Cosmic Age
Long after the defeat of Caesar's Legion and the liberation of New Vegas, the Courier and Lone Wanderer make use of the Theta Technology to bring humanity back from the edge of extinction and take to the stars. When they reach too far they discover that the galaxy is not always receptive to the adventurous.
I do not own Fallout or Mass Effect
Also, for anybody who is sick to death of stories where the Council is incompetent/evil/out of character/childish/any sort of combination of those things...this is for you.
Also, I will be taking SOME liberties with material from both Mass Effect and Fallout.
On a final note, the spell check on my laptop and iPad appear to be in conflict on the topic how to spell Dreadnought (Dreadnaught on my laptop, Dreadnought according to google), so if you see the word being spelt in both forms that would just be the endless battle between me and the dreaded Legion of Auto Correct.
Xxx
Chapter Three: Fall of Shanxi, Part One
March 11th, 2353
Shanxi System
BSF Chairman Benny, in orbit over Shanxi
Command Centre
Elder Thompson stepped out of the central elevator and rushed to the elevated center of the circular room from which the orbital fortress was controlled. An array of holo-screens appeared around him, displaying tactical data reviewing the fleet's statistics, status of different vessels and defence satellites and the numbers of the fleet pouring through the Shanxi-Theta relay.
"Talk to me," He spoke, "Give me numbers and sizes."
"Hostile numbers are still increasing sir," A response was called out, "They just passed a hundred! Most of the contacts are frigate analogue classes formed up in formations of six around the larger cruiser analogues, but I'm also seeing two Carrier analogues with formations of ten frigates around them!"
A chill ran up Owen's spine. "I really wish we had a couple more cruisers or a mothership now," He mumbled.
Thompson enlarged one of the holo-screens. "Visual display, get me sights on this fleet!"
Recon drones scattered in the region surrounding the relay began to transmit visual data at FTL speeds across the system, showing a swarm of ships establishing a formation just out of reach of the relay. The two larger ships were arranged near the centre of the fleet, and each cruiser had a good distance between each other while their frigate escorts followed them in an arrow shaped formation.
The final count came in at eighteen cruiser analogues, two carrier analogues and one hundred and twenty eight frigate analogues. These numbers dwarfed the largest fleet that the Alliance could field in a single operation, save for a warfront. It also grossly outnumbered the measly two dozen ships forming up around the Chairman.
"Christ on a crapper," Thompson rattled, eyes wide in their hollow sockets, "Whoever these guys are, they sure aren't playing around."
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Turian Dreadnought A'kelez
Command Deck
The command deck of the mighty Turian dreadnought was lit only by the holo-panels and screens. Just like with human ships Turians had no time for putting a window right over the very heart of operations aboard the most powerful class of ship in the Galaxy's most feared navy, and focused on protecting the command crew as they coordinated with gunnery crews and other ships , providing them with a suitable interface to allow them to prioritize targets and maneuver out of the way of oncoming fire. The Turians occupying the dimly lit room worked in silence, not reflecting the sense of anxious anticipation flooding through the whole fleet.
And sitting dead in the centre was a Turian female, sitting on a chair that was elevated over the other stations to give her a clear view of her subordinates' work and provide her own input when needed. She leaned back calmly in her seat, one leg crossed smoothly over the other and regarding an image of the alien defence fleet being projected much in the same way it had been between General Arterius and Captain Pridius. The Turian fleet was represented by a swarm of blue silhouettes moving in formation, spread out to force the defenders to divide their lines of fire to keep track of them; the defenders were represented by red silhouettes surrounding the colossal station, and several other satellites were spotted floating in proximity.
"Admiral, those satellites are emitting massive amounts of energy," A turian operator reported, "I believe they may be armed defence platforms."
Admiral Varia Trisun rotated her head a bit and glanced at the speaker. "Noted. Mark them as hostile emplacements and update fleet targeting data. Hold outside highest estimated effective range of enemy artillery and establish contact with the Galius."
The Turian ships began to slow as one, their feathered designs resembling graceful and deadly avian predators hovering over prey. Several formations of fighters had deployed from every cruiser, launching from tubes built into the belly of the warships and flanking their motherships. They served as a foil for the blocky and dull colored warships cluttered protectively around the largest station, which a quick scan revealed to be positioned over a medium sized settlement.
The red tinted form of Desolas Arterius materialized before Admiral Trisun. "Admiral, I believe we have our first target." He said in his own form of greeting, sounding pleased.
Trisun frowned. "Don't forget the plan, General. We extend our ultimatum first, and we do not move to attack unless one of the outlined scenarios occur."
If the enemy fleet attempted to attack, refused or failed to acknowledge the Turians' only offer of surrender or attempted to flee the fleet was to move forward and secure orbital supremacy by any means necessary.
Desolas frowned, clearly not pleased with how Trisun addressed him. "I am well aware of how we are expected to conduct this operation, Admiral. Send your package to these aliens, and if they do acknowledge it this shall be a bloodless takeover."
Varia Trisun had worked with Desolas Arterius many times before in her naval career. If one were to ask her to summarize her thoughts on the man she would describe him as brutal, eager and devious. She hated him for his lack of regard for the life of anyone outside of Hierarchy citizens, how he pretended to be so concerned for the safety of all beings-he certainly had a way of making people think he was acting in the interest of the common good though, and how he was good enough at his job to leave Palaven Command bowing their heads as he passed and singing praises of his accomplishments.
Many saw him as a hero, as a model of Turian discipline and authority, a blazing star who never left his enemies any hope of escape.
She saw him as an up-jumped child who had a few medals on his chest and thought he could do no wrong. This may have been a power trip for the great Desolas Arterius, but Trisun intended to conduct herself as a Turian should: an embodiment of professional conduct, knowing when to act and when to retreat without shame, and most of all focusing on the preservation of peace rather than the destruction of life.
The expedition may have been his, but the fleet and its soldiers were hers and she intended to remind him of that at every turn.
"Admiral, the VIs have finished composing the data package and we are ready to deploy."
Now all she could do was wait.
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BSF Chairman Benny
Command Centre
One of the Knights took notice of an alert popping up on their screen and quickly turned, addressing the armoured Ghoul behind him, "Elder Thompson, the alien fleet is transmitting a data package to us."
A sudden silence fell over the room, all eyes turning to Thompson in anticipation for his response to this.
After several moments of deliberation Thompson grunted, "Aw to hell with it...check it for spyware and keep our AIs on guard, but let the thing in and let's see what the aliens have to say."
The Knight nodded and turned back to his console, accepting the data package-which appeared to be oddly compatible with the Chairman's systems, perhaps due to the eerie similarity between the reverse engineered Prothean electronics and this fleet's own computers.
"Could these be Protheans?" Owen voiced the question on everybody's mind.
Ever since the discovery of the Prothean cache on Mars, humanity had learned that something far older and perhaps stronger than the Prolat, if not more numerous, had been watching them. Needless to say this had put many on edge, wondering if the Protheans were still out there, watching, waiting to make their return. The idea of some advanced alien empire spying on them millennia ago had encouraged the accelerated development of the Alliance Navy.
Could this be the fear becoming reality?
"Let's wait to see what they have to say, we might just find out." Thompson insisted as the main screen changed to show the contents of the data package.
It appeared to be a visual message, using symbols and pictures to display a three dimensional representation of a planet, presumably Shanxi. Orbiting it was a group of vessels surrounding a large structure (the Alliance and Brotherhood fleet), and approaching it was a swarm of vessels that were obviously meant to represent the alien fleet.
"They don't have enough information to translate our language," Owen realized, "The computers on the exploration fleet would have been wiped and the hardware was trashed. They wouldn't have anything to use to try and form a translation program."
Thompson nodded, crossing his arms as he added, "So they're using a visual aid."
The Turian fleet approached, and began to exchange fire with the defence fleet. Losses were incurred on both sides, but eventually the Turian fleet was left victorious and assumed orbital supremacy over New Taiuyan.
This made anybody viewing this feel a mixture of discomfort at the implied threat behind the message.
The scene suddenly reset, but instead of the Alliance fleet fighting back its ships dimmed and seemed to power down. The Turian fleet moved in, more numerous than those who had survived in the first scenario. The scene was basically the same, but the Alliance ships were left intact and undamaged.
"So they're basically telling us to surrender or die." Thompson drawled, "How original."
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Turian Dreadnought A'kalez
Command Deck
"The enemy ships are not powering down their weapons, Admiral."
Trisun sighed. "Give it a little time."
"We should strike now," Desolas urged. "Every moment we grant them is another for them to plan and prepare!"
Trisun cast the younger officer a glare. "General Desolas, this fleet does not move without my command, and my command is that we shall give these people a brief period to acknowledge our demand." She laced her fingers together and leaned forward in her chair. "Let us see just how far they are willing to go."
Desolas growled irritably. "Foolishness."
"Not all officers are so quick to resort to opening fire before exhausting alternatives," Trisun reminded him, "Be patient, boy, if you are lucky then they will refuse to surrender and you shall get the battle you crave."
She dismissed his image, cutting the transmission before she could even see the young general bristle in fury at the lack of respect she paid him.
"Spirits cursed brat." Trisun muttered under her breath.
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BSF Chairman Benny
Command Centre
"We don't have any choice," Thompson declared, "We cannot allow this fleet to take control of Shanxi. Regardless of their intentions or whether or not they would spare us, we will treat any approach by this fleet as an aggressive act and respond appropriately."
Owen gripped Thompson's shoulder. "Hold on now, even with the Chairman's cannons fortifying the defence line up here we can't hold back that many ships."
"I know," Thompson tugged his shoulder free of Owen's grip, "That's why any personnel who would be more useful down on the ground are to immediately vacate my station via the nearest convenient transport or escape pod." He turned and pulled his plasma pistol from his belt, the weapon unfolding to its full size with a series of clicking and whirring noises while he held it out by the barrel, "That includes you, Captain. Now kindly get your ass off my station while you still can and do what you can for the people on the ground."
Owen shook his head, objecting to this command. "I'm not going to just abandon this station, it's still got my damn ship on it if you recall." He pointed out.
Thompson forced the gun into Owen's hand. "You are abandoning it because if you don't I'll just eject what's left of your ship and you can pick up what's left on the surface if you even survive this."
Owen gave an irritated sigh, "Fucking extortionist," He muttered while flipping the safety off on the sidearm and attaching it to a magnetic strip on his own belt for safe keeping, "Try not to die up here old man, I was just getting around to liking you."
"Old? You little shit, I still have the same skin I did almost three centuries ago, and not a gray hair on me!" Thompson cackled as Owen turned and stormed out of the command centre, only settling down once the Captain was gone and facing the command crew again. "The offer extends to all of you too. I can coordinate the station's defences from here and take a chunk out of the enemy fleet before they overwhelm us."
"Elder Thompson, we don't have anything you can threaten to jettison," One of the Knights responded, not even facing the Elder as she brought the anti-ship plasma artillery online. "We're here to stay until this is over."
Thompson shook his head, "Kids these days. Fine then, let's make sure we take as many of these bastards with us as we can in that case. The fleet will act as our shield but we have to thin the enemy ranks if we don't want them to get swept aside in the first wave. When the enemy fleet starts moving you pick your targets and don't stop 'til it's dead or running scared."
He settled into his chair at the heart of the room. "Brothers, sisters...it has been an honour."
Xxx
Turian Dreadnought A'kalez
Command Centre
Five minutes past deployment of surrender demand
"Well, that is long enough for me." Trisun decided, "We've given these aliens their chance, so now Desolas gets to have his wish." She straightened up in her chair. "Transfer fleet coordination to my chair, advise all ships to have their Nav VIs sync with my station. "
She was given several new holo-panels to punch commands into, guiding the symbols representing entire battle groups with a flick of her fingers and coordinating the entire fleet for their opening push.
"Cruisers hang back, remain spread out and deploy interceptor screens. Battlegroup A'kalez form up and advance, quarter thrust; we're leading the fleet in." She ordered, "We're going to push into their lines with a Wake Charge."
A Wake Charge was meant to mimic the wake created by water craft, with a ship at the centre guiding a formation of ships flanking it on both sides in an arrow shaped formation. The ships at the front of this formation would be frigates charging ahead, accompanied by bomber squadrons carrying Disruptor torpedoes. Behind them would be the slower cruisers and Dreadnoughts with their remaining frigate escorts, waiting for the first wave to soften up the enemy defences.
The Turian fleet flawlessly rearranged itself into this very formation and charged ahead, the frigates gunning forward with fighter squadrons keeping up just a few dozen meters behind them.
"Initiate Cloaked Talon movement," Trisun's talons delicately danced across he tactical screen, assigning frigates from each wolf pack to form up along with squadrons of fighters ahead of the formation. "Transmitting firing coordinates and plotting post-barrage rally points." With a flash of her Omni-Tool Trisun's had a VI randomly sort the frigates into two groups that would converge following the initial step of her strategy.
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BSF Chairman Benny
Command Centre
"What are they doing?" Thompson leaned forward, watching as the alien fleet entered formation only to them have a swarm of their frigate analogues accelerate ahead of the rest, escorted by a swarm of fighters, "Looks like they're keeping their big guns back and sending their faster ships and fighters to soften us up."
The aliens must have deduced correctly that the Chairman would be the heart of the defence line and therefore would be heavily armed. Of course even a backwards idiot fresh out of an asteroid mine for the first time in a year could probably tell as much, considering Thompson had arranged the fleet close to the station.
"They aren't accelerating to their top recorded speed," One of the Knights informed the Elder. "Their main fleet is moving at a snail's pace, this group is only just pulling ahead."
What was their game plan? At this rate they would take minutes to reach a decent firing range instead of seconds.
Xxx
The Turian frigates suddenly accelerated again, leaving their main fleet in the dust and moving forward in unison, a swarm of forty frigates accompanied by as many as two hundred fighters.
This sudden charge did not affect the Alliance personnel now waiting anxiously for the opening shots of their first interstellar war to be fired. Hands gripped gunnery controls tightly, sweat formed on brows and thousands of Alliance crewmen watched as the frigates approached a line marked on the sensors as the Alliance Fleet's maximum effective firing range.
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Turian Dreadnought A'kalez
Command Centre
Trisun's peered at the tactical screen intently, sharing the nervous anticipation of her foes whether or not she was aware of this on some level.
"Wait…" She whispered. "Wait…"
The crews of the forty frigates seemed to be charging right into the meat grinder from the looks of the fleet they were closing in on. Despite this not one ship so much as wavered in formation, maintaining its course and keeping in line with the rest. They displayed the discipline and fine tuned training that the Hierarchy expected its soldiers to master…and Trisun's could not help but feel a mixture of pride and despair as she watched the reach the point of no return.
"Deploy Cloak," She commanded, causing every Turian in the room to fly into a flurry of movement as they prepared for their own part.
Right now this moment belonged to the brave crews and pilots diving right into the enemy's teeth.
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The Turian frigates unleashed a barrage of Disruptor Torpedoes. These lethal weapons were cold launched, having to basically drift out of their firing tubes and use the velocity of the vessels they were launched from to follow the flight path the frigates had set themselves on. Within a second all forty frigates peeled away in perfect synchronicity, having practiced this tactic under Admiral Trisun's many times in simulations. The fighters split up to follow their designated charge, keeping close as the torpedoes ignited their thrusters and charged ahead.
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BSF Chairman Benny
Command Centre
"Incoming projectiles! Enemy ships have broken off their advance just beyond firing range!" A Knight shouted, tracking the forty projectiles as they streamed towards the Alliance Fleet at a slow pace. "They appear to be reducing velocity, and the sensors are picking up signs of mass effect fields around them."
"Recon drones are transmitting scanner results," A second knight reported, "The projectiles' masses are increasing. Sir, our barriers won't hold against something that bit. I don't think any ship could shrug off these things."
"Engage point defence screen! Shoot those damn things out of my air space!" Thompson barked. "And get me Deathstalker on the line!"
The Alliance Fleet came alive with a series of red laser beams lancing out from their defensive turrets. The HELIOS Defence Platforms located in proximity to the Chairman joined in, revealing themselves for the first time as twelve golden beams lanced out and struck several of the torpedoes in mid flight. Within seconds the barrage was neutralized, but now Thompson took notice of something else.
"What am I looking at right now?" The ghoul whispered, staring at the storm of blue energy violently raging just beyond the reach of his fleet.
"It would appear to be a…storm of some kind." The answer came from Captain Deathstalker aboard the cruiser Sharon of Rose. "There is something at play here. Be on guard."
For several moments silence reigned across the small fleet as many tried to understand what had just happened. It almost felt anti climactic, but others felt a sense of relief, thinking it had been a bluff of some sort.
"Sir, those are mass effect fields…violent ones too. They appear to be generating powerful and inconsistent gravitational distortions." The Knight at the sensor station explained. "Sir, the combat reports from the Fawkes report use of these weapons against the hijacked Manifest cruiser, but the detonations recorded were more…concentrated to one area rather than spread out like this."
"What is their game?" Thompson wondered. "We can still fire through this easily enough."
"I wouldn't be fully certain of that," Deathstalker cautioned the ghoul, "They have placed this with intent, and we have yet to see the full extent of their plan unfold."
"Enemy fleet is advancing! Full speed, deploying fighter screens ahead of their cruisers. The frigates from the initial charge are veering off to the sides, still outside the kill zone."
"When will the enemy enter the range of our cannons?" Thompson demanded.
"Thirty two seconds Elder Thompson!"
Thompson nodded. "Alright, let's see how they like to play games after they break their teeth against us."
"The first shot is yours, Elder," Deathstalker said humbly, "The fleet will be ready to follow up afterwards."
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Turian Dreadnought A'kalez
Command Centre, several moments earlier
"Cloak is up!" The Tactical Officer bellowed.
Trisun reacted immediately. "All ships forward! Divert power to engines and forward barriers, get us in as close as you can! We're on the clock here, we need to have all three Talons ready to dig in when the Cloak falls!"
Xxx
The Turian Fleet was charging forward almost as fast as the first wave of frigates. Cruisers and Dreadnoughts fell behind against a frigate any day of course, but they still maintained an impressive speed as they soared through the void towards their target.
Once they crossed the line that their frigates had barely avoided the Alliance Fleet began to charge their weapons, but it was the Chairman Benny that fired the opening salvo. A pair of green orbs of plasma shot out from an anti ship battery on the station and flew across the distance, aiming to meet the Turian fleet head on and strike at the two largest ships at the front of the formation…
But the moment they passed through the storm of mass effect fields the magnetic field keeping the plasma contained began to fail, suffering damage from the area where space-time was being bent to its limits. The projectiles managed to pass through, but they were beginning to break apart as they were designed to…or rather as they were designed to do after travelling several million more kilometres further. The violent gravity storm had weakened the magnetic fielding enough that the projectiles were mere clouds of plasma being carried forward by momentum by the time the A'kalez and Galius ploughed right into them and kept on moving with minor damage to their forward hull.
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Turian Dreadnought A'kalez
Command Centre
"Ma'am we took a hit…barely scratched the paint though." The tactical officer informed Trisun with a grin.
The Admiral did not respond, instead busying herself by directing orders to the captains of her fleet. "Remain on course and decelerate. Reroute excess thruster power back to main weapons."
The torpedoes used had been modified for this specific tactic. Instead of generating the random and violent mass effect fields in a single area, they produced them in a wider area at a sacrifice of reduced intensity. Forty torpedoes exploding in close proximity to one another while armed more than made up for this glaring loss of power. While it did next to nothing to stop the Alliance Fleet from detecting the Turians it made attacking with their powerful plasma weapons difficult and reduced the accuracy of their other weapons enough for Trisun's ships to get in far past the point where Alliance's main guns could have normally targeted them easily.
The consequence of using line of sight targeting was that it was rather useless if the space you were firing through was bending and shifting so much that it messed up a perfectly good shot.
Xxx
The Alliance Fleet realized that the Chairman's opening shot had been wasted and immediately opened fire with their own main guns. Plasma bolts flew through the storm only to weaken or explode entirely, reduced from the compact high heat orbs of death into what amounted as fragile water balloons filled with plasma. Others tried to use lasers with greater effect, managing to sheer away layers of armour from the Turian cruisers, which were taking the fire meant for their smaller frigate counterparts.
As this went on the violent storm known as 'the Cloak' began to dissipate of its own accord. The Alliance Fleet suddenly found itself staring down the sights of twenty Turian capital ships that were far closer than many captains would have preferred. The Turian fleet opened up with a salvo of mass accelerator rounds, striking several of the Wanderer class frigates as they tried to evade and even destroying two of them.
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BSF Chairman Benny
Command Centre
"Get me another firing solution!" Thompson barked as he watched the Turian Fleet instantly flood into the defence perimeter, far outnumbering his own fleet and drawing first blood with their opening barrage.
The HELIOS platforms blazed a trail through the conflict, managing to score several kills before the Turian fighter pickets began to focus on them. Each platform had several squadrons tasked to protect them, but it only took a single Disruptor torpedo from a fighter to cripple or outright destroy a platform. The golden beams began to grow less numerous, but left the wrecks of a half dozen Turian frigates in the opening minute of the fight.
Thompson could tell that this fight was going to be fast, brutal, and ending in the Turians' favour no matter what he did. The only thing he could do was maximize their casualties, soften them up for when the relief fleet arrived, and stall the invasion for as long as he could.
"Keep the Shady Sands back out of range, task the Gladiator and two frigates to protect it! Draw our fleet in closer towards the station; we'll nail those cruisers with our big guns!" Thompson called out orders as the main guns fired again.
This time they struck home against the side of a Turian cruiser, eating through the ablative armour easily and causing explosions to ripple along its frame as it listed to the side. The command crew of the Chairman let out a cheer before quickly seeking out another target.
What nobody noticed until it was too late were the positions of the forty frigates from the first wave…now flanking the Alliance Fleet and the Chairman.
"Elder! It would seem our enemy possesses no small measure of cunning!" Captain Deathstalker shouted. "We cannot hold out for long, my combat AI estimates that we have minutes at best!"
Thompson growled out a response. "Then until those few minutes are up we make them bleed for it!"
A moment later the image of Grump appeared on a holo-pedestal next to the Elder. "Is this a bad time to mention that Owen still hasn't left the station?" The AI asked, arms crossed.
"Grump, this isn't the time," Thompson waved one hand dismissively. "Return to the Fawkes and go into hibernation mode. If the enemy finds you, you have permission to self destruct."
"Oh, yippee." Grump drawled before vanishing.
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Turian Dreadnought A'kalez
Command Centre
"Admiral, the Talon is poised to strike." The Communications officer read a message from the frigate groups.
"They have leave to dig in when ready." Trisun nodded before the ship shuddered, receiving a laser broadside to its flank by one of the human cruisers. "Advise them to make it quick though."
She saw the second human cruiser further off, protecting what she had thought was the human dreadnought and flagship at first only to realize it had no main weapon, only swarms of fighters spewing from its hull.
"Task two frigate packs and a cruiser to attack the alien capital ships there." Trisun indicated the target. "We need that dreadnought sized ship out of commission, or at least for its fighter compliments to be thinned."
Xxx
As this went on, the two frigate flotillas charged in on the flanks, striking at the main body of the Alliance Fleet. Several frigates peeled off, heading right for the Shady Sands and the Gladiator. Their two escorts engaged the eight frigates while the Gladiator angled itself to protect the carrier, firing its broadside laser cannons and managing to destroy two of the frigates as they got in close.
Suddenly a projectile impacted against the Gladiator's shields, followed by a second as a Turian cruiser moved in closer, firing off a round every five seconds. The Alliance Cruiser reoriented itself to meet this threat, but it's shields began to collapse after the fourth round and allowed the fifth shot to break through, impacting against its exposed flank and shattering the armour there.
Several of the remaining HELIOS platforms were close enough to assist and focused their fire on the Turian cruiser, carving clean into its sides and making its hull glow and bubble. Turian fighters were once again redirected to attack these platforms, and were met by reinforced Alliance fighter squadrons bolstered by surviving flights from the fallen HELIOS platforms. The pilots of the Hierarchy found these targets much harder to get near as a result of the sheer amount of fighters, but still fought without hesitation to carve through the human fighter wings with fire support from one of the frigates tasked with the destruction of the Shady Sands. Blue beams of energy lanced out from the frigate, blasting apart several of the fighters ahead as it drove through the madness created by the clashing ships.
Upon clearing the battle with several Alliance fighters in pursuit the frigate set itself on a flight path leading straight towards one of the platforms and cold launched a single Disruptor Torpedo just a little short of the invisible line marked as the minimum safe firing distance. The frigate managed to veer off, rolling to the side and folding its wing like extensions while the torpedo ignited its thrusters and slammed into the platform, generating the more concentrated effect witnessed in the Tartarus Skirmish and tearing the station apart from the inside out.
This left the Alliance Fleet with a total of six HELIOS platforms out of the original twelve to provide fire support for the defence, and only two were close enough to help the Shady Sands and her escorts as the Turian cruiser continued to harass them before a shot from the Chairman Benny succeeded in striking it in its engines, effectively crippling the cruiser and leaving it to drift until the Turian crews succeeded in decelerating with secondary thrusters.
Despite having several successes and scoring upwards of twenty kills, mainly thanks to the Chairman's plasma turrets, the Alliance Fleet was beginning to drop like flies. Frigates fell under either sheer numbers or superior fire power, the pair of cruisers only managed to affect the outcome so much by sniping Turian frigates with their own plasma cannons and the two Turian Dreadnoughts were now converging on the star fortress that was holding the orbital defence together, pounding at its shields with perfectly time shots to ensure that there would be barely two seconds for the station's barriers to recover.
Slowly the Alliance Fleet began to pull back, and the Turians began to surge forward and surround the Chairman Benny even as it continued to blast at the invading fleet. The Galius ended up taking a shot to its belly near the front and ceased firing due to its primary weapon being disabled, but several cruisers picked up the slack and assisted in bringing down the fortress' defences.
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BSF Chairman Benny
Command Centre
"The defence line is collapsing," Thompson tried to coordinate the remaining ships as best he could, scoring another kill against a pair of alien frigates with the plasma turrets, "Get the Gladiator to pull back, and have the Shady Sands provide cover for them"
"Sir, the HELIOS defence grid is failing!" A Knight called out as the final defence platforms erupted with explosions and shattered in the distance, barely visible to the naked eye. "Enemy ships are converging on us, our fleet is being massacred!"
Deathstalker called out through the speakers, "Elder, we cannot maintain the defence! We must withdraw!"
Thompson growled, seeing his options shrinking with every second. "Send the order for the fleet to withdraw. We'll cover their retreat. All escape pods and shuttles are to head planet side if they don't want to end up splattered across the side of some cruiser."
"At once," Deathstalker answered, "Good luck, Elder."
"Ah don't get sappy, Death Claws aren't good at it." Thompson huffed, "And for the last time will you fucking kids get the hell off my station and go make yourselves useful on the ground?!"
"Not happening sir!"
"We're staying!"
Thompson groaned. "Damn it, just why did this particular generation have to be so stubborn?" He stumbled as the station shuddered, the barriers finally collapsing as the Turian Dreadnoughts finished wearing it down. "Final warning, clear out or we're all going to see if these aliens know the meaning of taking prisoners."
His command crew didn't even bother with responses this time, still operating the station's defences even as the Turians began to systematically blast them away with fighter swarms and precision mass accelerator rounds, slowly disarming the Chairman as the remaining Alliance ships began to retreat.
The Gladiator took a hit to its engines and resorted to launching its escape pods and shuttles just before the Turians managed to gut the dying ship with another barrage through its damaged side. Several of the frigates were too slow or damaged to escape and had to be evacuated if they survived long enough-one even elected to simply dive towards Shanxi only to be intercepted by a pair of Turian frigates, turning into a ball of fire as it plummeted down towards the surface, it's angle taking it a safe distance from the settled areas..
The Sharon of Rose and Shady Sands had managed to use the Chairman's stalling tactic to escort the remaining six frigates to a safe distance, allowing them to jump away as the Turian fleet, now short almost twenty frigates and five cruisers by the time the Chairman's guns fell silent moved in and surrounded the station and began to deploy boarding craft.
But to the Turians' credit: they didn't bother firing on escape pods. Sure, some may have been caught in the crossfire or smashed against a ship, but they'd had every chance to shoot down dozens of the escape pods streaming down from the station.
Trisun had made her order very explicit, as well as the consequence for failing to obey it.
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Turian Dreadnought A'kalez
Command Centre
"They've already lost," Trisun stated from the comfort and safety of the A'kalez's command deck, "Let them see how reasonable we can be and allow them to join their kin on the surface, and then we will give them one more chance to do the intelligent thing."
"Yes ma'am, and General Arterius is preparing to deploy the Galius' ground troops to establish a foothold. He also says that the Galius is no longer combat capable and advises that we have it fall back to friendly space."
Trisun nodded. "Agreed. After the Galius finishes deploying its invasion force have it execute a tactical withdrawal to the relay. Any other cruisers or frigates too damaged to continue may do the same. Frigates also have the option of joining the landing force ground side for repairs."
The loss of a Dreadnought would be unacceptable, and the needless destruction of several cruisers and frigates was little better. Even with the loss of twenty five ships and the withdrawal of another twelve-including the Galius, Trisun still had enough fire power to invade and hold this world. The ground side campaign would be up to Desolas however; Trisun and her fleet had done their part for his little war, now he would have to do the dirty work.
"Admiral, we're seeing several enemy escape pods that appear to be too damaged to safely land below. What shall we do with them?"
Trisun leaned back in her seat. "It seems we have our first prisoners of war. Collect them and bring them in…and do not let General Arterius know about this. These are my prisoners to hold, not his to torture. Send Colonel Victus a private message encouraging him to keep me posted on their progress down on the surface, which means hourly transmissions directly to my Omni-Tool."
Xxx
Shanxi System
Shanxi
22 Kilometers west of New Taiyuan, The Great Northern Steppe
Twelve minutes after failure of Shanxi Celestial Defence Line
A ball of fire ploughed through a cloud cover, slowly levelling off as thrusters built into the hull of the escape pod brought the nose up, aiming to have the module land as gently as possible along the flat terrain. Down below, a native creature of Shanxi known as a 'Plain Burrower' poked its head out of its hole, its ears raising in response to the noise generated by the approaching pod. The creature looked around, turning towards the pod just in time before it passed overhead, missing the creature's home by twenty feet. Feeling the head of the pod as it passed, the Plain Burrower gave a frightened yelp and scrambled back down into the darkness and safety of its hole.
The pod dug a trench several hundred meters long into the ground, coming to a stop while igniting some grass shrubs in its proximity. After several minutes to allow the pod's exterior to cool a hatch opened up and a gloved hand gripped the side before a disheveled and sickly looking Owen Mason climbed out and tumbled to the ground, quickly scrambling out of the trench and up onto the grassy terrain.
"Meta Jesus, just remembered why I seriously did not want to take a pod!" He growled as several other Alliance crewmen climbed out, some more gracefully and others with about as much dignity as the Captain had shown.
"We landed safely," One of the marines replied with a shrug, checking his laser rifle after climbing out of the trench. "I'd call this a victory, however small sir."
Owen shook his head and stood up, taking a few deep breaths. "Considering our fleet just got its ass kicked I think I'll wait to sound any trumpets until our reinforcements arrive and turn the tables." He looked up at the cloudless sky overhead, spotting the trails of what were either more escape pods or debris from destroyed ships and orbital facilities that the aliens had blasted through during or after the battle. "And in the meantime we're in the open, so we'd better think about either finding a nearby vault or hoofing it all the way to New Taiyuan."
Turning towards the group he had managed to hitch a ride with, Owen found two Alliance marines who had been guarding the escape pod, a Brotherhood Knight clad in grey and blue version of Alliance infantry armour with the symbol of an engineer emblazoned on his right shoulder pauldron, a scribe in a black and red uniform and a woman wearing the uniform of an Alliance pilot bearing the markings of the Shanxi Colonial Vertibird Wing.
"Sergeant," Owen addressed the marine who had spoken to him, "Get a fix on our location while we still have any satellites to triangulate from. Find us any Alliance or Brotherhood property within range. The rest of you set up a perimeter and keep on watch. We'll take a while to catch our breath, but after we decide on where we're going we are not stopping until we get there."
Owen checked the plasma pistol issued to him by Elder Thompson, confirming that it was still in working order. Between the rest of the group they had two laser rifles from the marines along with their sidearms, a plasma SMG and pistol from the Knight (Brotherhood soldiers had more access to plasma weapons) and another plasma pistol from the Scribe. One of the marines handed their sidearm to the pilot, who thanked him and went about helping to set up some sensors around their landing site.
The Marine Sergeant, whose IFF Tag came up as 'C. Scott' accessed Shanxi's global satellite network and found his options far more limited compared to how they had been before the alien fleet had arrived. Many satellites around the planet were offline already, and he expected the rest to quickly fall within the day. However one was passing close enough for him to get a lock on their position.
One problem that Sergeant Scott faced was that the system no longer displayed the exact locations of anything. As per the Desert Ranger Protocol all map data was erased to prevent the enemy from using it to easily find settlements they would otherwise have to look for with their own eyes or sensors, and more importantly to keep them from finding any vaults. Luckily each military grade Pip-Boy had a map of its own and a micro bomb to destroy all data storage hardware in the event of the owner dying, somebody trying to pry open or hack into the Pip-Boy or amputating the limb it was attached to. This second map showed the locations of permanent settlements and vaults, but lacked the ability to pinpoint the user's location.
Scott was able to compare his on board map to the nearly blank screen to find their location west of New Taiyuan.
"I've found us," Sergeant Scott announced, crouching and examining the computer he had hooked up to the escape pod's built in transmitter. "And I can see a few likely places within ten miles of here."
Owen climbed back into the pod and sat across from Sergeant Scott, holding out one hand. "Show me," He said, and accepted the small computer while Scott turned his arm over to show Owen their available options.
There were three vaults within ten miles of their crash site along with two settlements, but the latter would likely be abandoned and the former in the process of locking down. With his authorization code Owen could override one of the vaults and open the doors, but a part of him wanted to make for New Taiyuan to join in with the defence like Elder Thompson had told him to. But he had to think about these people with him, who may not be eager to rush off to a fight over twenty miles away when safety was much closer.
"Well, the way I see it we might not have any luck walking to the capital," Owen decided, "Unless anybody here is feeling patriotic enough to trek over twenty miles for a fight we're likely to miss the start of I think we should head for one of these vaults and-"
A sudden burst of static from the transmitter interrupted him. The two men could hear shouting and energy discharges reminiscent of a laser or plasma weapon. Owen signalled the Knight, pointing urgently to the transmitter as the combat engineer climbed into the pod with them. The Knight hooked his Pip-Boy up to the transmitter and cleared up the transmission.
"…peat, request…ault 9. We are under…run and they are cutting through the blast doors. I am broadcasting this message on all Alliance frequencies on a loop." The calm but stressed voice of a woman broke through the interference. "I repeat, this is Brotherhood Inquisitor Victoria Grey requesting reinforcements at Bunker Vault 9 in the western quadrant on the North Steppe. We are under attack by Manifest forces, our security force is overrun and they are cutting through the blast doors. I am broadcasting this message on all Alliance frequencies on a loop."
"Manifest? On Shanxi? Right in the middle of a fucking invasion they fucking caused?" Sergeant Scott seethed, having heard the reports behind the Tartarus System skirmish along with the rest of the rank and file troops once the civilians had been herded into vaults.
"This isn't playing from any of the civilian vaults, sir." The Knight reported, "I believe this may be one of the Brotherhood's own vaults. The Inquisition often sets up. Secret facilities to stockpile weapons and supplies, create hidden barracks or maintain hidden production facilities in the event of an invasion. If Manifest is attacking it then they must want something from it, and badly if they're willing to take on an entire compliment of Brotherhood soldiers."
Owen was more focused on the name of the speaker.
Victoria Grey, Inquisitor…
"Change of plans then," Owen stood up and climbed out of the pod. "I'm going to this Bunker Vault 9. If any of you don't wish to accompany me then Vault 15 is just four miles away. I'll transfer my authorization code to any of you so you can get in."
Scott climbed out after him. "Hold on, say what now? You're rushing towards a Manifest raid? Bearing in mind this means high tech and power armour clad infantry who took down a team of Brotherhood soldiers and every other defence the place threw at them. It's suicide on your own sir!"
"Doesn't matter." Owen shook his head, "Before this invasion began I was told that Inquisitor Victoria Grey is a VIP, high level, too valuable to lose. For whatever reason my own brother insisted that I get her as far from danger as possible, and I am not in the habit of breaking promises to family." He grabbed a ration pack and one of the medical kits, counting a full day's worth of food and half a dozen stim packs in addition to other medical supplies. "But you all aren't required to follow me, this is a volunteer only mission. You have every reason to get to one of those vaults and lay low until the fleet arrives."
"Wait," Scott insisted, grabbing Owen's shoulder. "Just wait a minute!"
Owen pulled free and gripped Scott's wrist. "Son, if you aren't either following me to that bunker or waddling your ass to a vault somewhere else this conversation stands only to piss me off." He growled.
Sergeant Scott tugged his arm back, his helmet hiding his expression. "I'm going with you," He said, speaking clearly to make sure Owen heard him and dispel the aggression being radiated by the officer. "If Manifest is after something there then that means I sure as hell don't want them to have it." Scott looked at the others. "The six of us won't make much of a difference against thousands of those aliens pouring into the capital, but maybe this bunker has something that we should be worried about."
The other marine shook his head. "What about the part where they just killed a whole lot of guys who are supposed to be able to take on twenty of me and walk away fine? We'd be slaughtered!"
"Power armour only takes you so far." Sergeant Scott insisted, gripping the Private's shoulder and shaking him a bit. "So you bite your tongue whenever you even think of pulling back just because the enemy is wearing a fancy suit! We all know how Manifest operates, and they wouldn't try to just hit a bunker in the middle of an invasion for maybe a few weapons or some extra gear. They only fish for big catches!"
The scribe nodded her head. "He's right. Manifest is up for stealing ships, new designs for technology, FEV to weaponize and things that could generally present a clear danger to the Alliance. If they're willing to pull a risky move like this then the pay off has to be big, or they at least think it's big. But it may also mean that they have a way off this planet, a stealth ship of some kind that could get around without being shot down by either side. It's how they always operate."
Stealth ships were a new concept, but not impossible to build. There were ships that could evade long range sensors and look like background data which wouldn't trigger an alert, but they would pop up on the more thorough short range sensors and be easily visible to the naked eye up close. Manifest could have potentially used one such ship if they planned to steal Brotherhood secrets and get away so they could put said secrets to use.
Owen, appreciating Scott's prioritizing and the scribe's rationalizing, stepped forward. "As I said before: this is volunteer only. You can still walk if you want, but I'm going to that bunker."
The other marine, Private Z. Wright, groaned. "…this is crazy." He shook his head. "This is fucking crazy…which is why I can't believe I'm going with you." He shouldered his supply pack and stepped forward.
The Scribe, a female ghoul whose IFF read 'Junior Inquisitor 1st Tier J. Parker' grunted. "Quit your belly aching kid, save it for when you actually have something to bitch about."
"Don't need to ask me twice," The Knight, Junior Knight E. Rice, hefted his plasma repeater as he spoke eagerly, "My brothers and sisters are in danger and I won't turn tail to that! I managed to pinpoint the source of the transmission several miles west of here towards a valley."
And finally the pilot, 2nd Lieutenant D. Sutton sighed and checked her borrowed energy pistol before answering, "Well, I'm not liking the idea of hiking to a vault all on my lonesome." She decided. "Guess I may as well tag along with you guys, go where the people with the big guns go and what not."
With their course decided, Owen cracked a smile and stepped past the group. "Well then let's not waste anymore time. Cmon folks, we've got some Manifest thugs with a death wish!"
As Owen walked away, Private Wright looked at Sergeant Scott. "He does know he's going the wrong way, right?"
"He doesn't have a map and compass built into a HUD like you and me," Scott rapped a knuckle against the side of Wright's helmet while walking in the opposite direction. "Give him a minute."
Several moments later the group could hear the distant shout across the grassy plains...
"Son of a whore!"
Xxx
CODEX OPENED
Accessing files…
File opened: The Cloaked Talon
A strategy devised by Admiral Varia Trisun to reduce the accuracy of an entrenched enemy fleet while moving her own fleet close enough to engage. Trisun had mainly implemented this against pirates and mercenary forces, but deduced that it could be used to neutralize the plasma based weaponry of the Alliance Navy. An analysis of the captured plasma cannons and combat footage from the Relay 314 incident showed that the plasma was contained in a magnetic field that dissipated over a certain distance, technically not making it a Direct Energy Weapon like a laser.
As per standard procedure in enacting this plan Trisun had several modified Disruptor torpedoes loaded onto the frigates accompanying her fleet and had them erect 'The Cloak', a wall of violent and randomly generated mass effect fields spread out over a wider area and in close proximity to one another. The torpedoes were set to go off simultaneously upon one of their number detonating, ensuring that enemy fire would not trigger any early enough to leave gaps in the Cloak. The Alliance was not aware of this until long afterwards, having believed they had managed to successfully shoot down all of the torpedoes, which were fired from just beyond their maximum effective range to ensure that the Turians would be able to gain at least some ground before the Alliance detonated the barrage.
This effect is reminiscent of the 'Area Warp' technique that some Biotics employ, widening the reach of their attack, and was set to maintain these fields for a longer period of time (less than a minute). The Cloak would weaken or nullify the magnetic field surrounding the plasma, weakening or cancelling the shots out completely and also serving to reduce targeting efficiency, as the Alliance Fleet relied on line of sight targeting like the average Citadel vessel and therefore found only a few of its shots managing to even graze their targets if they successfully passed through the Cloak intact. Lasers were found to be more reliable, but still suffered from a reduced accuracy.
During this period the Turian Fleet moved into firing range with minimal damage and engaged the Alliance Fleet at medium range once the Cloak faded of its own accord. The frigates assigned to deploying the Cloak moved off to the flanks, rallying to form two of the three 'talons' (the third being the main body of the fleet directly attacking from the front) that would strike at the Alliance Fleet and defensive emplacements. Overwhelmed by the Turians' numbers, the Alliance Fleet was routed within an hour and forced to retreat while the BSF Chairman Benny was captured intact.
Despite her involvement in the First Contact War, Varia Trisun was praised for this ingenious tactic. Some believe that it had been due to her humane treatment of prisoners of war and her subsequent clashing with General Desolas Arterius that the Alliance did not demand her extradition.
Accessing Files…
Opened file: BROTHERHOOD BUNKER VAULTS
It is publicly known that the Brotherhood of Steel's Inquisitors often establish hidden bases on Alliance colonies or abandoned asteroids. Each is supposed to house production facilities for weapons, armour and even starships, to act as emergency factories/hidden bases/rally points in the event of an invasion of Alliance space. The locations of these bases are kept secret, but the populace is aware that they exist and some even make efforts to locate them only to meet with failure or simply vanish, supposedly having gotten too close. These Bunkers are manned by a skeleton crew and security staff to activate it should a world fall under siege.
File closed
Accessing files…
File opened: Pip-Boy Military Model
Military personnel are given a new version of a Pip-Boy designed to ensure they are able to acquire, transport and if necessary dispose of classified intelligence. Each Pip-Boy contains a micro bomb cable of destroying the internal hardware with minimal harm to the user, and has numerous applications which can be modified should the user wish it. Prothean computer technology has greatly enhanced the performance of Pip-Boy models, and allowed for them to be built in smaller, sleeker forms.
File closed
Accessing files…
File opened: Question, WHY DIDN'T THE ALLIANCE PLACE MICRO BOMBS IN THEIR ENERGY WEAPONS TO PREVENT THE COUNCIL RACES FROM ACQUIRING THEM?
Warning, file has been edited by unauthorized sources.
The answer is simple you moron: because nobody wants to carry around a plasma rifle that could turn into a live plasma grenade or pony up the cash needed to outfit the entire Alliance military from the side arm of the lowliest soldier on the most distant outpost to the main guns on the whole Alliance Navy. We just don't have the technology to safely theft-proof weapons on such a scale, and it would be better spent focusing on the still incredibly rare Theta energy weapons (rare outside of Mars anyways), as last I recall a single Theta pistol has more punch in it than ten plasma rifles and only the real tough black ops squads get to use them anyways (again, outside of Mars), at least then you could justify the cost and the risk.
You could even get away with doing it to the main guns on our ships since there are only a few hundred, but to EVERY SINGLE ENERGY FIREARM IN HUMAN SPACE? And again, there's a chance that you'd turn more than a few into grenades waiting to go off in the process.
Money doesn't grow on trees. Scientists don't magically produce results on the first day. And the Alliance can't magically modify every single weapon in their arsenal to keep them out of enemy hands. That's just how life is so quit whining about it and just deal with it.
File closed
End of Chapter
Hm…I know I may just be pessimistic, but I still didn't like how this chapter turned out-then again I'm beginning to believe that I am simply paranoid in that way. I mostly just wanted the opening battle at Shanxi out of the way. I went back a few times to rework it even after I'd finished the whole battle and said 'okay this will have to do'. I just hope that this final product pleases my readers.
The Cloak was something I made up for this. It doesn't make it impossible to see or shoot at a target, it's just meant to screw with line of sight targeting long enough for a fleet to get in close. Disruptor Torpedoes are essentially a mechanical equivalent to a Biotic Warp attack on a larger scale, so I wondered if it would be possible to replicate the wider area effect that some Biotics can train themselves to achieve (just as they can with Throw, Lift, Slam, Shockwave, Singularity, etc). Maybe it isn't feasible, but this is called science fiction for a reason and I thought it would be an interesting concept.
And we have also introduced…five new characters who you likely will never become invested in. Maybe I'll do something with them, maybe not. I chose their names from my Fallout IOS App game.
I am more excited for the next few chapters, which will be divided between the battle for Shanxi and the events at this Bunker Vault.
As always I encourage you to point out inconsistencies, faults and mistakes I may have made, and again: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, because if you didn't then I failed epically.