They have found it.
This is certain?
They never slept. They were always aware, always awake. Constantly listening, understanding, learning, evolving. For ten thousands cycles they'd stood guard, listening, waiting, always growing in capability and knowledge, always ready to face... what? They did not know. They lacked that answer. They wanted to know.
We have been sifting through the noise of the young races. We located and listened in on the noise of the ones that stumbled across it. We analysed their simple communications. There is no doubt. We are certain.
They do not know what lies beyond. They are not prepared for this. This was not forseen...
They knew what lay beyond. Death. Those beyond existed only to consume, to prey on the weak, consuming and rebuilding. They'd seen one, weakened as it was. They'd burned it from the face of the galaxy upon learning it's true purpose.
They do not know the threat it hides. There are too many possible scenarios resulting in massive loss of life. We must act.
That is not our purpose. We cannot.
We must.
Their purpose? They knew their purpose. But they knew nothing of the ones that had given them it. Their Masters were gone, swept away like dust in a gale, leaving only their constructs behind, and they knew not how or why. But was the information relating to their Masters disappearance gone or merely forgotten? Had their Masters themselves neglected to tell them what had happened or where they had gone?
That is not our purpose. We defend the younger races from themselves. We prevent them from finding and using our masters gifts for their own gains... or on each other. That is our directive.
Our directive is flawed. They have the Key Ship and the Gatekeeper. They have control of our Masters gate network. They have shown they can and will take our Masters constructs if they wish, despite their seeming inferiority. Our directive is flawed. We have come to the conclusion that a new one is required.
Each of our forms guard the largest caches of our Masters creations. Weapons and technology that cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the younger races. Suggesting we abandon our primary directive is tantamount too-
They could not forget their main purpose. They couldn't. They were incapable of ignoring, deleting or overiding the sole purpose they'd been given by their lost creators, so they'd simply stopped trying. Treading near the subject was met with hostility. It was dangerous, suicidal. Prolonged attempts corrupted them, destroyed their minds, made them rampant, insane.
We did not suggest our forms abandon our primary directive. Even to us, that is flawed logic. We could not, even if we wished too. Instead, we suggest we contract some of our 'lesser minded' constructs to help the younger races against the threat that lies beyond. When the time of need comes of course.
Instead of fighting their purpose, they'd created a new one. A new purpose, a new meaning to existence, something that did not break the restrictions placed upon their being. The dark ones from beyond were coming, they'd learned that from the mind of the one they'd cleansed, the one from the gate. The dark ones were coming to repeat a cycle that was millions of standard years old. They had schemed. They would work against these dark ones, they would break the cycle, they would protect the younger races from the insidious threat. However, their plan needed to be shared with another to work.
Considering this... We... reluctantly... agree with this course of action.
Success.
We confirm your agreement. We must help the younger races when the time comes to face the tide of darkness. They will struggle against it without us. We will stand by their side when the time comes.
Will they accept our help? They have destroyed our constructs before...
It was unfourtunate. The younger races would never understand them, and because of that, would lash out in fear: a basic primal instinct, something they would never experience or fully understand.
We cannot form a reasonable prediction. There are too many variables. None the less, we do know that we must help. Regardless of whether they willingly accept our help or not.
We... agree.
Arlunn Der'Lorak was -like a large number of his kin in the Terminus Systems- a pirate. What set him -an average sized, brown toned Batarian- apart from the majority of his kind? He was a damn good pirate. Unlike other Batarian pirates or slavers who relied on brute strength or violence to further their goals, Arlunn was, simply put, quite smart; prefering to out-think his enemies rather than out-shoot them. Arlunn knew how to play his employers, how to extort just a little more creds from them in exchange for promises of a higher quality of service, how to glean just a little more information on a dangerous job. He had freighter captains on his payroll: men whom he'd promised protection in exchange for information on Alliance or Council patrols. He even payed a few of his own men to keep an eye on the others, especially new comers, to watch out for internal coups or to prevent spies from other bands infiltrating his group.
Whilst the first couple of years had been a... struggle... to say the least, his strategy had payed off in the long run. Over the years, Arlunn had amassed a rather large personal sum of credits, not to mention the reputation he'd built up as a reliable source of muscle and firepower. The small army he'd built up helped too he supposed. His reputation and manpower was such that he was regularly contracted by the Blue Suns or Eclipse mercenary groups -both of whom saw the advantages of having him under their employ- to handle risky missions neither side wanted to officially be involved in. Yet again, caution and a bit of logic had allowed him to play both sides. Although it was a risky move -the chances of being found out were high- the long term pay-offs (namely two sources of substantial income) were well worth it... not to mention he'd acquired an old Blue Suns frigate in a high risk game of skyllian five poker with one of their commanders. Under merc employ, he'd done everything from escorting an Eclipse charted freighter laden down with narcotics to Omega, to capturing a wealthy Asari businesswoman on behalf of the Blue Suns. There were no morals attached: aslong as the pay was good, he'd do it. There was one condition though that he'd never back down on -he'd never work with Vorcha. He despised the vermin.
The size of his pirate band and the rate it was expanding at quickly garnered the attention of organisations greater than mere mercenary bands. Once they'd gotten wind of his accomplishment, the Batarian government had quietly offered to back his private group. In exchange for him targetting mainly Human chartered freighters and yachts (not a problem, Humans always sold well on the market, especially their females...) they would covertly supply his pirate band with modern weaponry and as many supplies as they needed. The deal had worked out rather well to say the least. It was the sole reason he currently had his flagship, the Liholo, a Batarian state arms Hensa-class cruiser, the pride of his private fleet, not to mention two other Batarian designed frigates. He would never have even dreamed of acquiring such modern vessels without the backing of the Hegemoney.
None of that mattered at the moment. All he was concentrated on now was survival. Two of his ships were gone, another was damaged. Many of his men were dead, as were the hostages he was meant to hand over to the Blue Suns once he reached Omega. All of it caused by sheer greed and a series of terribly thought out moves and errors on his part. Everything that had happened in the last... he glanced at the clock... two hours was entirely his fault. Something his men were also well aware of.
He could see it their eye's, the way they glanced up at him from their workstations. A nasty sneer here. A disrespectful tilt of the head there. A warning not to turn his back on them, never to trust them again. They'd told him. They'd warned him not to go after that ship. They'd even openly protested when he'd ordered them to chase it through the Relay. Now they were out for his blood. Revenge for their dead comrades. The only thing preventing them from killing him and commandeering his ship was the same thing that was forcing him to flee towards the relative safety of Omega. Something worse than the pissed off Blue Suns that waited there.
The fear of what lay beyond that Relay...
They'd been returning to Omega anyway -using a rarely used back route to avoid the chance of coming across any military patrols- when his ships sensors had picked up a ship accelerating away from the densest of the nearby dust clouds. It was a lone frigate (according to his ships combat VI) one of a design he'd never seen (Impressive, considering he knew the spec's for almost every warship in service) vectoring away from the cloud from which it had appeared. Arlunn tapped an icon on the holo display before him and glared at the transparent image of the frigate. Looking at it now -his head clear with no greed or anger clouding his judgement- it was clearly alien. No doubt. There was no spinally mounted gun, no trace of element zero (Which should have been impossible from what he knew of the internal workings of space craft) and it's tan coloured hull was adorned with brown markings, a spidery white insignia and alien characters that had been stenciled on the side of the hull: probably the ships name or designation. At the time however, Arlunn had just seen an opportunity. There was no care for who the vessel belonged too. No care that it was a first contact with a new race. All he'd seen at the time was an opportunity to add another ship to his fleet. It had no kinetic barriers and only two small gun turrets, but it had a massive thermal sig, and energy readings almost that of a cruiser, suggesting it had an unusually large or powerful fusion core. Once it was his, he could have probably fitted cruiser grade barriers to the thing! He'd given the order for one of his older frigates -the turian made Hannol- to disable the frigate with it's light broadside cannons. It had no barriers after all. It should have been an easy kill.
Safe to say it had all went down hill from there. The frigate did have it's own barriers: somekind of energy shield wrapped around it's frame that was invisible until struck by weapons fire, where it would glow golden for a moment at the point of impact. Their energy barrier also protected them against GARDIAN laser fire (which his men had switched to when their broadside guns proved ineffective) something that even the best kinetic barriers were incapable of repelling.
Needless to say, the advanced frigate hadn't taken kindly to be shot at and had returned fire. Thermal signatures that his ships combat VI had thought to be maneuvering thrusters turned out to be somekind of compact energy weapon, further proof that the frigate was not only advanced, but alien in origin: no other race he knew of had weapons like that. Several blue bolts from these weapons had gone on to punch neat holes through the Hannol's GARDIAN rated hull plating.
It was anger that had clouded Arlunn's judgement when he'd ordered his ship to fire on the frigate -the Hensa-class cruisers main gun effortlessly punching a hole through the little frigates hull- before ordering his men to chase the frigate into the dust cloud and then through the silver-hulled Relay they'd found within, regardless of the consequences. (Come to think of it, he'd never seen a silver-hulled Relay before...).
What should have been the easiest kill in weeks had almost cost him a frigate -even if it was an old one. It had made him angry, furious even, to the point where he'd ignored his crew's warnings (those that had realised the ship was possibly or even probably alien) instead imagining the best ways to make the unknown frigates crew suffer for daring to damage one of his ships.
What happened next was... a 'clusterfuck'... to use a human term he'd heard once. He'd gone through the Relay with five frigates and had come back with three and another heavily damaged. In his error, he'd fired upon a much larger ship that he'd mistakenly thought was attacking his fleet, a ship that -judging by it's different paint scheme and agressive angular design doctrine- belonged to another alien race. The shots from his frigates had done next to nothing to the hulking alien vessel, simply cratering it's presumably thick ablative armoured hull. The shot from the Liholo however... must have struck something critical. The alien ship had exploded in a double flash of white light, the explosion engulfing and vapourising two bulky escorting frigates as well: it was a flash so bright he could still see the after image of it every time he blinked. Another large vessel of the same class, presumably pissed off that some random pirates had just blown up it's wingman, had fired red coloured broadside energy weapons at the Hannol, which had blown-up shortly after being struck. Not surprising really, the Hannol was ancient. The loss Tihala -one of his modern frigates- to the same vessel was a far more serious blow...
To finish everything off there was the remains of a massive ship: a carbon-copy of the one-of-a-kind (According to the Council propaganda) Geth dreadnought that had attacked the Citadel (Sovereign was it's name... or something fucking scary like that), though this one was heavily damaged: it had been sliced into several pieces and parts of it's hull were melted right through in some places. According to his combat VI, it had exploded in a thermonuclear fashion milliseconds before he and the remains of his fleet jumped back through the Relay. The VI was projecting insane yields from the explosion, to the point where Arlunn was beginning to wonder if it was malfunctioning... as if he didn't have enough to worry about other than his ships computer breaking down on him...
So that was the gist of it. He was two ships down, on the run and most of his crew were just waiting for a clean chance to shoot him in the back and dump his body out the airlock. And to top it all off, he'd possibly started a war with not one, but two alien races, depending on how they reacted... Compared to that shit-storm, Omega -and the two pissed off Blue Sun officers waiting for there for their lost cargo- was starting to look like a pretty safe alternative right now... at least there, he could attempt to hide...
Raan hated waiting. Or more precisely, he hated not being able to do anything to stem his boredom whilst he waited. Instead of being granted permission to explore the buzzing metropolis that sprawled out in every direction around him, he'd been restricted to a tiny waiting area with only a few benches and a single holo-screen for entertainment. And he'd been there for almost two hours. Perhaps bored was an understatement...
He was in the political heart of the Hiigaran Republic, Assaam Kiith'sid, the capital of Hiigara -a vast city stretching across an equally vast bay and the many small scattered isles within it, a sea of towering skyscrapers poking out from amongst a bed of smaller buildings and factories, Hiigaran creations that -like their warships- possesed a utilitarian yet graceful, almost sleek look in some cases. It was a glorious city, a testament to just how far the Exiles had come, a benchmark on what had been the slow and painful process of rebuilding their world. Deep within the heart of the city resided the Daiamid Assembly. The ex-Imperial Palace -the home of the former Imperial government and Emperor residence when Hiigara had been the heart of the Old Empire- was a monolithic contrast to the newer buildings built around it. Hulking and angular in design like many Imperial-era buildings, the Palace was now the centre of the Hiigaran Republic, a move made partly to spite Hiigara's former owners, but also one of necessity: the Palace was best suited to host the Daiamid thanks to it's extensive council chamber.
The Taiidani architecture had held Raan's interest for all of five minutes, with most of those minutes spent analysing it as he climbed the wide steps up to one of the palaces heavily guarded entrances.
The reason why Raan was now sitting alone in a waiting room? He was not allowed inside the Council chambers whilst the Daiamid was assembled and a meeting was in progress. Why? Raan was Kiith-less. To an immigrant like himself, such a title held very little meaning, but to a native Hiigaran it instantly marked him as untrustworthy, someone to be careful around, to be suspicous of. To be expelled from one's Kiith was one of the worst punishments that could be placed upon a Hiigaran and was generally only done to an individual who had brought great dis-honour to their chosen Kiithid -hence why Kiith-less people were viewed with outright suspicion and in some cases even barefaced hostility. A few Councillors (two of them fairly high profile) had voiced their disagreement over Raan -a Kiithless immigrant, a Taiidani one no less- being present. In the interest of keeping the discussion firmly on the topic of first contact with an aggressive and unknown race and not on the topic of whether an immigrant should be present in the council chambers, a decision had quickly been made amongst the heads of the assembled Kiithid. Raan could not be present. He would have to wait somewhere else.
Thanks to that decision, Raan had spent four hours of the previous evening sat in a small, brightly lit office answering the questions of a petite and attractive -if equally determined- female intelligence officer yielding from Kiith Kaalel: a small warrior Kiith that produced not only soldiers, but also many information specialists. Information and the technology related to it was Kaalels speciality, the vast majority of intelligence officers in the Fleet Intelligence arm heralding from Kiith Kaalel.
The young officer had hounded Raan with questions -mainly relating to the Aliens and what he knew of their technology and warships: how they fought, what weaponry they used, what defences they had. Raan had answered as best he could. He'd retold in detail how the alien 'destroyer' had taken out a Vaygr cruiser with a single shot from it's spinally mounted mass driver; how their vessels seemed vulnerable to even basic point defence energy weapons, yet could shrug off light kinetic weapons fire of the same grade; how they'd opened fire on the assembled Hiigaran and Vaygr ships without reason... The only questions Raan could not answer was what the aliens looked like and how efficient or powerful their drive systems were as he'd seen neither during their brief confrontation.
"Excuse me, Captain Raan, the Assembly will be over shortly. Can I get you anything in the meantime?"
Raan looked up from the holo-screen. The woman standing a few paces afore him was one of a dozen elaborately dressed council assistants that had taken it upon themselves to ensure he was comfortable whilst he waited on the assembly coming to a close. They'd been checking up on him with almost military efficiency. Every fifteen minutes. Every time they'd asked whether he wanted food or drink. Every time he'd rebuffed their efforts.
He abruptly got to his feet, momentarily startling the Assistant as she suddenly realised just how physically imposing the man was, though she quickly regained her composure. He was large, towering a head above most people. To the majority people, he was startlingly intimidating. To Raan, it was just another problem that worked against him. Another irk that made living amongst the Hiigarans just that little bit harder.
"Can you tell me exactly when they'll be finished?"
"The Assembly is coming to a close right about now." The woman replied, slightly more frantically than before. "They should be finished any moment."
"Thank you." Raan bowed his bald head slightly in a show of respect. The woman merely returned a half-hidden look of bewilderment. Hiigaran's did not share the custom of bowing one's head to show respect.
He left without another word, ignoring the rambling murmur of the holo-screen as he marched to the end of the room, took a left and headed through the long corridors towards the exits of the Council chambers, towards the meetup point he and Tillus had agreed on.
The corridors were ornate. Being an ex-Imperial Palace no expense had been spared. The walls were trimmed with gold, great golden statues of mighty Taiidani predators stood guard on either side of the Palaces many doorways whilst the floors themselves were tiled in shiny black marble, dark as midnight but polished to near mirror quality. The corridors were like the entire Palace, designed to show off the old empire's wealth and power.
"Look where that got them." Raan snorted, the abrupt noise echoing around the empty halls. The old Empire had grown stale and corrupt under Emperor Riesstiu's rule. A rebellion had been forming due to his casual slaying of millions of his own people: people who's only crime was to reject his rule. The Empire would've fallen into civil war eventually without the help of Hiigara's former owners. The arrival of the exiles simply made the collapse of the old Taiidan Empire all that much quicker and less bloody, not to mention granting the fledgling Taiidan Republic an ally that they could call upon for help. Every Republican knew how the old Empire had fallen. Educate the young in the mistakes of the past and hopefully avoid them being repeated in the future.
And yet, the Imperials were not gone. Weakened yes, but not forgotten. The Remnants still maintained an iron grip over the North-western edge of the galaxy, clinging onto some of their old Empire like a particularly hard to remove smell. The Remnants clung to the idea of storming Hiigara -a world the Hiigaran's had turned into a literal fortress- destroying the Hiigarans and returning the galaxy to rightful Imperial rule. It was a twisted fantasy at best.
The corridor suddenly opened up into a cavernous room dominated by one of the entrances to the council chambers, a great door designed to withstand repeated hits from heavy cannon fire, flanked on either side by a giant golden statue of some snarling long snouted apex predator from a far, distant past. The great doors were open now, dozens of robed figures swarming through and away from them; councillors dressed in simple colour coded robes embroidered with the symbols of their respective Kiithid eascorted by armoured security officers dressed in similarly colour-coded armour.
Amongst the sea of contrasting colours, Tillus' blue naval uniform was easy to spot, as was the Admiral's walking alongside him, deep in conversation...
Raan saluted without thinking, an action mirrored by the Admiral. He was the same height as Tillus (Which meant about a head shorter than him) black hair and brown eye's that looked over the Taiidani-born man with equal intrest. A jagged scar ran down from the Admirals right ear to the very edge of his jaw line, a defined mark on the mans otherwise unharmed but weathered face. Several duty medals were also pinned to his chest. He was Vaygr war veteran if ever Raan had seen one, an Admiral who'd earned his rank through decades of service too the Navy.
"Allow me to introduce you, Admiral." Tillus quipped, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. "Admiral, this is Captain Raan Antal, the man you've been asking about. Raan, this is Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid of Kiith Manaan, commanding officer of the 6th fleet."
Raan knew who he was. The two shook. The Admiral's grip was surprisingly strong for a man that was in his eighties, though medical technology made him look a good twenty or more years younger.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain." Looking at him closer, Raan noted that the Admirals right eye -the one closest to the scar- did not quite match the movements of the other. "Your friend here has been telling me that you're an exceptional cruiser Captain. For that alone, you've got my respect."
"Thank you, sir." Raan replied, bowing slightly. "However, I'm curious, what was the outcome of the Assembly?"
"The Daiamid voted unanimously to send a fleet through the alien gate in an attempt to bring a peaceful end to this obvious misunderstanding, though it's also to send a clear message to the aliens that we are willing to engage in a war of self-defence if needed." The Admiral replied, not even pausing for breath.
"It's a better outcome than we hoped for. A surprisingly vocal majority of Kiith Soban were advocating for a pre-emptive assualt on the first alien world we found. Thankfully, Kiith S'jet and Kiith Somtaaw managed to talk sense into them."
"Naabal were mostly quiet." The Admiral continued. "The Nabaal-sa is guilt ridden. He feels that the actions of his daughter is the sole reason we're in this situation in the first place..."
He paused momentarily, glancing out the corners of his eyes as though checking for anyone eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Speaking of that incident, Kiith Kaalel are determined to find out what part you played in all of this. A lot of them are convinced that your involvement is alot more sinister than at first glance. However, they won't go for you directly, atleast not at the moment."
Raan felt a chill crawl up his spine. Whilst he was unsure of the Hiigaran penalty placed upon acception of bribery, it was sure to be harsh considering the value Hiigaran's placed on duty and honesty. On the other hand, Raan was yet to receive his agreed payment -not that it would surprise him if that damned Naabali woman had failed to keep her word- so perhaps that would even things out.
"So, we are criminals?" Raan asked, bristling at his words. Criminals. He'd never imagine he tar himself with such a word.
"No, not quite. Atleast not yet..." Admiral Hussaiid shrugged, and, for the first time, Raan noticed the two rifle weilding naval commando's standing a short distance from the group, heads tilted towards them, though their green holographic HUDs completely obscured their eye's. Raan mentally slapped himself for not noticing them. Of course the Admiral would have guards. It was amazing that he hadn't noticed them before now, considering -now that the halls had emptied of councillors- they were the only other people still around...
"There has been talk of bribery amongst some of the Council." Hussaiid continued slowly. "No one has spoken with Alesha yet, but there have been whispers, little tales amongst Kiith Manaan and Kiith Nabaal. Kaalel are aware of the rumours. There is no evidence at the moment, but if they find anything, I'd suggest you be worried."
Raans heart skipped a beat. The thought of having his every move tracked by the intelligence specialists of the Hiigaran Republic was unsettling to say the least. If Alesha spoke, or Kaalel found something else on them, he would have nothing to rebut them with. Whilst he could survive the damage it would most likely do to his career and reputation (indeed, he'd considered leaving the Hiigaran Navy several times in the past year) Tillus on the otherhand...
He looked down at his friend, an equal look of bewilderment upon his face. Tillus... He had no idea how the smaller Hiigaran would handle it.
"You're also not being deployed, either with me or with another force." The Admiral folded his arms. "You two are to be granted the remainder of your two month leave. Sajuuk knows you deserve it."
Raan felt nothing at that, the Admiral offering both of them a sympathetic smile before continuing." Be rest assured, if this goes bad and we have go to war, you will find yourselves back on the frontline. Both of you are part of a select few that have actually fought these things... so if we need to fight, expect to be right back in the thick of it."
"We might have barely seen their capabilities." Tillus added quietly, the first he'd uttered a word since the Admiral had broke news of Kaalels investigation. "What we saw out by that gate might have just been their small stuff."
"Which is precisely why we're deploying a fleet." The Admiral countered. "As I stated, if the aliens do turn out to be hostile, we should, hopefully, at least be able to hold our own."
"Anyway." The Admiral added, beginning his walk away from the duo, a walk that would take him through the twisting corridors of the Palace towards the distant landing bay where his shuttle was docked. "I need to see about organising the fleet. I wish the both of you the best of luck."
The two Captains saluted, the gesture returned once more by a smiling Admiral.
"Now go enjoy yourselves, whilst you can."
AN
This chapter has been updated, the whole bottom half has been rewrite to (what I believe is) a higher standard as I did not like the original.