I am debating on moving up to 4k long chapters. I've been doing 2k ones for now, but generally, I find they're much shorter, and it's harder to give it any degree of thickness in that case. So going to trial doing double the words, half as often.
Naotw: So, I abbreviate it as CSG because I'm a nerd and since I'm currently rewatching Battlestar Galactica, I went for CSG because it rhymes with BSG (Or BattleStar Group). It sounds quicker and more acceptable than SCG. So a Heavy Cruiser in this universe (See the codex at the end, I thought I'd give you a bit more ship knowledge) is just under a kilometer in length. However, this isn't the only factor. Generally, ships in this have similar proportions (Example, a 10-meter-long ship is half the length of a 20 meter long ship, it's also half the width and height). What you need to wrap your head around, is that if your ship length doubles, (Like the evolution between light and heavy cruisers), the volume actually increases by a factor of 8. Simplistically speaking, I've assumed that crew complement is directly compared to volume, and as such the crew count increases by 8. Generally, you always want to overshoot with crew numbers to ensure redundancy, and as all of these can be given weapons, that means that the marine complements are pretty extensive as well. (The Janus class for example has a marine complement of 5400. Or about 30% of the crew. (For crew numbers I've assumed 30% are dedicated marines, 20% are officers, command staff, section leaders, and strategists, 10% are the auxiliary staff like medical officers, doctors, therapists, and the remainder are actual crew members (40%)
This also creates a hefty limitation on conscription, a navy with hundreds to a few thousand vessels is going to field hundreds of thousands of naval personnel. However, this doesn't count transport ships. If you want some insane numbers, the Light Troopship (About the same length as a light cruiser can carry a full division. A capital-sized heavy troop carrier can carry 10 times that despite being just over twice the length, and the largest transport the Alliance possesses can carry a full army. Or about 250,000 soldiers. Impressive right? And that still leaves 1200 meters cubed per person. Imagine a tall room. That room can be 25 by 16 meters. Or the width of a small house per person! This is important because space travel is boring and depressing, as such more than normal space in each ship is devoted to morale. Therapists, commissars, full-size gardens, and entertainment systems. For larger ships, they have hydroponics and food production to ensure fresh food.
Leon's Fantasy: Thank you kindly. I'll get right on it!
Blaze1992: The Turians I feel are often misrepresented in first contact as incompetent buffoons, however largely I think the first contact war was more a matter of overstepping officers and completely complacent humanity. Nevertheless, I intend to spend some time getting the first contact moving rather than jumping straight into battles. The tech is indeed confusing, but it will become more obvious as the battles begin in the future.
Guest: Yeah….. The less said about them the better. Though Warhammer is perfect if you want a HFY.
Valkrus: So kinda. It was based on my own design for a sub-orbital drop-ship. Based on aerodynamics and the required fuel reserves for the thrusters. Mostly it resembles the martian dropships from the expanse, but I envisioned something larger that could carry more fuel.
Turtlekungfu: Thank you! Here's another chapter!
Guest: My man takes a damn chill pill. I cuss because I'm from a working-class family in rural England with a scouse parent. Of fucking course I swear in normal speech, it's part of the dialect. Secondly, if you don't like it… piss off. No one forces you to read the A/N that's up to you. As for anyone who thinks that swearing is a sign of reduced intelligence, I'd do the same as Russel Howard and point you towards Steven Fry. I also don't think anything less of any story that does play loose with these rules, it fits the narrative and makes sense. I am merely positing my own logic onto the situation. My first instinct is you're probably a troll or someone who judges FF writers for being 'low-intelligence cringelords'.
Star Cruiser Group 75, Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard
The atmosphere was notably tense as the L-type dropship blasted forth from the vessel. The heavily armored shuttle was smooth in its flight, and after the initial burn, switched to coast in on momentum alone, the journey barely lasting half a minute after the engines stopped. As the craft flew, Hannah nodded towards the well-armed marines. The leader of which was a by-the-books-looking blonde woman, with black and red armor. "Sergeant Larson… Did the Commissar brief you on the situation?"
She nodded, adjusting the seals on her helmet, reminding Hannah that she should probably do the same. Unlike Larson, she wasn't in a typical spacesuit, but as the highest ranking officer in the region, she was the registered diplomat for their vessel. Typically all Alliance Star Cruiser groups carried a diplomat, but CSG-75s had yet to receive replacements, and prior to sailing, she had received quick training in first contact scenarios. Apparently a shortage of diplomats.
"Ma'am I can't guarantee your safety partially if they try anything. But we can make it damn hard for them to eliminate us from the equation".
Hannah frowned, such openly paranoid behavior towards these aliens was perhaps not entirely deserved, especially considering so far first contact had gone swimmingly. "That's fine Sergeant, I expect this will go fine anyway, the Aliens wouldn't go through all this just to kill a few of us. Are weapons powered down?" she yelled towards the cockpit, where the pilot nodded, though he kept his eyes on the nearing fleet. "Yes, Admiral. 40mm is un-deployed and machine guns are still retracted. I'd suggest you brace ma'am, going to begin the slowdown burn. As the ship turned slowly, burning its engines, Shek could barely contain her excitement. "These aliens! So interesting, I can't wait to meet them. What does First Contact say?"
Hannah sighed, closing her eyes and thinking back. "According to our Political Officer, as a representative of the Alliance, I'm effectively here to say hello and establish what kind of species or government they are under, and attempt to establish the system as a neutral zone. The central command will have sent a formal ambassador to discuss diplomatic ties as soon as they received our probe, meaning a few days away, that means a heavy cruiser battlegroup as a show of strength. We need to hide our military strength to ensure they don't see any advantage or disadvantage. A heavy cruiser could be seen as a light escort, or it might be a massive target, but their reaction will tell us about what they are technologically speaking". Shek frowned, "We're making first contact opinions with a warship?"
"Indeed! The Commissariat for Foreign Affairs believes it will foster a sense of understanding, that we preach peace but are prepared for war".
She retorted. The plan would hopefully work well. Provided the enemy was at least somewhat comparable. If they showed up with a fleet of tens of thousands of warships it would be a bit poor looking, but nonetheless manageable. Anyway…. What kind of race had tens of thousands of military armed vessels? She snorted at the thought.
Upon closer inspection of the vessel, as they approached, she began to make observations. As suspected it was constructed of a steel-magnesium alloy hull, a cheap and economic option, with armored plates of titanium over probably vital components, strange energy projectors that remotely resembled electrostatic interceptors were arrayed across the hull, with several broadside gun batteries. The main banks of the vessel were its odd laser weapons that seemed to double as a point defense system and optical transmission system.
The main hangar bay was small, but just about large enough to fit the L-class in. A boxy, barely utilitarian shuttle had been docked to an actual docking port on the keel, allowing the L-class to enter the cargo bay and make a landing on its four metal legs. The clunk sounded it in a residual vibration that set her teeth on edge, and she smoothed down the creases in her uniform, her heart in her throat.
"Good news ma'am, the atmosphere reads as a nitrogen-oxygen mix with some xenon and CO2. No dangerous pollutants or chemicals were detected, but I'd advise you to keep your oxygen masks on to ensure that any potential pollutants and infectious agents cannot enter your body. It's possible their illnesses could be highly dangerous."
The metal ramp lowered slowly, before halting prematurely on the deck, she could see lines of figures in the alien hangar, but instead took a deep breath to stabilize her nerves, and began walking out of the ship. The hangar bay was designed for utility obviously. Exposed pipes, wires, seams, and metal bulkheads shone with damage and scratches, giving it character. The individual personality in the ship almost calmed her a tad, but the aliens all standing out in military gear did not.
However as she inspected the two lines more closely, she noted the incredibly elaborate stitching on their envirosuits. They were skin-tight, hugging what was probably their flesh very closely, with swirls, curves, patterns, and patches sewn into the fabric bits, and uniquely fastened rubberized polymers covering other aspects. Most had uniquely covered opaque masks, with two surprisingly human-like eyes behind the masks that remained fixed forward. They held unfamiliar weapons, but like any good soldier exercised good firearms safety and kept them pointed towards the ground. The figure she was meeting was obviously the highest rank, given the two marines that flanked him.
He was tall, an inch taller than she was, but barely noticeable. His mask was dark blue-black, with his eyes notably eclipsed by the mask, and metal plates extending to either side of an unlit indicator where his mouth should be. Exposed piping moved from under where his chin would be to the rest of the suit, under an elaborate dark grey cloth of fabric with orientalized red sashes crossed his torso, and a pair of dented metal shoulder pads were relatively small but framed a pair of flexible armored appendages that ended in three-fingered hands.
The lower half of his torso had exposed rubbery fabrics that could flex and move, with more rigid polymer or possibly metal sections that covered where his stomach would be. All-in-all, for an alien species most of his biology was remarkably noticeable, and she noted that at least 1 of the flanking marines was a few inches smaller, with extended mammary glands at her chest. Her cloth was also more feminine, and the concept of 'alien femininity' would be a subject for philosophers and sociologists for years to come. Were some concepts over double-gendered races universal?
She realized during her ruminations that she had applied a huge amount of human-centric ideals to the aliens and that she had naturally assumed that the smaller, more well dressed and human-feminine-looking ones would be the females of this race. For all she knew, the females of the race were the taller and more sparsely decorated ones. After all… most of nature tended towards males having to be the decorative ones?
She shook the attempts at understanding a culture she had yet to meet from her head and held out her hand in greeting.
"Hello".
Captain Kar'Danna vas Noreh
The shuttle (If it could even be called that settled down). The metal was immaculate, barely dented, and painted a dark black and grey, with harsh contours that indicated this meant business. The landing legs were nothing special, just some metal bracings that extended seamlessly from the corners of the craft. The ramp slowly lowered, revealing his first look at these…. Humans? The vid had been dissected for words, and he assumed that was the species' name. Shame he didn't have any asari who might be able to meld to acquire the language. Several asari were in the fleet, mainly prisoners from pirate raids who had been convinced, the odd maiden with a quarian bondmate. He had none on the Noreh, but he knew for a fact that Zorah had a Matron married to his Flag Officer on the Alerei. She would have been a great help. Same for Han'Gerrel, though the mercs he'd imprisoned on his ship would likely refuse any sort of inclusion. Shame the fleet wasn't here.
The human who was obviously their leader was still shrouded in darkness, but flanking them was a pair of marines in heavy armor. They were pretty remarkable looking, with dark grey armor sets emblazoned with the same tools. Both had written words in the human language on them, and the humans all wore helmets. The marines wore minimalist helmets. Smooth armored ones that had narrow, blue-lit eye slits to see through. The lead diplomat was finally visible, and a hum of nerve went round as she stepped out. She! The reason Rael applied this? Because in the flesh, the humans really did look like Asari. The woman was quite tall, almost coming up to his height, in a black and red-rimmed uniform with the same emblazoned symbol as their flag. The envirosuit included a see-through mask that extended over her head.
She eventually reached him, and for the longest 4 seconds of his entire career, Kar'Danna did consider just hiding in the engine room, sorely missing the time when he'd been Chief Engineer. But he would be damned to waste an opportunity to meet a new race, so he copied her action. She then closed all five (Ancestors there were a lot of digits, he wondered how the Asari could keep track of them) fingers over his hand, before shaking it up and down.
"Hello".
She said something in her language. It sounded vaguely feminine and quite smooth. Just as it almost had on the vid, guessing it was a greeting, he waited for her to let go, he dispensed with the standard quarian greeting, an over-indicated nod and a slight wave of his hand. Shaking hands had once been a tradition, but the flotilla had put an end to that pretty quickly, given the first generation of envirosuits were quite terrible, the concept of hand-to-hand contact was reserved for close friends or family. And while the current envirosuits could allow one to swim through a refuse chamber if they wanted to, by that point the practice had died of culturally, given most species of the galaxy didn't want to associate with the 'disgusting vagrants and thieves'.
"Greetings. I am Kar'Danna, Quarian". He emphasized, pointing to himself with his name, before circling his hand around a group of them when he mentioned his species name.
Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard
She nodded as the alien said his strange words, the language was unique. It sounded quite musical, almost like a mixture of Latin and Slavic languages, with a healthy dose of Celtic. And the voices were ever so slightly synthesized. She mimicked his action, drawing a circle around them, "Quarian". She then did the same to herself. "Hannah Shepard…. Human".
The Quarian, Kardanna nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Human! Hannah'Shepard". He then pointed at their group and themselves. "Quarian, Human, Siabraui".
Taking a leap of faith, she pointed to her whole group, then to them. "Humans! Quarians! Friends!". Her mouth broke into a smile before she turned to the Commissar. "Dr. Shek? Introduce yourself!"
She looked from Shepard to the ali- to Kardanna with fascination, pointing at herself. "Doctor Lin-Bao Shek, Human!". The alien turned around to one of his guards, gesturing for them to come forward. "Kalreegar vas Noreh, Quarian!"
The two groups continued, interchanging items and explaining what they were. Kal retrieved his gun, pointing at it. The humans showed off some of their more common cultural artifacts. Shepard brought out a copy of Tetris on her datapad, Dr. Shek attempted to match certain scientific phenomenon to the Quarian designations. Things like the basic principles of mathematics and physics. They exchanged pictures on their datapads. While not a single one of them might have known it. This simple meeting, exchanging information, would set the precedent for a friendship that would shake the galaxy…
The Citadel, Councillor Tadius Sparatus, Turian Hierarchy
The Citadel was a beautiful site at times like this, a shining lotus flower 44 kilometers in length when closed and possessing millions of people within the confines of its city. Its position in the Serpents nebula made it unassailable from other forces, with defensive platforms and the Citadel Defense Fleet standing guard over the station, the imposing shape of the Destiny Ascension was visible even from here as it patrolled, the two Turian dreadnoughts flanking it completely outsized. Right now, however, Sparatus was not in the slightest interested in the mighty vessels outside as he paced back and forth. Because he had a problem.
Said problem was only a small word. Just seven letters long. And that problem began with a Q, and ended with 'Uarian'. The council had given rights damn it to the Turians to mine that planetoid. And the Quarians had taken them and made a mockery. The decimation of the frigate had killed hundreds, and then they'd run off. At least they'd made the suit rats pay for their mistake in blood. 2 cruisers lost and another heavily damaged, and they'd been declared persona-non-grata across Citadel Affiliated space.
He had been hoping to petition a complete restriction on Quarian rights. Arrest all currently known pilgrims to either deport them to their fleet or declare them security risks. Complete travel ban on Quarians, and then ban the Quarian fleet from utilizing the Citadel Mass Relay network. It would prevent the Quarians from attempting some sort of foolish war with the Geth or attempting to upset the fragile balance of power.
But the suit rats didn't have the dignity to lie down and take it, they'd fled known space through the outer terminus systems and then disappeared near the Turian and Batarian border. The Mass Relays in that system either led to well-known systems, or were inactive, and not even the Quarians would be stupid enough to activate a dormant mass relay without first petitioning the council. They could have escaped via normal FTL, and there were a few dozen ships scouring nearby star systems to ensure they could find them.
Not even the spirits damned STG or the SPECTREs had managed to locate the fleet, and as the days had dragged on, the terrifying thought that the Quarians had opened an inactive mass relay was coming to the forefront of his consideration, which only added yet another crime to the long list of grievances held with the Quarian fleet. The Turian fleet however was refusing to budge, Primarch Fedorian and Primarch Quentiss had both vetoed his request for 2 full battle divisions to join the search. Thankfully the Council had approved his wish to begin opening Relay 316 and 314.
He needed ships though! Citadel law said that at least 3 Capital class vessels had to be present. The Citadel Defense Fleet was new and stretched thin covering relay networks, the Turian fleet wasn't budging. The Salarians had just enough dreadnoughts to sustain a defensive fleet, and the Asari had a few more, but they wouldn't budge, given that Tevos was staunchly opposed to any kind of action. Then there was…. The Batarians.
They definitely had the numbers, not as much as the Salarians, but their agreement with the Terminus meant they rarely got attacked, and usually only by rogues or vigilantes, who often then found themselves pursued to the ends of the galaxy by Hegemony special forces, which were nothing to scoff at. They were easily corrupted, and while he shivered at the mere thought, they'd take the opportunity to capture some slaves. Returning to his seat, he almost immediately opened up a communications channel with the Batarian ambassador. Typing out an informal request for the Hegemony to assist in the search for the quarian fleet. He could leverage a small fortune from the Citadel bounty system, and promise some vague reparations of slaves. He also knew that the Heirarchy was about to scrap 12 cruisers and 3 frigate wolfpacks, and he knew the scrap company boss personally. They would certainly salivate at the Batarians paying a pretty penny for some not-that-outdated warships.
Now was the hard part…
Codex Entry: Imperium class Dreadnought (Turian Heirarchy)
"Aim towards people and objects of interest from close to medium range for the best effect. Press the button to activate and light up the required targets and then hold the button to recharge. Flash should take around 3 seconds to recharge. Keep an eye out for the 'Fully recharged' light and in some cases a beep to ensure that your flash fires at full power. Do not look into the flash directly to avoid undue damage" – Old human camera instructions.
Number in Service: 11 (3 under construction)
Length: 1090 meters
Crew: 10,300 (Minimal crew complement of 4200)
Kinetic Barriers: Dreadnought grade Kinetic Barriers
Engines: 2 Superheavy Eezo Ion Engines
Powerplant: 1 'Palevan Dynamics' Mk IV Dreadnought Grade Element Zero drive core,
FTL: Standard Capital grade Element Zero FTL drive
Weapons:
- 192 GUARDIAN Infrared Laser Arrays
- 48 Broadside Torpedo launchers
- 28 Broadside Medium grade Mass Accelerators (2 per turret)
- 2 Spinal Dreadnought grade Heavy Mass Accelerator cannons
Auxiliary craft
- 48 Interceptors
- 84 Fighters
Utilities:
- Standard loadout
Lore: Developed 10 years prior to first contact, the Imperium class is the newest generation of Turian dreadnought, following the design style of all its predecessors. The vessel is standard for a dreadnought, with 31% more firepower than its predecessor and impressive barrier and armoring. The ship is notable as being the largest and most well-armed standard dreadnought in Citadel space, and borrows many design inspirations from the latest generation of Asari dreadnoughts. The vessel is reaching the end of its production phase, and work is scheduled to start next year for its successor, to replace the older dreadnoughts.