Alternate Past: Uncertain Future Mk II

cowritten with aDarkone

Chapter 15

Fragile Peace: Dawn of Change

"If you want to make enemies, try and change something."

-Woodrow Wilson

Khar'Shan, the homeworld of the Batarian race, capital world of the Batarian Hegemony, and center of almost all slave trade, indeed the only known technically "legal" slave trade in the known galaxy. If you asked most Batarians, it was the center of the universe or even the galaxy. If one asked if there were such a thing as a "superior race" most batarians would point to themselves. And if you asked about equality and abolition, you were likely to be knocked out and wake up with a slave collar around your neck before you had even know what happened.

The ancients cities of Khar'Shan, which most if not all were built on the back of slave labor, still stood proud and tall amongst the modern skyscrapers, monoliths and orbital elevators.

Across the lower districts of Pride Rock City, one of Khar'Shan's oldest cities, a young batarian woman fled from her pursuers. Leaping over debris, people and bodies, she ran as hard as she could, any human that saw her technique would call her a parkour runner, using her wits, body and environment to traverse as fast she could.

Her name was Jella Korragan, and once she had been a citizen of the Hegemony (albeit one from the lowest caste).Then when she was just a girl, her life had been flipped over and from then on, she had been a slave, prized for her looks and body, and traded between several owners over the course of her life. That is, until several months ago, when she had finally worked up the nerve to stand up against her 'master' and struck back with a kitchen knife. Stabbing him through the heart.

Once she had realized what she had done, she grabbed what clothes, credits and supplies she could before bolting from from her late master's estate. For the next several months she ran from both slave-trackers and government forces, and whenever the opportunity arose, she tried her best to free her fellow slaves. Either by attacking their minders or outright killing the slave owners, once she had figured out how to disable the slave collars and prevent them from going off when the owner or minders died. Slave collars were primed to detonate under a myriad of circumstances; one of them being the death of the identified owner of the collars.

It had never worked out though as most of the slaves she freed were almost immediately recaptured or were so broken, they had simply seen no point in trying to attain freedom. And now, after months of avoiding the state police who were hunting, it almost seemed like those slaves had a point.

Back in the present, another figure was watching the runaway slave with keen interest, unseen and unnoticed. The figure had watched the former slave for the past few days; seeing how she had evaded the state "police", if they could be called that, with relative easy. He had been watching her for the past several days, learning her patterns, methods and other behavior. Assessing her worth and viability for the Operation. And so far, things looked promising for the batarian woman. No formal training or experience, and yet she had managed to elude the authorities for as long as she had. Impressive perhaps, but there were others.

But from what Jella's silent observer could tell, her luck was running out. A squad of heavily armed police officers appeared to be zeroing in on Korragan's current location. Using the electronics and AI built into his armor, the watching human male was able to listen in on the squad's communications.

"Yeah it looks like our lead was solid...its definitely that crazy bitch Korragan" the squad leader reported to headquarters.

Then he turned to his men and said "okay boys...Jella killed her master so there's no need to bring her in alive...but if you want to have some fun with her first that's fine...just don't take long...I've got an early shift tomorrow and I don't wanna miss out on all my rest because you idiots wasted all night making some uppity slave squeal."

His squadmates simply nodded obediently. Although two of them couldn't suppress their lusty grins. Wondering just what kind of noises they could get Jella to make before they were done with her.

As he saw the five batarian males corner Jella in the alley where she had been resting, the watching man knew the time had come for him to make a choice. Either let Jella die here and now, or recruit her for Operation Spartacus.

In truth, the agent of ONI wasn't sure that Jella Korragan was right for what his superiors had in mind. When he had sent back his reports of the potential assets back to his superiors, he had expected for others to be chosen as prime candidates. So it was surprised when she was listed as one of the primes. He was half tempted to just let things lie and leave. However, as he saw the thuggish officers mob the surprised and horrified Jella something inside him snapped. He couldn't just stand by as these supposed agents of law and order gangraped a woman to death. These 'officers' deserved to die, a sentiment his AI companion readily agreed with.

Jella Korragan's four eyes were wide with fear as she tried to hold onto her clothes (that the police were doing their best to rip off). Promising herself that she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crying or begging or for mercy. Hoping that she could keep her promise as they ripped off her ragged shirt, leaving her naked above the waist.

"Kids" the batarian police sergeant said with a shrug, as his men eagerly held Jella down and started to pull down their own pants. Having seen so many women raped that he took the whole process utterly for granted.

"Okay boys...speed it up...I've got a long day tomorrow and I don't wanna-" a wet squelching noise was heard, brain, blood and bone splattering across the ground as squad leader's words were silenced by a bullet to the head. The body dropping to the floor with a thud.

The rest of the squad, seeing their squad leader die, dropped Jella, hands going for their weapons, before four more wet squelches sounded. Their heads seeming to explode as the high powered silenced shots perforated their skulls. Dying before they could draw their weapons or even call for reinforcements.

Shocked and covered in her would-be rapists blood, Jella Korragan got to her feet as a large figure dropped to the ground with barely a whisper. Getting a good look at her rescuer, who was wearing jet black armor, she saw the armor hid all of the person's featuring . They were holding a gun thicker than her arm in one large hand. The figure bent down, picking up a few small hollow canisters.

"Did you kill them?...who're you?" Jella gasped out. The armored figure turned, facing her for the first time. Jella looked directly at the figure, only to see her face reflecting back in the polarized visor.

The agent turned his head to glance at the bodies before returning to face Jella, "Yes...no man should treat a woman like that...as for who I am…" He paused, not sure just what to tell her. When ONI had told him of what his job would be, they had never covered what they would do when making contact. "You can call me John Doe" the agent replied, his armor's speaker filtering his voice to sound Batarian. He put out a hand to help pick her up.

Jella Korragan simply accepted the, if rather odd, name. The person sounded like a batarian, but never had she heard of that kind of name. Which was strange, since the only other race that looked similar to batarians were asari, and only to female batarians. And this person was clearly male from what she could see. Taking the offered hand, she asked, "What you do want?"

"My superiors seek the same thing as many in the Hegemony desire: the takedown of the slavecratic regime, brick by corrupt brick." the agent answered.

As she started recovering from what had just happened, she noticed for the first time how tall the person before her was. He towered over her by at least a good head. "But why?" Jella said in honest confusion, as far as she knew outsiders had never cared about how the Hegemony treated its slaves. And this person was no batarian.

"The Hegemony is a threat to my people...and no government should treat its people the way that yours does." the armored warrior replied. The agent stepped forward, somewhat surprised when Jella didn't step back. "Now I offer you a choice: would you rather continue to run until men like these," he gestured to the bodies around the two of them, "catch up with you again? Or would rather join me, and bring down those who sent these men after you in the first place?"

Jella Korragan had little to reason to trust the man. She didn't know his name, title, or even species. But he was the first person to help her in a very long time. And she hated the Hegemony with every fiber of her being.

"Yes...oh gods yes" Jella exclaimed as she reached out to the human Spartan. She stepped forward, only for exhaustion to finally claim her as she fell forward. Only to be caught by the armored warrior. The last words she heard before darkness claimed her were, "Welcome, Jella Korragan, to the Resistance."

Thus began the first phase of Operation Spartacus.

**APUFMKII**

On the surface, life aboard the Citadel hadn't changed much since before the arrival of the humans on the galactic stage. It was still the center of trade and commerce within 'civilized' space, and a large city-state in its own right. With countless apartment buildings, shops, parks, factories, theaters, and other places for civilians to work and play.

But just below the surface many changes were apparent. Security had tightened significantly, with C-Sec expanding in order to patrol all areas of the station more aggressively than ever before. The Powers That Be on the space station demanding that the police cut down on crime and corruption in order to protect the Citadel from any internal threats.

C-Sec was assisted in this task by the growing military presence aboard the Citadel. Especially in the form of troops from the Hierarchy. These soldiers helped the police protect government buildings and any other area on the station they considered of vital interest to national security.

In space the changes were even more obvious. The Citadel Defense Fleet was twice the size of the fleet the humans had swept aside three and a half years ago. The Citadel itself had been upgraded too, with numerous heavy weapons added to the outer structure. Many of them powerful enough to punch through a dreadnought with its barriers up. Despite official rules against it, there were even a large number of nuclear missiles aboard the Citadel now that could be fired at attacking ships, enough to nuke an entire world if they were used ruthlessly enough.

Nevertheless, the area where security had been upgraded the most was still probably the Citadel Tower, which was the center of government both for the Citadel and Council space as a whole. With numerous krogan warriors, asari commandos, STG operatives, and turian soldiers monitoring and guarding the tower at all times. Doing their best to ensure the safety of the Citadel Council. Determined to prevent a repeat of when the humans kidnapped the Council three and a half years ago.

However, the Councilors were uncomfortably aware of the fact that if they went to war with the humans again, it probably wouldn't be enough. They needed a real edge, something that could adjust the galactic balance of power in their favor. Which is what they were meeting today to discuss.

"Three more of our shipyards became operational this week and all the vessels built there will be constructed with the more efficient engines our asari comrades have developed and be designed to fire multiple nuclear missiles at a time" the Salarian Councilor reported to his colleagues.

"Excellent news, Valdn...have your scientists made any further progress unlocking the secrets of Slipspace?" Councilor Tevos asked.

"Results in that area have been more...problematic" Councilor Valdn confessed.

At this point in time, the STG research teams were gaining an elementary understanding of Slipspace. They had sent automated probes into the dimensional realm known as Slipspace, but the probes tended to be destroyed almost immediately as they entered the portal, ranging from the probes exploding, imploding, collapsing in on itself or simply disappearing. And the scientists involved had no idea why.

It had been a massive stroke of luck that they learned how to access slipspace in the first place: sensor data from when the UNSC ships had entered and exited slipspace at both the Citadel and the Turian home system had given them a plethora of data on how they generated the portals to the higher plane of existence, along with, albeit wrecked, slipspace drives, least what they assumed to be slipspace drives, before the humans could claim all the debris.

However, the problems were twofold now: the readings from the probes before they were lost were passed off as incorrect as they either followed no known physics models or violated them outright. Which was of course impossible. And they were having difficulties trying to actually navigate once the portals were open. Having to start from scratch, but without a reference point it was akin to trying to shoot a target in the dark while blindfolded and deaf.

"We still are unable to understand just what slipspace really is; what data we obtain in both anomalous and inconclusive, as impossible as it may be. However, we have learned just how to detect an imminent slipspace "rend" as it were, thanks to the unique energy the portals generate. At the very least, we will be able to know when they are about to arrive."

"Good...I'm tired of those hairy mammals always getting the drop on us" Councilor Wrex replied.

"Yeah, great. Now we know when they're about come tear us a new one, joy and hurrah." Matriarch Aethyta bit out, sarcasm lacing every word. "Not like its going to do us much good if they can just run over us like its nothing." Tevos held in a sigh, the brash, and many would call her, radical matriarch was not one to mince words. Unfortunately in this more dangerous and unpredictable era, Tevos (a diplomat by training and inclination) needed a military advisor. Especially one like Aethyta, who held views that had long been dismissed as too radical or aggressive, that circumstances were forcing the asari elite to reconsider.

"No no, perhaps it may be possible to make some sort of device to keep Slipspace portals from forming in our territory. Slipspace seems to be inherently unstable, so making it reliable enough to travel through is hard but making it more unstable to prevent passage, should be relatively easy" Doctor Mordin Solus, the salarian Councilor's own military advisor said at his usual breakneck speed. A male whose acknowledged scientific and tactical brilliance had won him enough recognition to earn such a position (and who according to rumor, had been offered the top job at the STG and turned it down). "Least in theory. Based only on conjecture currently. Still too much about slipspace we don't know. Need lateral thinking to understand. Something the humans are more than capable of, it seems."

"Lateral thinking? Slipspace jammers? That's all well and good, but I have another question: does anyone, I mean Anyone, even know where their worlds are located? Or how to even reach them?" The turian councilor, Cicero Valon, interjected. He had been ushered into the position over three years ago, almost immediately after the human invasion of the turian home system, and their subsequent departure. Once the fires had died down, the turian people had called out for the person that had brought such ruin upon them; with the blame being shouldered by Cicero's predecessor, Teranus. His removal had been so abrupt that when Cicero had accepted the position, Teranus was nowhere to be found to assist in the transition of power. Leading to the new Councilor and the Primarch working around the clock for several months to bring things to a manageable level.

"Yes we do actually...turian intelligence finally managed to decrypt the data we got off the 'Everest'," saying the unfamiliar name with some difficulty, "before it blasted its way out of our lunar base" Saren Arterius, former decorated Spectre and current advisor to the turian Councilor said. The turian advisor had left the Spectres shortly after the events three years for several reasons. Such as wanting to dedicate all his time and energy to assisting the Hierarchy. As a Spectre, he may have had free pass for almost anything in Council space, but it also meant he was at the beck and call at the Council, rather than the Hierarchy. Along with the fact that he felt that he would better serve on the back lines, than the front lines. That, and the fact that with his new position, he could keep a closer eye on his family, especially his brother Desolas. His greed and desire to be remembered in history was what started this entire mess in the first place. By the grace of the Spirits, Desolas somehow survived everything three years ago, and now was under house arrest at the Arterius home.

"We can tell you exactly where the human worlds are...and potentially which ones are their biggest colonies. The data our technicians managed to obtain off the Everest was incomplete but it contained at least that much...unfortunately from our analysis, the data was in the process of being erased when something or someone stopped it. As a result, we only have the most basic of data. Any details regarding the worlds themselves, whether they be colonies, fortress worlds, or farm worlds are missing." Saren paused for a moment, making sure he had the attention of the councilors. "The problem however, is that we lack the means of getting there. To the best of our knowledge, there are few Mass Relays that leads to human territory, and we don't know how many more, if any, Relays exist that lead to the human systems. Or if they lead to their core systems. I've already sent the data to astronavigation schools along with any astronomy groups to try and find any more relays, or the location of potential relays, that may lead to a human system"

"And...there is something else." Again he paused, this time his right hand reaching towards his prosthetic left arm. The injury, an understatement if there ever was one, happened three years; when the Council had been kidnapped by the human special forces teams. He had been one of the few Spectres close enough to actually and try and aid the C-Sec forces. He had managed to ambush the kidnappers, using one of the Keeper tunnels. Opening fire the moment he had dropped out of the tunnel, hitting the ambassador and two of the soldiers, only to see his rounds bounce off the shields of the latter two. Before he could do anything else, one of the behemoths turned with impossible speed, drew its pistols and fired at him. Saren couldn't recall how many shots were fired, nor how he avoided most them. But he remembered the pain; the shots impact his shoulder and upper right torso, the rounds exploding after impact. He had only survived being left for dead, and from a later camera feed, the human ambassador taking priority. "We should not be so eager for a fight. I very much doubt the humans have been sitting idly by for the past three years."

"Realistically speaking, even if we could reach the worlds, that would only mean that we could severely hurt them before going down in any sort of full scale war. We still have no means of protecting our worlds from whatever destroyed Impera...so we need to delay or outright avoid open conflict with them for as long as possible" Saren admitted.

"Yes...but once we can reach their worlds we can nuke them until they glow...it may be harder for us to physically destroy a planet..but if we kill all life on the surface it amounts to the same thing" Doctor Okeer, Councilor Wrex's official advisor, and one of the few krogan so ruthless that that even the Councilor was taken aback by it sometimes, argued. Okeer was one of the few krogan that was older than Wrex (by several centuries in fact). And thankfully for the krogan people, was more content to think and tinker in his labs than try and actually lead the people. There were rumors that he had been trying to create a more "pure" krogan, before taking his position as advisor. "You pacifists don't know how to fight a real war."

"So what?...if we destroy their worlds, and they destroy ours, we are all dead regardless." Saren pointed out.

Valdn, Tevos, and Wrex all shared a look as their advisors argued without any input from the Councilors. Unlike Cicero, they remembered what it was like to be a Citadel Councilor before the arrival of the humans. Before Councilors needed official military advisors or daily security briefings. And all of them missed those days sometimes.

As the meeting resumed, Saren couldn't help but marvel at what the humans had done to the galactic community in less than four years. Turning the once conservative and even somewhat lethargic Citadel Council into virtual warmongers. Desperate to retaliate against a more powerful foe.

"Do we have any good news to report?" Tevos asked wearily.

Silence permeated the meeting room. Then her own military advisor spoke up, saying "The newest economic report is in...apparently the Republics are doing better than at any point in their history since the war with the humans."

"That's good news...then the asari should be able to finally build up a decent fleet and take over some of the peacekeeping duties that the rest of us do...As you've been promising since Impera was made into an asteroid belt." the turian Councilor said with sarcastically.

Tevos repressed the urge to glare at Aethyta. She knew that the matriarch was trying to embarrass her into fulfilling the promises she had made on behalf of the Asari Republics. The radical matriarch had been trying to push for increased militarization and military spending since before the humans. The problem was that the asari's own leaders were afraid of how the voters would react when their maidens were sent off to fight the fearsome humans. Only to receive a smug look in return from the radical.

"Yes we are currently working on commissioning both new ships and shipyards, but it will take time before we actually have a sizeable fleet as most of the asari are still of the mind of just waiting out the humans." When she said most, she was referring to those who didn't know of the Prothean Beacon within the Temple of Athame. Unaware of the fact that the humans (or at least Doctor Denton) may have discovered the asari's ultimate trump card. Forcing them to take radical action in order to maintain their dominant role in galactic affairs.

"Now Valdn, I believe you mentioned something to me about the New Covenant, the last time we spoke" Tevos said in an attempt to change the subject.

The salarian councilor leaned back in his chair. "At the moment it is only rumors and hearsay, but it seems the New Covenant, or at the very least, their ships, are starting to fall into a state of disrepair. According to the rumors, the New Covenant ships, as formidable as they are, are old. And they lack the skill and knowledge to repair them. How this is possible is beyond me."

"Is that all?" Wrex grunted. "I didn't think you salarians would actually put much, if any, stock in rumors. Thought the STG was all facts and science."

"That is usually the case but most of the New Covenant is beyond the reach of the Mass Relays which means that we have to get most of our information about them second or even third hand" the salarian Councilor pointed out.

Valdn didn't retort as such. "And under regular circumstances you would be right, however there have been signs that the rumors may be more than just that. A recent census has shown that there has been a significant increase in immigration from the New Covenant, along with many New Covenant citizens showing a rather keen interest in our engineering education programs. If that wasn't enough, comparing how their ships looked from two years ago, there are clear signs of degradation and shoddy attempts at maintenance."

"And if the New Covenant collapses, all their stuff will be up for grabs." Wrex thought aloud.

"Exactly. Once their coalition begins falls apart under the weight of its own ignorance, its only a simple matter of picking up the pieces. The potential bounty we could gain is staggering, none more so than the chance of getting ahold of slipspace technology. Blueprints, schematics, or even a working Slipspace drive for us to reverse engineer...and once that happens our enemies will lose their greatest advantage against us" Valdn explained. As all of those present were considering the implications of reverse engineering their enemy's greatest advantage, little did they realize just how far they were already behind.

**APUFMKII**

In another sector of the galaxy, above the UNSC fortress world of Reach, preparations were being made for the demonstration of two potential new additions to the UNSC arsenal.

Much of the UNSC brass was in attendance: Fleet Admirals Lord Hood, Harper, Vice Admirals Jacob Keyes, Hieronymus Michael Stanforth and Jesse De La Rosa, Generals from the UNSC Army Felipe Kits, Darius Black, Lt General from the UNSC Marine corp, Franklin Mendez and Colonel from the UNSC Army, Ackerson, to name a few. Those who were part of the upper echelons of ONI were conspicuously missing.

Alongside them were the ones in charge of the two projects: Derek Hardison and his Chief Engineer, Linda Danvers, the ones in charge of Project Eezo. With them was their counterpart and the man in charge of the Battleship design project, named Project Babylon; Christian Choi. Neither of the two pairs had really met or worked with the other, but both knew of the other's reputation.

Derek had been trying to make a name for himself as an expert on alien technology before the UNSC/Council war. In the wake of that conflict. when the human military had begun expanding again, he was able to use that reputation to secure an administrator's position at the one of the UNSC's newest shipyards. But he had not had a chance to really prove himself yet. This demonstration was Hardison's opportunity to show the faith those that had recruited him for project Eezo had had was justified.

Choi, on the other hand, was not a newcomer like Derek. He too was a relatively fresh face to the UNSC, and much like Derek, had been born during the Great War. A near prodigy, he had caught the attention of several companies and been hired as part of Misirah Armories' Research and Development Branch, once he had attained his Masters Degree. But what gained him his reputation, and the attention of the UNSC, was his creation of the MACH system, a technology now present in virtually all UNSC ballistic weaponry.

Today both Projects would demonstrate their capabilities to the higher echelons, to try and gain more funding to continue research and expand upon it. Least, that was the official statement. It would also determine, to an extent, just what direction the UNSC would focus on to counter the advantages of the Citadel races.

Outside the station where everyone was gathered, they could see the ships, both Derek's and Choi's moving into position, and in the case of the latter; derelict ships to serve as targets.

"Well Mr. Hardison, are you sure that this will work?" Lord Hood asked. "I'm not a astrophysicist or engineer, but from what this 'codex' claims, it may not be possible. This is new technology after all, we don't have the firmest of grips."

"The same could be said for when humanity first started using Forerunner technologies Admiral." Derek replied, "I assure you, this test will go off without issue."

"Although I'm more familiar with my own design of course, I am optimistic that Hardison's Mass Effect warships will work…they'll provide a fine compliment to my own heavier vessels" Choi in an effort to seem fair and impartial. Though in truth, he was just as invested in his project professionally and emotionally as Hardison, he was simply better at not being obnoxious about it.

"Yes..I've seen your designs." Vice Admiral Stanforth looked towards the asian project leader. "Tell me, are you sure you're ships are actually combat-effective? I've ran the numbers for your 'Jericho' cannons. Only seven kilometers a second? I have my doubts."

"I assure you Admiral, my ships will be more than combat effective. And I have since corrected that oversight. The muzzle velocity can been increased to forty-four kilometers a second as needed. And yes, they will handle that firepower." He respectfully replied. "Though, it will be interesting to see our ships using this new technology. If this works, then the UNSC will gain a massive tactical advantage."

Some of the brass looked towards both the new ships, as they moved to their final positions, with new appreciation. The tablet in Derek, Linda's and Choi's hand lit up. "Sirs, the AIs report everything is ready for the test." Derek said, since he was the first one to be demonstrating. Each of the ships were being controlled by a number of AIs, to eliminate any risk of the loss of human life in the event of some sort of accident.

The UNSC, and to a greater extent ONI, could be ruthless, but the didn't risk valuable personnel without reason, for the most part. This was still largely untested alien technology, as far as the human military was concerned.

At least until now.

Derek Hardison of course, insisted on giving the signal to begin himself. Communicating with the AI onboard each of his vessels as he started the countdown.

"Initialize start up of Mass Effect Drive Cores. Reconfirm stellar coordinates. All ships prepare for jump on my mark."

In unison all twelve ships in the fleet activated their Mass Effect engines. The massive, by Council Race standards, warships glowing blue as they prepared to take an FTL jump from one side of the solar system to another. Inside, their mass effect drive cores spinning up and reading for the transition, sending electrical currents through the Eezo within. Derek Hardison grinning at his shining moment of glory.

On the station, the holomap tracked their positions, marking them on the solar map as green triangles. Numerous people and machines preparing to track the warships as they moved. Everyone involved wanting to collect as much data as possible.

Denton started counting down.

"Entering FTL, four, three, two, one. Mark."

The ships started to glow slightly, a blue hue beginning to envelope them, then disaster struck. As the dark energy enveloped the warships, in half a dozen of them, certain sections had their mass reduced more than the rest of the vessels. The difference in mass resulting in the ships violently ripping apart as sections of the ships reached FTL speeds while the rest of the vessels remained too heavy to do so. Literally flying apart as Derek Hardison looked on in abject horror. Five others seemed to implode as the dark energy dramatically increased their mass. While a single ship was wrapped in dark energy and slung itself forward at incredible speeds.

On the holomap, almost all of the green triangles began to wink out of existence, with only one reappearing. The one ship that had actually managed to enter FTL whole. Derek whispered under his breath. "No...no, no, no, this can't be happening...this can't…"

To his right, Linda was also shocked by what was happening, and was considering just what she could do to distance herself as much as possible from Derek professionally. Choi remained impassive, though internally he was disappointed, but at the same, thankful for the failure. While it would have been nice to possess ships with such maneuverability and able to gain a quick tactical advantage, he had some reservations about it. On the other hand, since Derek's Project Eezo had failed so spectacularly, the odds were good that his Babylon-class battleships would become a mainstay of the UNSC navy.

"Well...that was...educational." Choi said, trying to break the tension, only to get a nasty look from Derek. Most of the officers however were shaking their heads, mostly at the wasted resources, showing their disappointment in some form or another. Lord Hood was pinching his eyes. "Let's hope that your Babylon-class vessels prove to be more fruitful, Mr. Choi."

Choi nodded, bringing up his own tablet. "All ships, calculate fire solutions to each of your assigned targets. Group A use configuration 1, Groups B and C, use configurations 2 and 3 respectively. Lock onto targets and wait for my command." On the holotank, blue squares, twelve of them, split off into three groups of four, heading towards a series of white squares on the map. In real space, twelve Babylon-class warships headed towards their targets: a number of derelict ships, both military and civilian. Along with a few intact, and stripped, Citadel vessels; spoils of war from four years ago.

Soon enough, all twelve ships were aimed and readied. Choi looked at his tablet to confirm everything was ready. "Fire on my mark. Mark." The space was briefly lit up in bright flashes as eight 16-inch Jericho cannons on each ship's starboard side cut loose on their targets, utterly obliterating them. While the officers were nodding in appreciation of the demonstration, Stanforth even slowly clapping, Choi looked at the data from the ships and frowned. All the ships had fired all of their cannons with a muzzle velocity of forty-four kilometers a second, the difference being how they were fired. Group A had fired in the staggered method used in world war II by the US Navy. Group B had fired outer-inner method, with the outer turrets firing first on each turret, then the two inner ones. Group C had fired all eight at once. The results were not pleasing.

Group A was fine, no real issues. Group B's shots had all landed on target too. But most of the shots that the vessels in Group C had fired had nearly missed. It was only thanks to the relatively fragile nature of their targets that the Council vessels they fired on had been destroyed when the shots had skimmed their targets. .

"Something is wrong with the targeting system we designed...its not working at 100% efficiency or even close to it" Choi realized. As he took a closer look, he noticed another problem, the housing between the turret and the ship itself had been pushed almost to its breaking point with the third group. Constant barrage of all guns firing in unison would tear the ship apart from the inside out. Thankfully, both those little details were known only to him.

But the watching brass simply saw his ships obliterate their targets. Lacking the scientific knowledge or real time data to spot the problem. Or so Choi hoped anyway.

"Mister Cho, that was very impressive, but will your vessels be able to perform that well in real combat?" Lord Hood asked he as he approached the scientist.

"I...believe so admiral. Of course I will want run further tests and if possible upgrades before we go into mass production" Choi said cautiously.

"Would you say that they're ready to be tested in the field?" the Fleet admiral asked. Something about his manner suggesting that he knew the test hadn't been as successful as it appeared on the surface.

"Perhaps," Choi replied, not confident enough to say yes, but not wanting to say no. "Too many variables to account for."

"Even though most of the shots Group C fired nearly missed?" Hood asked coldly. "And said nearly ripped themselves apart?"

"How did he know?" Choi's eyes widened.

As though reading his mind, Lord Hood replied with quiet intensity "You're not the only one with access to AIs at the moment...now get the problem fixed!...and if you ever try bullshitting me again I will have you repairing toilets for the rest of your career." It was not an idle threat. The man was more than dangerous than either the Head of ONI or Doctor Halsey.

As Admiral Hood stormed off, Linda Danvers walked over to Christian Choi. Smiling flirtatiously as she tried to physically and professionally distance herself from the disgraced Derek Hardison. Telling Choi, "it sounds like the admirals are going to pull the funding from Project Eezo and give it to yours...so rather than beating around the bush let me just ask you if you have any positions available?"

Despite how she presented herself, Choi didn't react. He knew how to tell when someone was acting and someone was being sincere. Still, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Of course, we will have need to expand. And from what I know of your work, Miss Danvers, we could use a woman like you." Choi replied as he extended his hand.

Derek Hardison was visibly fuming as he watched his lover and chief engineer leave him. Feeling as though his life was ruined. Knowing that his career might never recover from this disaster.

But Christian Choi was thinking, 'I know you think that you're trying to be clever Danvers...but if you can't help me fix the targeting system, you've just fled from one sinking ship to another. And I don't plan on going alone."

**APUFMKII**

As the New Covenant's situation became increasingly desperate, it was forced to exploit resources that their people had once dismissed as not worthy of their time. Such as wreckage left on battlefields from the Covenant Civil War.

The Zortha System had once contained a thriving colony, productive titanium mines, and even a small shipyard. But fierce fighting between Loyalists and Separatists had resulted in the colony getting Glassed and the destruction of the shipyard decades ago. As a result, both the Separatists and Loyalists considered the battle a loss and had written off the entire system.

But with their fleets beginning to fall apart the New Covenant had started to desperately search past battlefields for anything that they could salvage. Trying to stall their seemingly inevitable collapse. Hoping to find something that could change their situation for the better. Sending searching parties to numerous star systems to find anything worth harvesting.

However, as a New Covenant scout ship exited Slipspace to arrive in the Zortha System, the crew encountered something unexpected.

Thousands of ships of all shapes and sizes were already in the system. With a Mass Relay, that his own people had once mistakenly identified as a Forerunner artifact and left alone when they could find no way to activate or access it, bringing dozens more to the Zortha system every few hours.

The scout ship's sensors indicated that the alien vessels were constructed by the Citadel races. While what the crew could see with their own eyes showed that these aliens were collecting and processing the very wreckage that their own people had hoped to salvage.

Despite their kind's warlike reputation, the Elite crew were not fools. They knew their little ship was no match for a fleet, no matter how ramshackle it may be. Besides, their mission had been to gather data and scout for resources in the Zortha System, nothing more.

So the scout ship activated its Slipspace Drive and left the solar system. The captain trying to figure out the best way to inform his superiors that a massive fleet had invaded their territory.

**APUFMKII**

Of all the bad decisions Charz Taran had made during his life, deciding to raid one of the new human colonies the EUG had set up near Council space was perhaps the worst.

Humans were so hated throughout Citadel territory that Charz had figured plenty of people would pay good money to have to their personal human slave to push around. Moreover, he had assumed that a small colony on the fringes of human territory would be lightly defended. Showing just how much, or rather little, he knew about the defensive policy of the UNSC.

When he and his compatriots had first heard of the Mass Relay on the fringes of the Terminus that lead to a human world, a fringe human world, they had assumed it would be an easy job. To the best of their knowledge, fringe colonies were almost always lightly defended, and easier to raid. So he and his compatriots, recruited as many other ships, mercenaries and slavers as they could, for the first raid on a human world and claim as many as they could.

When he and the rest of the slavers exited the Mass Relay and moved towards the human colony, they had expected it to be a quick and easy job. Minimum losses, maximum profit. Charz shook his head at the memory. How wrong had they been.

Upon first arrival in the system, they scanned the colony, the stations in orbit and the ships nearby and found nothing. Absolutely nothing. No planetary guns, no warships and no orbital weaponry. Thinking they had absolute free reign, they had blindly charged in, paying little attention to the whatever debris their ships passed by (a fatal mistake if there ever was one).

Just as Charz's ship was about to enter high-orbit of the colony world, dozens of miniature suns lit up the void. Great big balls of nuclear fire enveloped the slaver ships, vaporizing everything in its path. Only Charz's ship and a few others had survived, by the grace of their gods being on the verge of the apparent minefield. "Or is that the anger of our lords?" Charz muttered, laughing humorlessly.

While the UNSC may have yet to have established its MAC grid, even in the absence of ships, the colony was not undefended. The humans had learned their lesson four years ago. Over dependence on the Orbital defense platform S-MACs meant that once those defenses were gone, outside of any planetary defenses, which were often far and few, there was nothing left to stop any invaders. The ODPs were both a first and last defense for many colony worlds. A lesson hard learned at Shanxi.

Since then, more lines of defense were added to supplement the ODPs. Now, the first line of defense of any colony world, any UNSC world was a minefield of HORNET nuclear mines. The HORNET mine was an old UNSC weapon, harkening to the times of the Great War. Cold as interstellar space when deployed, controlled by either a central command center, or internal basic AIs communicating with each other, HORNET mines were devastating under any circumstances. With the only vessels able to endure them being an INF or CAS-class or larger.

The slaver ships (old and obsolete even by the standards of the Hegemony) never stood a chance. Before they could even thinking of trying to recover, boarding craft had departed from the stations in orbit, boarded the slaver ships and quickly seized control. Although it was hardly necessary, after seeing how badly outclassed they were, most of the surviving slavers, including Charz Taran himself, started broadcasting on all frequencies their unconditional surrender as they were being boarded.

Soon after that, ONI had stepped in and claimed custody of the prisoners. Charz still recalled his first 'meeting' with the humans. A memory he, and many of his fellow slavers, would sooner forget.

He couldn't remember what had happened between when he had surrendered and when he had woken up in the strange room. His hands cuffed together and linked to the table, his feet cuffed to the legs of the chair. And the solitary figure hidden in the dark on the opposite side of the table. It wasn't even much of a meeting. A meeting implies mutual discussion. Not, what he, and he assumed his fellow slavers got, was an ultimatum: Do as he was ordered, and he would profit greatly. Refuse, well he'd prefer not to remember just what he had been told would happen.

So now here he was, with perhaps another half dozen slaver vessels, on the way to Khar'Shan, their ships packed to the brim with their human 'cargo'. Insurrectionists, death row and life sentence convicts with no hope of parole or appeal, and any others who would otherwise be written up for dead or lost in human space, along with several ONI agents scattered in the midst. They would be sold off in Khar'Shan, with Charz netting some of the profit, the majority going to the ONI. Briefly, he considered revealing the human plot and netting all the profit himself when he scowled from the twang of pain from the base of his skull. ONI had installed a 'security measure' in him and others like him: a neural implant that could detect the most basic of thoughts, and depending on just how traitorous the thoughts were; would case a minor neural surge of pain, or overload the nervous system, resulting in death. The technology was not present anywhere in human space as it would be easily spotted. But ONI was betting that the batarians, or anyone else in Citadel space would realize this.

Shaking off the traitorous thoughts lest he get another shock, he focused on the planet filling up his viewscreen, wondering just why the humans were doing this. Little did he realize just what would become of his actions, and how they would change life in the Hegemony as anyone knew it.

**APUFMKII**

Before their reformation, after a fashion, the New Covenant was far more open minded than they had been before, and calmer. But considering how violent and xenophobic the old alien empire had been that wasn't necessarily saying much. And even at its best the New Covenant wouldn't take invasions of its territory lying down.

On the periphery of the Zortha system, slipspace portals ripped apart real space as they appeared, drawing the attention of every single ship already present. As the Migrant Fleet began getting into formation in response, the first of the ships began to come through. Four CCS-class battlecruisers, each escorted by a trio of CRS-class light cruisers. Already the small force possessed enough firepower to take on the majority of the Quarian Migrant Fleet. Then, it came through. A CAS-Class Assault Carrier. Five point three kilometers of Covenant firepower and grace. Leading the task force was Rtas'Vadum, Special Operations Commander of the New Covenant, and personally tasked by the Council to investigate the disturbance and intrusion. As ship cleared the portal, he could clearly see from the bridge the sheer volume of ships that had intruded on their territory.

"Oh Ancestors" Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema gasped in horror. The alien warships dwarfed any of the vessels under his command. Moreover, according to what little intelligence he had; on how the New Covenant had performed during the UNSC/Council war, those seventeen warships probably had enough firepower to take on and destroy the entire Migrant Fleet.

But Han'Gerrel hadn't become the leader of the Heavy Fleet by being timid. So he quickly mastered himself and ordered his ships to get into defensive formation between the newcomers and the civilian vessels. Hoping that the other admirals could come up with a nonviolent solution to this, if the glowing spheres were any indication, apparently frighteningly well armed, problem. And he did not relish the chance to take on that many dreadnoughts, let alone the super-dreadnought.

At the same time Admiral Shala'Raan was mobilizing the ships of the Patrol Fleet into defensive positions. She was uncomfortably aware of the fact that by most anyone's standards, her ships were lightly armed and armored. But like him it was her duty to protect the Quarian people and so she would do so to the best of her ability.

Daro'Xen was on the verge of panic, out of everyone in the Migrant Fleet,only she and a few others knew just what they were facing if this went to the Varren pits. Kinetic barriers only stopped solid matter, not liquids or gasses. And it did absolutely nothing to protect against high-energy plasma. Coupled with the fact that, because of the reliance on kinetic barriers and the drawbacks of drive core, most of the Flotilla ships had very thin hulls. A single shop to even one of their heavier ships would probably gut it through and through, and still be able to pierce another ship. Based on the data she and her teams gathered from the wrecks in the system, even one of their smaller ships, the ones the size of a cruiser, could, no, it did, have the firepower to utterly destroy them. And considering the flagship of the force before them...Daro simply retreated into her office, awaiting whatever fate may come.

Zaal'Koris, unlike most of his fellow Admirals, was being pushed to his limit as he worked to keep the entire civilian fleet from panicking and either fleeing the system back through the Relay, or in a few rare cases, opening fire on the aliens.

Perhaps because he had the fewest responsibilities to overwhelm him at the moment, Rael'Zorah saw the situation more clearly than any of the other admirals.

'The aliens haven't opened fire...they seem to be waiting for something,' Rael'Zorah thought.'so just what, if they are, waiting for?' He soon got his answer as one of the bridge crew, the communications officer reported a general broadcast on all frequencies. When he ordered the crewman to accept the call, he was not surprised it was a video call. What made Rael nearly stumble backwards was the face that greeted him.

The face was vaguely reptilian, with small deep set eyes and no nose to speak of. But what really drew his attention was the large maw filled with fangs, covered with four mandibles that looked far more vicious than a turian's. All these features gave the creature a very predatory visage, and for once Rael was glad that he always wore a helmet, so that nobody could see the fear in his eyes.

On the other side of the screen, Rtas regarded the rather frail looking creature with interest, and a small amount of disdain. These 'quarians' if he recalled correctly from the Codex he had been given before being dispatched, were rather frail creatures. Those suits of theirs apparently required for their very survival. Still, he had to admit, he was impressed by how the creature showed no visible signs of fear, though that visor of its did help. "My name is Rtas'Vadum, Special Operations Commander of the New Covenant, and shipmaster of Glorious Redemption. I ask who are you, and the reason for your presence in New Covenant space."

To his credit, Rael did not stutter when he spoke, thanks to his, and the majority of the quarian people's, experience in constantly dealing with those with more power and resources than they did. Especially over the past few years. "Greetings, Commander Rtas'Vadum. I am Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Alarei of the Quarian people, and I will be speaking for them for the interim. I hope that this can remain peaceful."

Rtas held back a snort at the quarian's attempt to redirect the conversation. It was the obvious and blatant attempts, but still a decent one. "That remains to be seen. I ask again, what is the your purpose here? You're 'fleet' is trespassing on New Covenant territory and is apparently desecrating the dead. Are your people such scavengers that you would violate the dead?"

"I apologize commander...we didn't know this system belonged to anyone it appeared as though it had been abandoned for years" Rael'Zorah confessed, hoping their mistake wouldn't hurt his people too much.

"That still does not answer my question." Rtas gestured off-screen, signalling to the bridge crew to start preparing their lateral plasma lines and energy projectors. More of the outside turrets beginning to glow in response. "We may not have maintained a presence here, but it still is our territory. Now I ask for the last time, why are you here?"

Rael's mind raced at a mile a second, trying desperately to find a way of explaining why they were here without insulting the New Covenant commander before him. As he tried and tried, he realized that honesty may be the best route here. "You ask why we are here? Why we are scavenging your world and the wrecks? The answer is simple: desperation. I do not know how much of our history you know Commander, but the fleet, this very fleet, is all the quarian people have, it is our only home. And it is falling apart. You wanted to know why we desecrate the dead? Its so that our own fleet does not become our graves. Our ships are falling apart, our people growing desperate. And the situation in Citadel space was becoming untenable. We were forced to decide to either stay and face what was almost certain death, or take a risk and come here."

As Rtas processed the answer, he gestured towards one of the bridge crew to bring up a detailed scan of several of the quarian ships. And was both in shock, and awe, by what he saw. The ships were decades, and in some cases centuries, old, and only held together by constant patches and the strictest of maintenance. Ships that were, by comparison, in worse or similar shape as many of the New Covenant's ships, many of which, most would see as irrecoverable, were apparently operational. Take into account the sheer number of ships and the fact they were running on the bare minimum of resources...to the veteran commander, it was unprecedented. Only the Hurgarok were capable of greater feats, and they were the supposedly the creation of the Forerunners themselves! 'High Charity must be informed of this. This is beyond my duty.' He thought before focusing back on Rael.

"Your plight and reasons are understandable. However, I must ask two things: the first that you cease your actions. I understand your plight, however I can not allow you to continue. But I will allow you to settle on the planet. The second being that you must remain here. I must inform my superiors, and I am almost certain they will come here. If there is to be any sort of agreement between our two people, I am not the one to negotiate them."

Rael was aghast. Whilst he had manage to keep his people from being vaporized, he now had to inform them that they must stop their activities, lest his actions be for naught. In addition was the fact that the more of these Covenant and their ships be soon be coming. In a surprisingly calm voice he responded, "Understood Commander, I will inform my people immediately. And hope that our people can come to some agreement." He saw Rtas give a curt nod before slumping into his seat. Wondering what the future would hold.