Lost Magic: First Contact

by MightyFish

A man is left trapped in time, while his world dies around him. Now awakened in the distant future, he leaves the planet of his birth and embarks on a journey to find that which was lost. But the new frontier holds many dangers, and the human race is about to face its first great challenge. A HP/ME crossover. Slow pace, rated M for safety, my profile has more details.

4. Chapter 3: The Face of Our Enemy

Traditional Disclaimer:

I do not own either the Harry Potter or Mass Effect franchises. This piece of fiction is written merely for my own pleasure and no monetary profit is intended.

*Update 2015/03/12 - Check ANs for details.

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Chapter 3

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The Face of Our Enemy

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"Watch where you're going, girl!"

"Oh, sorry about that." Lucretia waited until the man went on his way, grumbling about her all the time, before adding in a low voice. "Asshole."

She sighed, picked up the food packages she had dropped after bumping into the man, and resumed her walk, trying to pay a little more attention now. She supposed she had to cut the guy some slack. Everyone was very much on edge at the moment.

All around her, groups of people huddled together around their assigned tents, talking quietly. Hundreds of the fabric shelters where distributed as neatly as possible throughout an extensive cave system some 35 kilometers off Central, very near to Inner Settlement 06. From what she understood, they were in a particularly uniform series of nine extensive chambers, all roughly at the same depth. The dry, dark red walls where a somewhat depressing sight, even with adequate illumination provided by many emergency lights, and the relatively low ceiling was sure to cause some claustrophobia on those more sensitive to it. Still, it could be worse. The air was fresh and cool, being recycled by the makeshift ventilation shafts. The tents were mostly of military grade, they had comfortable bedrolls, blankets, field chairs and tables. Scattered around were larger shelters functioning as supply depots, sanitary facilities, and medical units.

She knew other arrangements had been made in similar locations around Central.

Since the founding of the colony, almost three years ago, both the Alliance Navy and Colonial Authority realized the great sheltering potential of the Shanxi's many underground expanses. While the construction of the settlements received most of the attention, the authorities never stopped investing in clearing and equipping the larger and more stable caves in case of a major, planet-wide emergency. That foresight was now paying off. Shanxi may not have been pretty like Demeter or Terra Nova, but certainly looked much better able to withstand a siege.

"Mommy, why can't I go out to play?"

"I told you, honey, we have to stay here while daddy is fixing our house, remember? When we go back, you will see how nice it will be. If you behave, mommy and daddy will take you to see the spaceships in the city again, ok?"

"Promise?"

"Of course, dear."

"I'm telling you, guys, this is a mistake. We should be out there waiting for them, show them we are sorry for that ship. How can we show what good we have to offer if we hide in a hole and let only Marines up there to greet them?"

"Stop being so naive, Charlie. They came to us, and they shoot us. For my part, I'm glad there are some brave people with big guns up there."

"You are both idiots! Can't you see this all some kind of ploy? The protheans are dead. Gone. It's obvious the Alliance is trying to force its independence from Earth by making up some ridiculous threat."

"I always said the damn freaks where out there, waiting to get us! Didn't I say this day would come?! I did! Those blasted hippies can take their 'love and peace' and shove it!"

"Please, grandpa, get back inside! And put that thing down, you will hurt yourself!"

In front of a nearby tent, an extremely old man stood brandishing a metal cane as if it were a sword, while a much younger woman looked on with a distressed face and wringed her hands.

"Hoh, I was fighting the hidden fight long before your mother was born, lass. And when those aberrations come, I will show them just how good I was. Let's see how their psychic powers work with ten inches of good old Earth steel through their third eye!" as he gestured sharply, the cane flew from his hands and landed in the tent next to them. A muffled scream came from inside.

"GRANDPA!"

Lucretia shook her head and suppressed a laugh at the old man's antics. Colonial Authority, with the help of the Marines, had gathered the citizens in the settlements and told them that a dust storm of unprecedented magnitude could form in the next few days and engulf the entire Aloquian Plateau. After tranquilizing the colonists by revealing the already prepared shelters, people were instructed to go back to their houses and pack all the essential items they would need for a few days, along with every scrap of food they could find.

Only when most of the civilian population of Shanxi had been relocated to the caves did Governor Michael O'Neil announced the true reasons for the evacuation in a special broadcast. Authority certainly realized the secret would leak sooner rather than later, so best that it came from their own mouths. There had been screaming, panic, and denial, of course, but it was quickly brought under control by the firm presence of the Marines, the obvious effort being put into their defense, and the short footage showing the Alliance frigates blowing up the alien's ship with concentrated, unrelenting mass accelerator fire.

"Of course, I bet the Alliance only showed the good parts of the battle in that video." thought the girl. She was not dumb; she knew that the worst thing for the military and colony officials right now would be to have to control a rioting population, on top of fighting an unknown enemy. If a little bending of the truth kept the people of Shanxi from turning against each other, she was all for it.

All the sudden measures and procedures, all the secrecy and high-handedness, still had an impact. Leaving their homes and possessions behind, having to ration food and water, being watched by hard-faced soldiers, suddenly having a curfew; all these things were more than a little jarring for people accustomed to a routinely life. Folk were wary and jumpy. More than a few were mistrustful of the officials and each other. But the main undercurrent in the colonist's mood was one of hope. Hope that the fleets would arrive in time to protect them from the aliens.

Aliens! Despite everything, it was still hard to believe sometimes.

"Let me leave!"

The raised voice snapped Lucretia back to reality. She realized, sheepishly, that she was once more not paying any attention to her surroundings, lost in thought.

In front of one of the tunnels that led to the higher chambers, currently off-limits to civilians, was a very angry-looking man trying his best to stare down a female soldier. The soldier appeared unimpressed.

"Go back into your tent, sir."

"So you are keeping us prisoners here, now? I demand to be allowed back into my home!"

"Citizen, you have been brought here for your own protection."

"Protection from what? There is no one out there yet, if they even are coming! Surely you can allow one man to visit his rightful property!"

The woman seemed to be getting just as angry. It was probably not the first time she had to deal with a dissatisfied colonist that day.

"No one can leave, sir. No exceptions. We don't know when the enemy will arrive and we cannot waste time looking for lost people when they do."

"I'm not asking you lumbering fools to look for me!" he pointed and accusing finger. "I'm asking for my right to not be held prisoner by my own government. What's next, you will tell us to pick up shovels and start digging?"

The Marine took a threatening step forward. "Now, listen here citizen…"

"What's going on here?"

The new voice was male, and familiar. Another soldier came out from the tunnel and walked up to the pair. She could see the stock of what she recognized as a designated marksman rifle coming over his right shoulder.

"Wesker, go back to the barracks and take a break. I will deal with this."

She sent a venomous look to the civilian. "He is all yours, Hughes." then she left.

"Now," the soldier begun, in much calmer voice than his fellow, "what is the problem, sir?"

The man crossed his arms and gave a withering look. "Like I was saying to your friend, I need to go to my home and collect some things."

"Sir, you were given time to pick up any essential possessions."

"You people didn't tell us we could be here for weeks! I need some other stuff!"

The Marine put up his hands in a placating gesture. "Sir, I understand your anger, but trying to shout your way out won't help you. Even if we could allow you to leave, there isn't a single transport that could take you to your settlement. Please, we have many provisions here, what is it that you need? Maybe something can be arranged."

The man look mutinous for long seconds. But the calm and understanding look on the soldiers face seemed to knock the fight out of him. With a sigh, he lowered his arms and shook his head.

"Look, it's just… it's my daughter. She is only two and she is very scared of being here. She won't stop crying. There's this old stuffed cat she had since she was born that always calms her down. In all the hurry to pack up, we forgot it." he looked only lost now, anger replaced by concern.

The soldier made a face and put his hand to his neck, thinking. "What is your settlement, sir?"

"Inner 04."

"All right, look. We still have teams going out and around the nearby settlements. I will explain your situation to my sergeant. Give me your address, and if a squad pass through 04, we will tell them to visit your house."

"You will?" he looked very surprised.

"I can't make any promises, sir. It is very possible that they won't be able to. But I will do my best."

"I guess it's more than anyone else will be willing to do. Very well, soldier." He told him the location of his habitation unit and the sector of his tent.

The Marine took it down, then gave the man a firm look. "Now please, sir, try not to give the soldiers any grief. We are here to keep you safe, but we need your help to do that."

"I know. I will try. And thank you, soldier."

"You are welcome, sir."

With that, the man walked away, a defeated cast to his shoulders.

The Marine gave an exhausted sigh and made to move on, but Lucretia called to him.

"Elliot!"

He stopped and turned around. On seeing her, a smile came to his lips. The look on his brown eyes was one of relief.

"Hey there!" she came closer and gave him a tight, one armed hug. He returned it, careful not to hurt her with hard ceramic plates. "I was worried when I didn't see you in Green 14 during the evacuation."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was busting my back setting up all the stuff in here. Actually, I was going to the third chamber right now to get some cases of medigel for our medics. Where is your tent?"

She pointed to another nearby tunnel to the next chamber, the same one he would have to take. Ignoring her protests, he took half of the packages she was carrying and just waited until she sighed and relented. Then they both started to walk there, now keeping a respectful distance for proprieties' sake. The man was on duty, after all.

She had been seeing Elliot Hughes for almost three months now. He was only slightly older than her, having recently turned nineteen, and was fresh from Advanced Training as a rifleman. He graduated with enough merit and distinction to enter service straight as a Private First Class. He was also very proud of achieving a qualification as a marksman.

"Rough day?" she asked, referring to the earlier incident.

"You wouldn't believe." He passed a tired hand in front of his face. "That guy back there? He was one of the good ones. We have been dealing with scared and angry people all day. And it's not just the civilians, tempers are high on all sides." he exhaled tiredly. "Honestly, we soldiers are lucky. We usually just step in when things seem like they are about to get violent. The colony officials are the ones taking the brunt of it."

He shook his head and looked at her. "So, you guys have settled in alright?"

She nodded. "As well as can be expected. Samesh is still a little lost, poor guy. He is big enough to understand that something very dangerous may happen, but he doesn't really get the full scope of the situation. I think he is mostly torn between being afraid and being excited about meeting an E.T."

The soldier gave a slight smile. "Ah, I think that might actually be a very normal reaction for a boy his age."

"Yeah."

"And your mother?"

"Mom has been a surprise, really. She is usually so protective of us, Samesh in particular. I thought she would be more panicked. Not that she doesn't worry, you see, she doesn't like it when either of us is out of her sight for too long. But all things considered, she has been pretty cool." she did not voice her suspicions about the conversation Harry had with her mother before they heard about the aliens. She was almost certain the Voyager had found out about the situation somehow and had reassured the woman about it. It was the only explanation she could think of for her behavior.

And to think the man had the audacity to say he did not have any 'super-secret Voyager contacts'.

Then he gave her a serious but caring look. "And what about you?"

The girl took a moment to think about her answer. "I would be lying if I said I'm not a little afraid. I mean, we don't know scrap about these creatures. For all we know, they can lift cars and shoot lasers from their eyes." then her grip on the packages she was carrying became much stronger. "But mostly, I am angry. Angry that they would attack one of our ships and kill all those people without reason. Angry that they may come to Shanxi when we have done absolutely nothing against them. And very angry that they may end up threatening my family and my friends." she took a deep breath. "Frankly, I am envious of you. I wish I were old enough to have passed boot camp already, then maybe I could've been fighting with you guys."

That had been the compromise she reached with her mother. Avani was not opposed to her daughter entering military service, but insisted that she finish her secondary education in the civilian system first.

The Marine shook his head fondly. "Well, forgive me for saying this, but for my part, I'm relieved you are not old enough to be in the Navy yet. I will definitely fight easier knowing you are safe down here, Lu."

She knew he did not mean that as a slight against her abilities or her courage, so she let it slide. The other part of his statement she could not let pass, however. "Drop the 'Lu', Elliot."

He grinned, obviously already expecting that response. "Yes, yes, how could I forget? Sorry, Lucretia."

She did not take his bait, and just gave a mock-haughty nod. She knew some people found her name a bit of a mouthful, and that the urge to shorten it was great. But she liked her name, and did not let almost anyone mangle it.

Strangely enough, she did not had any problem with Harry calling her 'Letia', and he had been doing that practically from the moment they first met. In the beginning, she thought that it was due to her initial crush on the man, but quickly dismissed the feeling. She had boyfriends before, and she was definitely attracted to Elliot, but she had not let any of them give her nicknames. In the end, she realized that Harry always had felt a little like family, the cool and quirky uncle, and 'Letia' had been the same name her grandfather used for her in her childhood.

When she thought about it, Harry reminded her very much of her grandfather. It must be part of why she liked him so much.

She shot a sly look to the young soldier at her side that went unnoticed. She still remembered that day, about a month ago. They had gone out a few times, so she had brought him for lunch in her house, to introduce him to her mother. They had just finished eating and the man had apparently passed the 'mother test', when their neighbor came by. He took one look at Elliot and immediately took him away so they could 'have a pint and a talk'. The private never told her what that conversation entailed, despite her constant nagging, but whenever he talked about Harry from that day on, it was always with the kind of respect one would expect to be reserved for an admired high-ranked officer.

The next day, the Voyager told them that Elliot 'was a good chap'. And that was that.

He kept talking. "What about Mr. Evans, is he together with you?"

She took a few seconds to respond. Harry had actually stayed with them all the way from when Sergeant Dale came to their house, until they had settled in their tent. After that, he announced he had to take care of some business outside the cave and had gone away, but not before promising to be back in time for curfew and asking them not to tell anyone where he had gone to. She had no idea how he was going to pass through the heavily guarded entrance to the shelter, but knew better than to doubt that he could. "He is sharing the tent with us, yes. Along with the Baumanns and the Flints. But he had to go do some stuff in another chamber and shouldn't be back for some hours, according to him." there, it was not technically a lie.

The Marine was slightly confused. "Really? Well, I suppose there are many people he must know around here, he must be catching up with them. It's just that some of the guys are trying to map out a side tunnel and I thought he could help, seeing as that is right up his alley. Wonder where exactly he is?"

"Dunno. Giving the size of this place, I guess we can only wait until he shows up again."

"And 'where exactly he is' is a damn good question." she added in her mind.

---

"And now there is dirt on my floor!"

"I know, I'm sorry."

"And he got his greasy fingerprints all over my console!"

"I know, girl, that's awful and I'm sorry."

"And he had the nerve to put his filthy feet up on my dashboard!"

"Astrid, I place my feet on your dashboard all the time."

She ignored him. "And he smelled! I am sure he didn't bathe in over a week!"

"Now that's just absurd. You don't even have a sense of smell. I could stop bathing for a year and you would not be able to notice."

"Ha! That's where you are wrong, Mr. Smarty-pants. I always know when you take your showers."

Harry paused. He really wanted to comment on that piece of information, but thought better of it, and just kept working.

As he waved his wand in slow circles around the entrance to one of the civilian shelters, he was very thankful this particular set of wards was so second-nature to him that they required only patience and not much concentration. Because he was doubtful he could manage one of the more unfamiliar schemes with his ship's relentless exposition of all that was making her angry right then.

"And all these sad flying bricks around here are making me depressed. Honestly, why they all have to be this boring shade of blue? Couldn't they throw some warmer stuff in there? What's the problem with red?"

"All right, the masking and aversion layers are done. Now to start on the Shield Ward." before that, he answered. "Girl, most of those are military vehicles, they have to follow a pattern. And many people love the color blue."

"Yeah? Well, some people have taste."

Harry let out a small sigh, and started casting. This was one of those times where he really could not reprimand his ship too much. Being locked up in a concealed hangar inside of a cave with the other small land and aircrafts on Shanxi, and knowing that this could last for weeks, would not be his preferred method of spending time either. Still, he knew that this was mostly Astrid's indignation about being 'manhandled by some glorified apes with the flying skills of a groundhog'. She had other means to amuse herself while being grounded. She would eventually calm down and stop complaining so much.

He just hoped that happened before she drove him bonkers.

He sent a look to the Marine squad down below, who were keeping watch behind natural rock formations that did a good job of concealing the cave's mouth, both from the ground and from the sky. They were armed to the teeth, there were heavy machine gun and mortar nests resting at both sides of the entrance, and he knew there was a sniper team in there ready to take position around the slopes of the low hills where the shelter's entrance was located. There was also an entire wing of small but deadly combat drones stationed inside the cave. The soldiers were currently relaxed, but ready for action. Between their eyes and the monitoring equipment, nothing should be able come within a kilometer of the shelter without their knowing.

And yet here he was, standing on the slope above them and casting magic all around, with them none the wiser. A combination of some very powerful masking spells, and a mild Redirection Charm, made sure that he went about his job undetected. It was unfair, really, how easy it was to hide from non-magicals. Any wizard or witch with a minimal skill at Sensing would never be able to miss the charge of arcane energy all around them, if they were standing inside the ward line.

On the other hand, he was sure many spellcasters of his time would not have either the knowledge or presence of mind to account for all the electronic surveillance systems, like the motion and thermal sensor array not five meters from him, and would think that just fooling human eyes and ears would be enough.

Soon he had completed yet another 360º turn of the entrance, and watched as the faintly shimmering silver dome disappeared from sight. The Shield layer was complete. "Now, for the finish." he brought the holly wand close to his chest, and started a long chain of incantations, while concentrating his will. "Unmask the aggressors who would assault this place. Strike against those who wish harm upon the innocent sheltered here. Let there be ruin in turn to those who bring ruin to this home. By Fire's wrath, by Lightning's fury, by Earth's rage." as he chanted, he could feel his Magic shaping itself. Inside him was now a spear of power, strong and sharp and unbending. When he felt the power close to bursting, he jabbed his wand straight up.

"Strenuissimum Custos Malleus!" a blood-red orb shot out from the focus, rising up in the air a short distance to suddenly explode outwards with a thunderclap that went mostly unheard. The crimson wave of energy descended to form yet another dome around the small hill. It stood there for a few seconds, before it, too, vanished. But Harry could feel the change in the surrounding magic, it was now heavy and unforgiving. It was judging him, making sure that he was not a threat. The wizard had deliberately not included an exemption for himself in the layer. The more exceptions one made to a ward, the easier it was to take it down.

"What the hell?!"

Despite all his concealment magic, that last light show had not gone completely unnoticed. The soldiers were suddenly on their feet, scanning the environment with suspicion, weapons draw. They had not actually seen or heard much, but such a powerful casting would disrupt the local energy field and overwhelm the masking spells a little. But the Redirection Charm...

"Did everyone see that?" asked one of them.

"Yeah, it was like a flash of lightning. Humm… the sky is a little hazy." answered another. "Gary, anything?"

"Nothing, sarge. No unusual readings whatsoever. It was probably just a thunder flash, like you said, but I will run a full scan."

"You do that. All right boys, back to your places, but keep your eyes open."

"Aye, aye, sir!" answered the squad.

...would make sure they found an explanation that was reasonable to them. He stood still for a while as they calmed down, then picked up his large mokeskin pouch and took out a granite slab from it. It was about the size of a book and filled with inscribed runes. He put it inside the hole he had made before he began his casting. A few more incantations later, the runes flashed yellow, green, silver and then a blood-red, as the wards were properly anchored. That made sure they would last until broken down or overwhelmed. Well, they would also fade after about a fortnight, but there was nothing he could do about that except to recast them. True wardstones required a planet's Living Magic to be created, after all.

Closing the hole, that was now undistinguishable from the surrounding ground, he sat down for a few minutes to catch his breath. That last ward was very powerful, as had been the shield before it, and took quite a bit out of him. Considering he had cast that array six times in the last four hours, he was just a tad knackered. And before that, it was all those hours at the lab. Come to think of it, the last time he got any considerable length of sleep was when he and Astrid went flying, more than two days ago.

He put a hand in his coat pocket and took out a small glass flask filled with a dark yellow liquid, which was bubbling slightly. Opening the little, hermetically sealed, metallic flap at the top (and remembering fondly about the time he used to put corks on the darned things), he downed the contents in a single gulp, easily suppressing the usual shudder at the horrible taste. Immediately, he felt his Magic regain a little strength.

"And that was the last shelter." he let out a relieved sigh.

"Good to know at least one of us is having fun." despite her words, Astrid's voice had lost much of its earlier scorn.

Wishing to stave off further grumblings and keep it that way, he asked. "Have you finished those mappings?"

She still had a few choice words for the pilots sent to relocate her, before replying. "Yeah. I have identified the ideal locations for every one of the resonance orbs. I also calculated the arithmantic overlay, but for this to work, you will have to calibrate every single orb individually."

He nodded, unseen. He already expected that. "Got it. I will do that after setting up the traps." he considered his plans for a moment. "Actually, forget that, I will leave them for last. I really need a break from all this ward casting. Let's take care of the orbs first. Are you absolutely sure you can keep their systems operational?"

The exasperation in her voice could not be more obvious. "Who do you think you're talking to? I've got my pretty claws all over their network. Just make sure you leave those openings for me, and I will see that the jarheads don't freak out about losing their sensors."

He shook his head. "Astrid, I'm serious. It isn't just about the magic. Do you think you can defend the Alliance's battle network from invaders? I mean, invaders other than yourself, of course."

"Very funny, just remember who gave me permission to do this."

"As if that ever stopped you before." he muttered.

She ignored him again. "I won't know what I'm dealing with until the E.T.s arrive and actually try to hack into the network, will I? But you can be damn sure no simple virus or cyberwarfare program will get through me. I won't be able to do much of anything against external ECM though."

"I know. Alliance tech will just have to hold its own on that arena."

"Yeah, and let's hope our visitors don't have anyone like Eliza at their disposal."

Harry felt a shiver go through him at the name, familiar dark memories surging to his mind. Even so, he tried to keep his voice neutral. "Yes, let's very much hope so."

Astrid was silent for a moment, and when she spoke there was a grudgingly apologetic note in her voice. "Ok, sorry. I babbled out without thinking."

"It's all right, girl. Let's just… not talk about that now, please?"

She went quiet. Probably to avoid saying anything else about the only truly sore subject between them. Harry took the chance to gaze at the countryside. The red plains went as far as the eye could see, cut here and there by the occasional small river. To the west, almost beyond the horizon, he could see the beginning of one of Shanxi's mires.

He gazed at the cloudy sky. Somewhere for above them, almost six hundred men and women waited for an unknown number of very likely hostile ships to arrive. The wizard wished there was something substantial he could do for them, he really did, but his powers would be of no help in a space battle.

He decided they had both sulked for long enough. "Well, I hope to finish with the defenses before curfew. I promised Ms. Bhatia I would spend the night with them, and it is better not to raise too much suspicion back at the shelter. For now, anyway."

And luckily, she agreed. "Speaking about suspicions, you do realize some of things you're doing are not exactly low-key, don't you? I will do my best to fool their sensors and tweak any questionable recordings, but if half of the wards you are setting up actually goes off, there are going to be some very inexplicable stuff going on around here. Look at that Retaliation Ward. I don't think many people are going to believe some god suddenly decided to smite the enemies of mankind. And let's not even start with the Orbs, you know what it will mean."

He picked up a small stone next to him and started to randomly transfigure it into different things: a bright yellow marble, then a toy soldier, then a white mouse. "I know this is a cat that may never go back into its bag, but I can't let all these people get hurt if I can help it, Astrid. If that means leaving the Alliance with a lot of unanswered questions, so be it."

"Hey, I get you. But remember you are just one guy, you can't obliviate everyone on the planet, okay?" suddenly, she was all brightness. "And, who knows? If they come casting fireballs and turning Marines into some kind of six-legged alien sheep, your spellwork might just pass unnoticed."

He snorted and turned the little rodent squeaking up on his shoulder back into a rock. "Right, because that would be so much better." he got up and stretched. His Magic was back to proper state, but he would definitely need a good nap after he was done for the day. He once again picked up his enlarged pouch. This time, he took out an iron orb as large as his hand, encircled by three polished stone rings. He turned it in his hand, looking at the extraordinarily fine runework on the bands. The wizard doubted very much he could replicate them. "Can you give me the first location?"

"Yeah, the back of a depot in Central's spaceport, no one is in the area right now. Here you go."

The image of a deserted patio surrounded by tall walls appeared on his visor. He studied the shot for a moment then nodded to himself.

"Thank you, girl. Let's get this done." he walked down a little and canceled most of the masking charms around the soldiers and their equipment. The rest would fade on their own soon enough. Then he gave one last cursory inspection to his wards and, satisfied, Disapparated with a faint crack.

---

General Joseph Williams watched as his people scurried around their new, improvised Headquarters in the kind of organized chaos that could only be seen in a military garrison gearing up for battle. Despite their situation, he could not suppress a feeling of pride at his Marines. Setting up the temporary facilities inside the cave and transferring most of their equipment from the main base at Central in a little more than two days was a feat all by itself. That it had been done while still giving logistical and personnel support to the civilian evacuation was worthy of high praise. If he could, he would give them all a medal just for that.

Commendations would have to wait, though. He turned from the windows and once again directed his attention to the many monitoring screens all around the Command Center. Half of them showed data, while the other half exhibited live footage from the colony. A large, hastily installed holographic table dominated the room. Connecting to the many sensor stations they had scattered all around, it displayed an accurate three-dimensional map of Central and the surrounding region. Zooming about were the various blue dots representing their vehicles and squads.

Arranged in a circle around the table, fourteen specialists and operators sat at their stations, tapping away at their keyboards and maintaining a constant stream of conversation with each other and the elements on the field.

"General."

Williams took his eyes from the screen currently displaying images of a team installing a gun emplacement on the upper floors of one of the taller cluster of prefab units in the city, to look at his aide-de-camp.

"Yes, Brody?"

The younger man took a moment to scan his datapad before giving his report. "Sir, O'Neil's people informs us that all the easily located civilian population has been evacuated as of half an hour ago. As ordered, we have two companies standing guard over the shelters. For the most part, colony officials have everything under control. We had to step in a handful of times to separate a more rowdy group, but we don't foresee any problems for the short term. Of course, the longer the isolation and martial rules stand, the harder will be to keep them calm."

The general nodded, that was only expected. Procedures like the rationing of food and water, along with the curfew, were as much precautionary measures as they were a kind of psychological induction. They got people used to a time were there could be precious little of both supplies and safety.

The aide continued. "There is still up to three hundred registered civilians who are unaccounted for. Those are the ones who decided to live as hermits in remote areas, or those we simply could not find in the Settlements and did not respond to the calls. It's likely the latter have found bolt-holes and are staying there. In either case, there is little we can do to help them in such a short time-frame."

"Unfortunate, but not surprising." commented Williams. He gestured to the holo table and they both moved to look over it. "We will just have to pray those people can look after themselves. Now, tell me about my Marines."

"Preparations of the defensive positions all around the city and the countryside are well underway. Secondary lines of communication have been secured. We have found some other hidden areas our people can retreat to if needed. We are starting to strain our arms reserves, but every squad should have full gear. Small arms munitions we have plenty, but heavy weapons will have to be used very carefully. The personnel guarding the old city base report all guns fully operational."

The general closed the map on the main Alliance garrison on Central. It was big, fortified and had their only fixed artillery and anti-air batteries. They could not shoot anything at orbit, but if the enemy tried to invade, the complex would be the most obvious target. They would try to defend it for as long as they could, if only to buy some time.

The aide continued. "The field officers are reporting uncertainty in the ranks, sir, as our boys and girls still don't know what exactly they are going to do."

Williams acknowledged that with a grunt. While the defensive flotilla in orbit above Shanxi already had a taste of the enemy's capabilities and knew what they would do, which was to try and cause as much damage to any attacking fleet as possible, the human ground forces were caught in a quandary. While they were working with the assumption of the full-scale extermination of all human presence on the planet, the very worst case scenario, the truth was that nobody knew anything about the enemy's objectives and how exactly they would go about fulfilling them.

Would they station their ships in orbit and bombard any visible facilities with kinetic impactors, or try and deploy ground elements, or both? Would they restrict themselves to military targets or attack anything indiscriminately? Would they march across the surface like medieval armies of old or employ small unit guerrilla tactics? Would they employ tanks, close air support, artillery, drones, or giant walkers? Would they resort to nuclear, chemical or even biological weapons? What kind of electronic countermeasures could they use? What about cyberwarfare? There were a hundred factors to consider and the Marine's strategy could change drastically based on any single one of them.

General Williams clutched the edge of the table so hard, his hand hurt. Aside from the fact they would have to wait for the enemy's first moves to decide on any kind of response, he was very much aware that anything they did here would be nothing but a delaying tactic. Ground elements could never defend a planet without naval support. If the 7th was defeated, or forced to leave, the only hope for the people of Shanxi was the timely arrival of the Fleets. He refused to share his true feelings on that matter with his troops, last they lose their courage.

"What about D'Amico's people?" he asked.

"They have integrated with our forces well, General. There are all the usual servicemen-privates jokes and jabs, but it is all in good spirit. Their shuttles and support personnel have been especially helpful in setting up our defenses."

Like most other Marine detachments on the frontier worlds, the Shanxi Garrison was relatively small, having around five hundred battle-ready soldiers, and over half that number as support staff. To bolster these forces, the 7th Flotilla and the Shanxi defensive group had transferred every man and woman they could spare, raising the number of infantry soldiers to just over seven hundreds, of which about a third would remain in the hidden shelters to protect the civilians. Another third would be distributed around the improvised strongholds and the original base, and the rest would remain in reserve at the cave housing the new HQ.

They had two dozen lightly armored and armed service vehicles, and just five heavy-duty APCs. Those would remain at HQ until it was decided how to best utilize them.

"So, things up there are still the same?" he asked.

"The last update from the Rear Admiral said they have finished clearing the civilian ships from the system. We managed to put almost eight hundred colonists inside them, mostly the young and the elderly of Central. They were instructed very firmly to follow random paths towards Shanxi-Alpha and avoid the Silk Road. It is really tough luck that we are in the down season."

Shanxi-Alpha was the Mass Relay that connected the cluster to main Alliance space, and its system was located almost nine light-years from Shanxi. The straight path connecting both systems was dubbed the 'Silk Road' by the locals. Civilian vessels were generally much slower than warships and could take days to travel that distance, so the ships that came to Shanxi carrying supplies, construction materials and new colonists preferred to come 'in bulk'. Once a month, a small fleet of freighters, passenger ships and other civilian vessels would cross the Silk Road and spend almost a week transferring their cargo and making business. They would then go back together. Unfortunately, the last 'merchant fleet' had left just the week before. If they had been on site, almost half of the population could have been crammed up inside them and be safely taken off system.

"The Flotilla is just waiting now. And I think Mercier might just be hoping for D'Amico's Plan B to be needed." concluded Brody.

"They are both completely crazy, that's what they are." Williams scratched at the long scar running from the right side of his face. He was not sure how he felt about the Admiral's backup plan. Still, the man had balls, he would give him that.

"Desperate situations and all that, sir." it was clear the younger man agreed with him.

"I know. Thank you for the update, Brody. Could you…"

"Huh, General Williams, sir?"

They both turned to the source of interruption, a specialist sitting at what he remembered was one of the sensors monitoring stations. She kept turning from looking at her monitor to one of the screens on the wall and back, a confused look on her face, as she tapped commands on her console so fast the general felt his fingers cramp just by watching it. He sent a quick look at her nametag.

"What is it, Chief Warrant Lasky?"

"Sir, I just lost all contact with the sensors at Central for a second? It was probably a minor glitch, we did just put all this equipment together in the last few hours, and everything is green now. But still, I recommend having some people go over the relay stations again, just to be sure."

"Agreed. Can you see to it?"

"I can, sir."

"Then do it, I give you permission to request a team."

"Aye, aye, sir."

When she still shot suspicious looks at the screen on the corner, he decided to ask. "Miss Lasky, anything wrong with those gates?"

The screen in question showed images from the security cameras at the old base. It was currently centered on one of the fortified entrances to the main complex.

She was startled for just a moment, but was quick to respond. "No, sir. It's nothing."

There was still uncertainty in her voice, though. Williams gave a frown and allowed a sterner tone to coat his words. "If you think something is amiss, Chief, say it now. When the aliens start shooting at our doors, it will be too late."

Some of the surrounding specialists and officers where discreetly keeping an ear on the conversation now, others not so subtly. The warrant officer seemed well aware of that. Still, she straightened and answered her superior. "Sir, right before our systems had their momentary disconnection, I was looking at the feed of the base. I know this will sound ridiculous, General, but I can swear I saw the gates… flash."

Williams frown got even harsher. "Flash?"

"As in lit up in a bright orange light, General. It was very fast, but I know it was there. And it was not the whole image, sir, just the gates. The thing is, I have checked the recording and there was nothing unusual." a snicker could be heard from the back of the room, and a little bit of red appeared on the woman's cheeks. She kept her face serious, however, eyes open and sincere.

Joseph Williams was short and stocky. He was known and respected as a tough man and a strict, but fair, leader. He would be the first to admit he could use a little more patience and a better temper, something his wife often made a point to remind him of. All that had earned him the unofficial nickname of 'the Bulldog' among the Marines.

That was made evident when he turned a furious look to the rest of the room and almost barked. "Did I tell anyone to stop working?! Get back to your duties!"

Everyone hastily went back to whatever they were doing before and did their best to avoid looking at the pair. The general shook his head with a derisive snort. Was he really thinking about giving this bunch of gossip wives a medal earlier?

"Humpf. Now, Ms. Lasky, I am not saying anything, but you are absolutely sure of what you saw, correct?"

"Yes, General."

"And after that, the sensors at Central HQ had their little jump?"

"Almost simultaneously, sir."

"Very well. I want you to run a full check on the network and go see about those relays, I will take care of this."

"Aye, aye, sir." she said once more.

He strode to one of the other warrant officers in the room. "Comms!"

The man shot up from his chair and gave a picturebook salute, barely disguising his nervousness. He had been one of the people giving Chief Lasky a condescending look.

"Sir!"

"Contact the base. I want a patrol to conduct a general search of the premises. Tell them to send a team to do examine the northern doors of the main building. Tell them to be careful and treat it as if it was a possible target of dynamic entry. Also, check out the cameras and other sensors. Just tell them we had some strange readings and want to make sure everything is in order."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

With a last severe nod, he went back to Lieutenant Brody, who had remained silent and impassive during the whole thing.

"Do you believe this story, sir?" he asked in a low voice, making sure no one could hear him, especially the warrant officer.

Williams just grunted. "Frankly, Jason, we are waiting for a bunch of aliens to come and blown us all to hell. I, for one, am not going to leave a single damn thing to chance."

The aide just nodded, and continued in a normal tone. "Would you like to go over our supply lists and how long we expect them to last, sir?"

"Please, Lieutenant."

The next half an hour was spent reviewing their inventory of food, medicaments and other supplies. It was not an encouraging report. Civilians and soldiers considered, they had enough food for three weeks, at most. After that, they would have to scavenge the city for more.

A few hours later, Comms informed him that the Marines had found nothing wrong with the doors except for a small and persistent static charge, which was very puzzling but not dangerous. The cameras and sensors were fine, too. Chief Lasky also reported that her people checked the relays and that everything was green in the battle network. She apologized profusely, but the general simply waved her off.

Williams decided to consider both matters closed. Still, he found himself giving periodic glances to Central HQ video feeds for the rest of the day.

---

Almost 250.000 kilometers away from Shanxi, the 7th Expeditionary Flotilla stood in waiting for their enemies to arrive, as they had done for the past 61 hours. It was now almost four days since their frigate, the SSV Aldenhoven, had been shot down by an alien force close to the dormant Shanxi-Theta Mass Relay.

Rear Admiral Carlos D'Amico let out a weary breath. The long waiting was both a blessing, and a curse. On one hand, it allowed them more time to prepare the colony. On the other hand, the long hours were starting to charge their toll. Marines and sailors of the Alliance Navy were tough. The genetic treatments that every member of the Navy underwent, their hard training, and a little help from chemical stimulants made them capable of supporting levels of stress and exhaustion that would have been unthinkable to human armies a hundred years earlier. But three days of almost uninterrupted vigil were beginning to shown in the faces of his people. Another day of this, and their performance would be compromised.

There was little they could do, though. The soldiers down on Shanxi could have the luxury long sleeps, even if at their posts. Up here, only a few winks were allowed, and the reason for that was a simple one: light-lag. That little aspect of astrophysics was both the boon and bane of every single commander of a military warship. It all depended if you were the one attacking, or the one being attacked. At any moment, an enemy fleet could jump out of FTL right on top of them and start shooting.

They simply could not afford the few minutes it would take to rouse many sleeping servicemen, not now that they had transferred everyone they could down to the colony, and kept only essential personnel.

Speaking of which…

"D'Amico to Commander Mercier."

"I hear you, Admiral."

"How are you and your people holding up, son?"

"As well as we can, Admiral. Don't worry, the Dragons are a 100% ready. Just don't ask us to get out of these chairs before this is done. I don't think we will be able to walk straight again for a good while."

The old officer let out a small laugh. Mercier could use a little more respect for authority, but he was damn good at what he did.

"Has Captain Drugov stopped complaining yet, sir?"

"He has, thank the heavens."

"The plan is a little sketchy, sir."

"I didn't hear you protesting at the briefing, Commander."

"Oh, I think it's brilliant, Admiral, if it works. That doesn't change the fact that it's also madness."

D'Amico looked at the stars outside the Nairobi's windows. He could see four of their frigates holding position around the cruiser, one of those being the Kings Mountain. Captain Drugov and his people made an admirable job of repairing the wounded ship, and she was now back to 81% operational capacity. Anything better would require a dry dock.

Their other two frigates, along with the three belonging to Shanxi's permanent detachment were keeping positions outside of his visual range. At their starboard glowed the pale orange light of the innermost of Shanxi's two moons, Zhou, about half the size and distance from its host planet than Luna. Like Earth's satellite, the moon was tidally locked to Shanxi, the same side always turned to the planet's surface. Unlike Earth's satellite, Zhou had significant geological activity due to tidal heating between Shanxi and the more massive outer moon, Tang.

The Flotilla was in orbit around the moon, the position was a matter of necessity. Even if the chance of stray rounds or debris actually hitting one of the settlements was extremely low, no one wanted to risk a battle right over Shanxi. It was their first calculated gamble: that the aliens would not go straight for the planet, instead of confronting them. It would not be the last.

"Well, let us hope it is crazy enough to surprise our potential visitors."

"Indeed, sir. You know that Drugov is angrier about you staying on the Nairobi than about the overall plan, don't you?"

"Regardless, I will not abandon my ship." he said firmly.

"Oh, you won't hear me disagree. I could see how stubborn you were the moment I saw you, Admiral. Jun, too, except she is much easier on the eyes. But no offense to you, sir, you've aged well."

"It seems General Williams is far too lenient with his subordinates. And does my Commander knows you talk about her like that?" he wanted to sound reproaching, but after all the stress of the last few days, Mercier's irreverent personality was like a breath of fresh air. There had been far too many grim faces in the Flotilla, including his own.

"Nah, Williams would be stuck with that frown forever if not for me."

"Maybe you are the cause of the General's bad humor, Commander."

"You jest, Admiral. That couldn't possibly be true. As for Jun, she and I have an agreement. I promised to make her my famous quenelles whenever she wants, and she gives me permission to flirt with her as much as I want."

"I see. That sounds like a good trade-off."

"It is, the quenelles are dirty easy to make! Jun thinks there is some kind of secret formula, but she is just a horrible cook." then the man's voice lost its flamboyant tone and became sober. "And Admiral, just in case we don't have the time later, let me say that it has been an honor to serve with you, sir."

"That makes it both of us, Giles. I'm just sorry I have to drag you and your people into this mess as well."

"This is our colony, sir. We won't let any extraterrestrial salauds invade it. We can only hope that they don't bring their whole Navy."

When the Flotilla returned from Shanxi-Theta, D'Amico and the other senior officers immediately began a tense brainstorming session. Everyone believed they would soon be followed, the question was if it would be only by the fleet they had encountered, or if there would be even more ships. Everyone also knew the enemy had an advantage both on offense and defense. It was not that large of a difference, but enough to tilt the scales in any battle with comparable numbers. After hours of arguments, speeches, and not a few shouts, they had came up with two basic plans.

Plan A was to stand firm and fight ship for ship, until their last breath. They hoped good old human tenacity and clever maneuvering would win the day. This plan would be implemented if the aliens arrived with the same forces they had before.

If, however, significant reinforcements were present, to the point where a straight fight would be futile, they would have to go with Plan B.

Plan B was… complicated.

Suddenly, the lights in the bridge changed to an angry red. Alarms started to scream and every one of his people went from whispered conversations to frantic activity. Above all the noise was the voice of his Sensors Officer.

"Incoming ships! 150.000 klicks to our bow!"

150 thousand kilometers in front of the 7th Flotilla, dozens of electromagnetic bursts had broken the stillness of space. As each envelope of blue-shifted light dissipated, a different spaceship was revealed. Long and flat multilayered hulls were seemingly left unpainted but for two bright red patches on the wing-like extensions at the sides. The dull metallic color gave a strong contrast against the shiny white of the human vessels.

"Well, at least they are predictable. All hands to battle stations! Sensors, what do we have?!" shouted the admiral.

"Nothing good, sir. We have fourteen of the 127m frigate-weight ships, five 160m heavy frigates, and four cruisers, all at 493m. Twenty-three hostiles, sir."

"Dear Lord." he heard one of the sailors speak in dismay.

Well, D'Amico could not disagree.

"Looks like Plan A just got scrapped." said Mercier.

"Indeed. Though now I actually hope that is their whole navy, Commander. Stand ready to move at my mark."

Mercier's voice was deadly serious now. "Aye, aye, sir." then he disconnected.

"All frigates, form in front of the Nairobi!"

"All ships confirm orders, sir!" informed Comms.

"Helm, close those windows."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

With the klaxon turned off, they could hear the faint whirring as heavy blast plates, three layers in total, closed one after the other around the cruiser's bridge windows. When the last set connected with a dull bang that seemed to reverberate through the whole room, the large tactical screens at the front and to both sides were activated, showing the same view from before. The screens were mostly for the Commanding Officer's benefit. Helm, Sensors, Guns, and others that required external data had their own personal feeds sent directly to their stations, when they did not operate by instruments alone.

"Navigation, give me a tactical map. Designate the hostiles."

"Here it goes, Admiral."

A portion of the main screen was sectioned off, and started to display an 'overhead' digital map of the battle field. A large green circle represented Shanxi, a smaller one, its moon. Nine blue dots signalized their frigates, while a larger square was the Nairobi. At the other side of the map, nineteen yellow dots and triangles showed the enemy frigates, while the cruisers appeared as red squares.

"Sir, the hostiles have stopped at 90.000 klicks. They are holding position. Thermal readings confirm weapons primed on all ships."

"All frigates have arrived and are in position."

"What now, Carlos?" asked his Executive Officer.

"Now," he sat at his chair and laid his arms at the armrests, grey eyes narrowed in thought, "we wait for their move."

---

"General Arterius, as our preliminary scans showed, the enemy is still holding position above of the inner moon. We can now confirm they are the same seven ships the 53rd found before, plus the additional three frigates we saw in the data Palaven Command sent us."

"Very good, soldier. What else?"

"Sir, we detect a small complex of structures near the moon's south pole. Judging by the excavations surrounding it, it is likely a mining facility." answered one of his Sensors operators.

Another spoke. "There are small artificial objects scattered in orbit above the moon, roughly 15m in size, at least twenty of them. We won't be sure until we are closer, but they could be a defense grid of some kind."

"Curious. Keep a close eye on both, soldiers."

"Yes, General."

"Yes, sir!"

Desolas Arterius stood upon the central platform of the Penitent Justice's Combat Information Center, arms crossed at his chest. All around him, his legionnaires sat at their stations, seeing to their duties with the firm concentration that was expected of them.

The CIC had no external windows of any kind. Like all Hierarchy warships, the command center and bridge were located in the center of the hull, were they could enjoy the greatest protection from the armor. All outside images were transmitted through monitors. In front of the platform, a large holographic table currently showed three-dimensional images of their adversaries.

"What can you tell me of the planet, Specialist?"

"Standard garden world, General. Oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, average surface gravity, below average surface temperature. There is very little in orbit: a large structure that is most likely a refueling station, and a handful of satellites. The whole area is very sparse, sir. This is either a very recent colony, a low priority one, or both."

Desolas nodded. "Agreed. That leaves the tantalizing question of where, exactly, these people live. And what forces they could have there. Fate willing, we will have answers to those questions soon." he put his arms at his back and adopted a straight, but relaxed, posture. "Comms, hail the cruiser, please. Use the language they tried before. Tell them we wish to talk."

"Huh, sir? I thought our orders were to subjugate them?" normally, a turian would not dare to question a direct order. But Desolas encouraged his soldiers to express their doubts to him, if the situation was not critical.

"Why, of course, Specialist. Those are indeed our orders, and we shall fulfil them to our utmost capacity. There is, however, no need to resort straight to violence, if a little diplomacy might yield us the same results, yes? Besides, it is only common courtesy."

"Yes, sir! Sending the hails now, General."

"Thank you. And soldier?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep the channel private, if you would. I want only those in this CIC to heart it."

"Of course, sir."

"Thank you again, soldier." he turned to the central monitor. "Now, what game shall we play?"

---

"Admiral, we are receiving tight beam transmissions on multiple bands from one of the cruisers. I believe they are hails, sir." said Sensors.

"Humpf, so now they want to talk? Comms, make sure your system is completely isolated from the ship's network, then you can take that call. Record everything and add it to our data package after you make sure it's clean. Also, stream the signal to General Williams. Remind him to take the same precautions."

"Aye, aye, sir."

In cyberwarfare, a ship's communication systems were the primary doorways into the vessel's intranet. As such, they possessed multiple firewalls, buffering layers, redundancies, and were designed to physically disconnect from the ship's mainframe.

"Admiral, I am getting audio. It is in Prothean, sir."

"So, they are protheans?" asked his Chief Navigator.

"Heh, if they are," responded his Gunnery Officer, "they sure as hell have been just sitting on their hands for the last 50.000 years. Those ships have no tech different from the ones we found on Mars."

"I think we will know soon enough, gentlemen. What are they saying?" interrupted D'Amico.

"They are asking to talk to the Commanding Officer, sir. Their speech patterns are coming out very fluently, it's astounding. Native language or not, they have complete dominion over it."

Real-time translation software was something humanity had perfected long before Mass Effect technology was found. If the received language was a well-known one, words were transmitted flawlessly along with timbre and emotional inflection. Accents were a matter of customization: one could make Russian translated to English have a stereotypical Russian accent, a New York accent, or even an exaggerated Japanese accent. It was all left to taste.

Most of the information on the Prothean Archives was stored and encrypted in mystifying ways that required painstaking research and examination. But one of the first things they found were complete instructions on a language and writing system that used images, sounds and even mathematical representations to teach the meaning of the words, eventually going into complex grammar and syntax. That the images often depicted very human-like figures and terrestrial features was the first proof the scientists had that protheans had studied ancient humans, and most likely interacted with them.

Learning Prothean was becoming a very popular thing back on Earth.

The admiral grunted. "I suppose that is a small blessing. Very well, Sergeant, tell them we will talk."

They all waited as Comms relayed their message. D'Amico felt a surge of hope, perhaps they could still resolve this without a battle. He could see that same hope on the faces of his people.

"Sir, their own commander will speak to you… sir, the transmission changed. It's a video stream."

"A true tête-à-tête, then. All right." The admiral got up from his chair, straightened his uniform, and walked to the center of the bridge, right in front of the main screen. He stood at parade rest. "Connect us, Sergeant, but focus the camera and mic only on myself. Let's see where this goes."

"Connecting you now, Admiral."

---

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

"Ugh, what? Astrid?"

"Wake up! We are receiving a transmission from the Flotilla, the aliens are here!"

"…show me."

---

D'Amico was sure he had let his shock register on his face for a moment. He did not knew exactly what he was expecting, but surely it had been nothing like this.

To start, the ship was not filled with water, or green gas; it was not made of crystal or organic tissue. There were no puddles of caustic ooze on the floor. There were chairs, consoles and monitors very similar to their and own, even if their interfaces were almost all holographic. Everything considered, it could almost pass for a human ship. As for the aliens…

Whenever he thought about a sapient alien species, especially in the last few days, many things came to mind: green skin, big heads, horns, tails, tentacles, and many stranger still. But in all his visions, their enemy had always been either very human-like, or so completely different as to look like beasts.

He honestly had not expected the truth to be half-way there.

The creatures in front of him were humanoid in shape. They stood upon two legs, had two arms, one head and two eyes. Everything else, however, was different.

"Holy shit! Somebody tell me I'm seeing this wrong, and those things aren't made of metal."

"Well, I know I'm not going within ten meters of one without a gun. Can you imagine trying to punch that face?"

"That's what electric-charged knuckledusters are for, man."

"Damn, they look like a cross between a dinosaur and a hawk."

"Yeah, a hawksaur made of fucking metal!"

As more whispered conversations followed, the admiral restrained the urge to talk his people down. At least the aliens would not hear them. Hastily schooling his features, he gazed hard on the small eyes of his supposed counterpart, the one standing upon the raised platform in the center of the image and clad in a silver-white suit, probably armor. He did not know the first thing about aliens expressions, but he could tell the creature's face and posture had not changed a millimeter since the connection began. He seemed unsurprised about a human's features.

What little he could see from the ship's interior was just like the outside; all hard metal and sharp angles, just like its inhabitants. There seemed to be a theme here. A theme that spoke of endurance, discipline, and ruthlessness, but that last part was probably just the admiral's prejudice speaking. Unlike his own rowdy sailors, he could see that the other members of the alien crew where all completely focused on their stations, only sparing occasional glances to him.

After what seemed like an eternity of the two military leaders assessing each other, the silver alien gave a nod, or what D'Amico thought was a nod, and began speaking.

"Greetings." the voice was another surprise. It was smooth, deep, and had a pronounced flanging. "I am Desolas Arterious, General of the Turian Hierarchy and commander of the 16th Enforcement Fleet, belonging to the 37th Vindex Legion. It is an honor to meet you, friends. I only wish it were under more auspicious circumstances."

At least he could understand it well enough, apart from a couple of words. He was still surprised though. Like Comms said, that greeting had been very… normal. What he would have expected from a foreign leader on Earth, and not one from a completely different species.

"Friends? Did that translate right?"

"Is this guy for real?"

"Forget that. Did you see all the fangs in that mouth? Or those claws?"

The admiral answered. "Rear Admiral Carlos Lucio D'Amico, of the Systems Alliance." he would not give them more than that for now. "And I have to know why you decided to bring your 16th Fleet into our system, General."

Said general tilted his head slightly, the… plates over his eyes moving in eerily imitation of eyebrows. "Your system, Rear Admiral? Well, I suppose no one was using it for the moment, but let me assure you that this system is very much a part of the Hierarchy's territory. So I am afraid to inform that you are the trespassers here, my friend."

"The Systems Alliance has no wish to impose upon the territory of another species. If this system has been previously claimed by your people, then I am sure we can reach an accord that can satisfy both of us. In our view, though, it still does not justify the unprovoked attack on one of our ships."

He still looked at D'Amico in what he could only guess was a relaxed, ponderous stance. "Now, that could yield a good debate, could it not? But we are getting ahead of ourselves here, Rear Admiral. Let us begin with the basics, yes?" he gestured grandly to the people around him. "We, are turians. A proud people hailing from the planet Palaven. We have charted the stars for almost two thousands of our homeworld's orbital periods. Now, I don't know how much time that would be to you, but it is sufficient to say that we have been around for a while. Our government is the Hierarchy, an assembly of the most accomplished members of our society, those who have proven themselves before their superiors and their peers." he then put a hand upon his chest. "I am a male of my species. Specialist Neandra here," he pointed to another turian, smaller and with softer features, "is a female. We are both members of our military forces. We are charged with the hallowed duty of safeguarding turian space, the integrity of our structures, and the lives of our people."

He then extended his hand to the screen. "And you?"

All this felt surreal to the old officer. Was this conversation really happening? Above all else, he could not get past just how 'unalienish' this meeting was going.

He was also in a terrible state of doubt, and he did not like it one bit. What should he do? How much should he reveal? They perhaps had a chance to talk their way out of this, but at what cost? In the end, he decided to play it safe, for now.

"We call ourselves humans. We come from Earth, and are represented by the Systems Alliance, the political body responsible for the administration of our colonies and fleets. I am also a male and a member of our armed forces. We hold a similar function to yours."

If his short answers came off as offensive, the turian did not give any signs of it. Indeed, the strange appendices at the sides of his jaw opened slightly. It was a little disturbing, but it also left D'Amico with the impression of a smile.

"Humans…" he pronounced the word slowly, as if tasting it. "Humans. Excellent, we are making progress here, Rear Admiral. Now, I believe you may be a little puzzled by my behavior, my friend. Don't be, you are hardly the first intelligent species we have encountered."

"Now that is very interesting." though the admiral. "I see, and do you greet all new species with mass accelerator fire?"

Maybe that had not been the wisest thing to say, but D'Amico was getting tired of all this pleasantry, when the alien at the other side of that screen had twenty-three very large guns aimed at his ships.

"Ah, yes, the root of the matter. I can see you are a direct being, Rear Admiral, and I respect that very much. As you wish, let us leave cultural exchanges for later and discuss the reasons of our coming."

The General put his hands at his back once more. "We were sent here, Rear Admiral, because your people have committed some very serious crimes. Some time ago, one of our patrols caught your ships in the process of opening a closed Mass Relay, I am sure you know what those are. Now, I do not know what kind of rules you have set for yourselves, my friend, but the rest of the galaxy considers the activation of Mass Relays of unknown destination as foolishness and irresponsibility of the highest order. Like I said, we have been around for a time, and we learned long ago that such reckless actions will bring far more harm than good."

So the Relay had been the cause of the attack, like Williams theorized. Exactly why activating it was considered such a grave offense to these people was a mystery best left for later. "If that is the case, why didn't your patrol simply tried to establish communications, like you did?"

"That was a very unfortunate play of circumstances, Rear Admiral. We only realized your ships were tempering with the Relay far into the activation process. Perhaps you don't know, but there comes a point where the activation sequence becomes self-sustained."

D'Amico suppressed a frown. They did not, in fact, knew about that. The instructions left at the Archives told them an uninterrupted data stream was necessary at all times. And they never risked stopping the connection half-way, too afraid of causing some kind of permanent damage. No one took any chances where a Mass Relay was involved.

The turian officer went on, heedless of his thoughts.

"We observed you for a while, but we had no true reason to suspect your vessels belonged to a yet unknown species. Like I said, we have found many; new frigate-size ship designs come out all the time, even you will have to admit that our ship's basic structures are very similar. And all of the other known races are aware of the dangers involved with the Relays."

Another reasonable point, if the bit about other alien species was true. Did they not suspect the ships could have been human, as well? Behind his back, the admiral's hands clenched tightly.

"So, from the patrol's perspective, there were two rogue ships knowingly performing a Grade One unlawful operation within turian sovereign space. Coupled with that was the fact they had to act with utmost urgency, because we did not know how long it would take before the misdeed would be beyond reversal. They engaged your ships in battle with the hope that they would stop the transmission and flee, but that did not happen, did it? Even after the transmitting vessel was incapacitated, the data stream did not stop. The commander of the patrol decided to take no risks in such a dire situation, and ordered fire upon your ship until the signal's interruption. And just in time, too. The Relay was a scant few minutes from the point of no return."

The Admiral gritted his teeth. He was trying very hard to come with a reasonable counter-argument that did not sound naïve. Everything rested on this supposedly terrible danger of the dormant Relays. If one accepted that as a fact, than the alien's actions were not without reason. Many would not agree, but D'Amico was a military flag officer. He understood hard decisions and collateral damage.

"You had no other recourse? Electronic interference, pinpoint strikes against the ship's communication arrays? There were seventy-two souls on that ship."

The turian raised his three-fingered hands (where those claws, after all?), in a very familiar placating gesture, if it was translating properly. "I am terribly sorry about the lives of your soldiers, Rear Admiral. I know they can never be replaced. And I will not be so arrogant as to say there were no other, better means we could have employed to stop the activation. But that is not the point. The humans are obviously young to the galaxy, if the true gravity of the situation is not clear to you. An action had to be taken, or the damage could have been unfathomable. It is a tragedy, but we have to see the bigger picture, look to the greater good. Sometimes we need to commit a minor hurt in order to prevent a much greater harm."

"Condescending prick." came the muttered voice of his Gunnery Officer. He agreed, and was tempted to inform the general that humanity had opened many closed Relays, and not one had turned into a doomsday device yet. But somehow, he did not think that would help their position very much.

He went for a more diplomatic approach. "I see you truly believe in the necessity of your actions. I cannot pass a judgment without first understanding more of these dangers you speak of. It is above my station, anyway. I must pass this matter to Alliance Command. If we can abstain from further hostilities, General, I'm sure can resolve this peacefully. Humanity has no wish for unnecessary conflict."

"We have no desire for bloodshed either, Rear Admiral. And if it had been just the unfortunate situation at Relay 314, we would be more than willing to follow your suggestion. But shortly after committing such a transgression, you then caused the destruction of one of our ships."

At that, D'Amico lost his patience and spoke with a much harsher voice. "We didn't know about your laws! Your ships had just taken human lives, they were scavenging our corpses! They tried to attack us again!"

His counterpart remained unfazed. "Ignorance of a law does not exempt one from punishment, my friend. And our ship was simply looking for survivors. They were collecting the remains of the crew for safekeeping, to be returned later and given whatever funeral rites were appropriate. Our culture holds much respect for the dead, Rear Admiral. That was also when we finally learned we were dealing with a previously unknown race. So yes, we examined the wreckage. We wanted to learn about you, to understand you. How else would we succeed in a new, peaceful contact? But then you came back; you surrounded our ship, and when they tried non-lethal ways of escaping the clear danger to their lives, you hunted them down in the very same ruthless and unrelenting manner that you say we used before."

The admiral went to protest at that, but the officer put one hand up and there was such an imperious cast to his plated face that the human stopped. He got down from his platform and came to stand in front of it, and the way he stalked finally brought fully home the fact that, whatever these people were, they sure as hell were not herbivores.

"And that, I am afraid, made your circumstances much more complicated. You see, we simply cannot allow a military force of no small power and confirmed belligerence to happily play on our backyard, can we?" were before the man's voice had been relaxed and, dare he say it, soothing, now it was pure steel.

Whatever hope D'Amico had for a peaceful resolution died right there. Everything about the alien's stance screamed 'we won't compromise'.

"Make yourself clear, General."

Those cold eyes where fixed on his own. "You have two options, Rear Admiral. The first is to immediately surrender all military assets and personnel in this system to our custody. We will go to your colony, where you will mobilize any civilian population to also surrender themselves to inspection and relocation to safe camps we will establish. You will be allowed to make any necessary provisions for their lodging and biological needs inside those camps, under close supervision, of course. Most of your soldiers will be allowed to join the civilians, but any high-ranked officers will surrender themselves for questioning. Your people, along with your facilities, ships and other vehicles will remain under the guard of the Turian Hierarchy until terms can be reached with your Systems Alliance as to their transfer."

"Not a single human will be deliberately harmed by turian hands, unless in self-defense. We will help you maintain order among the people, and will provide any resources within our reach to guarantee their safety and relative comfort. There are many dangerous elements in the galaxy, pirates and bandits without nation, governments that pray on the weak. As long as your people remain under our custody, my ships and legionnaires will protect them with their very lives. All this I swear to you on my honor as a General of the Hierarchy, and upon the Spirit of the 37th Legion."

D'Amico shook his head. "General, be reasonable. You cannot expect us to trust our wellbeing to a mysterious new species we have just met. As a military leader, you especially cannot expect me to allow you unfettered and unlimited access to classified Alliance property."

"I understand the conditions are harsh." he gave an agreeable nod. "They are, however, non-negotiable."

The admiral's face was an impenetrable mask, if the other soldier ever could read it, anyway. "I see. And if we refuse?"

Neither voice nor face changed, the general answered the implied threat. "We will destroy or force the retreat of all your ships. Then, I will station my fleet on orbit over your colony, and we will bombard any military or industrial facilities we can identify. We will try to keep collateral damage to a minimum, but will not stop until all organized armed resistance upon that planet is impossible. Then we will go down and move every human on the surface to the camps. Those who try to resist, by any means, will be considered as aggressors and treated accordingly. In the end, we will achieve the same result, only with far greater losses to you."

Each word was like a stab to D'Amico's chest. But they also served to harden him. "Why not just drop a bomb on the planet and be done with it, general?"

"A bomb?" the voice was full of derision. "I imagine you are talking about a nuclear fission or fusion weapon. Do not be absurd, Rear Admiral. We are not barbarians who would so carelessly contaminate a garden world, or kill non-combatants indiscriminately. No, small asteroids and mass accelerator rounds will be much cleaner and just as efficient."

"Surely you realize we are part of a much larger civilization, General? This is just a fraction of our military, and the Systems Alliance will not stand idle while humans are made hostages of a foreign power. I am prepared to admit that the incidents at the Mass Relay were terrible misunderstandings on both of our parts. But if you attack us now, it will be nothing less than an act of war."

He saw the alien raise one of his claws-like fingers and start to scratch at one of his face appendages. But the piercing eyes never left him. "I am aware of that possibility, Rear Admiral, even if I highly doubt the supposed size of your forces, especially in comparison to our own. But it does not matter how strong our adversaries may be, or think they are; the Hierarchy will not suffer such a challenge to its borders."

He started to pace in front of the screen, though his gaze never left D'Amico. Despite himself, the admiral was once again impressed at how the other turians in the room seemed able to just ignore the whole conversation. "Despite what you believe, this is not a permanent invasion, but merely a precautionary measure in order to safeguard our territory. Capture and death of your colonists is not my goal, just the neutralization of your local war machine. We will use the information acquired here to contact your government and open negotiations. I am confident my superiors will be open to a suitable compromise between our peoples."

D'Amico stepped forward. He knew it was useless, but he had to try. "Why don't we reach a compromise right here, the two of us? Grant us temporary heaven within your borders. Your fleet can stay. You can monitor us from afar and put any measures in place to control the entrance and departure of ships from the system. Our ships will not leave the colony's orbit unless given permission."

He opened his arms low, hands open, in what he hoped translated as a gesture of trust. "In exchange, you let us keep our autonomy until official terms can be agreed upon. Let us trade unclassified information about our civilizations and cultures, get to know each other. I will send a messenger to my government, you send one to yours, and we can let the politicians squabble amongst themselves." he tried his best to project the sincerity of his words.

The general seemed to honestly ponder it for a good moment. "Tempting, Rear Admiral, but a moot point. I have my orders and will see to them, like any good turian. If you will not surrender, then I am afraid our conversation must end here."

Admiral D'Amico stood there for a long moment, as his thoughts raged. He looked to his sailors, and found so many different emotions there that it was impossible to classify them all. Some were scared, some were angry. There were those who still had hope in their eyes, and those who had clearly already accepted defeat. But they had all volunteered to be at the Nairobi, fully aware of the likely outcome, and would follow through to the end.

He had never married, never had children. All his relatives were either too distant, or already gone from the world. But he never felt alone, because the military was his family. Every one of these people were his sons and daughters. This ship was his home. He could choose to believe in this turian; a simple 'I surrender', and his people might go back to their loved ones. Could he deny them that chance? Could he condemn them to almost certain death?

Yes, he could, and he would. Duty above all.

"Virtute Siderum Tenus" he spoke the old words his grandfather always quoted to him within his mind, and they strengthened his resolve. When he spoke, it was calm and firm.

"I cannot accept your terms, General. Your people are not what I expected, and this exchange has been nothing like I imagined it would be. We seem to share many common traits, but the truth is that we know next to nothing about you or your people, and you are clearly not willing to let us learn in a peaceful manner. Even if your promise of safety if we surrender is true, a prison is a prison no matter how comfortable the cell or how gentle the warden. If you won't meet us half-way, then this conversation is, indeed, over."

The old man took a step forward and gave the turian his harshest, gravest look. "Attack, and we will defend ourselves. But let me tell you that you may find humanity to be a greater foe than you can imagine."

A little of the old military bravado never hurt, in his opinion.

Desolas just nodded. He closed his left hand in a fist and crossed the arm over his chest. "I look forward to seeing it. It was an honor, Rear Admiral Carlos Lucio D'Amico. May the Spirits of your people give you strength."

The inside image of the turian ship was once again replaced by the darkness of space. For a few seconds, nobody moved.

Until Sensors shouted. "Enemy ships on the move! They have split up, three of the cruisers are coming forward!"

D'Amico ran to his chair. "Get me Drugov! Tell Mercier to get moving! Upload all new data to the runner!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The admiral reached his seat, and practically jumped upon it. Comms had already opened a channel to the Kings Moutain.

"Admiral." greeted his long-time subordinate. They had served together for two years now. He was his most senior captain and would assume command of the 7th if the worst came to pass.

"This is it, Captain. Our hands are tied."

"That does seem to be the case, sir."

"You know what to do."

The captain took a deep breath, before saying simply. "I do, sir." it seemed the man had really run all out of protests.

"We cannot go head to head againt those numbers, Andrei. They would tear us apart." D'Amico's voice was understanding, but firm.

The younger man just nodded. "I know, Carlos. Good luck."

"To all of us, my friend." with that, the connection was cut. The admiral turned his attention to the tactical screen, where fifteen dots were now moving towards them.

"Now, let's see how much our lives are worth today."

---

Author Notes:

And so, one week became three. Terribly sorry about that, folks. For the last year and a half I have been putting off an invitation to spend some time in an old friend's country house. Two weeks ago, my company went into a short recess and I could not, in good conscience, deny him again. The place was beautiful, quiet, and had no internet connection whatsoever. The good news is that the fourth chapter is actually almost finished. It may be coming out this very weekend.

So, we have another slow chapter, but that is about to change. Everyone down in Shanxi is ready: civilians, soldiers and wizards alike, and the enemy has arrived. Negotiations have failed (not that anyone believed they would succeed), and all that is left now is to fight.

I would like to thank user jluk94 for his review. I could not do so via PM.

*An anonymous user quite disliked the little mental observations of legionnaire Aetius in the last chapter. Just to make it clear, entire lines in italic are a character's inner thoughts or memories. As for those particular lines, they were a quirk of the turian soldier and should not be making a comeback.

*User avarage . at . best raised many interesting points about the writing style. I thank him/her very much for the review and will take the thoughts into careful consideration, but I really need more opinions before I can tell if I am in the right direction or not.

One of the things I want to say is that while the story was designed for multiple POVs, the narrative will eventually start to focus more on Harry. But the secondary cast will still take much screen time. Harry is the main actor here, but he is just one player in this game. There are many characters and they can be hard to keep track off or relate to, especially if I fail to present them in an interesting manner, but most of them are only temporary. The key characters are those that will appear persistently over the chapters.

Hope you enjoyed it. Give me your thoughts. Chapter five will be all about the battle for Shanxi's skies.

*Based on reviews and on a little reflection, I changed some lines and words to tone down the dramatic fatalism of this chapter a bit. Not remove it, as the situation is still very desperate, but to hopefully not come so strong. It is mainly focused on the admiral's last exchange with Captain Drugov and on his discussion with Mercier on his first scene. It's just some five lines.