The camera pans over the audience and onto the host, Nessiyett, and her special guest.
Nessiyett: "Welcome back to Cyone in the Evening! If you're just joining us, tonight we've had the distinct pleasure of speaking with Matriarch Teleni A'Senn, former commander of the Asari contingent of the Citadel defense fleet, and accomplished author. Her latest book 'The Navy: A Necessary Evil' can be downloaded from all major sellers. Now, Matriarch, you've given us an Admiral's view of the many rapidly-evolving political and strategic situations happening throughout the galaxy, but we've arguably left the one that started it all out until now: The Human-Batarian Relay Dispute. Can you share your thoughts?"
Teleni: "Well for starters, the name could use a little work."
(Laughter)
Teleni: "I'm only half joking. The Council's official name is wrong on almost every point. First of all, 'human-batarian' is an inaccurate summary of the combatants. For one, the humans have, as anyone who watches the news knows, been joined by the Elcor, as well as at least two colonial territories near the Citadel-human border. So, the 'human' part is no longer accurate. If we're going by population and military size, they're not even the primary combatant on their own side anymore, the elcor are. On the other side of the hyphen, 'batarian' is a very nebulous term to use for such a fractured people. Eleven percent of batarians don't even live in Hegemony space, so over a tenth of the people that make up the 'batarian' part of that term aren't even participating in the war. In addition, batarians have fought on both sides of this war, if the human footage from their 'Spartacus' operation is to be believed. So batarians belong on both sides of the hyphen, if we're being 100% accurate."
Nessiyett: "So, perhaps the 'elcor and friends-hegemony' war?"
Teleni: (Laughs) It would at least be more accurate, but I don't think pushing the humans out of the spotlight would be right. They've done far too much with far too little to deserve that. Which is why calling it a 'relay dispute' is so ridiculously out of touch that only the Council could dream it up. This conflict has already had the largest fleet battle in a thousand years, and we call it a 'dispute'? Perhaps when the Hegemony offensive begins, we might be able to upgrade it to a 'tussle'."
Nessiyett: (Laughs) "Maybe even a 'scrap', if we're feeling generous! But, speaking of the Hegemony offensive, what are your thoughts on it? Does the mainstream opinion hold water?"
Teleni: Well, I suppose it depends on how we're defining 'mainstream', as I've found that perceptions of this war have more to do with one's politics than with reality. For some, the humans are miracle workers who will use their newfound allies to bring another 'impossible' victory. For others, the Hegemony navy wil squash them with their obviously superior numbers. The truth is, naturally, much more complicated."
Nessiyett: "Isn't it always? Do you think the humans - and elcor, now - have a chance?"
Teleni: "To that I must say the same thing I told interviewers before the first battle: 'Against an enemy as poorly-led as the Hegemony, there's always a chance.'"
Nessiyett: "Do you really consider the Hegemony leadership to be that incompetent?"
Teleni: "Forgive me for answering a question with a question, but do you really think they'd be doing this if they weren't? And I'm not talking about their defeat in the pitched battle against the humans. That was less incompetence and more just the humans exploiting the surprise of their secret weapons system for a victory of great political importance and minimal strategic impact. What I am referring to is the war itself. Tell me, what, exactly, do the batarians gain if they achieve a complete victory in this war? If they conquer the humans completely and force the elcor into concessions? Let's make a list: One well-developed but hostile star system, a half dozen very minor colonies, hundreds of outposts and frontier settlements, a very angry new coreward neighbor, and vast, barely explored and completely undeveloped swaths of new territory between them and their new subjects. And a likely heavily-depleted navy with which to defend it all."
Nessiyett: (Laughs) "Well, when you put it that way... In all seriousness though, they'd still be doubling their territory. In the long run, they'll be in a stronger position. And, frankly, even if it's a foolish idea, that doesn't remove the danger."
Teleni: "Of course, I don't mean to discount the threat. For the humans, I doubt it's particularly comforting to know that the subjugation of their entire race will result in underwhelming economic dividends. And the poor state of their hypothetical future economy will not make the batarians suddenly forget how to shoot straight. Don't mistake me: The Hegemony is a dire threat against the humans and their allies, for their numbers alone if nothing else."
Nessiyett: "Regarding numbers, the latest estimates put the massed batarian invasion fleet at twenty thousand ships. Many have called it overkill, do you agree?"
Teleni: "It's a rare day indeed, because I have to agree with the Hegemony leadership on something. The best thing they can do now is utilize their superior numbers to its greatest possible effect. Frankly, if they'd been using this kind of thinking in their first invasion attempt, we'd be having a conversation now about the batarian invasion of Earth. The human tactics were bold and their discipline and coordination were admirable, but could their plan have worked against four thousand ships instead of three thousand? Five thousand? Six thousand? It was within the Hegemony's power to field this many ships, but they chose to conserve their resources. And, as the battle demonstrated, 'overkill' is vastly preferable to 'underkill'."
Nessiyett: "What do you say to the claims of logistical dilemmas that the Hegemony fleet will face? Even if their supply lines are well organized, they're still at risk to being cut by the humans."
Teleni: "This is expeditionary warfare, there won't be supply lines of any significance. Sure, the Hegemony posts the nice, big, round propaganda number of 'twenty thousand ships', and the sensationalist elements of the media eat it up. The reality is that at least three thousand of those ships are almost certainly logistics ships of one kind or another. Those ships will be used to haul the necessary supplies needed to travel from their staging area, to Earth, and then back again. With enough surplus to fight a battle along the way. The humans and their allies will have no choice but to make a stand, somewhere. The youth of the humans' civilization means that Earth is their only world of any real significance. They can't afford to allow it to be put under threat. If the Hegemony manages to besiege Earth and begin probing its defenses for an invasion, there will be supply lines to be cut. But if the humans and their allies have reached that point then the war is already a forgone conclusion."
Nessiyett: "So, you believe that the human alliance will be forced to give battle to the batarians at some point. Against a force numbering up to seventeen thousand combat ships, if the ratio you gave is right. Those are awful long odds for a force numbering...what, four thousand? Five?"
Teleni: "Records are spotty and reporting on the war tends to contradict itself. If we do some educated guessing on it, we can get a decent figure. Between the losses they've taken so far, the ships they've built since the war's start, and any reactivated mothballed vessels, lets give the humans an even thousand. The elcor have, on paper, a five thousand ship navy, but at least two thousand of those are in what their military calls 'stasis' - not truly mothballed or decommissioned, but not actually active either - which they have activated and begun crewing with their reserves as is their doctrine. However, those can effectively be discounted for the coming battle due to its brief timetable, though they will be a factor in any future campaigns. The remaining three thousand can be split between the two thousand ships of their historic 'Dekunna' and 'Oltan' fleets, which were the first ships sent to aid the humans, and the countless patrol, escort, and second-line ships that make up the rest of their navy, which are no doubt being mobilized as we speak."
Nessiyett: "So, roughly four thousand ships from the core members of this makeshift alliance. What about the others? Tellagia colony, and the turian cluster...Maenus, that's the name."
Teleni: The Primarch of Maenus publicly committed nine hundred ships. Tellagia didn't give a public number, but it's likely not particularly substantial. Let's combine Tellagia's forces and the various other donations, volunteers, purchases, things of that nature, together. Let's call that...five hundred. So, that's fifty four hundred combat ships of highly variable quality and firepower, give or take a hundred ships or so.
Nessiyett: "That's worse than three to one odds."
Teleni: "In terms of sheer numbers, yes. In terms of tonnage and firepower, it's likely even worse."
Nessiyet: "And yet, you don't sound certain of batarian victory."
Teleni: "Well, with the Hegemony in charge, failure is always an option. But, in truth, I think the humans have one last source of ships they can hope for."
Nessiyet: "The quarians, I'm assuming. Do you think they will intervene directly? They seem to be content with a trading relationship thus far."
Teleni: "I had the rare privilege of a lengthy interaction with some retired quarian military leadership at a convention many years ago. I learned a great deal about their modern philosophy of war from that acquaintance. While it may seem that quarian intervention would be a guaranteed victory from numbers alone, reality is much less clear cut. While the claim that the quarians have the 'largest fleet in the galaxy' is factually accurate, it paints a false picture of the military prowess of their race. If the turians purchased one hundred thousand tramp freighters, slapped a gun turret on them, and called them 'light frigates', then they'd then technically have the 'largest fleet in the galaxy'."
Nessiyett: "Still, fifty thousand ships is nothing to sneeze at."
Teleni: "Certainly not, but it must be clear that those ships can be divided in forty thousand armed civilian ships of astonishing variety, and ten thousand elderly warships with various degrees of combat readiness - figures that are well documented from open source intelligence. I happen to know that the very best of those warships are organized into a high-readiness dedicated military fleet, while the rest are reserves and spend most of their time serving as homes within the civilian fleet, like every quarian ship. In other words, while every ship is ready to defend itself, only a select few are ready to truly fight, if you catch my meaning."
Nessiyett: "So, the issue isn't so much the ships themselves but how many can actually be brought to bear in the short timetable?"
Teleni: "Exactly. Even just the time taken to shuttle all of the noncombatants and civilian equipment out of the reserve ships participating in the battle would not be insignificant. Nevermind the time needed to bring them up to a proper combat standard. Which means that, unless they want their civilians to get massacred, the quarians would not be able to bring their full numbers into the fight in the time allotted. Even if we're very generous and assume that they can get all ten thousand combat ships ready to fight in the time they have, that still only makes just shy of sixteen thousand total ships when combined with the allied fleets. The batarians would still have a not-insubstantial numbers advantage, in addition to what would also almost certainly be a firepower advantage. Aiding the humans - for the quarians, at least - is thus not quite the no-brainer it may seem.
Nessiyett: "Indeed. And, of course, defeat for the quarians means a significant percentage of their remaining population dead, much of their living space, and most of their defenses."
Teleni: "Precisely. For the quarians, the question becomes: 'Are the benefits worth risking our species?' The difficulty of answering that question does not bode well for the humans."
"Guardedly: Got any threes?"
"Go fish."
"Annoyed: Why did I let you introduce me to this game? All it does is make me frustrated."
Henry smiled at his colleague. "It was either this or poker, and I'm not brave enough to try playing poker with an elcor."
Nazzet, recently appointed elcor ambassador to the Migrant Fleet, made a chuffing noise that Henry had come to recognize as an elcor equivalent to a snort. "With resignation at my lack of wins: Fold. I am growing bored of this game, anyway."
Henry quirked an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to get bored...slower, or something?"
Nazzet chuff-snorted again. "With exasperation born from two centuries of life spent dealing with galactic stereotypes: Do not believe everything you read human. Now stop teasing me, or I will recommend you as ambassador to Dekunna."
Henry wasn't sure what was more frightening about the threat: The risk of being flattened in the planet's gravity, or the fact that he'd have to wear a hardsuit 24/7 because of it.
"Alright, alright, you win."
Of course, Henry had to wear a suit 24/7 amongst the quarians as well, but that was different. Rather than having to wear a bulky hardsuit, he wore a form-fitting envirosuit, identical to the ones worn by his hosts, except designed for a human shape. It had been a gift from the Admiralty when his posting as ambassador had been made official. It felt more like a second skin than a suit. It even had electronic signalers that could transmit to his sensory nerves to give him a limited sense of touch. He'd often wondered how the quarians managed to be suited nearly 100% of the time without going insane, but once he'd worn his own quarian suit he found himself more able to understand.
The room's wall console chimed, and Henry went to answer it.
"Ambassador Callowy speaking."
The secretary from the Admiralty's office answerd. "Greetings Ambassador. The Admiralty has accepted the meeting request submitted by yourself and Ambassador Nazzet. It is scheduled for tomorrow at 0800."
"Understood, thank you."
Henry felt some of his pent up anxiety bubble to the surface. This is it. Do or die.
"Nervously: What will we tell them?"
Henry turned to Nazzet and smiled as he shrugged. "The truth."
Henry and Nazzet entered the Admiralty's meeting chamber. Admiral Yoza, commander of the Patrol Fleet, greeted the pair.
"Hello, Ambassadors. What can we do for you?" the Admiral asked, despite the fact that she knew exactly what she could do for them.
Henry began. "Hello, Admirals. I won't waste your time being coy, so I'll just say it outright: We need your ships, or we will likely lose. We're prepared to offer just about anything. Your pick of garden worlds in human territory, guaranteed colonization rights on any dextro worlds we find. If you don't wanna put down roots, we'll build you enough live ships to double your population."
Nazzet stepped forward and spoke as well. "With Confidence: These offers are all backed by the Courts of Dekunna. Any promise the humans make, we are prepared to make as well."
Admiral Tun shook his head. "I know it may seem to outsiders that our fleet is too large to be defeated, but our actual military ships are a precious resource we've been cultivating for the entirety of our exile. These ships are for retaking Rannoch. Asking us to expend them fighting another race's war is too much."
"Even if we don't try to retake Rannoch..." Admial Zilv said pointedly. Tun scoffed at her interruption. "...The simple fact remains that the crews of our warships represent a significant percentage of our total population. Every destroyed ship represents a statistically significant loss of life. And that's even if we win this battle."
Admiral Tun nodded. "Yes, that's another point of contention. Defeat for our people means a significant portion of our population dead, and dramatic reduction in our capacity to defend ourselves, nevermind take the fight to the geth."
Henry conceded the point. "I don't claim that there isn't great risk in helping us. But there would also be great reward. In addition to the colonization grants I spoke of earlier, my government has authorized me to formally commit to an alliance in the event of any future war with the geth."
That got the Admirals' attention.
"That is...quite the offer, ambassador." Admiral Yoza understated.
"That's, that's-it's foolish!" Admiral Zilv sputtered.
Surprisingly, Admiral Tun was not pleased by the news. "You can't just bribe our people into helping you. If your military situation is desperate enough that you're willing to offer that, then that means the cost in quarian ships and lives will be far too high to be worth it. So high that, even if we win, we won't be able to consider retaking the homeworld for decades to come."
"With growing concern: The galaxy is crumbling. Soon the Council will be a shell of its former self, if it exists at all. If the Batarians win this war they will own a third of the galaxy. Even if you retook your homeworld, you'd be alone and friendless in a hostile galaxy. Join with us, and you'll have friends and allies for centuries to come."
Admiral Zilv shook her head. "Having 'friends and allies' did us little good when the geth turned against us. Assuming reason prevails and we seek out a new world to call home, our fleet is large enough to deter aggression from would-be imperialists. Allies or no allies."
Any hope of salvaging the negotiations that Henry had left died when even the eternally neutral Admiral Yoza voiced her disagreement. "Frankly, ambassadors, I am not as confident as you seem to be that the Council will crumble. I don't know what form it will take, but power in this galaxy flows from the Citadel. One way or another, someone will be in power on the Citadel again, and you and your alliance of outcasts will be in their crosshairs. A rival. Whether we attempt to retake our homeworld or settle elsewhere, entangling ourselves in foreign alliances is the last thing we should do."
She turned to her fellow Admirals. "Well, we've said our pieces. I'm assuming the three of us are in agreement: We will not be joining the war against the batarians, yes?"
The other to admirals gave their assent.
Admiral Yoza turned to Henry and Nazzet. "As this is a military decision, a Conclave vote is not necessary. Your request for military intervention is denied."
The two ambassadors gave brief farewells and then left the room in silence. They were just as wordless all the way back to their cabin.
Henry turned to look at Nazzet. "Well, shit."
"With nervous amusement: Indeed."
"It's just so damn...infuriating. We're so close, if we just had a little more-"
Henry was interrupted by the doorbell. He went to check the intercom. His Ranger guard spoke to him.
"A Quarian Captain Tenza and a Representative Neph'Olis vas Lo-Rinte here to see you, sir."
Henry wasn't surprised to hear his friend Neph was visiting, but he did think it was odd that she brought her Captain with her. He signaled his guard to open the door and greeted his guests.
"Neph, Captain! What can we do for you?"
Neph smiled at her friend. "Henry. Word is that you've spoken to the Admiralty. Any news to share?"
Henry did his best to return Neph's smile. "Nazzet and I made one last attempt to get your fleet on our side before we have our final dance with the batarians. They declined."
Neph looked to Captain Tenza. "I bet they didn't even tell them."
The Captain shook his head sadly. "I doubt it."
"Tell us what?" Henry asked.
Neph was incredulous. "They didn't tell you, did they? Damn those arrogant old Bosh'tets."
"Didn't tell us what, Neph?"
The glowing lights of her eyes seemed to soften just a touch in sadness. "They've made a private communication to us representatives, giving us a heads up that they'll be summoning the Conclave in two days, with the intent to decide on our next destination."
Her eyes closed and she shook her head. "I didn't want to believe it, but if they already dismissed your offer out of hand...then they're trying to have us turn tail and run."
She perked up slightly as a thought occurred to her. "The fact that they're calling the Conclave means that we might have one last shot. I can use my right to speak to give you the floor. You can make your case directly to the Conclave, bypassing the Admiralty."
Nazzet spoke up. "With a cautionary tone: To take such an action would likely irrevocably destroy our relationship with the Admirals. They will not take us circumventing their authority well."
Henry looked at Neph in confusion. "I thought the Admiralty held the power over this decision?"
Neph's eyes narrowed in that way they did when Henry was sure she was amused. "To simplify almost two centuries of convoluted constitutional law and precedent: The Admiralty has the authority to order a 'military operation', but only the Conclave has the authority to actually declare war. I can burn a few favors and get it pushed to the floor immediately, but it will be up to you to get people to actually vote for it."
Henry was troubled. "I wish we had more time, scrape together some real support instead of just rolling the dice."
Captain Tenza sighed. "I'm sorry, ambassador. We've left you with little choice but to do just that. When the fleet is on the move, the Conclave does not meet except for an emergency session - which only the Admiralty can call for. It'll be weeks before another session is called, this is our only chance. All we can do is present the truth and hope that my people still have a spine."
Henry sighed as well. "I don't like our odds. The Conclave already voted against giving material support. I'm not exactly confident that they'll vote to outright declare war."
"Resigned: We must try, whatever our odds." Nazzet said.
"He's right. A lot has changed since then." And with luck, it hasn't changed for the worse. Neph neglected to say that part aloud.
Henry nodded. "I'll make my speech, don't you worry."
There was a brief silence, which Neph eventually broke.
"...What are your odds without us? Do you know?"
Henry gave an empty smile. "The most consistently successful battle plan the Space Force could dream up had a 0.9% success rate in the simulators when it was just us. When the elcor, Maenus, Tellagia, and our volunteers and donor ships joined, it jumped up to 3.4% success rate. My contact in the defense ministry tells me that the odds go up to 11% if we add just one thousand more ships to our fleet."
He laughed. "Better than one in ten odds, up from one in one hundred, if we can somehow scrape together one thousand ships. Not exactly stellar, but those are odds I'd take any day of the week, given the circumstances"
"Simulators aren't exact. It may be better than that." Neph said.
"Or, it might be worse." Henry said back with a chuckle. "And in case you were curious, our success rate goes up to 63% if the entire Heavy Fleet joins us."
Neph patted his shoulders. "All you can do is your best, Henry."
Henry closed his eyes. "Yeah. My best."
Henry watched Neph as she interrupted the Admiralty as they addressed the Conclave and used her rights as a Representative to speak. There was a brief period of debate as she brought up the Hegemony and the possibility of war, but eventually Neph was able to drag things back to her point. She gestured to Henry.
"To present the case for his people and their allies, I give my place on the floor to Ambassador Henry'Calloway."
For just a moment, Henry felt hope surge in his heart, unwelcome hope, but hope all the same. He sat up from his seat at Neph's Representative bench, and moved to join her. She put her hand on his shoulder and her glowing eyes gave him that sad look from beneath her helmet one last time. Then she went to sit down.
Henry cleared his throat, and went to stand in front of the gathered Representatives from every Flotilla in the Migrant Fleet. He felt the angry gaze of the Admiralty boring into his back, and knew that he had burned that particular bridge.
"Honored Representatives, I greet you in the name of Earth and her Allies. As you are of course aware, my people have been under attack from the hostile regime of the Batarian Hegemony for nearly a year now. We've fought them off, time after time, and gathered friends and allies along the way. But now they are coming in numbers greater than anything they've sent before, and even with our allies the odds for my people are longer than they've ever been before. We have a plan to defeat them, but the plan calls for ships in numbers we do not have. The governments of every other race in the galaxy have turned their backs on us, except for you. Which is why I come before you now to ask that you join us in our struggle. My government, and the Courts of Dekunna, are prepared to offer you any concession you deem fit in an effort to secure your support. Colonization rights, ships, resources, formal alliance. Any and all of these things are on the table."
He looked at them, trying to make eye contact beneath their masks. "The Hegemony has victimized every species and government in this galaxy, including yours. If we win this war, we can humble the Hegemony more than we ever have before. We can strike back for everyone who has ever been lost to their slavers and pirates. If you come to our aid, you will always have a home in our space, and an ally in our people, this I swear. I thank you for your time, and ask you to vote with your conscience."
He returned to his seat. Neph patted him on the back and stood up. "I move to submit an emergency vote regarding the declaration of war against the Batarian Hegemony."
The voting appeared on the board, and a dozen other Representatives rapidly moved to second the motion, enough to get it pushed through. Invoking an emergency vote when she didn't even have a full year in office was not going to win her any friends (not to mention that the Admiralty would be within their right to submit a formal 'request' for her to resign), but she was well past caring. The Organizer of the Conclave, a stern, elderly woman who'd been in the job for longer than Neph had been alive, nodded (though she didn't look particularly pleased by the blatant abuse of the emergency voting clause).
"The motion is carried. Neph'Olis, please submit your proposal." Neph uploaded the paragraph of legalese she'd drafted up in preparation for this moment that was the proposal for a declaration of war against the Batarian Hegemony. The Organizer went through the necessary motions and traditions, and before long the proposal was on the terminal of every Representative in the Conclave. There was a period of conversation while the Representatives spoke with their aids, but eventually all of the votes were cast. 17% for, 83% against. Proposal Failed.
Henry was unsurprised by the results, but that didn't stop him from feeling like his chest had been hollowed out. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up. He stood up, and felt the eyes of every quarian in the room on him.
He bowed. "If you would please excuse me, Admirals, Organizer, Representatives. The batarians are coming, and I would like to be with my family when the worst happens."
He abruptly turned to leave. Nazzet followed soon after, but not before turning to address the Conclave himself.
"With frustration and repressed terror hidden behind forced courtesy: Thank you for your time, Representatives."
Neph could not bring herself to watch them go. Never in her young life had Neph'Olis been so ashamed of her people.
Neph looked at the gathered representatives of the ships in Lo-Rinte's Flotilla. The Flotilla numbered three hundred ships, of wildly different makes and models. The only thing they had in common was that they were all relatively new acquisitions of the Migrant Fleet. Lo-Rinte herself was a KOS Defender-class cruiser, "only" a few decades old. She'd been purchased for the Heavy fleet, but the slow speed of the class made her undesirable as a front line warship in the Heavy Fleet's doctrine, and so she had trickled her way down to the Civilian fleet, where she was made the command ship of a new Flotilla. When the Conclave had first been reorganized after the war with the geth, their had only been nine of them - one for each surviving heavy cruiser from the old Navy. Almost two centuries later, and the fleet had grown dramatically, and the Conclave had grown with it to encompass well over one hundred Representatives. Lo-Rinte and her flotilla was one of the newest Flotillas to be formed, and the relatively youthful demographics of the ships within it reflected that, with few of them having finished their pilgrimage any greater than a decade ago.
Which was probably why Neph - who had stumbled her way into politics after her frustration over the Conclave's early refusal to send material support - had managed to win the Representative election there, despite her youth. The gap between people of closer to Neph's age and the older demographic was a gulf that was often a struggle to cross. Neph's generation had never met anyone who had ever set foot on Rannoch. The geth were a distant boogeyman, Rannoch might as well have been in another galaxy, and the wound of their war with the machines was starting, just barely, to heal over into a scar. The desire of the older generation (men and women who had grandparents and great grandparents who still remembered the war) to retake Rannoch at the cost of everything else was one that the young people of the fleet struggled to fully grasp.
And so, the machinations of the batarians - who were nearby and actively hostile - seemed of a more immediate concern than the actions of the machine intelligence that hadn't been seen beyond the Perseus Vale in two hundred years. Because of this, Neph fully expected to pass the motion she had forwarded to the Flotilla's ship representatives. She had not, however, expected it to pass unanimously. She read the number again.
Three hundred in favor, zero opposed. The representatives looked at her expectantly, and she grinned beneath her helmet.
I guess I knew my constituents a lot better than I thought. It seems I'm surrounded by fellow traitors.
Neph stood on the bridge behind Captain Tenza, listening to the increasingly-concerned hails from the Fleet's traffic controller.
"Lo-Rinte Flotilla, be advised you are way off course. Please correct to the forwarded heading."
Tenza ignored the message and looked at Neph. "Now?"
She nodded to the communications officer, who transmitted Neph's message. Every ship in the Migrant Fleet received it on an open channel.
"Hello, I am Neph'Olis vas Lo-Rinte, elected Representative of the Lo-Rinte Flotilla. I am transmitting this message to inform the rest of the fleet that the representatives of this Flotilla find our people's refusal to act in the face of the tyranny and evil of the Batarian Hegemony to be unacceptable. We will not abandon an entire species that we regard as our friends to the Hegemony's tender mercies. As the Conclave has voted not to take action against the Hegemony once again, our only legal recourse to express our beliefs is to declare our Flotilla to be an independent Fleet. Let it be known for posterity that our actions are our own, and not those of the Quarian Conclave."
Neph's hologram leaned towards the camera, and gripped the podium. "For two hundred years, our people have been rejected by the galaxy, wandering vainly from place to place. Until, one day, we encountered the human species, a people with no pre-conceived notions of us, who offered friendship, and asked only that we help them against one of our most hated enemies. And we refused. Just as the galaxy turned their backs on us in our hour of need, so too have we turned our back on our new friends in their hour of need. We have, by extension, turned our back on the galaxy, as if the Hegemony is victorious then we doom a third of the explored galaxy to Hegemony rule. Our ancestors did not turn their backs on their friends or on the galaxy. They fought shoulder to shoulder with their allies against the rachni, and the krogan. It is for their honor that we feel compelled to fight, and for the honor of our descendants. We refuse to let history show that not a single quarian stood their ground and fought with the rest of the galaxy. If there are any other quarians in this galaxy who feel the same, they are welcome to follow us."
Neph let out a breath as the message finished playing. She cast a hopeful gaze at the Migrant Fleet on the sensor display, hoping to see a few ships follow. Minutes passed, and Neph was resigned to the fact that her Flotilla would stare down the Heavy Fleet alone. Three hundred isn't a thousand, but it's better than nothing, right Henry?
She was pleasantly surprised when she saw a trickle of ships start to leave the Fleet. The she was shocked when the trickle of a few dozen turned into a few hundred. Then, to her complete astonishment, even more followed. Unsurprisingly, the bulk of the ships were from the Flotillas who had voted with Neph to declare war, but there were at least a few ships from every Flotilla joining with Lo-Rinte now. The ragged assembly of craft slowed down as elements of the heavy fleet maneuvered to block their path.
"This is Admiral Kilen'Tun. Stand down immediately and return to the formation."
Neph walked over to a comm terminal and spoke on an open channel.
"If you deem it necessary to murder us rather than let us leave, then open fire now. We have no interest in shedding quarian blood. We offer no resistance." It was a complete bluff, Neph had no way of controlling the actions of any ship outside her own Flotilla.
Fortunately, no one seemed willing to call the bluff. Or perhaps the thought of murdering hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children was not an appealing one to the Admiralty. They're scared and shortsighted, not evil.
Neph was shocked to hear Admiral Yoza's voice transmitting somberly to the departing Flotilla. "Ancestors guide your path, brothers and sisters. May you find your way home again, some day."
Neph looked at the tactical display and had Lo-Rinte's computer run the numbers. Nearly three thousand ships, and likely hundreds of thousands, if not a million, people. Most of them weren't dedicated warships, but beggars can't be choosers. It was not soldiers going to fight with humanity, but ordinary people, determined to do what was right.
Neph grinned. Never in her young life had she ever been so proud of her people.
Wow, that was longer than I thought it'd be.
Hey there. While brushing up on quarian lore while writing this chapter, I realized that I had goofed and had there be only three admirals instead of four in the chapter that introduced the quarians to the story (I had omitted the Special Projects Admiral). The chapter was written some time during the Mesozoic period by the standards of the internet, so if you don't remember it don't feel bad. Anyway, let's just call it a retcon and say that the Special Projects division has yet to be organized into a proper fleet of its own in the 2090s.
Speaking of quarian lore, I made up the "Flotilla" system for this chapter, since the way elections work for the Conclave wasn't ever really explained in the lore, I decided to make something up. I did not think having representatives from all 50,000 ships of the flotilla be in the Conclave made sense, so I threw together the idea for the Flotillas. I must say I enjoy the little vaguely federal system I dreamed up.
Also, before any fellow lore nerds bring up Ekuna as a possible source of bad blood between the elcor and quarians: Remember, this story takes place in the 2090s, several decades before the quarian colonization attempt.
Also also: remember that people live longer in the future, which is why there were still elderly survivors from the geth war "only" a few decades ago.
