Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.

I'm very sorry for the delay, but between getting slammed at work and a nasty case of the flu I couldn't concentrate for long enough to write.

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Geneva, Earth

"I have looked at your plans, general. I must say, I'm very concerned about this."

Spears smiled; no surprise there.

"I mean, I understand the part about giving the military permission to move within our borders as it sees fit, without waiting for approval from the Assembly. The whole debacle at Shanxi had taught us the need for that. But the rest... Permanent positions in the general Assembly don't exist! And you want to give them to military officers, people who haven't even been elected."

"But those people would be pre-approved by elected members, mr. D'Orsinio. The members of the USM general staff have always been subjected to an assembly veto whenever they were appointed. I don't propose to change that. As to the non-existence of permanent members, I agree that it will change things, but is that a bad thing? I think some element of continuity is called for. After all, elected officials may come and go, the security of the human species is an ongoing concern. A permanent member, not subject to the ever changing whims of public opinion, would be able to focus on long-term planning, rather than the exigencies of the moment. Besides, they would only make up a small fraction of the assembly. Never enough to dominate the voting process."

"The voting process? D'Orsinio snorted. "That brings me to the last point. Restricting voting rights to veterans? You actually want to limit the franchise? You may be popular with the people, general, but nobody will support that!"

"Oh, I think they will, Mr. D'Orsinio. I think they will. Remember, it isn't the local administration that we are talking about here. I have absolutely no intention to interfere in that. In fact, if it were up to me, I would give every colony the freedom to decide for themselves how they want to arrange their internal system of government. Only the United Systems Assembly would be affected."

"Which is the most important government organization of them all!"

Now it was Spears' turn to snort. "Really? Do you actually believe that? Most of the human population is barely aware of the United Systems. They never interact with it on a meaningful level. I can assure you that the average citizens would be hard-pressed to recall the name of their representative in the General Assembly. Local government is what they deal with. Hell, according to recent election statistics most of them don't even bother to vote for the General Assembly, so limiting that franchise will not take anything away from them. Besides, we don't need to actually take it away from existing voters, just apply the law to the new generation when they grow up. Who knows? It might actually engender a spirit of patriotism in modern day youth."
Spears' voice hardened. "This is not a subject for debate, and, frankly, you and your colleagues should be thanking me. The Hammerstein conspiracy may have been set aside for the moment, in the general euphoria following our recent victory, but that doesn't mean it has been forgotten. Once the dust settles on the battlefield, humanity will demand a reckoning. Now, we can give them two answers: The first is that we'll crush the conspiracy root and branch. That means investigations in the behavior of ALL assembly members, and their staffs, and their associates, followed by public trials. Or, alternatively, we can show the people that we are taking effective steps to make sure that it never happens again. We can give the people one of these two options, or we can give them both. But we cannot give them neither; we'd have revolt on our hands. Now, given that choice, which option do you think your esteemed colleagues in the General Assembly would prefer. Don't mistake me, D'Orsinio. There will be changes, one way or another."

D'Orsinio nodded. "I see your point, general. But what you fail to understand is that ANY such changes require a radical change in the constitution. Frankly, I'm not even sure such changes are legally possible. It would require that people, elected under the constitution, effectively conspire to overthrow that same constitution."

Spears opened his mouth to interrupt, but D'Orsinio continued. "IF this is to be done at all, it would require the cooperation of the entire Assembly. Not just a majority, or even a quorum. The vote has to be unanimous. Now, I daresay that many of the colonial members would support you, especially in the aftermath of a successful war. But to get the support of Earth's representatives? That would require serious concessions. You should think carefully before you try to push this."

"Oh, I have thought about it. You can tell your colleagues from me that they have a choice. If they support me on this, I personally guarantee that their will be no further investigations. Hammerstein's plot will end with her death. If they don't, well, I have the names of at least a dozen members who collaborated her in strong-arming colonial representatives and at least twice that number that actively helped Hammerstein with the delaying tactics. In the current political climate, I doubt they'll live long enough to stand trial. I stopped the lynch mobs the last time, because I couldn't afford the chaos. Now things have changed. I have enough authority to keep the government running, even if half the Assembly gets taken out. Next time, I'll just sit back and enjoy the show."

"I see. Well," D'Orsinio stood up. "It seems I must take my leave, general. I will have to discuss this with my peers."

After the D'Orsinio had left, Spears picked up his comm unit and called a number.

"Harper? It's Spears. It seems we are in business."

Shanxi city

General Perez looked out of the window of the abandoned office building to which he had moved his headquarters. It had been a good day. In fact, he'd had several good days in a row. His forces had ground their way through the city, taking losses, but inflicting far more casualties on an enemy that was simply not equipped for this kind of warfare. By now the battle was nearly over. The alien invasion force had been shattered, cut into small groups, and then crushed. In some cases this had meant a fight to the death, but as the days went by more and more had chosen to surrender, a sure sign that even they understood that there was no longer any point in continuing the fight. Either way, they had all succumbed to the inevitable; all but one group.

In the distance, he could see the massive structure that had at one time been the headquarters facility of general Williams. Now it was the last stronghold of the alien invasion. The question was, what to do about it. If he wanted, he could end the whole thing in seconds. Second fleet's destroyers were in orbit and could easily smash the building with mass accelerator rounds. Alternatively, the rapid deployment vessels carried clusters of space-to-ground missiles that could achieve the same effect with either conventional or nuclear warheads. However, such weapons tended to be rather indiscriminate and Perez had it on good authority that a large number of human prisoners was still held inside the facility. So was the alien commander, and Perez would very much prefer to take him alive as well. Aerial bombardment by either Second fleet's F302s, or by the Cheyennes carried the same problem. The only weapons strong enough to break open the facility were also big enough to kill everyone inside.
The only alternative to bombardment was direct assault. Unfortunately, the facility had been designed with that threat in mind. All approaches were covered by multiple arcs of fire from within the complex, with little or no cover to protect the soldiers. Any attacking force would be wading in its own blood, long before they reached the entrance, and Perez was loath to throw away the lives of his marines that way. Fortunately, there was an alternative.

There was a brief knock on the door.

"General Melletin to see you, general."

"Send her in."

Brigade-general Melletin would have been something of a disappointment to her distant Prussian ancestors. Setting aside the fact that none of them could have conceived of a woman in uniform, she just didn't fit the stereotype; not even a feminine form of the stereotype. Where all Prussian officers were supposed to be tall, lean, and mustached and have their faces adorned with several dueling scars, Melletin was short and stocky. She didn't cultivate a mustache for obvious reasons, and while fencing was still practiced at some universities none would have permitted the half-open face masks that allowed for the traditional scarring ritual. She was also in a bad mood. Dispatched in haste to represent Earth in the invasion force, her 501st Homeguard Brigade had been shipped to Arcturus and then on to Shanxi with very little notice, no time to prepare, and ultimately no clear role in the invasion, which had been planned assuming that it would be carried out by the two marine divisions. Untrained for orbital insertion under fire, they had been held back from the initial landing and by the time they finally hit the ground most of the battle had been fought and won, and the 501st had been relegated to rear-guard duty. It was a recipe for frustration.

"Ah, general, " Perez' face was a picture of congeniality. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I hope all is well with your brigade? Your logistical support is providing all the supplies you need?"

"Quite so, general."

"Good, good. General, have you been kept fully informed of the situation at the front?"

"Such as it is?" General Melletin's face twisted briefly into something that could with some generosity be termed a smile. "From what I've been told there isn't much front left."

"True." Perez nodded. "Quite true. Still, it's always the last pockets of resistance that give the most trouble. If you would take a look..." He pushed a map of Shanxi City to the middle of the table. "Apart from the occasional lonely enemy soldier, who got separated from his unit and is lost, more than anything else, the only enemy force left is holding out in the old military headquarters. We estimate they have at least a battalion worth of troops there, maybe as many as three and they seem hell-bent on fighting it out. While normally that problem could be solved with a few mass-accelerator rounds from orbit, this group seems to have quite a few prisoners locked up inside the building. Senior officers, political leaders, etc. I cannot, in good conscience condemn those people to death without at least an attempt to get them out alive. Besides, we have it on good authority that the turian commander and his senior staff are among the enemy force as well. If we could capture at least some of them alive, we could learn a great deal."

"Did you ask for surrender?"

"We tried, nearly an hour ago." Perez shrugged. It had been worth a try. "The deadline is running out. It seems they insist on being foolish. It cannot just be a culture thing. Plenty of their soldiers have surrendered already. There is no way to tell, of course, but it looks like some of them either don't know when they're beaten or are too proud to admit it. In any case, the question regarding their motives is largely academic, all that matters is that it leaves me with a problem. I cannot flatten the facility without killing our own people, as well as a lot of potential information sources. But I cannot wait to starve them out, either. There is no way to tell how long that would take and the prisoners would starve along with their guards. On top of that, Second Fleet has orders to remain in local space until Shanxi is fully liberated, so we simply cannot afford the delay. That leaves one alternative

"I see. A frontal assault then. Carried out by my brigade, I assume, or else I wouldn't be here."

Perez nodded. "It is the only way to end this quickly. I could, of course, use the marines, but they have been fighting non-stop for several days, while your unit is fully rested. I'm sure you understand-"

"I understand completely, general Perez. Earth's debt to Shanxi has to be paid. It appears we'll be settling that account today, in blood." She took a deep breath. "I will need a few hours to move my people into position. I will also need some technical support."

"Of course, general. What do you require?"

Melletin smiled without humor. "Loudspeakers, general. A lot of them. If soldiers are called upon to charge into enemy fire, they need some inspiration. More than a few speeches can provide."

Perez nodded. "Music, of course. Ride of the Valkyries, I assume."

"Wagner?" Melletin raised an eyebrow. "A man who needed an entire orchestra to make himself heard. I prefer something a little less vulgar. Besides, the 501st Homeguard brigade has always used its own marching music. I can show you the relevant order if you wish."

Perez jaw nearly dropped. "Wait, someone actually signed an order regarding your marching music? What kind of idiot armchair general would bother to-"

"That would be His Royal Majesty Frederick II, king of Prussia." General Melletin's face remained expressionless. "Now, with your permission, I have a suicide charge to organize."

-o-o-o-

Turian headquarters (former USM headquarters) Shanxi city

Daraya looked around the conference room where general Arterius had assembled most of his remaining officers. They had been debating for hours, trying to find a way out of the trap in which they found themselves. Plans had ranged from a protracted siege while waiting for a relieve force, through a break-out and hiding in the countryside to bargaining with the remaining human prisoners as hostages. At first Daraya had tried to make her opinion known, but before long she had just given up. No one was listening. The defeat had come too quickly; the turians simply could not grasp it, could not understand the magnitude of it. They were off in a fantasy land of their own, where they still had a chance of winning.

She sighed, wondering once again how it had all come to this. Military service had never been her ambition. Instead she had devoted the past two centuries to the study of language and culture. Her job at Aephus headquarters had simply been an extension of those studies. Then the war had started. At first she had been thrilled to take charge of deciphering the human language. It had been the opportunity of a lifetime. Unfortunately, her success had led to being assigned to the turian fleet when they set out on this ill-fated adventure. Still, it had given her an opportunity to continue her work, to expand her knowledge and refine the translation software that she had helped design. At least, as long as things were going well.

'The only thing worse than a successful war, is a war that's going badly!' She smiled bitterly. Some matriarch had said that during the Krogan rebellions. I wonder what she would say about this war. At least in her time people actually had a reason to fight. Now we're doing it, why again? Because those fools didn't know what else to do?

"General!" A voice came through one of the loudspeakers. "The humans are moving!"

-o-o-o-

All around the compound Grizzly APCs rolled forward, their turrets turning back and forth as they searched for potential threats. Behind each vehicle groups of infantry crouched, using whatever cover they could find. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing moved, then, as by unspoken command, one of the Grizzlies opened fire, its autocannon raking the walls of the headquarters building. A second joined in, a third...
From the building, the turian defenders answered with rockets, only to be silenced as the human guns concentrated fire on their positions. The armored vehicles moved forward. Several of them had been taken out, but the weight of fire was overwhelmingly in their favor.

The Grizzlies stopped their approach. By now they were close enough to the building that they could target individual firing slits. From the sides of the Grizzlies' turrets, small canisters flew in high arcs, spewing white smoke, which obscured the battlefield. Inside the buildings turian defenders cursed and activated the infrared amplifiers that had been built into their helmets. Although it would help them see through the smoke, the blob-like infrared images were less than optimal for target acquisition. On top of that, the glow of several burning vehicles overwhelmed the sensors.

For one moment the guns fell silent. Somewhere behind the lines, someone pushed a button, activating massive loudspeakers that had been rigged up for the occasion. As the first notes sounded, the infantry emerged from behind the Grizzlies and charged across the open ground toward the walls of the building. Turian guns mowed down the front ranks, even as Grizzly gunners swept their gattling guns back and forth in a desperate attempt to cover the attack. Within seconds, the open ground in front of the walls was littered with the bodies of the dead and the dying, but more human soldiers were moving forward, crawling beneath the gunfire as the Grizzlies silenced the turian guns.

-o-o-o-

Deep inside the fortified headquarters Daraya looked up as the internal speakers relayed the sound from outside the walls. Human music sounded as strange to her now as it had the first time she heard it, but something about this particular tune seemed to spark a memory. A scene from an unknown world that general Oraka had shown her, columns of soldiers marching between massive stone pillars, carrying torches that lit up the night.

"They're coming for us. They're coming for us now."

No one answered her.

-o-o-o-

The clear tones of a bugle could still be heard above the noise of the battle as the soldiers struggled on. No turian had ever heard of the Hohenfriedberg; nor, for that matter, was it likely that many of the humans present would have been able to find the location on a map, let alone explain its significance. Still, some of the survivors would afterwards, after a few drinks, swear that they had seen a tall man wearing a cocked hat and a long coat, riding a white horse through the dust and smoke of the battle. So, perhaps, somewhere beyond space and time, an old Prussian king was listening as the 501st Homeguard brigade, distant inheritors of the legacy of his famous Bayreuth Dragoons, charged across an alien battlefield to the same tune that he composed for them five centuries before.

By now the first soldiers were at the walls, beneath the firing arcs of the turian weapons. The remnants of the assault teams were gathering, collecting whatever personnel they could find to compensate for their losses, and searching for their entry points. Other soldiers crouched beneath the firing ports, tossing in grenades wherever possible to force the defenders back.
A shaped charge blew in one of the side doors. A Grizzly APC aimed its Gatling at the newly created hole and emptied several hundred rounds into the interior before the first soldiers pushed forward. Another strike team managed to climb on top of one of the lower buildings and tossed a breaching charge through an air shaft before rappelling down. Losses were terrible as turian defenders caught the intruders in pre-set crossfires, but more and more human soldiers streamed into the building and their firepower advantage started to count, driving the defenders deeper into the base from where they could no longer cover the entrances.

-o-o-o-

"General, they have broken through again." Colonel Macrus, who had taken command of the outer defenses, reported. "We're still holding them off at the stairs, but we're not going to last much longer. Sir, I regret to inform you that our defenses will collapse within the hour."

"General," Daraya decided to try one more time. She couldn't be sure what captivity would be like, but she doubted that forcing the humans to fight their way through the building would improve matters. "General, it's over. If you continue to fight, it will just increase the death-toll."

"We still have the prisoners," one of the turians insisted. "We can negotiate-"

"Negotiate what?" Daraya snapped. "You have nowhere to go! There isn't a single turian warship left in this system and the remaining food supplies are now in the hands of your enemies. Playing a hostage game will simply delay the inevitable. Always assuming, of course, that the humans are willing to negotiate and don't just shoot straight through the hostages. Use your brains for once. IT IS OVER!"

General Arterius looked up from the table. Guessing a turian's age was difficult at best, and often impossible, but right now he looked old, very old.

"You're right."

"General-," even now one of his staff officers started to argue.

"Silence!" For long seconds, no one spoke. "She is right. This is a battle we cannot win. Prolonging the fight will merely increase the death toll. Tell colonel Macrus..., tell him to withdraw from the upper levels. We need to create some distance between our soldiers and the humans, or we will not even be able to surrender. Once Macrus has disengaged, open a comm channel to the human commander. Ask him for his terms."

-o-o-o-

General Melletin grimaced as she walked into the courtyard. She had taken several shrapnel hits when a lucky shot from a turian missile hit her command vehicle, two of which had penetrated her body armour. A third had somehow managed to slice in between her face and helmet, cutting a deep gash into her cheek. My very own Mensur-Schmisse, My great-great, great something grandfather would have been so proud! Temporary bandages had stopped the bleeding for the moment, but she desperately needed proper medical attention. However, there were things that simply couldn't be delegated.

"What is the status of the surrender?"

"No problems so far, ma'am. Enemy troops have laid down their weapons and are being rounded up. No resistance."

"And the prisoners?"

"We have found several hundred of our people in the cells. Mainly military personnel. As far as we can tell, they have not been mistreated."

"Good."

The inner courtyard was a slaughterhouse, with the bodies of humans and aliens alike piled up everywhere. However, their disposal would have to wait until a more important task had been completed.

"Fetch those rags down. Now!"

Several soldiers ran toward the stairs, climbing toward the roof of the main building where the banners of the invaders were still visible against the sky. One after another, they were picked up and tossed down into the dirt and blood of the courtyard. Another soldier rushed up, carrying a package that had been prepared for this moment. A few seconds passed, then a ragged cheer went up, echoed by many more outside as they watched the spectacle. General Melletin drew herself to attention and saluted, wincing as the movement pulled at one of her wounds.
The cost had been high, far too high, much of it paid by her own people, but Earth's debt had been paid in full. The flag of the Alliance of United Systems waved once more over Shanxi City.

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Obviously, Spears is moving toward a Starship Troopers' society model, where political power is reserved for veterans. Ironically, he is doing exactly the same thing that Hammerstein did: exploiting a crisis to push a personal agenda. His agenda doesn't involve sacrificing millions of people, but in the long run it is far more invasive.

Regarding the music: The Hohenfriedberg March (you can find it on youtube) is commonly associated with the Bayreuth Dragoons, but the exact nature of the link is subject to debate. We know for certain that, after their performance at the battle of Hohenfriedberg, Frederick the Great signed an order that allowed them from that day on to play whatever music they liked, irrespective of what the army as a whole used. I thought it funny to imagine that some unit still clings to that privilege after half a millennium. Whether he composed the march himself is uncertain. An alternative story tells that the march already existed and was played as they marched toward that battle. However, Frederick was known to be a gifted musician and the tune is fairly simple, so it is certainly possible and I decided to go with the more popular explanation.
Soldiers seeing historical figures during battles is a common phenomenon, from Athenian hoplites seeing Theseus at the battle of Marathon to sightings of st George in the trenches during WW1, so I guess some things never change. Speaking of which: The line Daraya quotes is, of course, paraphrased from the Duke of Wellington after Waterloo.

As for the number of the brigade, anime fans may recognize where the 501st comes from.