The Cosmic Age

by Familiar47

Long after the days of the Courier and the Lone Wanderer, humanity uses the technology of alien visitors to build themselves back up. When they reach out into the cosmos however, they discover that the galaxy is not always receptive to the adventurous. Rated for violence and language. Bashing kept at a minimum.

5. Chapter 4: Fall of Shanxi Part 2

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.

And one final note: an anonymous review in the previous chapter was used for the purpose of simply saying 'fuck you' (and that is actually a direct quote stating the entirety of the review's contents) and has been removed. I won't tolerate reviews that don't offer a form of criticism, opinion, or reaction to this story. If you are typing up a review just to say a few hurtful words to somebody who you have never met and never shall meet then I won't even look twice at it. That being said, I will NOT erase anonymous reviews that point out flaws in my work.

If you see a number in parenthesis that means there is an intentional reference which I shall acknowledge.

And on a brighter note (adding this in days after the previous one), it appears that I have reached 100 followers for this story. This is the most attention that one of my stories has ever received! I'd like to just give a big Thank You to everybody who has tuned in for this story! Let's see if we can also get 100 Favourites for this too.

Xxx

Chapter Four: Fall of Shanxi, Part Two

Shanxi System, Shanxi

New Taiyuan

With the news that the fleet had been pushed back and the star fortress captured, the soldiers occupying New Taiyuan began to prepare for the ground invasion that would likely follow. Soldiers were forming defensive lines at every entrance to the city while others clustered in areas around the defensive emplacements that would be fighting off the coming alien aircraft. The perimeter turrets on Shanxi's outer walls were to act more as the obvious targets for attacks while the ones located further in would remain safely protected.

Squads of Alliance marines clad in black and brown armour were spread out through the districts, placing charges in anticipation of the enemy breaching the city. Others set up blockade points but left other more obvious routes open with the idea of herding enemy forces down a more convenient path which the defenders could pick them off on. Brotherhood soldiers in grey and blue variations of the marine armour were tending to their various mechanized units that had been transferred down from the Chairman prior to the fleet engagement.

These were the modern variations of the hulking knights who had patrolled the wastelands a century ago. Their armour made them seem like giants, strong enough to punch through a wall, provided them with the ability to fight their way through a warzone single handed while carrying a metric ton of equipment and had some of humanity's best tactical AIs connected to them (all minor ones that barely had any sentience). These juggernauts could be seen moving in groups of six, scattered throughout the city to defend the defensive emplacements and ambush any hostiles who breached the perimeter.

Colonel Ashe Williams (1) was overlooking a holo-map of the city, examining the distribution of troops and assets. Between the available militia not assigned to protecting the vaults, volunteers ranging from soldiers on leave to mercenaries and private security operators and then the stragglers from the escape pods deployed from the disastrous orbital battle he had a little over forty two thousand available infantry and another five hundred armored infantry from the Brotherhood's power armor clad warriors. The colony had a standard compliment of several hundred armed vehicles, a few columns of tanks and even approximately three hundred Vertibird gunships.

Usually this was more than enough to ensure that a colony was safe from Manifest's attacks, but Ashe had never felt more vulnerable than this day.

"The vaults are reporting survivors from the fleet arriving at their doors," One of General William's aids informed him, squeezing through the throng of uniforms occupying Williams' command post at the New Taiyuan Community Hall. "They're asking for orders."

"Tell them to let them in," Williams answered while lighting a cigarette and plopped it between his teeth before flicking his lighter shut with a flick of his wrist, "The aliens haven't deployed any infantry yet, there's no risk of the vaults being compromised by a few extra hands."

The aid nodded and muttered a response as he walked away, relaying this decision to the proper people.

Williams walked to the nearest window and stared out at the glimmering city before him, taking in the view of the river that cleaved part of the community in twain and how it glittered in the sun. It was almost hard for him to believe that in the next few hours this place would be the sight of a terrible battle. He blew a puff of smoke before tapping his Pip-Boy and contacting a Major assigned to the Comm. Centre. "Do we have contact with Deathstalker yet?"

The armor clad Death Claw nodded, a low rumble escaping its snout. "Yes sir, we are able to send and receive one way transmissions. He has eight ships, including the Cruiser Sharon of Rose and the Carrier Shady Sands hiding on the moons of Macau (2). They are affecting repairs with the help of the Processor Facilities located there, and are evacuating the personnel from the mines onto transports."

"Tell him to remain low, and don't take any risks." Williams ordered, "He's to wait until the reinforcements arrive and then rendezvous with them and provide all recorded tactical data. The fleet needs to know that these aliens have a counter to our energy weapons."

The Death Claw Major rested a fist against its fist and bowed its head. "Yes sir, I shall inform him." His image faded, and Williams returned to staring at New Taiyuan and the vast form of the Brotherhood of Steel's Citadel.

"God help us when you bastards get off your pretty little ships and come down here," He muttered, staring at the sky overhead, "Wonder if you're as tough in person as you are from a few million miles away."

Xxx

Great Northern Steppe, bank of the Lu River

"We're closing in on the source of the signal," Sergeant Scott called out from up ahead where he was on point for the rest of the group, which was travelling along the man made river that was used to provide water to the local farms. "I'd say maybe..." The marine glanced down at his Pip-Boy, which had deployed a small holo-panel to show the strength of the signal. "Less than half a mile by now."

"That's half a mile too far if you ask me." Owen grunted, feeling the blazing sun beating down on him. Summers on Shanxi were not the best time for wearing a full uniform; armour at least regulated body heat, but Owen had not woken up with the idea of being stuck out here in his regular uniform. He'd taken off his coat and ditched it a few miles back, cursing the fact that out of the entire group he was the only one who had not thought to change into something more protective before the invasion had started.

Scott chuckled, shaking his head, "Oh trust me Captain, it could be a lot worse."

"Boy if you jinx us I'm going to shoot you in the ass," Owen growled, not in the mood for the marine's 'sparkling' personality.

Fortunately Scott took the hint and clamped his mouth shut, focusing on the holo-screen. "Wait, wait...the signal is getting weaker now." He held up his other arm and formed a fist to signal for the group to stop before he took a few steps back. "Yeah...I think we're right over the signal now."

The six looked around, seeing only the slope leading down towards the river on their left and wide and flat plains on their right.

"..." Owen sighed. "Great, somehow Manifest didn't manage to leave a big fucking hole when they stormed this vault and now we have to do the searching."

A voice called out to them from down at the river. "I wouldn't count on that!"

The team spun, levelling their weapons at the source of the noise only to see a figure waving to them. It wore brown armour over a black hard-suit, the signature attire of an Alliance marine. His helmet was off, showing that he was human, and a rifle lay in the sand by his feet.

"Friendly!" The marine shouted as he saw them turn their sights on him, and wisely kept his hands where they could see them.

"Identify yourself!" Scott called out. "And walk towards us slowly."

The man sighed, but obeyed. He began to walk up the slope towards them while answering the command.

"Campbell, Nathan, Sergeant," He said, "Shanxi colonial marine garrison. I was on one of the regular patrol frigates in orbit before shit hit the fan. I went down in an escape pod, likely the same way you did. I heard the distress call from Inquisitor Grey and I came here to help."

"Let's verify that," Owen decided, stepping forward and holstering his plasma pistol, "Hold out your Pip arm, son." The younger man obeyed, and Owen extended his own Pip-Boy until it was parallel with Campbell's. Several cables extended between the two, and Owen ran a quick scan for credentials before overriding the security programming with his authentication code.

Owen took only a few moments to look over Campbell's profile before retracting his Pip-Boy. "He's legit, stand down." The men and women behind him lowered their weapons. "Sorry about that son, couldn't take any chances."

Campbell relaxed and grinned, "Just happy to be alive, sir."

Now Owen was aware of how Campbell towered over him by a full head. The young man was built like an ox: six and a half feet at the very least, broad shoulders, powerful arms, a square jaw framed by well trimmed facial hair (Colonial garrisons had discretion to be lax in certain protocols), closely cut blonde hair and blue eyes. He wasn't some super model, but he was the sort of man who would likely be put on a recruitment poster to display a positive image like any military dating back to the Pre-War US Armed Forces would do.

"You said something about how we might not have to do a whole lot of looking for that Vault entrance," Owen pointed out, "Care to elaborate on that?"

"Quite simple: I found it already," Campbell clarified as he turned back towards where his helmet and rifle rested by the water and beckoned for the group to follow him down. "The reason that Manifest didn't blow a hole in something was because they wanted to get into this vault without risking damage to it. There are several entrances, but this is the only one that is unlocked for personnel to come and go freely."

As he reached the edge of the river he turned to a large rock resting a few feet from the tide and kicked it over, revealing something embedded into the ground beneath it.

"This whole river is man made," Campbell explained as he knelt down and gripped what was revealed to be a handle. "I'm wagering that the Brotherhood oversaw that little project so they could build their bunker down there first, and then the river could be set over top to explain away the sudden need for digging equipment." He pulled on the handle and then rotated it clockwise by ninety degrees before releasing it, letting the handle retract into its hidden alcove. "And if I were to guess, this is how one would open it from the outside."

The ground began to rumble beneath their feet as a shape began to rise out of the water, extending some metal barriers to divert the river's flow to the far side while a stone ramp leading down to a deeper part of the river bed where the opening of a tunnel was located was revealed to them. It was wide and tall enough for a whole vehicle or over a dozen people to rush through at once, slanted down and protected by some metal doors which remained sealed against the tide until the water had been diverted. Now only some odd splashes and trickles of liquid managed to get onto the pathway before them, sloshing over the sides of the raised barriers. The water was deep enough that nobody would be able to spot the entrance from the surface, and nobody lived on this part of the river who might randomly dive in for a swim anyways.

"Well...that's one way to hide a Vault," Private Wright muttered before Lieutenant Sutton suddenly grabbed Campbell by the shoulder and spun the larger man around-likely more due to him not resisting than her own strength, as he looked like he weighed too much for someone to move unless they wore full sized power armour.

"Wait one damn second, how the hell do you happen to know about all of this?" Sutton demanded as she levelled her laser pistol at his chest. "You said this is the way the Enclave took to get in!"

"Uh...yeah, because I saw those two gentlemen making use of it before I killed them." Campbell calmly answered as he gestured off to his right...to a pair of armor clad corpses resting amidst a rocky outcropping, their blood draining into the river and being washed downstream.

Manifest armour resembled the old standard issue Enclave power armour, only it was less bulky to reflect how the terrorist organization had gladly made use of Prothean technology to streamline their own equipment. The two 'Neo Enclave' soldiers had been using heavy plasma casters, both of which lay near the corpses along with a collection of microfusion cells that were arranged in a neat pile.

"They were keeping guard up here, so I stayed out of sight further down the bank to keep from being spotted," Campbell gently forcing Sutton to lower her pistol as he told them of the events in question, "One of them started talking on his radio, said something to his partner about 'the target' being located and that their team needed support. They opened up the entrance, and I took the chance to hit them both with a few good hits from my rifle while they were distracted."

He then indicated several scorch marks on the ground further down the river bank which the team had missed. "They got off a few shots of their own, but I made sure to aim for their optics and I had the higher terrain, a better shooting posture and a more accurate weapon to boot. They went down after I used a whole energy clip on them, and then I shut the entrance and piled them off to the side. After that I decided to wait here for a while and either catch their pals by surprise with some of these," He opened a compartment on his armour to reveal plasma grenades, likely taken from the dead Manifest troopers, "Or if some friendly backup would arrive."

Campbell passed the grenade to Owen, adding with another grin, "And here you."

Owen tossed the grenade up and down once, looking for any holes in the story. Campbell's presence was strangely convenient, but he had no reason to doubt the man's word or the evidence. It wasn't like Manifest would even go as far as to kill a few of their own soldiers just to make a convincing cover story for one man, especially since there weren't any foreseeable benefits to such a convoluted and theoretical scheme.

Owen looked at Sutton and shook his head when he saw her realigning her aim. "Holster your gun, Lieutenant. We've got no reason to suspect foul play from Sergeant Campbell."

Sutton hesitantly complied, sliding the pistol into place on the magnetic clip on her belt.

After picking up Campbell's rifle and tossing it to him, Owen nodded to the marine. "Lead on, Sergeant. Wright, Scott, pick up those plasma casters. They'll come in handy for clearing any opposition ahead of us."

The two marines obeyed, grabbing as many microfusion cells as they could carry before following after the group down into the tunnel. After they passed the open doors Campbell grabbed a switch on the wall, causing the doors to slowly slide shut behind them, sealing them in and keeping the water out.

Several lights snapped on along the walls, illuminating the passage as it took them deeper beneath the surface of Shanxi. It ended at what appeared to be a large security checkpoint that was littered with the bodies of several Brotherhood soldiers scattered across the road and the flanking turret platforms along with the odd Manifest trooper. Behind this was a massive cog shaped door, looming overhead with the symbol of the Brotherhood of Steel's Inquisition (Intelligence Division) set over the grey number 9.

"Welcome to Vault Bunker Nine, children," Owen spoke aloud, "Now let's go about this carefully. Assume that Manifest has us outnumbered and outgunned enough that they were able to take this entire vault. We are going to be cautious, smart and most of all we are not going to get into any fights we can avoid."

He looked at Scott and Wright. "You two only use those big guns if we need them." Then Owen looked to the Brotherhood Knight, Rice. "That suit of yours has a stealth generator on it, right?"

Rice nodded, "Yeah, it's good to keep me cloaked for up to five minutes on a full charge, but it needs time to recharge after that...and it charges faster under solar energy."

"It'll do," Owen assured him with a nod before looking at Inquisitor Parker, "And you?"

"Never leave home without it," Parker rasped, "And I can guarantee mine will last longer, no offence Rice." She shrugged. "Inquisition just gets higher quality stealth gear. We're the ones who are supposed to do the sneaking in this Brotherhood."

Owen walked over to the exterior control panel for the Vault door, which appeared to have suffered from a high heat energy projectile-or at least that was Owen's best guess, seeing as the thing looked like a melted candle. "Well nobody will be doing any sneaking unless we can get this door open," He informed the group.

"Allow me, Captain." Rice stepped forward and pried the melted panel out of the wall to reveal the damaged circuitry within, and spoke as he began to sort through the half burnt mess, "If this was designed and built by the Brotherhood Inquisition then you can bet your ass that it'll have several redundancies that you just need to look for..." He extended a fibre-optic cable from his armour and fed it through the tangle of wires and circuitry. "Like practically laying it out for how to generate a signal to the door matching the one sent out when you pull the 'open/close' switch. Or at least they lay it out for anybody who knows their way around this stuff."

Rice reached through with one arm, sinking it in past the elbow and tearing away several wires. Grasping two sparking ends, one in each hand, Rice leaned in and pressed them against something. The door began to move backwards, sliding out of place as an alarm began to buzz and golden lights flashed.

"Shit! Kill the alarm!" Owen called out.

Rice shook his head and looked back at the Captain with a pale face, muttering shakily, "I-I can't! The alarms are wired inside of the door, not out here!"

And there went the element of surprise.

Xxx

Shanxi Orbit

Turian Dreadnought A'kalez

Command Deck

Admiral Varis Trisun watched as shuttles and fighters flew from the burnt wreck that had been the Galius, which would be returning to Palaven immediately after it was done offloading its forces. Desolas was waiting to be the last one off, refusing to leave until all of his men were either deployed to the ground or relocated to other ships for proper medical care. While she held contempt for the upstart Trisun couldn't deny that he at least had an admirably attachment to those under his command-although they were only in peril now because the fool had pursued this conflict.

"Ma'am, friendly contacts approaching from the Relay," Her XO, Commander Rixar informed her in a soft tone. "It's the transport fleet."

Even with over a hundred ships still operational, Trisun and Desolas lacked the manpower to conquer and occupy an entire planet. Their dreadnoughts held a compliment of around five hundred soldiers each, their cruisers held less than two hundred a piece and their frigates barely had twenty as an on board compliment. Only a few thousand Turian soldiers, no matter how battle hardened would not be able to lay siege to the city below if the recon intel was to be believed.

That was why Trisun had, prior to the fleet moving out, petitioned Palaven for a fleet of transport ships to support the invasion. Unlike warships, civilian or non-combat vessels were not regulated based on size, and this allowed for the Hierarchy to make use of kilometer long transports capable of carrying thousands of Turian soldiers along with adequate supplies, vehicles and even fighter craft to cement their position over this alien world.

This fleet of forty transports also came with an escort of eight new cruisers, as per Trisun's explicit request.

"Have them form up around the station," Trisun decided, rising from her chair, "In the meantime I am going to pay our guests a new visit to see what I can find out. You have the deck Commander."

She departed the bridge and made her way to the boarding tube that linked her ship to the captured enemy battle station. Technicians were already all over the structure inside and out, scavenging for any useful materials or technology. As Trisun stepped onto the gun metal grey grating that made up the floor of the station she could see that it was a well rounded design with the specific aim of ensuring any defending force would maintain an advantage thanks to the narrow corridors, each air lock being located beneath a balcony that would provide a suitable sniper's perch, the numerous security bulk heads and energy fields that had to be disabled through trial and error and most of all the combat drones that had claimed the lives of almost fifty of her men before the station was fully secured and its few occupants taken into custody.

"Admiral on the deck!" A black armored Turian barked while snapping to attention in response to Trisun's arrival in the hangar that now served as a holding area for less than a hundred of the aliens.

"At ease," Trisun replied curtly to the salutes being sent her way. "Lieutenant Vakarian, give me a status update on the Translation Index."

The black armored Turian's visor receded from his face, showing blue markings on his grey tinted scales. "Ma'am, we have made some progress, but so far we only have several words figured out." He looked to where several of his men had the surviving defenders sitting in a group under watch and where two other Turians had one of the prisoners sitting in a chair. One Turian had his Omni-Tool open and was recording the findings of his partner, who was doing the hardest and most frustrating part of developing a working translation Index without the help of an Asari mind meld: their prisoners knew it as 'charades'.

"For the most part the captives are being mildly cooperative, with only a few refusing to acknowledge or respond to any queries." Vakarian continued. "We have managed to master basic commands and requests such as ordering them to sit, stand, where to move and are trying to initiate more complex dialogue. The furthest we've gotten is the name of their race."

To demonstrate, Vakarian walked over to the prisoner being interviewed and knelt down to their level. It was one of the Asari like specimens, the ones who did not look like they were suffering necrosis. She paled a bit at the close proximity, but relaxed when Vakarian raised one talon to his own chest and stated, "Turian."

The female hesitantly mimicked his movement. "H-human," She responded.

"Human?" Trisun tilted her head, and nodded. "Good, maybe I can find a pattern to lead us along the right path. Pardon me, Lieutenant." She had him step back. "Transmit all current translations to my Omni-Tool." It was done within three seconds, and she was able to see a list of words translated from Turian to Galactic Basic and finally to this strange language.

"Stand." The human seemed unnerved by how easily Trisun was suddenly able to speak her language, not comprehending the complex translation software enabling this exchange. "Follow."

Trisun guided the woman over to where a row of bodies were set. These souls had resisted to the very end and had to be put down to end the fighting, much to Trisun's regret.

Trisun pointed to herself while saying, "Turian."

Then she pointed to the human and added, "Human."

And finally she pointed to the corpse of one of the necrotic humanoids.

The human took the hint and answered, "Ghoul."

Trisun's Omni-Tool Translation Index automatically updated to include this new word. "Ghoul," The Turian Admiral repeated, and had the woman identify the other races recorded from the initial skirmish via projecting images of them from her Omni-Tool.

One was called Meta Human, and the other-the larger and fearsome reptilian specimen was identified as a Death Claw.

Nodding in approval at this new information, Trisun recorded it all before pointing back to the group of prisoners. "Return. Sit."

The woman obeyed, not willing or able to resist with over thirty Turian soldiers keeping an eye on her every move and the doors being blocked off by several more each. She sat back with the others, and Trisun noted how one of the other humans, a male variant perhaps, held her hand as she sat down.

"I think we're off to a good start," Trisun murmured, pleased with the results she'd produced in such a short period. "Now, let's see if we can't teach them a few Turian words and get this Index finished sooner. And fetch me Captain Pridius, I would like to have a...private conversation with him once I'm done here."

Xxx

Shanxi

Forty miles east of New Taiyuan

Turian Staging Ground Alpha

Desolas looked over the encampment being established as thousands of Turian soldiers spilled out of a fleets of transports and gunships. Armored vehicles rolled out onto the fertile ground while large fortifications were erected, all centering on where Desolas had landed with his command staff in the middle of a series of hills and valleys. All around he could see landing pads being set up for air craft with fuelling stations to keep them topped up, turrets capable of punching holes through armour and intercepting a whole wave of missiles with upwards of ninety five percent targeting efficiency at their fastest response speed, squad leaders barking out orders as they directed their subordinates to their positions and best of all several entire frigates that had chosen to land and assist with the campaign once they finished repair procedures.

Approaching the General from behind was a Turian with white facial markings decorating his darker carapace. This Turian was clad in black and red armour like most of Desolas' command personnel, but he was far from Desolas' idea of a proper officer as one could get without being incompetent or outright insubordinate.

It was not that Desolas actually hated Colonel Adrien Victus for any personal reason. This was the first time he had even met the older Turian...but Victus' reputation had spoken whole volumes about the man over the years. He was unconventional, spat on years of military tradition to 'improvise' in situations, and acted less like a Turian warrior and more like he was pretending to be some Asari or Salarian who would try to talk the situation out or 'fight smart' by basically not fighting at all the way Desolas had over the years. The only reason why he had accepted Admiral Trisun's recommendation was because Victus had one feature that made up for all of his flaws: he always got results, regardless of how shameful the method may be.

For example, several years ago Victus had been dispatched in response to a pirate raid against a Turian colony. It had obviously been another sponsored attack by the Batarian Hegemony, but the lack of evidence prevented Desolas and many others from simply steam rolling through the borders of the slaver state and taking their people back. After locating the pirate base Victus had been ordered to follow the standard doctrine of not discriminating between combatants and civilians in the battle zone, but had instead personally led a team to infiltrate the base and, after disabling the defences and hacking into the mainframe to find incriminating evidence, had used a nerve gas the slavers preferred for keeping slaves docile to render every last person besides his time unconscious.

In the end Victus had managed to gain the Council the chance to extradite a Batarian official who had sponsored and funded the raid, gaining more than enough testimony from both the captured slavers and their computer banks. He had also saved many slaves who had been indoctrinated by their masters to the point that they had actually been set up on guard duty to keep watch on newly captured Turians...

Many praised Victus for it, but Desolas saw it as breaking from the traditions that had guided the Hierarchy for thousands of years. And what right did one insignificant officer have to suddenly decide that the methods of the Hierarchy were not acceptable? There were clear and rigid protocols for how to respond to a situation, and he had endangered his entire team and the rest of his task force all because he hadn't wanted to get the blood of a few brain washed slaves on his hands. Using a stealthy approach was acceptable, but going out of his way to do things far outside his mission parameters had needlessly put the entire mission and the Hierarchy's good reputation on the line.

"General, our forward outposts have been set up." Colonel Victus informed his superior, who he had only been attached to by the request of Admiral Trisun after his entire garrison was snatched up for this invasion.

Desolas turned to Victus and fought back the urge to scowl at the sight of the man, instead conducting himself with a neutral expression, hands folded behind his back and a level tone of voice being used. "Very good Colonel, keep me updated on any new developments regarding the..." He checked his Omni-Tool for the fresh data from Admiral Trisun, "Human city."

"Yes sir," Colonel Victus nodded, "And also sir...I was told that you were awaiting the arrival of a Ghost unit. I've been told that they arrived on a frigate minutes ago and are awaiting orders."

Desolas allowed himself to crack a smile at this news, and chuckled as he stepped past Victus and stepped towards the raised platform here his command staff were working at several holo-panels to coordinate the set up of the base camp. "Excellent!" He clapped his hands together once. "They were faster than I'd thought, give them my regards and tell them to assemble...here."

Desolas pointed out an area on a holo-map, indicating one of the forward observation posts closer to the city. "You will meet them there to brief them on how we shall proceed."

"Of course sir," Victus nodded stiffly, "And if I might sir...might I be permitted to know what the overall plan is for this occupation?"

"Simple and by the book, that is what." Desolas responded. "We will seize the enemy colony, occupy it, gain as many samples of their weapons technology as possible and then wait for further reinforcements to begin our push into further systems under their control."

Victus' eyes visibly narrowed ever so slightly, "Are we truly intending to acquire these people as a vassal race by force of arms?" He asked. "The Council would not approve of such harsh measures past occupying this world to set an example. We have already shown that our fleets are superior to their own, and any advantage they have in the area of weapons technology will soon be lost. Is it truly necessary to throw more Turians into the meat grinder when we could intimidate our enemy into a bloodless surrender across the rest of their territories?"

And this was why Desolas did not like Victus. No personal reasons, but the man thought his own methods were preferable to the ones that had led the Turian Hierarchy to being the mightiest power in the galaxy.

"Colonel," Desolas' voice grew firm and cold, "It is not your place to question our course of action. These people have butchered themselves through mutations and are clearly a reckless society dabbling in dangerous forms of science. Their very existence is an affront to the conventions that define the collective society of Council Space and I shall not allow a black and white view of morality to get in the way of neutralizing the threat they pose. You shall fall in line or I shall see to it that your military career becomes a good deal less pleasant following this campaign. Am I clear?"

Victus was barely restraining an aggressive retort by this point. Here he was being lectured like some child by a Turian several years his junior, some child who had come to a grand position through bloodshed and ruthlessness where he had worked hard to preserve the pride and soul of both his people and the galaxy. Every instinct in him told him to knock Desolas down, humble the overgrown brat and show him that his rank meant less than nothing in the face of experience!

...

But then the self control and cautious nature that had led to him being on the receiving end of a great deal of criticism from his peers kicked in, and Victus slowly exhaled while keeping a straight face.

"Yes sir." He responded, cursing himself inwardly for not bloodying Desolas' face then and there.

"Perfect," Desolas turned away from Victus. "General Oraka will be advising the forward outposts. Meet him there and coordinate your units to scout out the outlying defences until the Ghost unit arrives at your position."

Taking that as a signal of dismissal, Victus saluted stiffly and then walked away, hands clenched into fists. Once he was walking across soft grass and away from the chaotic heart of the Turian base campe Victus opened his Omni-Tool and patched into Admiral Trisun's personal frequency.

"Command: One way encrypted transmission." He said. "Message begins: Desolas is bringing in the Ghosts. Have been ordered to link up with Oraka at FOB to supervise and brief them. Will maintain regular updates." He kept his voice low so that his words were lost among the noise around him.

Nobody would suspect that even Colonel Victus would spy on a General on behalf of an Admiral.

Xxx

Vault Bunker 9

Entrance Checkpoint

After the door finished opening with enough noise to awaken a city the group advanced through with the armored trio of marines leading the way. Campbell raised one arm and gazed around the room beyond the door. It was like a loading dock, meant for vehicles to drop off supplies or personnel, but there was also a space for them to park off to the side where several ARVs were resting, all doors open and the seats empty. Campbell took notice of the positioning of several armored forms sprawled on the floor close to these vehicles and knelt, examining the area of their wounds and forming a scenario in his head...

Only for Owen to voice the very thing Campbell had been thinking.

"Well now we know how they got in." Owen said as he slapped the side of one of the ARVs. "They came in on Alliance vehicles to look like a supply shipment, waited until they were inside and then gunned down all the guards close by as they got out."

He raised one arm and aimed two fingers at the unmanned turrets resting atop the ARVs, and then slowly drew an invisible line leading from it to the slaughtered Brotherhood members. "They used the turret to take them by surprise, cut right through their armour in the first salvo." He turned his attention to the bodies located further from the vehicles, noting how they appeared to have been behind cover for the most part. "These ones here reacted faster and got behind cover, left a few marks on the ARVs here." He patted a scorch mark on the side of one of the vehicles. "But the turrets cut them down whenever they stepped out to take a shot."

There were a total of nine dead guards, and not one of them wore Enclave armour like the ones outside.

Sergeant Scott whistled to draw their attention to the control room located at the back of the loading dock, which had its window shattered and two more dead Knights inside. "And they must have also hit these guys before they could sound an alert. Eleven down in less than a minute I bet."

"It would have to be that fast if they managed to overwhelm the rest of the base," Owen agreed, "Nobody was warned, nobody was expecting it, nobody knew the enemy was inside until it was too late." He turned to Rice and questioned the Knight, "How large a compliment would a bunker have?"

"Well, the standard compliment is a dozen soldiers, six Knights for technical and combat support, and then three Inquisitors to manage the systems and administrate the facility." Rice answered. "There are nine soldiers and two knights here, most of the personnel assigned to this base. And if Manifest filled all four those ARVs to maximum capacity we're looking at possibly twenty or more hostiles, plus the rear guard outside."

"That leaves ten other possible survivors who are outnumbered two to one." Owen announced. "If Manifest isn't already aware of us then they soon will be. Let's get moving."

They made their way to the back of the loading docks and found a security door that had been blown open by explosives. The majority of the lights in the hallways on the first level were dim and blinking or just dead, and they could find evidence of firefights in more than a few.

By the time they cleared the entire first level and moved to the stairwell (the elevator was disabled) they found their first Manifest corpse. It was identifiable despite the standard grey armour of a Paladin, mainly by the large E surrounded by a circle of stars painted on the chest, possibly to allow the attackers to tell the difference between friend and foe.

"They must have used the stairwell as a choke point," Parker rasped, "But fell back when these fascists started tossing grenades down at them. There's a reason that they say to never fight an uphill battle."

"Wright, stay here and cover our six." Owen said to the Private. "If anything comes up those stairs you call out a challenge phrase: Dogmeat. If you don't hear the words 'good boy' from whoever is coming up you blast the hell out of them." He handed the marine the plasma grenade that Campbell had tossed to him earlier. "Use this if you don't want to risk being caught in the open."

Private Wright nodded. "Right, gotcha sir." He seemed more relieved that he was not going to be forced to travel deeper into the creepy and abandoned Vault.

Xxx

Bunker Vault Nine

Level 3

For almost twenty minutes the group pressed on through the second level, finding the charred bodies of two more Manifest soldiers, a Brotherhood Paladin, two Knights and two of the Inquisitors. For a brief period Owen had feared that one of them was Victoria Grey, but a quick look confirmed that both Inquisitors were male-not that their deaths weren't tragic along with the others who had died up above.

After clearing the second level, which contained rows and rows of supply storage rooms with the idea of having enough supplies to last for years, the group pressed on to the third level, which was supposed to contain research labs and medical facilities.

Sergeant Scott led the way, using his helmet's optics to pierce the dim lighting and relying on the heavy plasma caster to clear away any opposition. Campbell remained at the back, covering their six while Owen, Sutton, Rice and Parker remained between the two marines.

"Wait." Scott stopped, as did the line behind him as he reached a hall with a sign marked as 'Atrium'. "Did you guys hear that?"

Owen tilted his head to one side and leaned forward a bit, listening carefully. He could hear the echo of words far down the corridor. He looked back at the others and signed an order to them to remain quiet and moved past Scott, taking light steps while remaining half crouched and pressed close to the wall until he reached a pair of sliding doors that had been melted open by a barrage of energy weapons.

"...just do away with her."

"No, you heard the General, we keep her and the rest alive as incentive until we know for sure."

"Oh come on, like the bitch would ever live long enough to know anyways!"

"You grossly underestimate her, a common mistake to apply to her lineage."

Owen glanced around the edge of the door and saw several armored forms occupying the top floor of an atrium that the door led to. Down below he could spot several more figures, and just further down the corridor was a stair case that must have led to that level.

"She shouldn't even be alive." One of the Manifest soldiers growled. "Her entire bloodline deserves to be purged!"

"And it shall be," A second and much calmer man answered as the two walked across the catwalk overlooking two more Manifest troopers...who were surrounding two people clad in the grey and blue armour of Brotherhood Knights, their helmets removed and their hands shackled behind them. "But first she must show the General to our prize, then we can be rid of her. Have patience, brother, we shall deliver justice to her."

"Will you both keep it down up there?" One of the Manifest troopers on the lower level called out. "This isn't time for your personal drama, we're supposed to be watching the prisoners."

"You're right," The second soldier nodded as he leaned over the railing, "We apologize, my brother is just...very eager."

"We all want to watch her choke on her own organs," The other trooper on the lower level replied, "You don't see us throwing a fit about it just because it isn't happening immediately."

Owen had a rising suspicion that they were referring to Inquisitor Grey, unless one of the two unaccounted for Paladins had suddenly raised the ire of these men to the point that they were eager for blood beyond the usual level.

"Hold on, I'm getting a call in from the General." The more reasonable of the two soldiers on the upper level held a hand to his helmet. "Yes sir? Yes, they're still secure. We're holding position as instructed." Silence followed. "Yes sir, I understand."

He lowered his hand and looked down at the two soldiers below. "Things have gone to hell down there. Execute the prisoners."

One of the Knights let out a strangled sob as he watched the two Manifest soldiers move around behind him and his companion. At this point Owen broke from cover and rushed forward, fuelled by either anger at the casual decision to execute two men in cold blood or the desperation to save them.

The more fanatical Manifest soldier heard his footsteps and turned just in time to be slammed back against the railing. He gripped the metal with one hand and tried to shove Owen away with the other, but the Captain had already moved to the side and fired his plasma pistol at the second soldier. The first soldier moved to attack him, only to notice that one of the grenades fixed to his belt had been primed just before it went off, consuming the man in a flash of green light as his body was reduced to a pile of ooze. The second soldier scrambled back, his armour barely protecting him from the barrage while the third and fourth down below were distracted from their execution.

"What the-"

"Engage! Engage!"

But by this point Owen's companions had followed him into the room. Sergeant Scott fired his plasma caster at the soldier retreating across the catwalk, a large globule of plasma slamming into the man, overwhelming his barriers and burning through his armour as he howled in agony and toppled over the side of the catwalk. Rice and Sutton rushed to the edge of the balcony occupying one side of the upper floor and fired down at the other two soldiers, who scrambled for cover while the Knights got up and rushed for the stairwell door.

"Stop them!" One of the Manifest soldiers shouted to his companion, who fired a burst after the fleeing Knights and struck one of them in the back, sending him to the floor.

"FASCIST MOTHER FUCKERS!" An enraged shout escaped from Campbell as he vaulted over the railing and landed on the shooter's shoulders. The Manifest trooper was able to stay up thanks to his power armour augmenting his physical abilities, but he hadn't any time to formulate a counter to Campbell's assault before the marine jammed a combat knife down beneath the rim of the soldier's helmet and through the material of the hard suit beneath.

"You like shooting men in the back?!" Campbell seethed as the man lost balance and toppled to the floor, blood leaking from the stab wound in his throat. "Can't even give them the decency to look them in the eye?!"

"Campbell! Look out!" Owen shouted as the final Manifest soldier fired his plasma rifle and shot the marine in the chest, causing his armour to glow bright red around the point of impact and forcing the man to stumble back from the force of the impact. Luckily all of the Alliance soldiers still occupying the upper level were able to mow the man down, overwhelming his barriers and melting his armour to his skin as he fell to the floor without a sound.

Campbell gave a pained grunt as he lay sprawled on his back, winded but otherwise unharmed as he popped his armour's chest plating off. "Damn it." He muttered.

"What the hell kind of kamikaze stunt was that?" Owen demanded before he leapt down to the same level as Campbell. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Campbell opened his mouth to give a retort, only to clamp it shut and exhaled through his nose. "...he shot that man in the back," He muttered, looking to the corpse of the Knight who had been killed while trying to escape. "He didn't have to, there was no reason to, the guy was still cuffed...but he did it anyways."

Owen hauled Campbell to his feet. "Campbell," He tried to get the man's attention. "Campbell!"

The younger man looked at Owen.

"I get it," Owen said clearly. "I know how you feel. That man didn't deserve to die, and these pigs didn't have any reason to kill him or anyone else here beyond wanting to do it just because they don't get to live their little perfect fantasy of ruling the whole fucking world. It is wrong, it is disgusting, but we can't let it drive us to do stupid shit when we see it in action. You are better than them, we are better than them, and do you know why?"

Owen relinquished his grip on Campbell's arms. "Because at the end of the day they are frightened, hateful little vermin who are not worth dying over. Now, you managed to avenge that one man, but if you died for that one little act of revenge you would be dishonoring his memory. So you keep living boy, and don't do anymore stupid shit like what I just saw a minute ago that could get you killed long before you get to be old and wrinkly as me."

He slapped Campbell on the shoulder. "You got that, soldier?"

Campbell nodded. "Yes...yes sir." He bowed his head in shame as the other Knight peeked his head into the room, seeing that the battle was over.

"Tha...thank you." The surviving knight was a dark haired woman. "I thought that I was really going to die." She looked down at her companion's body even as Owen stepped around behind her and unlocked her cuffs. "But they got Wells...damn it, he didn't deserve this."

"Few people rarely do." Owen replied sympathetically. "But I can count a little over a dozen people in this vault who are truly deserving of such a sudden and unexpected end to their otherwise wasted lives. Do you know where the rest of Manifest platoon is?"

The Knight nodded. "Yeah, they said that they were going down below to level 5. They took Inquisitor Grey with them along with Paladins Santos and Grawk."

"...Grawk?" Campbell repeated the name.

"He's a Night Kin," The Knight explained, "Smarter than he used to be, but he kept his 'mutant name'."

Now Owen knew where the other three remaining survivors were likely to be located, but his thoughts raced back to the mention of 'things going south' where a Manifest General was apparently located. It could be that the Manifest soldiers had caused an accident down below, or perhaps Grey and her companions had somehow broken free of their captors, triggering the sudden decision to execute the two Knights.

"We need to get down there," Owen said as the rest of the team regrouped around them, and faced the rescued Knight. "Ma'am, we can't ask you to come with us after what you've been through. If you head back up to the first level you'll find our rear guard up there." He picked up a fallen plasma rifle and deposited it in her hands. "When he calls out the phrase 'Dog Meat', reply with 'Good boy' or he will open fire on you."

The Knight nodded, "Right, right!" She replied, "Alright, I can do that. First level. Dog Meat. Good boy." She recited. "Thank you so much, I can't say how much I owe you all for this."

As the Knight rushed back up the stairs Owen walked back over to the soldier who still had a knife sticking out of his throat. He crouched down and gripped the handle, tugging the weapon free. Owen turned and called out, "Hey Campbell, catch."

Campbell turned and caught the knife by the handle, making the act seem effortless and perfectly safe. He proceeded to wipe the blade clean of blood before sliding it back into its thigh mounted sheathe before looking back to Owen, giving the man a nod of appreciation. "Thanks, Cap."

"We have a specific destination now," Owen announced to the group. "Level Five, that's where we'll find the rest of the Manifest task force and the surviving Brotherhood personnel. Let's not waste time, find the stair well and let's get moving!"

Xxx

Bunker Vault 9

Level 5

Dozens of feet below where the Alliance team had just massacred several of his men, General Ian Mycroft stood in a control room overlooking a wide and nearly empty chamber below.

Mycroft had put himself through countless surgeries, hours of replacing or enhancing parts of his body down to the genetic level until over fifty percent of his body mass had been replaced by synthetic components. Nobody could tell at first glance, mainly due to the armour he wore to cover everything below the neck, but when one looked at his eyes and saw the glow they had, the eerie otherworldly aura he generated, it was easy to tell that the man was barely human anymore.

"General, sir," A Manifest trooper saluted after stepping into the room, "More news from the surface. The alien army has landed and is in position to move on New Taiyuan."

Ian chuckled humorlessly, "Of course it has. This is more proof of the incompetence and weakness that plagues the Alliance, and proof of the necessity behind our work here today, soldier." He beckoned for the man to walk over to the glass window separating them from the room outside. "Tell me, what limits would you be willing to go to in order to ensure that your grand children could be raised in a stable, safe environment free of the threats of mutants, of being mutated themselves or being invaded as this world is now?"

"Sir," The trooper stood at attention once again after relocating to Mycroft's side, "No price is too small to pay for the guaranteed future of the true human race. All necessary evils are a step towards our goal, and once it has been achieved history shall vindicate our actions, sir!"

Mycroft knew that the man had definitely been raised from birth among Manifest, otherwise he would not speak with such...conviction of the utter bull shit he had just spewed. Mycroft had ensured that those born into the ranks of his organization would be zealously loyal to the cause to a fault. It wouldn't do for them to start having thoughts contrary to the established norms of Manifest, as such things le to doubt and then to defiance and dissent. That could not be tolerated, and if it meant that a few thousand had to be turned into puppets with little sense of their own identity like the man standing next to him then Mycroft would gladly pay the price.

"Quite true," Mycroft nodded, smiling in a grandfatherly way as he patted the man on the shoulder, "That is why we are here, and why we are needed." He looked down at the object occupying the centre of the room, surrounded by several Manifest soldiers holding scanning equipment. "And that is why we shall make use of any resources available to see that dream become a reality."

The object was propped up on three legs that met at a disc shaped base. From this base rose a spire made of a rock like substance that glowed so brightly it was almost like a diamond reflecting light. Two more lengths of the substance reached up, twisting in a spiral pattern to meet atop the central spire of the device. The entire device radiated energy, and none dared to touch it for fear of what it might do.

All that they knew was what Mycroft needed them to know: this relic was alien in origin, and it would help to bring about mankind's ascension from some backwater species in a little corner of the galaxy to ruling over the very creatures who dared to set foot on human claimed soil.

And leading the charge would be Manifest, restoring the true human race and forming a great nation united under a single banner.

Of course Mycroft would not trust anyone else to fulfill his vision or lead that nation, but mortality proved to be such a pesky nuisance to the ambitious, hence the need for his many augmentations. But what this device...this monolith had to offer would put to shame any advancement or adaptation conducted by his race in its entire history, supposing that the Prothean Archives were accurate. (3)

"Prepare to relocate the monolith," Mycroft ordered, "...we have unwelcome guests looking to spoil our party. If you cannot locate the Inquisitor and her men, set off the charges and bury this place once we leave."

Xxx

CODEX OPENED

Accessing files...

File opened: VERTIBIRD

Mk.I Vertibird: the model utilized by the Pre-War American government. Suitable for long distance atmospheric travel, retired after development of series.

Vertibird: a model that was created with reverse engineered technology from both the Prothean cache and Prolat technology that could be incorporated into the design. Utilizes antigravity thrusters, capable of switching between VTOL mode and accelerating for atmospheric or orbital travel. Primarily used to deploy troops from ships for ground invasions.

Vertibird: Updated version of the MkII, capable of short range travel between planets via Prothean based propulsion. First tested for travel between Earth and Mars, which lasted six hours. Primarily used by the Brotherhood of Steel and Special Forces for stealth approaches to target destinations.

File closed

Accessing files...

File opened: Manifest

Manifest is perhaps the sole surviving descendant of the Enclave and by extension the Pre-War American Government. It was formed from members of what is now known as New America back during the formation of the Alliance when President William Irons refused to pursue aggressive actions against the factions ruling what used to be the United States. These individuals were led by General Kenneth Mycroft, whose battalion had remained loyal to him and scattered into the northern frontiers of Canada among many safe houses and outposts, which remained hidden thanks to Intelligence agents choosing to side with Manifest. Ever since then the group has attempted to undermine the Alliance, with the state goals of eradicating all Ghouls, Meta Humans and Death Claws so that the 'true humanity' may reclaim Earth and take its rightful place in the cosmos. While lacking in resources, Manifest has been able to hijack Alliance shipments and sometimes entire warships in order to keep itself afloat, and maintains a sizable military force capable of contending with even the elite forces of any of the factions composing the Alliance.

Xxx

REFERENCE LIST

(1) Reference to Ash Williams, protagonist of Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead series.

(2) A provincial level special administrative region in China, one of two besides Hong Kong.

(3) For anybody who has read Mass Effect: Revolution (hint: I have not), I am referencing the plot of Desolas Arterius to use the Arca Monolith to convert the Turian race into a species of 'Meta Turians'. I have adapted this for my use and make no claim to it being an original idea of my own making, it simply wouldn't have fit with what I have in mind for this story with how it was in the canon storyline.