Relevant Notes Will Be At The End Of The Chapter

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Mobile Suit/Mass Effect

Episode 9

Path of Destruction

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Commander Herac Magarius stood at the observation deck of where it all began, on the Watchpoint he was in charge of not too long ago. It'd been over half a year since the incident, but the commander could've sworn it was a lifetime ago. So much has changed, so much is still to happen, Herac could hardly believe it himself. He looked outside the Watchpoint's windows, at the Turian cruiser Ashtareus, which was currently docked to the station. If you told him a year ago, that not only would Sector Command realize he was right, but that he'd be promoted and given command of his own battle group... he'd call you crazy. But as it happens, the Spirits worked in strange and convoluted ways.

Quietly, Magarius contemplated and meditated at what was to come. It was in trying times like these that seeking guidance from the Spirits often proved most fruitful. However, during turbulent times like this it was often hard to find the calm needed to commune with them.

Such is the strange way the river of life flows, Magarius mused to himself.

The Ashtareus was being inspected one last time before the expedition is to be launched next week. An army of engineers and technicians looked through every nook and cranny on that cruiser, looking for anything that could possibly hamper its operations. The retrofits and modifications meant to counter the 314 Aliens held up reasonably well during the various wargames... but this was going to be the real thing.

Even with all the rules and modifiers used to simulate a battle against whatever awaits behind Relay 314... that's all that was at the end... a simulation.

"Credit for your thoughts?" A familiar voice suddenly yanked Magarius from his thoughts.

The commander turned around, finding none other than his sponsor, Chief of the Turian Internal Security Bureau's Central Office, Castis Vakarian. A smile formed on Magarius' face.

"Castis, my friend! I wasn't expecting you to be here!" Herac greeted, offering a hand which Castis took. They shook in the classic Turian handshake, grabbing each other's forearms then coming in close for a half-hug. "I thought Portia is expecting soon?"

Castis smiled at his friend and shook his head. The edges of his plates were a little flaky and his eyes seemed sunken due to exhaustion, but the ISB chief gave Herac an expression of true warmth.

"Aah, she's not due for another week or two." Castis answered, though his face turned slightly more serious as he continued. "Plenty of time to see you and the troops off. Now that's enough about me, how has your new command been treating you?"

"No less stressful than commanding a watchpoint, that's for sure." Magarius let out a wry laugh.

The conversation continued naturally from there as the two Turians discussed about a variety of topics, from how Magarius was managing his squadron of warships, to Castis' ongoing battle to be clean of Dew. They moved towards the watchpoint's officer's lounge as they conversed, taking seats on either side of one of the many tables available there. Castis sat down and leaned backwards into his chair as Magarius placed cups on the table for the two of them.

"I can't imagine what the Military Council's been like these past few months." Magarius mused as he poured carbonated drinks into both their cups. "There's been so much work on my end, I haven't gotten the chance to check listen in on politics."

"Honestly, the Military Council's pretty much devolved into a never ending pissing match between the Reformers and the Old Breed." Castis sighed.

Magarius cast a look at his friend as he took a sip of his drink. Stress was seriously starting to show on the ISB Chief. His eyes were sunken and blueish rings were starting to form around them. The edges of his plates have started to flake and become rougher than normal - a sure sign of exhaustion, lack of sleep, and an imbalanced diet. The Commander could only guess how much worse the Chief must be feeling compared to how he looked.

"Fedorian and Lacinius have it stuck in their heads that it's either their way, or no way at all." Castis grumbled, pausing only to down his carbonated drink. "For the past few months they've been fighting by collecting or denying assets necessary for the expedition."

"That explains the slow trickle of reinforcements on our end." Magarius nodded, scratching his chin plates. "Expedition's supposed to start next week, but we're still expecting more units to arrive in the next couple of days."

Hearing that, Castis frowned.

"Arterius and Lacinius are cutting it awfully close."

"They are." The commander sighed out the statement of fact. "Late arrivals are going to assigned to the later waves, to give them more time to prepare... but it's hardly comforting... if at all."

"I can only imagine." Castis voiced his sympathies. "If I were in charge of the first attack wave like you were, I'd want to have solid backup as well."

The initial attack wave was expected to take the brunt of the enemy's strength head on. It was going to be a tough fight, especially with the disparity in firepower due to the enemy's prolific use of directed energy weapons... but it's currently theorized that superior numbers and overwhelming force will eventually be able to turn the tide in the Expedition's favor. After that, a breakthrough force could run through the enemy defenses and attack their strongpoints and whatever habitable worlds existed in the system.

"Yeah, but I'm not leading the first attack wave." Magarius corrected. "That... uhm... honor... goes to Commander Haliat and Battlegroup Explorator. Arterius reshuffled the plan a couple of days ago, I'd have thought you'd have read up on it by now."

The ISB chief didn't know that... either he's starting to fall behind on the intel briefs, or that particular report has somehow slipped through his watch.

A third possibility was that someone in the upper echelons of command was deliberately leaving him out... but Castis quashed that idea quickly and attributed it to 'stress induced paranoia'. No, it was more likely that he was getting overwhelmed by both the crisis at hand, and trying to get clean of Dew at the same time. Lacinius and the Old Breed were set in their ways, but they're not stupid... or dare he say, traitorous.

Still, now that the idea had wormed itself into his head, it made him uneasy. A little frown threatened to form on the ISB Chief's face before he shook his head and went to change the subject.

"Battlegroup Explorator... aren't they made up of fast recon squadrons?" Castis asked, to which Magarius nodded. "They're a bit on the lighter end, tonnage and firepower wise, I mean. Personally, it strikes me as unwise to me to send a light and mobile attack force as the first wave."

"Oh, they are on the lighter end. There's no doubt about that." Magarius sullenly nodded. "I don't like that they're getting sent first as well... but as the recon fleet, Explorator is equipped with state of the art long range sensors and before all the modifications. They are up there with the best comms and sensor suite available to the navy, maybe even the galaxy. If anyone is going to be able to beam back usable intel on the enemy's force composition, it's going to be them. And with that intel the follow up waves-"

"-Will know what they're walking into, and how to counteract the threat." Castis grumbled.

It was cold, brutal calculus, reducing soldiers and sailors down to capability and statistics... to throw Turians into the meat grinder and expect them to do their duties. Castis didn't like it, but he had to admit... a lot of the time, it worked.

"A lot of Turians aren't going to make it home." The ISB Chief said in a low voice, barely over whisper, as if somehow saying it quietly would make it less likely to happen. "Damn that Lacinius and his pride."

Magarius sighed as he nodded in understanding. He was just as frustrated at the Primarch's decision making, but with the added stress of the fact that he was directly involved in what was to come.

"If it'll give you any comfort..." The Commander started. "We've gathered... or, well I suppose we're currently gathering... what's looking to be the largest expeditionary force put together since the Krogan Wars. Hundreds of warships, millions of soldiers and sailors, and an army of support personnel to follow. The aliens have shown a sense of self preservation during contact. Surely that'll kick in when they fully realize what they're up against."

"That's the thing, Herac." Castis countered. "We hoped for the same from the Krogans... look how that turned out. With these aliens able to punch well above their weight, I'm worried this'll only end with utter annihi-"

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"-lation of an invading enemy fleet will be our top priority." Admiral Hauberk stressed as he delivered his strategic briefing.

I was starting to struggle to stop myself from dozing off. Why squadron leaders like Verns and I were dragged into meetings normally meant for flag officers and ship captains was beyond me.

We were all seated in a massive auditorium in Risima Station's central military complex. There must've been hundreds in here, maybe close to a thousand. Officers, logisticians, defense contractors, even members of Golden Beacon, all there to be briefed on the updated defense strategy.

"Allowing an enemy invasion force into the Shanxi Sphere will inevitably get civilians caught in the fighting. The Marine Corps and Colonial Defense Forces are stretched thin shoring up defenses for various strategically important colony stations." Hauberk then pointed to the presentation screen, highlighting the ground forces' defenses. "The Army, Navy, and terrestrial CDF units are also at their limit trying to cover Shanxi. There's still a lot of gaps left in their defenses, they can't man defenses in ever space station and inch of planetary surface. As it stands, our best hope in minimizing civilian casualties will be to halt the enemy before they can board a single station, or launch a single drop operation."

I stifled a yawn, then stretched my arms as it was starting to get sore from the lack of activity. Nothing being explained so far was new, merely a reiteration of our current strategic situation and how Shanxi Command was planning to deal with it. Admiral Hauberk always did go to slavish lengths to hammer home the point... admirable and understandable to an extent... but this was the third time he's repeated why the Space Force can't allow the enemy to break through towards Shanxi. After a point, I just wished he'd get right to the point.

Looking to my right, I saw that even Verns was starting to chafe. Oh sure, he might've hidden it behind his that stoic and professional expression he kept during working hours, but I could still see his discomfort. His lips curled just that little bit into a barely discernible frown, his brows pressed heavily on his prescription goggles.

Oh yeah, he was definitely bored.

Bullow, on the other hand, seemed as attentive as always. She was nothing if not an exemplary example of what a Congressional Space Force officer should be, and she's damned proud of it. It wasn't surprising at all that she'd take these briefings so seriously, no matter how much of a slog these always end up being.

Thank God that Rosen wasn't required to join this meeting. I could only imagine how much more torturous this would be for the young pilot. Death by powerpoint was a very, very real danger with her.

"To that end, we have completed the deployments of several Bullhead Class Defense Stations around the Mass Relay leading towards the Fumitan System." The Admiral continued. "Several warship squadrons will be deployed and based on these defense stations for the foreseeable future, that is to say until an attack begins, or until someone in Central Congress can figure out a diplomatic solution... since the latter is beyond the scope of our duties, let's just focus on what we can do."

Finally, the Admiral got down to brass tacks. Squadrons normally sent out to patrol were quickly reassigned to watch the relays, so that included us. This couldn't have happened without Golden Beacon's cooperation, since they were the threat we were on the lookout for. Now we were working with them to defend Shanxi from a mutual threat.

Crazy how much things can change in a few months, huh?

In any case, the news of our next deployments was pretty much the only things I really needed to pay attention to. Squadron 13 -that's the Risima and the four Curran Class Destroyers flying with us- were assigned to Bullhead 4. Also assigned to Bullhead 4 was Squadron 86 -two Chariot Class Cruisers and three Currans- and Squadron 108 - an all destroyer formation of six. On our flanks were Bullheads 3 and 5, each with three squadrons of their own. Then, not far behind would be Bullhead 1, which had five warship squadrons on station, one of which was lead by Commander Cinder Autumn and the two Nikos Class Battlecruisers under her command. They'll be acting as a quick response force to shore up gaps forming along the first defense line.

Overall, it was as solid as a primary defense line as we could manage, given the resources we had at hand. A lot of the Shanxi Fleet was scattered about to monitor for piracy and Secessionist activity. With Golden Beacon on our side for now, a token anti-piracy crew could be left in the periphery while the bulk of the forces around the region could be focused on defending from an invasion coming from the Fumitan System. Reinforcements from the Solar System and Arcturus Fleet would take time to properly mobilize, given the amount of things they were responsible for. Until then, Shanxi was on its own.

"Before we close off the session, I have one last bit of good news." Admiral Hauberk suddenly announced, grabbing my attention away from my thoughts. "I've received confirmation from both Central and Shanxi Congress, that the Cassafaronga Facility will begin reactivating the Mothball Fleet, with the first few ships back in operational order within a few weeks' time."

Hearing that, I leaned towards my friend, who had also been roused from his stupor by the announcement.

"I know were kind of clawing for whatever advantage we can get... but the Mothball Fleet?" I asked, a little incredulous. "Are we really already that desperate?"

"I don't know about desperate." Verns mused, leaning towards me in his seat so that he could keep his voice low. "But it can't hurt to have some extra backup, even if they are older hulls."

"Yeah... but, come on! Like, what's in storage over there? Schnee Class Destroyers and Gambol Class Cruisers." I pointed out. "They're older than even the Mors, and that old battleship was commissioned way back in the middle of the Secession Crisis!"

"True." Verns agreed before offering a counterargument. "But beggars can't exactly be choosers, now can we?"

"Hey, I'm just saying... the time and effort spent reactivating those old clunkers could be better used retrofitting and upgrading our current fleet of Currans and Chariots."

Before Verns could argue further, the Admiral ended the session, dismissing us all from the auditorium.

"Well, if you feel so strongly about the matter, the Admiral is right there." Verns said as he got up. "I, for one, would rather not hear his voice for the rest of the day."

My friend swiftly retreated from the auditorium and I begrudgingly had to agree with his words. Three hours of listening to Admiral Hauberk drone on and on about things I already knew had given me my fill for the week. Keeping my opinion to myself would probably be for the best, anyways.

"For what it's worth, I agree with you...partially." Bullow said as she too got up from her seat. "Prioritizing upgrades for the entire Shanxi Fleet would do us good, but it won't help us much once we start taking loses."

"Fair enough." I shrugged and sighed as I got up from my own seat and followed Bullow out. "But I'm still iffy on how much help a bunch of warships almost as old as my grandad can actually give us."

"An understandable concern..." The still acting-captain of the Risima sympathized with my point of view. "...but we already know that the shields on the alien warships have a hard time blocking naval grade beam cannons. Even if the Mothballed Fleet isn't as capable as we'd like it to be, the quantity they bring to the field is still a quality of it's own."

It was now my turn to nod along in partial agreement. Yeah, that does make sense... but I can't say the explanation put me at ease. I really, really felt bad for whoever got the orders to crew those old clunkers.

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Author's Notes:

Apologies for the extra late update. Got hit with a double whammy of being busy for the past few weeks and wanting to add more to the chapter while not being sure what to add that wouldn't just be retreading stuff already covered, or would be better covered in later chapters. Pretty sure this chapter is the shortest in the entire story so far. Things will pick up the pace next chapter though, I promise, fr, ong.

On another note, I'm currently collating some more of my notes, focusing on the Citadel side of the Galaxy. I've been super focused on the Turians and the Humans so far (which is intentional, because I really really don't want to get sidetracked by covering everything) so I thought it'd be nice to share some added context to the rest of this version of the Mass Effect Galaxy. If you don't really care about these things, that's fine. I still try to make sure as much as possible that people can read, understand, and enjoy the story without knowing everything about the universe. Knowing the lore will just add extra depth to that enjoyment. Still not sure when I'd want to upload these notes though. Thinking of dropping it after the current 'arc' ends around Episode 12, but I'm not adverse to having it out sooner.

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THIS WORK IS CROSSPOSTED IN FFNET AND AO3