. "They as much as admitted they haven't done as much testin' as they could on the drakensis."
"And there's a reason fo' that," Shirley responded sharply. "They the Race, Charlie. We kin test as many ghouloons and servus to destruction as we please, but not Citizens." Her eyes narrowed. "Yo' people in Skull House have always had trouble seein' that not everyone in the State has a tattoo on they neck." She met his scowl with equanimity and shrugged her shoulders. "They'll keep lookin' into the problem, but it isn't as if the War Directorate is lackin' in any case. We still whupped the turians in the last war, an' the drakensis and ghouloons are Loki on wheels as is. Biotics kin do some pretty tricks, but it ain't the end of the world."
McReady turned his head back to the view and let out a deep sigh through his nose. "Maybe," he mumbled grudgingly.
She slapped the Security Directorate strategos on the shoulder. "Come on," she said. "I heard there's a fine Tamil place down to Arjunanda. Let's get somethin' t' eat."