Sol System, Lunar Base

April 15, 2089

Neph look out through the window at the Lunar spaceport at the ship she was to be taking to the Citadel. It was small, barely one hundred meters in length, but it was apparently state-of-the-art by human standards. It was apparently a type of ship called an "Interceptor" designed to be a sort of stunted frigate. They had a frigate-sized drive core, but were a fraction of the size of a real frigate. As such, they were faster and more maneuverable than a frigate, and their economical size and personnel cost had allowed humanity to build a much larger number of hulls than their fledging interstellar civilization would otherwise be able to support. This specific ship was apparently of a new top-of-the-line class of interceptors, with an even bigger drive core that would make it the fastest ship in human space, and give it kinetic barriers whose strength would rival those of warships three times its size.

All of the waste heat generated by these systems had to go somewhere, and that's where the ship's unique design really shined. It was a radical departure from typical human warship design, as it was flat and aerodynamic, rather than the blunted spindle shape that human warships usually had. Older interceptors were also more aerodynamic and rated for atmospheric flight, but this new model wasn't just rated for it, it was optimized for it. The most striking example of this was the radiators, which were designed to also act as wings in an atmosphere. Neph didn't know how the humans had made radiators sturdy enough for that purpose, but they had been using radiators for far longer than all of the other races had in their history, as most species quickly discovered the heat-venting technology that was so ubiquitous in Council space. Humanity had had more time and much more effort put into developing radiator technology than other races. So, ironically, it was possible they had more advanced radiator technology than everyone else. Not that it counts for much. It's like having the most advanced fossil-fuel power plant when fusion has already been discovered. Still, it proved useful in this instance.

"She's not as tough as we usually build them, but she'll get us there in one piece." a voice came from behind Neph. It was Tim, now Major Tim. "She's a lot sturdier than she looks. We might not have all of the cool toys you guys have, but we build them to last." Neph nodded politely. She'd reserve her judgement for when she was standing on the Citadel, alive. She still wasn't sure why the humans wanted to bring her with on their diplomatic mission. They'd said they'd wanted her as a witness, and had persisted despite her insistence that, as a quarian, her word wasn't good for much anyway. So, she, Talerra, and Usit were all to be ferried to the Citadel to present their story and, hopefully, help the humans to make a good first impression. The humans had promised to repatriate the other salarians once diplomatic contact with the Salarian Union was established, but none of the salarians had seemed especially eager to go back into the loving arms of the very government they had tried to get away from.

Neph was happy to help the people who had rescued her from a fate quite possibly worse than death, even if she didn't think she would be of much help. "I never got to say it properly Tim, but thank you for saving me and the others from the batarians. I know it was kind of by accident, but thank you nonetheless."

Tim smiled at her. "Not a problem. Thank you for agreeing to come on this mission. Even if what you say is true and you'll be of little help in the diplomacy, if you're half as good as your people's reputation than I'm sure you'll be an excellent source of knowledge for Lieutenant Fahri to tap into." The Lieutenant in question, Ozan Fahri, was a short, olive-skinned man of calm demeanor who gave her a small smile at Tim's words. He was to be the Chief Engineer of their small ship, and was quite eager to pick Neph's brain for engineering knowledge.

A woman's voice interjected at that. "I'd raise an objection at non-UN personnel getting a peak at the drive core of the most advanced class of ship in the fleet, but if what they say about our tech-gap is true she's probably seen better on a garbage scow." The woman, First Lieutenant Lisa Smith, the soon-to-be first officer of the ship gave a mocking sniff. "I'll just have to bear it." she said, before glancing at Neph and closing one of her eyes, a motion that Neph had discovered apparently meant that there was some kind of joke, and the person being "winked" at was now in on it.

"She might be old hat to the fancy folk on the Citadel, but the Samar and the others of its class are the finest ships to ever roll off a human assembly line. I'd rather fight in her than in one of those batarian buckets you fought, Major." This voice belonged to Master Chief Astronaut Amancio Paulo. He was the shortest among the three men in the group, roughly the same height as Smith, but he was built like a brick. What could be seen of his dark black skin looked almost like it was struggling to wrap itself around his bulk. He had a shaved head and the weather-beaten face of a hardened veteran, exactly what one might imagine the senior NCO of an elite warship to look like. He had been leader of a ranger team for the Atlanta, one of the Samar's older sisters in the class. He had been promoted and transferred to the Samar only recently, having not taken part in the trial run that Tim and the new crew had hastily conducted only a few days before.

"I think I agree with you Chief, especially since our ship is filled to the brim with rangers." Tim said. It was true. Every single member of the crew was a ranger, by order of the Secretary General. Rangers were a precious commodity, and under normal circumstances such excess wouldn't have been allowed. Fortunately for the military planners, the Samar needed only about forty-five crew. The small crew requirement of interceptors was what made the concept so appealing to the eternally personnel-hungry Space Force.

A question that Neph had wanted to ask but never had an appropriate moment for came to mind. "Saw...mar? I've heard you say it's name before, but it doesn't translate. What is it?"

Tim answered the question. "It doesn't translate because its a proper noun, the name of an island in the Philippines archipelago on Earth."

"So the ship is named after the island?" Neph asked.

"It's not. It's named after the 'Battle off Samar', a naval battle that took place near the island during our Second World War. A small Allied force of light escort ships was surprised by a vastly superior Axis force. They decided that their only option was to counter charge, and they managed to beat the odds and force the Axis fleet to retreat."

Neph nodded her understanding. She was vaguely acquainted with the Second World War. She'd spent her free time perusing through awkwardly translated articles about human history and culture, and WW2 was a very hard-to-miss part of that.

Smith was raising her eyebrows. "I can't help but notice the metaphorical implications of that battle on our current situation. Do you think command choosing this particular ship was intentional?"

Fahri chuckled. "Could be. Plenty of history nerds among the pencil pushers."

Neph snorted as well. "Well, I think it's a good name, and I'll be proud to have it ferry me."

"And we're proud to have you." Tim said.


Tim was notified that the crew was aboard and all of the supplies for the trip were loaded, so the group set off to gather Usit and Talerra, and then made their way to the ship's airlock. The first thing that stuck out to Neph was that the ship was horizontally oriented, unlike the vertically oriented Yuri Gagarin. It was the sensible choice for a ship designed to fly within the atmosphere of planets. The second thing that stuck out to Neph was the lack of space. It was a small ship, and wasting space was anathema to the Space Force. An extra half-meter of ceiling space would have wasted dozens of cubic meters on worthless head room. The ceiling was just high enough to accommodate the tallest of humans, but no more.

The ship had only three decks. In the middle, running the length of the ship, there was the main deck, on which Neph currently stood. It contained the CIC, bridge, engine room, computer core, and brig. The main gun was a spinal mount, running the length of the entire deck, and it could be accessed for maintenance and repair by pulling out the floorboards of the deck. Below the main deck was the cargo hold, which doubled as an armory and held a loading ramp that could be used for bringing troops in and out of combat. The top floor held the mess, crew quarters, infirmary, and CO's office. All of these decks were meant to be traversed by a central ladder, as that was the most space-efficient method. The ship's generous missile compliment was stored in a silo on the bottom of the ship, although from what Neph had heard from her conversations with the human officers the missiles were not equipped with Mass Effect drives. She had no idea what the humans hoped to accomplish with missiles that would be easily run out of fuel by any ship with a mass effect drive.

Tim turned to the three aliens when they'd made their way into the CIC. "We've thrown together some guest quarters for you in the cargo hold. Not exactly elegant, but it beats squeezing into the crew bunks. I can have one of my rangers show you the way, if you don't have any questions."

Talerra looked at Neph and Usit, who shook their heads. "I don't believe so, captain."

Tim smiled. "It's just Tim, you're not in the Space Force...and I'm not in the Navy, so if you still feel the need to address me by rank, it's "Major". He had what Neph guessed was a mock serious expression on his face as he said that. Tim continued. "We're going to be travelling for several days to get to where we picked you up, and from there we're flying blind to this primary relay on your star chart that will take us into your Council's space. It's probably going to take a while from there. So...get comfortable, I suppose."

Neph followed one of Tim's rangers. She was no stranger to lengthy periods spent on a starship, but those usually weren't as...cramped. Steeling herself for what was likely going to be an unpleasant ride, she made her way to her new quarters.


Major Tim Li was equal parts ecstatic and nervous, though he hid it well. He was commanding a ship-his ship-on a critically important mission for the UN. This was a huge responsibility, one that he still wasn't confident he was ready for, but...every officer in the Space Force dreamed of the day they were in the big chair. Tim had thought he was still very far away from commanding any ship at all, never mind one of the most advanced ships in humanity's arsenal-and with an all ranger crew to boot. He had no idea why he of all people was selected for this honor and responsibility, but he would do his best to live up to it.

"Sir, the team from the Ministry of State is boarding." one of Tim's astronauts called out to him.

"Understood, I'm going out to meet them." Tim turned to Lisa, "Lieutenant?" The woman nodded, and the pair headed to greet the arriving dignitaries.

The pair arrived at the airlock, and from it emerged a trio of well-dressed individuals, two women and one man. The elder of the two women, a short dark-skinned woman, approached first and extended her hand.

"Major Li, I'm grateful to you and your crew for providing us passage. I'm Jessica Okoro, and these are my two associates, Henry Calloway and Saito Misumi."

Tim nodded. "Welcome aboard ladies. Sir." he said, turning to the women and then the man as he spoke. The trio nodded in response. Jessica spoke again. "Could we please meet privately with you and your executive officer in your office, Major? We have much to discuss."

Tim and Lisa led the trio into Tim's office (which, truth be told, had more in common with a broom closet than an office) and turned to face the trio as the hatch closed behind them.

Jessica cleared her throat. "I'll skip straight to the point: I have some concerns about this mission. Concerns you should be aware of."

Tim's face remained expressionless. "Go on."

"We are seriously lacking in information about our alien hosts. We've interviewed all of the aliens we rescued from the Batarians, but they haven't been as informative as we'd hoped. They're mostly just working class people from a brand new colony on the fringe of galactic civilization, so they're not exactly well versed in Council Politics or diplomacy. The few educated people among them were mostly scientists and engineers, not politicians or lawyers, so they could only give us a layman's understanding of things. What all of this means is that our understanding of the political situation in Council Space comes from amateurs, and we'll have to guess when it comes to matters of protocol."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly ideal, but you have to admit it's a damned sight better than going in completely blind, which is what would have happened if we didn't have the information from our alien guests."

Jessica looked surprised. "Oh! I wasn't implying anything or throwing blame at anyone. I was simply pointing out our less-than-ideal amount of intel for this mission. It is obviously preferable to going in blind, but, well...I'm so short handed! Three diplomats, when a mission like this would normally call for dozens!"

Tim spoke again. "I can imagine the difficulties that will cause, but this is the hand we've been dealt. If you're not aware, several of our pickets have spotted what are presumed to be scout ships in the unexplored space outside of our territory. We don't have hard evidence, but there's a good chance they're batarian ships, and an equally good chance they'll be on the hunt. A single small ship like the Samar can move with a lower profilethan a diplomatic convoy, which is the goal since we're trying to contact the council without the batarians figuring out what we're doing and using their influence to mess things up for us in advance. Don't worry, we've got the speed to outrun any batarian that comes looking for a meal. The Samar will get you there safe.

Jessica rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I understand the necessity, Major, and I don't doubt the skill of your crew or the quality of your ship. I'm just...trying to let you know of how precarious our mission is. There's a very real possibility something in the diplomatic process could go wrong in a way we can't anticipate, because we just don't know how to prepare to treat with beings who have an alien mind and alien sensibilities. I just ask that you keep that in mind if and when we encounter a council ship."

"Of course. And, if lack of intel is still a concern, you and your teams' quarters are right next to our three alien guests, so you can try and glean some more intel from them."


Several Days Later

Henry Calloway's eyes shined as he pressed on in his questioning. "They really breathe ammonia? That sounds inconvenient."

Neph smiled under her helmet. "It works out better than you'd think. No one else can live comfortably in their native environment, so they've got every ammonia-based garden world all to themselves." While all three of the human diplomats had been easy to get along with, Henry was the most friendly and outgoing.

Henry looked thoughtful. "Y'know, Turians have their high-radiation world, Hanar have their aquatic biology, Elcor have their high-gravity physiology, volus breathe ammonia, asari are all space wizards,"-Talerra gave an amused chuckle at that-"salarians think a mile a minute, Quarians have their unusual immune systems, and krogan are...krogan...Looking at all this, it makes us humans seem rather...mundane."

"Every species thinks they're mundane compared to aliens. To you, asari are "space wizards", but to me, it's completely normal." Talerra said.

Henry scratched the back of his head. "Well...what's unusual about humans, from an alien's perspective?"

Usit spoke up then, "Physically, there are a few peculiarities. Fairly middling in terms of raw physical strength and agility, but physical endurance is quite exceptional. Probably wouldn't beat a Quarian in footrace, would win in marathon, however. Concept of "marathon" and "cross country running" uniquely human. Krogan have some similar activities, though. More violence, of course."

Neph chimed in. "Yes, now that you mention it, some of the tales I've heard in my reading material have been quite hard to believe. Stories of people being injured out in the wilderness and crawling on their bellies for kilometers to safety, or stories of soldiers fighting for months on barely any rations and even less sleep."

Talerra spoke next. "Speaking of soldiers, I noticed that yours seem to be quite excellent shots. Easily as good as the turians. I'd say they still have you beat in terms of raw eyesight, but you might beat them out in hand-eye coordination.

Henry spoke up at that. "Well, that might not be a fair comparison. Our Rangers are the best of the best, not your average human soldiers. Our rank and file probably don't have a significantly better aim than other alien soldiers."

Talerra shrugged. "Maybe so, but I was nevertheless impressed."

Henry looked at Neph and smiled. "So. How's a quarian's aim?"

Neph snorted. "Not very good. We're always wearing our helmets, so all of us learn how to shoot with targeting software. I bet even our best soldiers would still be mediocre at best if they were somehow able to try shooting with their naked eye."

Henry's interest was piqued. "Do your people really remove their helmets so infrequently?"

Neph nodded. "Pretty much. We can only remove our suits safely in a specially sterilized environment-'clean rooms', we call them-and even then our time has to be limited. There's really only enough space on board a ship to have one clean room, so the time is rationed out among the crew and families. You've got to prepare yourself for days in advance with medications, and you only get a handful of hours, so you've got to ration your time wisely. Time spent doing something unimportant-like, say, setting up a shooting gallery so you can have a better aim with your naked eye-is time not spent doing the things you can really only do in a clean room, like taking a nice long shower, or trimming you nails and hair, or...um...'intimacy'."

Henry chuckled and leaned back, placing interlocked fingers behind his head. "I'm surprised no one's taking advantage of so many luxury-craving potential customers. Maybe I'll invest in a quarian spa once we've sorted out this diplomacy business."

Neph "Oh no, no one would ever welcome us in large enough numbers for this...spah?...to stay in business. Every once in a while a few of our scout or trade ships will be allowed to dock somewhere long enough for the the crew to have..."shore leave", I suppose you could call it, but that's about as much of the world outside the fleet the average quarian will see after their pilgrimage. We don't exactly get payed anyway, so it's not like we'd have money to spend."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Uh...I was just kidding, but I'll let my stockbroker know your opinion." He laughed again. "Anyways, yeah, I'd imagine getting paid would kind of lose its luster when there's nothing to buy thanks to the whole 'strictly rationing every resource so we don't die' thing. Still, I'm willing to bet there will be quite a few quarians rolling in the dough in the not-too-distant future."

Neph did her best to look incredulous. "Why?"

"Think about it! What's humanity? An entire civilization that is noticeably behind the rest of the galaxy's technology, a civilization where every organization, private and public, is going to be desperately searching for alien experts to modernize their tech. What are the quarians? An entire civilization of unemployed alien experts...who regularly send out the quarian equivalent of university graduates to look for employment. It's a match made in heaven. Sure, the other races will probably send their fancy doctorate-equivalents out to solicit the new kids on the block, but the government will probably poach all of them before anyone else can. Who's left over? Our mask-wearing friends. I'm telling you, all of the corporations and companies in Human Space are going to be tripping over each other to hire quarian engineers and scientists, because the biggest rat-race in human history is about to start as all of our corporations fight to get ahead of the game-and each other-with all of the alien tech that's going to come pouring in soon. The demand will be astronomical, so the pay will be too. Sure, the other species will catch on to the opportunity eventually, but can they really compete with a species who is made up almost entirely of experienced engineers, scientists, and mechanics? I don't think so." Henry gave an amused smirk.

Every alien in the room had their eyes fixed on Henry, and he suddenly looked very sheepish. "What?"

Usit and Talerra looked at each other, and then back to Henry. Talerra spoke. "Uh...nothing. That was just a bit of an...unexpected outburst."

"Just thinking out loud. I actually studied economics and geopolitics in university, so this sort of thing is right up my alley. I meant what I said though, really. If you want my advice? Stick around with us humans once we've made our introductions. You're all educated, and you'll have money coming out of your ears if you work with our government or one of our corporations in teaching our doctors and engineers and...", he glanced at Talerra, "botanists, right?" Talerra smiled and nodded. "More or less."

Henry winked. "Right. Anyways, you'll be some very wealthy people if you stick around to teach our smart guys how to use the fancy alien tech you use in your respective fields. "

Usit had a blank expression. "Use of incomprehensible alien idioms...excessive...but understand point. Will consider."

Talerra smiled again. "If there's one thing my people have, it's spare time. Spending a decade or two working with the weird new aliens could be fun, and I'd love to see all of the plants your home world has to offer. I will also think about it."

Henry smiled, then looked to the last alien. "What about you Neph? I'd bet you could blow all the other pilgrims your age out of the water with the pilgrimage gifts you could bring back."

Neph looked up, then distractedly said. "Huh? Right, right." Before looking down at the floor again. The other three occupants of the room exchanged a glance, but Neph was too tied up in her own thoughts to notice.

In truth, she had already decided on her pilgrimage gift. It would be knowledge. She would return home, and tell tale of the incredible opportunity that awaited her people. For the first time in a very long time, there was someone that wanted the quarians.


Hello again! This chapter was quite painful to write. Finding the right direction to go from the last chapter was very challenging. The good news is that I think I've got a rhythm of sorts that I can follow for this story now. You see, I finally got frustrated enough to sit down and start writing out a proper plan for the direction of the story, and that really helped break open the dam of writer's block.

So, I'm going to try and get a chapter out at least once per month from here on out, although that isn't going to be a hard and fast rule, more just a goal to strive for. There's also a very real possibility that I will update more frequently than that sometimes, on the occasions where I get an excess of writing energy. I'm going to spend more time plotting things out now, so hopefully I can get a more cohesive direction for the plot and thus have an easier time writing installments.

As always, I hope you enjoyed, and thank you very much for reading and to all who leave a review!