War of the Old Ones

by Ian the Mechanic

In forgotten ages past, two near eldritch forces vied for the very life essence of the Galaxy. Unknown to the young races, that war is still ongoing. how can the UNSC, the Citadel Council or the Covenant hope to stand against such forces, when they are still embroiled in their own petty squabbling? How could they hope to survive the War of the Old Ones?

8. Ch 07

Lord Hood read the report on his desk as the Adjutant waited at parade rest. "This is all we have from the Spirit of Fire?"

"Yessir," the Lieutenant gave a faint nod, "whatever Captain Cutter's team found in the Arcadia facility, both he and Admiral Cole felt it warranted a blind jump chasing a Covenant Cruiser and Destroyer. We received a slip packet from Serina indicating they had arrived at a planet orbiting a K-Dwarf Star well beyond our colonial borders, then nothing."

Hood sighed as he set the report down. "List them as 'Missing in Action' for now. Cutter's a crafty old dog. What about the site on Arcadia?"

"ISA confirms there was an ONI record of the site, but no concrete information about it or the North Polar site on Harvest that Serina also mentioned."

Terrence pursed his lips in thought. He thought of another report from Admiral Cole regarding a captured Covenant soldier after the Battle of the Great Bear. He looked the Lieutenant in the eyes. "The Covenant homing in on two such sites, then abandoning their assaults to hare off to a third is unusual. Have the ISA scour their records of any similar sites on any other colonies, especially ones the Covenant has attacked. It's a stretch, but if we can get a lead on what worlds might have these completely different alien artifacts," he huffed in exasperation, "then maybe we can anticipate which worlds those fanatics will attack next."

The young officer snapped a salute and headed out, only to be replaced by a different Lieutenant. "Sir, the latest reports from the Defense Logistics and Research-and-Development Commands."

Cole took the reports and glanced at them while eyeing the Lieutenant expectantly.

The Junior Officer settled into Parade Rest. "The new colonial regs on Uranics and Trans-Uranics processing have tripled the available stockpiles. Per request by Admiral Cole, the DLC is focusing on producing Nuclear Plasma-Penetrator and Detonation-Laser Warheads over Blast Effect munitions. Production rates are high enough that we can phase out the older Casaba-Howitzer warheads in the enduring Archer Stockpile."

The Admiral frowned faintly. "Don't decommission the warheads; send them to reinforce the stockpiles of our Relay Colony forces."

The Lieutenant nodded and made a note. "He also wants to begin phasing out the production of MAC Kinetic Impactors in favor of ultra high yield NPP/DL missiles for use in the MACs. His request is page 13 of the DLC report."

Hood flipped to the appropriate page and raised an eyebrow at what he read. Cole's suggested weapon system was a sixty ton warhead bus with either triple the effective speed and range, or the current munition speed at ten times the current rate of fire. With the projected energy on target from the requested warhead types of nearly 220 Kilotons per Megaton of warhead, and the ranges they could engage from topping out at 30,000 kilometers, there was no real need for the higher powered shots. They just needed to get the new munitions out to the front.

Hood gave his consent to the request and handed it back to the Lieutenant. "Run it through procurement as an A-1 priority. Director Hameed can dress me down about her office once we're no longer in danger of extinction. What about the new technology for ships?"

The young officer looked pensive but carried on. "Admiral Cole's rate of attrition is taxing the current yardage to near capacity just putting out replacements. The RDC hasn't been able to secure a slip for construction of new hulls to integrate the current prototype defensive systems. There are new fleet yards being built in the outer Colonies," he flinched at the cross look Hood gave him, "extrasolar nations, but the first one isn't likely to put out a finished ship until late 38' or early 39'."

The Admiral wasn't happy, but neither was he surprised; the UEG's prior focus had been on response to a domestic terrorist threat, so military production was focused in the inner colonies, with Reach and Mars being the only two proper shipyards outside of a small number of commercial yards. Between Hameed's reorganization of the Colonial Authority, and Kerensky's Amnesty program for Insurrectionists who agreed to fight the alien threat, a great deal of new industrial capacity was being opened up. The UNSC just had to keep the Covenant at bay until the mid to late 40's.

Doing so, however, required ships.

"Do they have any bolt on kits yet?"

The Lieutenant pointed. "Page nine sir. The issue is both size and power requirements. Nothing smaller than a Halberd Destroyer. Halberds and Paris Frigates can power the system, but doing so requires removing the hangar bays entirely. Marathon and Valiant class ships have the power and space; but again we either need to give up hangar space, or the kits need to be bolted onto the hull which exposes them to the enemy. Presently sir, it's just the Carrier fleet that can mount the new kits safely without losing functionality."

Terrance sat back in thought. "The lighter Frigates were always slated to be replaced by the Paris' and a new Destroyer design, and the Halberd's and Paris' carrying capacity has always been limited. Green-light as many Destroyers and Paris Frigates as we can to receive the kits. As for heavier ships," he pulled another report from his desk, "we're bringing a large number of ships out of mothballs, including the fifty surviving Halcyon Light Cruisers. Those tubs were always insanely survivable; let's see what happens when you give them shields and Nukes for days.

"Now, what about infantry systems?"

"A little bit better, sir; page 22." Hood turned to the page. "The pseudo-hard-light tech we salvaged from the Turians on Shanxi is surprisingly modifiable and relatively low powered. We've only just been able to replicate their fabrication technology on a macro-scale with industrial fabricators acquired from the Terminus systems; however something analogous to the Turian's 'Tech Armor' can be integrated into current generation powered armor and armored vehicles. Considering Covenant infantry systems are only more advanced than ours, and not demonstrably better, the edge that infantry and vehicle shields will give our military will be a distinct Force-Multiplier... once the power systems and Dumb-AI can be simplified and miniaturized without using Eezo."

Hood nodded. "Focus on integrating that with the Vehicles and Mjolnir systems; Doctor Halsey's SPARTANs are tough enough to survive any system glitches, and maybe we'll have those advances in the next decade."

The Lieutenant took the reports and left. They were replaced by yet another Lieutenant, though this one was under Marine escort. "Admiral Hood, Lieutenant First Class Adrien Victus reporting!" The Turian saluted sharply and handed a datapad to the Admiral. "I am here as a part of the Joint Officer Exchange Program."

Terrance knew this had been in the works, though it made it no less uncomfortable. Still, the opportunity to show the Citadel Council what humanity was really dealing with was too much to pass up.

"Very good Lieutenant. I'm assigning you to serve aboard the Halberd Class Destroyer Armageddon's Edge under Captain Edgar Sykes. They'll be shipping out to rejoin Admiral Cole's Third Fleet on the Covenant Front."

X

Ensign Charles Pressley sat in the cafe looking out over an alien ocean. His three months in the 'Officer Exchange' had been the most tedious tour of duty in his 22 years of service. The crew of the Frigate he'd been assigned to were professional enough, but their general disdain for him was almost palpable. He could understand it on an intellectual level, but he'd served in combat longer than half the crew had been alive.

Still, he'd do his duty and learn what he could. For now, that seemed to entirely encompass a slow tour of every Citadel Associate race. Their current venue was a water world called Khaje, and was the home of the jellyfish-like Hanar, as well as the reptilian Drell. They had apparently come here for the opening ceremony of a major religious event.

He'd stood around for the ceremony itself, which had turned out to be a long rambling speech about something called the Enkindlers. That was the local name for an ancient dead race everyone in Citadel space seemed to revere, though these Hanar took it to the Nth degree. One thing he had learned from all of this was that these races weren't nearly as advanced as they pretended to be. Every advancement they had so far as technology was concerned was derived from Enkindler ruins. Even their capital, the Citadel itself was an Enkindler relic.

In short, the Citadel Council and the Associate races were an interstellar cargo-cult. Charles was politically savvy enough to not say that in mixed company, but he got the distinct impression the locals could tell his opinion. Still, it was certainly going in his report.

He had to chuckle at the thought of those reports, and particularly about the intel analysts the Turians were most definitely using to try and decipher them. If they can get their hands on an Esperanto lexicon, then more power to them.

He noticed another alien hovering nearby; one of the pretty blue ones, and fairly young based on her mannerisms. She kept shooting him furtive looks; not like 'shy but sultry' bedroom eyes, or 'what's one of them doing here?' accusing eyes, but the nervous look of a student who wanted to ask a question. It was strange, seeing such a familiar expression on an alien face.

Well, I am here on a sort of cultural exchange...

"There is another seat if you want to join me." She actually squeaked in embarrassment at his invitation, but then stood up and came over.

"Thank you sir. I apologize for my behavior. I'm Liara." She extended a hand.

He was surprised once again by the familiarity of the gesture on a planet no other human had ever set foot on. He stood and shook her hand. "Charles, a pleasure." He kept his tone neutral. This was the first member of an alien race he had directly interacted with that hadn't shot at him first, and he was not about to jinx that.

Once they were both seated, he picked up his cup of whatever and looked at his guest. "You obviously had a question earlier, and I am here to help your people learn about mine."

Liara started and stopped several times before schooling her features. "I suppose in light of where we are, and what it means to the Citadel Alliance, the first question I have is this: have your people ever encountered any Prothean ruins in your sphere?"

"As far as I know, we hadn't found any ruins in our little corner of the galaxy until we tripped over the Relays. Though that isn't saying much," he sipped his drink and looked at the surrounding architecture. "We've only been an interstellar species for about 200 years, and we're not really spread that far from our homeworld."

Liara leaned forward in rapt attention. "Then how did you learn about Faster-than-Light technology?"

Charles considered her for a moment, but only saw open curiosity. "By never accepting that it was impossible, and experimenting until we found a solution that worked.

"How about your people," Liara's eyes widened slightly at Charles' statement, "how did you develop spaceflight and interstellar travel?" He knew the answer, but hoped to get more than just dogmatic platitudes and snide looks.

The young sophont contemplatively at the table. "The same as most other species connected by the Relays: the Protheans."

"Those are the Enkindlers the Hanar are...celebrating?"

Liara nodded. "Yes. They had a vast interstellar empire that lasted roughly 20,000 years before they vanished some 48,000 years ago. They left behind many examples of their technology that have shaped the development of our various societies."

"And what about before them?"

Liara jerked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Charles set his cup down. "Well the galaxy is Billions of years old. It hasn't altered that much in the last few million years, so if we all rose to roughly the same technological and societal level in the last fifty millenia, and the Protheans only twenty millenia before that, why wouldn't there be other races that reached the same level before them?" He gestured to himself. "Clearly other races could develop, absent Prothean influence. We're at war with an entire coalition of races that follow another technological path," he refrained from commenting that it was a nearly identical path to the one the humans had taken, "so what's to say there aren't, or weren't others out there."

Liara pursed her mouth in thought before her Omni-tool chirped. "Oh! I need to be going. Thank you so much for indulging my curiosity." She reached across the table and grasped Pressley's hand and shot him a nearly glowing smile.

Charles returned a warm smile. She's gonna be a heart-breaker in a few years. "It was my pleasure Liara." He continued watching her go until he saw a Drell looking back at him. Her glare was definitely of the, 'We don't cotton to your kind round here' variety.

His smile turned smug as he raised a glass to the sourpuss, who snorted and stalked off. Oh well. Glad I met them in the correct order. He returned to generally people watching until he was expected to return to the shuttle. His 'letter home' was going to be very interesting indeed.

X

Adrien had thought he was prepared for this duty; to serve as a liaison and representative of the Turian Hierarchy, and show the Humans what it was they were rejecting in their isolation. Then Captain Sykes decided to take him on a 'tour' of 'recently important' outer colonies.

Asmaro, Biko, Bliss, Circinius IV, Cote d'Azure, Eridanus II, Green Hills, Madrigal, Second Base, Verent.

Ten colonies, every single one a garden world, reduced to glass and ash. Even Harvest had been ravaged by the partial destruction resulting from the Covenant's assault. Adrien prided himself as more knowledgeable than most on weapons capabilities, and there was nothing, nothing he had ever even heard theorized about that could deliver the kind of devastation he had personally seen. He had recorded as much as he could, even securing permission to bring back samples as physical proof when his term as an observer was through.

All of that paled in comparison to their arrival in the Jericho system.

"Helm, roll port! Weapons status?" Sykes bellowed over the sounds of alarms as the ship bucked violently, her roll just barely putting her two meter thick armor in the path of a swarm of 'Plasma Torpedoes'.

"Ten seconds on MAC Number One, fifteen on Number Two! Archer Pods One through Thirteen at fifty percent load, Fourteen through Twentysix ready to fire!"

Adrien remembered the sense of helplessness on the bridge of the Ophiam five years ago when facing a UNSC Fleet. To see them struggling to defend themselves against a mere eight ships was scale sheddingly terrifying. Adrien was impressed with the professionalism the officers and crew were showing. He thought perhaps, if he was to die here on an alien ship, that his Spirit would be in good company.

"Frigate Grafton reports their Port drive block is gone, but they're at full MAC charge!"

Then he saw the Captain's eyes almost flash. "Helm, continue Port roll, but line us up on that CCS Cruiser and set Flank Speed. Weaps, fire A-Pods Fourteen and Fifteen on CPV number Three as soon as they bear; we'll kite the bastard into Grafton's gun-sights. Then lock all weapons on the CCS; staggered fire, Missiles, MAC One and then Two so they hit MAC, Missiles, MAC!"

There was a chorus of 'Aye's!' from all over the bridge as the Destroyer lurched under its enormous thrust. Adrien watched as a small hail of missiles lashed out at the ship four times their size. As Sykes had predicted, the bulbous craft slowly heeled over and began pursuing the Edge. He could see in the crew's posture that they put the enemy destroyer from their mind; not from any idea that it was no longer a concern, but rather that they could do nothing else but focus on the target ahead.

That target was the alien Super-Dreadnought leading the attack. Everyone seemed tense as the counters ticked down to Zero. As Adrien understood it, human ships normally had AI integrated into every level of ship operations, guaranteeing precise timing in operations such as this. He'd learned that the AI assigned to the Armageddon's Edge had been pulled for some manner of upgrade before the ship left dock. At the time, he'd been relieved at the absence of such an unpredictable element as an AI; now, he felt a tinge of concern at the effectiveness of the plan.

There was a 'Whoop!' from one of the monitoring stations. "Grafton nailed her right in the Energy Projector! She's breaking off!"

The entire bridge cheered as the counter ran down to Zero. Adrien's monitor showed hundreds of missiles swarming away from the Edge.

"Con, LIDAR! SVD moving to interpose between us and the CCS!"

Everyone became tense again as one of the Covenant's Escort-Dreadnaughts tried to shield the command ship. At T-plus-Five seconds, the first MAC Gun fired. The shot sailed true and slammed into the massive CCS, causing its shields to light up. Then the SVD was in the way. She absorbed most of the missiles against her shields, though some of the barrage made it through to the hull. Then the Second MAC fired, spearing the ship just forward of the engines. As the SVD slewed uncontrollably, Adrien could see the remains of the second shot glance off of the CCS' shields.

At this point the UNSC's flagship finally broke free from the swarm of SVD's and the remaining CPV Destroyers. She fired her own massive MAC batteries in rapid succession. One shot finally brought the enemy Flagship's shields down, while the second blasted through the starboard side lengthwise and clipped her prow. The bridge was almost riotous in cheers as the great vessel veered off course and headed away from the planet, followed closely by her escorts.

Adrien simply sagged in his seat and considered what the humans called the 'Butcher's Bill': of the force of thirty ships that the UNSC had in system, ten frigates were either crippled or destroyed, half of the Destroyers were the same, and the two Marathon Heavy Cruisers (Dreadnaughts to Adrien's eye) were drifting lifelessly, the victims of one of the CPV Destroyers' Energy Projectors.

"Alright people, no time to dawdle!" Everyone settled as Captain Sykes stood from his Command chair. "The Covie's still landed a sizable force on the ground, and Jericho has been resistant up to now about the Colonial Evacuation order so there are civilians at risk. With the Prophecy and the Canberra down, we're stretched thin for troops." The Captain turned to face Adrien. "It's your call; but if you want the full picture of what we're fighting, this is the time to find out."

Lieutenant Victus stood and sharply saluted. "Sir, I'll render whatever aid I can," his mandibles twitched in a grin, "provided the locals don't mistake me for the enemy, sir."

Sykes chuffed a laugh and returned the salute. "Head down to the hangar and meet up with Sergeant First Class Johnson. He'll see to it you get the full picture, and make sure you survive to take it home."

X

It had taken six months to get here, but Ensign Pressley had finally arrived in the Heart of Citadel space: the eponymously named, 'Citadel'. The amount of pride these people collectively assigned to stumbling onto a relic and planting a flag was mind boggling. It's scale was impressive enough, but to quote an ancient story about another star-flung traveler, 'it's a bit dingy'.

Once his assigned ship put in and he went through the intake brief, he headed out into the station propper. He'd of course been handed a list of places he should visit, 'to truly experience the majesty of the Citadel', and another of places he shouldn't go. Between the two was a place not listed at all: Zakera Ward. That was where he was now, learning about what was at the heart of Citadel culture: it's people.

"Please, just let me go!"

To include its scumbags. Charles moved with practiced ease, his decades of service in the UNMC helping to keep his steps light and sure. What he came upon was unpleasant, but not unexpected. Private Joram Talid served as a Marine on the same ship as Charles, and his contempt for the human was second to none. Apparently that contempt extended to everyone, as he had what looked like a turian in environmental work gear pinned against the wall.

"Oh? And why would I do that little suit-rat?"

"Because if you don't, your bony ass is going on report, Private." Talid spun in alarm to face Pressley. "Now put the female down and walk away," Charles cracked his neck, "or don't; your choice."

Joram buzzed in anticipation. "Oh, I think I'll put her down, only so I can put you down!"

Something that had not been revealed to any of the Junior officers or enlisted, was that Charles' last posting as a Marine was the retaking of Shanxi, or that before that he had served in the evacuation of Harvest. He had as much experience fighting aliens in close quarters as most soldiers could claim. Compared to the Covenant creatures the rank-and-file called 'Hinge-Heads', or the veteran Turian soldiers he'd faced in Xin-Taiyun, Joram was a rank amatuer.

Charles ducked the raking blow at his head and grabbed Joram by one of his mandibles, and yanked. As on Shanxi and even on Harvest, the Turian squawked in alarm before he lurched face first into the alley wall. Charles switched his grip to the tail of joram's frill, tipping the soldier's head forward and delivered a hammerfist blow to the back of his skull. Jorum slumped to the ground without a sound.

The human used Joram's Omni-tool to fabricate a set of manacles and restrained the Turian. Once he was satisfied he wasn't going to be attacked from behind, he turned to face the female.

"Shit." The female in front of him wasn't a Turain as he'd first thought, but rather Quarian. He wasn't upset that he'd saved the waif, so much as he'd received specific instructions before leaving Reach to 'minimize contact' with the interstellar nomads.

Before he could formulate a coherent statement, the alien girl locked eyes with him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you save me? I know what you are, and you clearly know what I am by your reaction, so why save me?" The female was slowly edging her way to the alleyway's entrance.

Charles frowned at her. "Because I'm not a monster." The young Quarian froze in place at that statement. "I'm guessing you've heard all sorts of Boogieman stories about humans and our savage ways, or our 'reckless' use of AI. So let me set you straight on something, and you can take it back to your people. We made our first true Smart AI over 500 years ago, and have never regretted the decision. They are our allies, our confidants, and now our legal equals. As for brutality, we were in the middle of a bloody insurrection when we were attacked by the first batch of psychotic aliens. Not a year later, we were attacked a second time for the unforgivable crime of being curious. So color us paranoid if you want, but we're still always going to try and do the right thing."

He heard Joram shift behind him, and glanced at the downed Turian. "You should probably get out of here before he comes-" he caught a flicker of motion. When he looked back, the Quarian had already run off. "You're welcome!" He shook his head and turned back to his Turian problem.

"Mwa, hwah, what?" Joram flopped onto his side and looked around.

"You got knocked out like a punk." Charles hauled him to his feet. "Word of advice, don't cross me. I was dropping bodies with the UNMC before you were born: human, Covenant, and Turian. So don't get confused about whether or not I can kill you, and focus on what's keeping me from doing it. Now come on; let's get your sorry ass out of this alley before somebody rolls you for a Credit-Chit."

Charles had no fear that Joram would report him, as doing so would require an explanation both as to why the altercation had occurred, and how he had lost to the human.

X

Adrien was hunkered down behind an overturned Covenant Banshee, the human BR-55 rifle held comfortably in his talons. He'd have preferred the versatility of his own Crossfire Assault Rifle, but the BR-55 was a more than serviceable weapon.

His fringe buzzed slightly as it did when Covenant tech was operating nearby, but he couldn't hear any more vehicles so that meant...

He dropped a smoke grenade at his side and rolled. As the cloud of green smoke erupted, it outlined the massive silhouette of an Elite. He was just coming up and bringing his rifle in line when he heard a -wizzCRACK-. The Elite's shields and cloak both buckled under the shot from who Adrien assumed was Avery Johnson. Adrien put a single tight burst into the Elite's face, dropping it dead at his feet.

"Damn! Sorry about that Ell-Tee. Missed that one on the sweep," Johnson's gravely voice came over the comms.

"Not a problem Sergeant," Adrien went up to the corpse to examine it as best he could. "Tactical Cloaks are meant for this."

"Shit, why do the aliens get all the cool toys?" Adrien barely resisted the urge to spin and shoot the voice behind him. "Us humans have to do our sneaking the hard way."

He did turn to at least face the smarmy Sergeant. "Not that it seems to cause you any difficulties." He looked back at the corpse. "The armor is completely intact."

Avery fished out one of his seemingly endless cigars. "Yeah, well I ain't cleaning hinge-head brains out of the helmet. You made the mess, you clean it up. Sir."

"Not this time, 'Sarge'. This is my last patrol with your forces."

Avery draped his rifle across his shoulders. "Ah yes; back to Citidel-ization with you. No more charging Grunt Machinegun nests, or trying to take a Brute on in Hand-to-Hand."

"Also no more 'losing my shirt' to you in poker. What ever will you do?"

"Hah!" Johnson sat on the Banshee. "There's always another sucker, I mean Lieutenant, just around the roster." They heard a rumble and looked up to see a Pelican descending. "Looks like your ride's here." Johnson looked at the Turian, then extended his hand. "It's been an honor Lieutenant. You be careful out there; if we could figure out how to get into your corner of the galaxy, then so can the Covenant. Get your people ready."

Adrien shook the hand. "I will, and so should you Sergeant; good NCO's are worth their weight in Eezo, and I don't want to have to break in a new one the next time I'm in UTSG space."

Lieutenant Victus' trip back to the Atican Beta border station was uneventful. He was preparing to board a shuttle bound for Manae to give his report when a stark white Turian with a prosthetic arm strode up to him. "Lieutenant Adrien Victus, I am SPECTER Saren Arterius." Adrien snapped to attention and delivered a salute. "I'm glad to see your time among the savages hasn't dulled you military discipline."

Saren finally returned the salute while Adrien bit back a retort; he'd never met the newest Turian Specter, but he was familiar enough with the story of his disgraced brother to know there would be no point in arguing. "Did you need something, SPECTER Arterius? I was about to head back to High-Com to deliver my report."

"Yes there is; I am to bring you to the Citadel, where you will deliver your report directly to the Council."

With that, Adrien was hustled off to a secure shuttle port and rushed to the Citadel. He was thankful Saren didn't seem interested in idle conversation. Once they arrived, Adrien was whisked off in an Air-car directly towards the Presidium and the Council Tower. He kept his duffle with him the entire time.

Once they'd arrived at the executive dock, Saren extended a talon towards the bag. "You won't need that; just go in and give your brief."

Adrien clicked his mandibles and tightened his grip. "With respect, SPECTER, but if I'm to give a full and accurate report, as I assume I am expected, then I will need my bag. Security can scan it if they want."

The look on Saren's face was one of someone who was accustomed to being obeyed; an unfortunate symptom many SPECTERs suffered from. Arterius waved a C-Sec officer over. "Check this bag for any contraband." He then pivoted and stormed off.

The Turian C-Sec wearing Sergeant stripes gave a chagrined smirk. "It's nothing you did; he was like that when I served under him during the Relay 314 incident." The officer glanced over his shoulder. "I don't think he even recognized me, despite being the only NCO to serve under him. Anyway, let's get this over with; you have a meeting to attend."

Adrien's duffle was given a quick but very thorough search, and then he was waved on through. He stepped into the Council Chambers as he was announced; but it was not to a closed session with the Councilors, rather to the spectacle of a full session. The Gallery was lined with representatives from the associate races, as well as the media and even several other SPECTERs. He didn't know what the Council meant by this display, but he imagined they would not like the result from his report.

Councilor Sparatus waved his arms in a magnanimous gesture as he spoke. "The Citadel Council recognizes and welcomes back one of it's honored sons. Please, tell us of your time among the humans."

Adrien centered himself, then pulled the small box containing the fragments of the glassed colonies, as well as readying his holographic record for presentation. "Over the last year, I served aboard and with the crew of the UNSC Armageddon's Edge, one of the humans' Halberd Class Destroyers." He keyed his Omnitool to project an image of the Edge through the chamber's holographic emitters. "In that time we performed a number of operations, both beneficent and military to include: freedom-of-navigation assessments, emergency relief and evacuation assistance, space-dominance combat, and planetary assault."

Everyone in the gallery murmured at the broad number of tasks he had performed in his time with the UNSC. Sparatus however looked unimpressed. "They certainly kept you busy with exercises during your time."

Adrien's mandibles clicked shut and his fringe flared slightly, causing both Sparatus and several security officers to tense up. "I did not say, 'exercises', councilor; I said 'operations'." Adrien was focused on Sparatus, though he did notice the tense shifting in the other two councilors and the Gallery. "This august body is fully aware that the UTSG is at war with an alien coalition calling itself the Covenant. In my capacity as an official observer, it was my privilege and burden to witness and participate in this conflict with my own eyes and talons."

Sparatus had the decency to look chagrined at the gaff, though he composed himself quickly. "Yes, quite. That does bring up a point of interest. What can you tell us of this Covenant that has the mighty UTSG so scared that they hide their citizens within our space?"

In one question, Sparatus had laid his intent bare: to show the UTSG as weak. Adrien was already tense, so nobody noticed how offensive he considered that thought.

"They are in a word, Councilors: monsters!" He picked up the case. "If it pleases the Council, I would present you with evidence for your consideration."

Sparatus was too surprised by the outburst, so Councilor Tevos gestured for him to continue. He advanced to a central dais and began laying out the shards inside for all to see. As he did, his omnitool began showing images of the ravaged worlds along with their names, and their pre-invasion populations.

"Eleven worlds, Councilors. Each one was a garden world before the Covenant descended on them. Ten are now molten husks, while one other was so ravaged by the Covenant that it's biosphere may never recover. That is who the Covenant are."

Councilor Sparatus was still and stiff, his mandibles and fringe pinched close in alarm; though Adrien couldn't say whether that was due to the evidence, or what it said about his blatant politicization. Again, it was left to Tevos to move the inquest along.

"Surely there is some reason given for this," she struggled to articulate the atrocity before her.

Adrien relaxed slightly as he focused on the Asari Councilor. "There is, Councilor. I had the opportunity to observe several interrogations of captured Covenant troops. Each eventually gave the same reason: the eradication of the human race was demanded by their Gods." Adrien stepped back slightly and swept his eyes over the entire Gallery. "Make no mistake in this: the humans are fighting a war of survival against a foe wholly committed to their Genocide. It is a war the humans are losing.

"The last half of my time with the UNSC was spent in the Jerricho system. Their Operations Group of thirty ships fought against a Covenant force of eight. They managed to drive the Covenant off by destroying one ship and damaging two others, but at the cost of fifteen ships destroyed, two more damaged beyond operational capability, and every ship scarred and in need of repair yards. While I was in Jerricho, the UNSC was fighting the Covenant in twelve other systems."

Adrien sagged slightly and looked at the crystals in front of him. "The humans are, 'hiding their citizens in our space' in a desperate bid to stave off extinction at the talons of a coalition that stands for everything this alliance opposes. They are terrified, and rightly convinced they stand alone in a galaxy determined to wipe them from existence." He raised his eyes back to the Council. "In spite of all that, in my time among them I was welcomed, eventually treated as an equal in their eyes. One soldier described me as, 'just a picky eater with bad skin'. They are flawed, but then so are all peoples. All they desire is that fundamental desire possessed by all races: to survive.

"The remainder of my report is of a strictly technical and military nature, which I believe is outside the scope of these inquiries." Adrien finished by standing at Parade Rest.

Sparatus finally shook off his torpor and cleared his throat. "Well, you have certainly given us much to think about Lieutenant. The Council," he glanced tensely at his fellow Councilors, "thanks for your service. You are dismissed."

Adrien gave a salute, gathered his things and departed. As he was leaving, he noticed SPECTER Arterius sending him a dark look while making his way towards the Hanar representative.