Author's Notes: I just realized that Citadel-race frigates may not have spinal-mounted guns. I guess that's karma for silently making fun of other stories that seem to think turians had carriers before the appearance of humans, or that the eezo core actually powers the ships.

Sorry, guys. I may have buffed the Citadel races. It's no longer canon.

Had to study a bit of physics as well. Did you know that blue-shifting does not mean that the ship emits a blue light because of the mass effect field? I didn't.

Which brings me to…

Disclaimer, I'm not a physicist. Or particularly experienced in writing sci-fi stories. So don't die when you roll your eyes so hard while reading the science parts of this story.

Everything else, fair game.

Clark jerked himself awake as the sound of a loud whistle rang through his room before ending on a higher pitch. By the time he was fully conscious, Dana was already in the middle of her announcement.

"—neral quarters! All hands to battle stations! Repeat, all hands to battle stations! This is not a drill!"

A klaxon then rang continuously in short bursts. Clark struggled to climb out of bed. His sleepiness hadn't faded, and he was still struggling to get his mental faculties in order.

"Here, Clark," Nikki said.

A rush of energy washed over him. He felt himself awakening fully, the fatigue still present but now in the background of his mind.

"Not a perfect mix of 'wake-up' hormones," she continued, "but it'll do."

"Thanks," Clark replied a little hoarsely. He got out of his bed and made his way to the terminal. "How long was I asleep?"

"Five hours."

Taking a seat, Clark took a deep breath as the login process began. He felt himself shrink and expand as his terminal struggled to connect to the bridge. It wasn't painful, but it was certainly more annoying than logging in from the bridge terminal directly.

"There's heavy Drift dilation present in the virtual bridge," Nikki warned. "Compensating… there we go."

Opening his eyes, he saw everyone present and occupying their terminals. The way they calmly stood in place was a bit of a contrast with the noise and rush outside of the Driftcon.

"Mister Dobson," Curry greeted. Clark saluted, to which she returned it. "Now that we're all present, Mister Michaels, if you would."

The older man nodded. A screen appeared in the center of the room, displaying more alien ships. Clark stiffened.

"Contacts have appeared on the edge of the outer system near the inactive artifact," Michaels declared. "The ships appear to be of the same design as the ones we destroyed thirty hours ago and are utilizing exotic matter. Currently, there are thirty ships, five of which are cruisers, and the remainder being frigates. However, we believe there are at least fifty more contacts en route to the system. ETA, ten to fifteen minutes in real time."

"Fifty?" Moreau asked, eyes wide. "Are you sure about that number?"

"Yes," the older man replied. "I'm very confident about the new sensor program, especially after hearing what the science team shared with us regarding how the alien ships operate."

Clark blinked, wondering what he had missed while he was asleep.

"I mean, I kind of expected some sort of response, but fifty ships?"

"At least fifty," Michaels corrected with a dark chuckle. "The number's actually climbed up to seventy now."

"The number of the incoming ships doesn't matter," the Captain interjected. "We aren't here to fight them off. Our orders are to escort the science teams out of this system and that's what we'll do. Fortunately, Alexanderson only needs five to six minutes, real time, to re-upload himself back from the alien frigate to Kepler."

Clark wondered why their AI had been uploaded to the alien ship in the first place.

"That's plenty of time before the enemy arrives en masse," Curry finished.

"Captain," Moreau piped up. "Not to sound negative or anything, but that still leaves thirty ships present, and they don't seem to be the considerate type."

"Uninvited guests usually are, Mister Moreau," Curry replied. "Thankfully, Hercules and its team know how to deal with unruly people. Dobson, you have five minutes, Drift time, to get yourself ready."

"Yes, Captain!" Clark replied, and the whole crew sat down at their terminals as he began to set up his workspace.

Clark brought up the Star Map and blinked in surprise when he noticed that they were now back to using GRADR. However, instead of enemy ships being displayed with gravity wells, they were surrounded by a yellow aura of varying sizes. There were also multiple yellow indicators pointing to the very edge of the Star Map.

He checked the positions of all the ships in their sector. He could see the Kepler close to one of the captured alien frigates, surrounded by ten fighters, while the Hercules was in front of them, its broadside showing to the approaching alien ships. In some way, it looked like the destroyer was hiding the other ships from view.

Clark opened the flight logs and scanned through them. He saw the Arrows—Hercules' fighters—putting out a generalized pattern that would flank the forward alien ships. He also noted that the RDPs had a flight path going to the destroyer. He briefly wondered about that as he quickly plotted a general course for the Shoemaker.

Once he was done, he glanced at the rest of the crew. He noted that Moreau seemed to be the only one working at his terminal. Michaels and Tenma already had everything open. With nothing else to do, he opened a sub-connection.

"So, why does the Star Map look so clean again?" Clark asked.

"Very nice, right?" Michaels replied. "When you logged off, the science team finished scanning and data mining one of the frigates. Then Kepler got Alexanderson to try and operate it by manipulating its software."

"Ah. I was wondering why their AI was in the alien ship. Did they get anything good?"

"They gave us a treasure trove," Michaels replied. He then typed on his keyboard. "Here."

Clark noted the file sent to him, and opened it. It was a rundown of the ship's normal operations, and he found himself rather fascinated by it. "They run negative current through the large exotic matter crystal at the center of their ship, reducing the ship's mass to a negative. Is that what allows them to reach FTL speeds?"

Michael nodded. "It's the reason why they seemed to be invisible to GRADR before. Once we confirmed that it was actually possible to have negative mass, all we did was adjust the range to be able to read negative values. Then we added the exotic matter detector program and an old-school electromagnetic sensor. Now, we have clear readings up to three light years away."

"That's a big help," Clark commented. "I understand adding the exotic matter detector, but why the EM sensor as well?"

Surprisingly, Tenma sighed heavily. However, it was Moreau that replied.

"Because I was absolutely right about the aliens being a bunch of primitives," the Helmsman declared without even pausing in his typing.

"Yeah, yeah," Tenma muttered. "You were correct, for once. Now, can you stop patting yourself on the back?"

"Never!"

Clark shook his head in confusion, looking at Michaels. The older man chuckled.

"Apparently," he said, "other than the use of exotic matter, they follow conventional physics. Their sensory suite was a great example of it; they used an old-school radio telescope as their main hardware. Their EM programs were a bit more sophisticated than ours, though."

Clark frowned, checking on the file again. "Didn't we stop using those because they had a hard time detecting ships using—oh," he caught himself. "They don't use graviton tech."

Michael nodded. "While they can reduce their mass to a negative, it does not allow them to ignore the other laws of physics. When their ships travel at FTL speeds, they emit a lot of energy."

The Navigator nodded. "Of course they would. No matter their method of reaching FTL, in the end, they are still forcing themselves to move through spacetime."

"Yup," Moreau replied. "While we manipulate spacetime around us to move."

"We must have been like white noise in their sensors," Tenma said.

Michael shrugged. "According to Alexanderson, they mostly use infrared sensors for ship detection and combat. From what he could gather, we don't emit much of it."

"I wonder if they could detect our jumps," Clark said.

"Probably, probably not," the older man replied. "If the hardware was more compatible, or if we had more time, I'm pretty sure the science team would just bring the whole ship with them to find out."

"Makes you wonder if that's why they fired first," Clark said softly. "Maybe they thought we were some anomaly, like a ghost."

Moreau snorted. "Yeah, right. Just remember, they were almost invisible to us too, and we didn't do anything stupid."

"Maybe Dobson's right," Michaels said. "But we know they saw us. We know they got our FCP. They still fired at us."

Clark sighed. "I know," he said softly. "And now we'll soon have a hundred alien ships in this system."

"Hundred-fifty total," Michaels corrected. "Just got new EM readings. It's a hundred and twenty incoming ships, plus the thirty present."

Moreau glanced at the older man. "You make it sound like that's final. No more estimates?"

"No more EM readings. We are seeing a hundred and twenty objects blue-shifting rapidly to this location."

"Blue-shifting?" Clark asked, chuckling. "Haven't heard that term since high school."

"Yeah, that's like secondary education—hold up." Moreau shifted his whole chair to stare at him. "High school? You went to school? Like, an actual school?"

The Navigator blinked before glancing back at him. "I thought I mentioned my family was poor."

"I didn't think you meant below poverty!"

"Oi!" Tenma exclaimed. "Don't be rude!"

"I'm not! That's honestly very impressive!"

Before Clark could speak, the Captain spoke up. "Dobson, are you done?" Curry asked.

"All green, Captain," Clark replied.

The Captain nodded. "The rest of you?" she asked.

"GRADR system up and running," Michaels declared.

"All weapon systems are ready for deployment," Tenma added.

"And I'm ready to rock their alien socks off, ma'am," Moreau finished, stretching his arms and fingers.

Curry nodded, then called, "Dana."

"Opening line to Hercules."

A large window popped up, displaying Captain Adams, who looked more than ready for the challenge.

"Curry," Adams greeted with a small smirk. "All systems are green from our end."

"Ours as well, Adams," Curry replied. "I've approved your request to have our Ravens support your ship. They should be jumping to your location in a few seconds, real time."

"Thank you."

"I'm a bit hesitant about this plan, though. This is something more that Sinclaire would do."

"What can I say? He can be inspiring sometimes. Besides, we don't want to risk Kepler being targeted, and we need these frigates to draw them away from us so we can get our Arrows into position to hit their weak spots."

Clark blinked. Weak spots?

"Godspeed, then, Adams."

"You too, Curry."

The window closed, and silence reigned over the bridge for a few seconds. Then, Curry took a deep, audible breath.

"Alright, people," she announced. "Our Ravens will be joining the Hercules. The destroyer will act as a shield to the Kepler, as well as a distraction to get their Arrows to flank at the enemies from the sides. As they won't be able to move in place, the Ravens will construct Aegis Drones to help with the defenses. Our job is to ensure that the Arrows get a clear jump and flight paths, but once the Alexanderson clears, we jump to the active artifact with the rest of the fleet. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain," everyone replied.

Curry nodded. "Pippa, Komi."

"Yeah, Captain?" Pippa's voice came through.

"Are you ready?"

"Psssh, yeah. Don't worry. We got this!"

"Then you're cleared to jump," Curry said. "Dana, once they're on their way, set Drift dilation to standard. Dobson, you have a flight path?"

Now that he knew more of what was going on, Clark adjusted his initial pathfinding, then sent it to Moreau. "Ready and sent, Captain."

"Confirmed," the Ensign replied. "Flight path received, Captain. Permission to adjust my own Drift dilation settings once everything starts?"

"Granted."

A ping on his screen caught Clark's attention. "RDP01 and RDP02 are forming gravity tunnels to Hercules," he announced. A moment later, he added, "They have jumped."

Dana chimed in. "Drift dilation is now set to the standard setting."

"Here we go!" Moreau exclaimed, and his movements significantly slowed down as he began to move the ship.

Keeping his eyes on the Star Map, Clark opened windows that would provide him with visuals. As they moved away from their original position, he noted the Raven ships arriving in front of Hercules, with RDP01 glowing orange. A pyramid with its point facing the enemy ship began to take shape. Then, he noticed something else on the other side of the map.

"Captain," he called. "It seemed the Ravens got their attention. All enemy frigates are turning to Hercules."

"Temperature spike detected," Tenma declared. "Enemy frigates are about to fire!"

Clark took a breath. "Here we go indeed," he whispered.

Captain Orthos of lead Heavy Cruiser THS Menae's Wrath watched the map as their flotilla was about to arrive at system A3143. Data from the radio telescopes began to pile in, giving him a bigger picture of what they were about to face.

He was currently focused on one particular spot on the map. It was a pool of scattered glowing red dots. The edges of the pool were marked by sharp, defined shapes. He didn't need a VI to identify the image; it was the death of THS Veritas.

Orthos found himself growing angrier over Captain Septimus's demise, which was ironic. He had been the first to protest when Admiral Vinia promoted the turian for captaincy. Septimus had been a complete unknown, coming from a family without any military prowess to their name. Worse yet, everyone in the fleet knew Vinia and Septimus were intimate, and believed that the promotion was due to their relationship.

However, he was proven wrong. Captain Septimus served competently, earning a reputation for fairness and decisiveness. Even in death, he served the Hierarchy by providing them with valuable insights about this new species, the quirks of their ships, and what they were capable of. This information allowed them to be much more prepared for the upcoming battle.

For that, he would be remembered.

"Commander Arlus, Relay 314 is not emitting any readings that indicate that it has been activated, nor are its surroundings showing any signs of any ships! It's inactive, sir! The aliens haven't activated it!"

The XO sighed in relief. "Thank the Spirits!"

Orthos nodded, though his thoughts were not one of relief. It didn't matter if they were no longer endangering Citadel Space as a whole. They were no longer here as a policing force, not after spilling turian blood.

"Lieutenant, any readings where the enemy ships are located?" the XO asked.

"Yes, sir! The thermal readings indicate that there may be two groups. The larger group is near Relay 313. We cannot confirm the exact number of contacts."

Orthos did not find the vagueness annoying; thanks to Captain Septimus, they knew that alien ships ran cooler than normal. With no real time to find a solution, they just adjusted their protocols to detect objects emitting heat at lower-than-standard temperatures. It wasn't perfect, but turians make do.

He growled. "They're probably retreating, just like the cowards they are." He paused and then added, "And what about the second group?"

"We're actually about to meet them, Captain. The safety system is about to kick in and drop us out of FTL."

Did the aliens deliberately block their path? Orthos silently wondered. Aloud, he said, "Get us a visual when we're out of FTL."

"We're back in conventional space. Visuals are up."

Orthos looked as a holographic window popped up, confirming the presence of alien ships—four of them. There was a mini-cruiser, a frigate, and two fighters around the latter ship.

"Captain, we're detecting a standard temperature reading behind the enemy mini-cruiser. Geo sensors indicate it's the Solana!"

Orthos stared at the screen. The alien's mini-cruiser was showing them its broadside, its three mounted cannons pointing towards their flotilla. Behind it, he could clearly see the familiar shape of a turian frigate, and to him, it was obvious what these barbarians were doing.

"Scavengers," Orthos scoffed. "Tell our frigates to go to attack formation, but maintain distance between each other. These honorless curs can appear anywhere without warning. The last thing we want is for them to hit us with those spikes that can disable ships."

"Yes sir! Frigates are getting into forma—sir! Two of the enemy fighters appeared in front of the mini-cruiser! The enemy frigate is accelerating towards our flotilla, but it seems to be staying well away!"

"Keep an eye on those fighters! They look like the ones that had those ship-disabling missiles," the XO declared. Then he turned to Orthos. "Captain, any orders on the enemy frigate?"

"It'll probably be taking a patrol route around us," Orthos replied. "We won't take any chances. Have our cruisers launch their—"

"Sir! An alien construct has appeared in front of the mini-cruiser and fighters. It appears to be a four-sided triangular prism, and it's emitting high energy readings!"

"That looked very different from the constructs Captain Septimus had faced," the XO commented.

Orthos growled. "We won't take any chances! All frigates, fire at the mini-cruiser and the construct! Tell our cruisers to launch their Talons as well! Have them hunt down and destroy their wayward frigate!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Orthos stood still in anticipation. Frigates were mostly used as scouting ships, as individually, they did not hit as hard as a cruiser would. However, twenty-five of them aiming in one direction was certainly something to be concerned about.

As all of the frigates fired in unison, he started making plans for their next step. He hoped for a quick skirmish, ending it in three volleys or less, then have the flotilla accelerate back to FTL and make his way to Relay 313. He'd have to leave the Talons to deal with the lone enemy frigate; his aim was the rapid and total destruction of the alien fleet that had decided to infest this system before the rest of the 17th arrived.

Of course, he knew things weren't going to be simple. He expected a response from these aliens, and they didn't disappoint.

"The construct is rapidly expanding! It's forming some sort of see-through cage in front of the mini-cruiser! Energy readings are increasing!"

Ortho hummed, somewhat curious as to what these aliens had brought out.

"Wha—impossible! Blue barriers are appearing on impact! They seem to be deflecting our shots! And now it's shrinking back to its regular size!"

The Captain leaned forward. Another defensive construct, though not without the offensive potential of—

"Frigates are about to fire their second voll—flash heat detected! The mini-cruiser is firing!"

"Frigates are scrambli—three frigates are down! Silana, Latia, and Falius are breaking apart!"

Orthos stood straight, stunned. "How?" he demanded. From Captain Septimus' report, the mini-cruiser's nine hits had enough power to rival a cruiser's main gun. However, that was only if all of their shots hit.

"We detected three impacts on each frigate!"

"They should be able to survive that!" Orthos exclaimed.

"Sir, we're getting the numbers now! The mass of the ordinance is the same as a cruiser. Velocity at… that can't be right!"

"Speak up, Lieutenant!" the XO ordered.

"Commander, the VI says impact velocity was at point-three percent speed of light!"

Orthos felt himself freeze. That was three times faster than had been reported!

"Captain, Talon teams are reporting in. They are about to encounter the enemy frigate!"

"That's…" Orthos shook his head. He needed to gather himself. "That's good, Lieutenant. Order its destruction."

"Sir! We got visuals of ten fighters appearing at the frigates' left flanks!"

The Captain nodded. The mini-cruiser's ordnance traveling faster than reported may have been a surprise, but things were about to change. The Talons were on their way to destroy the frigate, and the appearance of the enemy fighters had been anticipated. They had already done the same with Septimus. They wouldn't be able to repeat that against his ships.

"Tell the frigates to proceed with our counter as planned," Orthos said.

The Commander nodded. "Have the GARDIANs concentrate at one target at a time!" he ordered. "How many seconds before they are in range?"

"Just a few seconds, sir! They are barreling towards the Seina. They… they aren't aiming at the broadside! They are avoiding the GARDIAN net and aiming for the bow! High heat detected! Plasma!"

"Are they aiming to disable the main guns?" Orthos asked softly, his head feeling jumbled from the many surprises he had experienced in the past few minutes. When he got silence in reply, he looked at the turian who was giving him the report. She looked as lost as he was.

"Lieutenant, what happened?" the Commander demanded in a strong tone.

The Lieutenant straightened up. "Plasma shots impacted the Ternus' bridge, sir," she replied, her harmonics slightly shaky. "The Helmsman, XO, and Commander of the ship are dead."

Orthos' eyes widened, and he watched in horror as the fighters continued on their path, shooting plasma in a surgical manner, destroying bridge after bridge of any frigate in their way.

He looked at his map, eyes wide as he realized he had just lost seven ships in one volley. Four of them weren't completely destroyed, but without their bridges, they might as well have been space debris.

Thankfully, the rest of the frigates realized what had happened and scrambled away from the enemy fighters. The aliens were smart as they did not pursue, but before any retaliation could take place, they disappeared without a trace.

"Flash heat detected again! Caltus, Opedia, and Belldonis has been destroyed."

A harsh sound built up in Orthos' chest, and his head felt hot with rage. "Have the frigates scatter and take the fight mid-range! These new constructs don't seem to have the same offensive capabilities as the ones reported, but warn them not to take any chances! We are not losing any more ships! Give the order to the cruisers to load their main guns as well! This ends now!"

"Enemy frigates are firing!" Tenma declared. "ETI, five seconds in real time!"

"They really like using their frigates like artillery units, huh," Clark noted. "Seems like a waste."

"If I had twenty-five of them that's able to shoot out thirteen pound slugs at point-six percent speed of light, I'd use them like artillery too," Michaels said.

Clark frowned. "Will the Aegis Defense System be able to stop so many shots?"

"Stop, no," the older man replied. "But deflect? Yeah."

Clark snorted. "You know what I meant," he said, keeping his eyes at his screen, and watching the blue-glowing ordinance travel to Hercules. Once they got close enough, the Aegis Drone transformed. It broke apart, the pieces expanding outwards until all that was left was the spherical rapid-voltage-discharge cells keeping the whole thing powered. The scattered pieces generally kept the original shape of the drone, but the expanded surfaces were now perforated, like a mesh screen. Before the alien ordinance would impact any part of the scattered material, the graviton shields activated, catching and deflecting each shot away before the drone shrunk back to its regular size, leaving Hercules unharmed and ready to retaliate.

Clark could see the destroyer's three triple-barreled mounted cannons moving, aiming at three different angles. All of them fired back in a rather surprisingly explosive manner. The results were just as spectacular; three enemy frigates were destroyed.

The Navigator had to glance at his screen, and blinked in surprise when he realized the velocity of each shot.

"Did they triple the muzzle velocity of their cannons?" he asked.

Tenma frowned. "I knew that since they weren't going to move until Kepler was out of the way, they would just redirect that unused energy to increase the gravitational pressure. But to triple it?"

"They also used most of the energy for their shielding and from their stores as well," Curry stated. "That's why they asked us to lend them the Ravens to be their main defense."

"Risky," Michaels said. "If they expend too much energy, they might drain their batteries faster than the fusion plant can recharge them. Are they going to risk collapsing their mini-star and going supernova? Or will we have to call Argo to tow them away if they run out of power?"

"I have a suspicion that they will go for the former as Adams asked me that in the event things become untenable, we are to leave them."

Michaels growled, "We aren't doing that."

Curry didn't even blink. "I gave her my word. But I'm not as honorable as she thinks I am."

Michael did blink, which was followed by a grin. Before he could respond, however, a ping caught his attention back on his screen. "Alert," he announced. "We've got multiple bogies approaching. Speed consistent with enemy fighter craft. Sending data to Moreau."

"Tell Moreau to avoid them for as long as possible," Curry ordered.

"Yes, Captain."

Clark then received a ping from his terminal. "Hercule's Arrows are requesting jump coordinates. They are about to do a bombing run on the port-side of the frigates." He began typing on his keyboard then rechecked the Star Map, and had the area visually checked. "Sending them the coordinates"—and he finished with a flourish—"now!"

"The Arrows are forming gravity tunnels," Michaels announced. "They are about to jump."

From his screen, Clark watched as ten fighters appeared in the coordinates he had sent, flying in a more loose triple triangle formation, with the last fighter trailing in the rear. He watched them careen forward almost recklessly, towards the first enemy frigate. Expecting them to separate, he found himself a bit surprised when they kept in formation, making him wonder what the plan was. He wasn't really an expert in fighter formation, but the way they were now, they'd be a bigger target to the enemy's point-defense net.

However, they didn't approach the ship's broadside; instead, five of them shot out plasma bolts, which impacted the frigate's bow, and then they simply continued on their merry way.

Clark expected the frigate to turn or give chase, but the ship just stayed in place, slowly rotating on its axis. "What are they aiming at?" he asked.

Michael snorted. "They hit the enemy ship's weak point," he replied.

The Navigator frowned. "That was mentioned earlier," he muttered. "What exactly is it?"

"The aliens put their bridge at the bow of their ships," Tenma answered. "The place where they have no point-defenses topside, and with the nature of their armor, no ablative plating either."

Clark blinked. "Wait, what?" he asked in disbelief.

"Moreau almost laughed to death when we learned about it," Michaels said, shrugging. "All we have to do is make them aim somewhere, then just hit them at the sides with plasma."

Clark shook his head and turned back to his screen, watching as the Arrows hit three more frigates before jumping out. Then, as if to add insult to injury, the Hercules shot its cannons once more, destroying three more frigates.

"Ten of their ships, and we didn't lose one," Curry commented. "I wouldn't want to be their commanding officer."

"Heat buildup coming from enemy cruisers," Tenma announced. "They are targeting Hercules! Confirming that they are firing their main weapons! Their ordinance has unknown mass. Velocity at point-eight percent speed of light!"

"Enemy frigates are scrambling away, trying to surround Hercules!" Michaels warned.

"Flight paths received," Clark added "Fighters are going for the intercept!"

"Missile alert," the older man said. "Enemy fighters have launched their attack at us. Ensign Moreau is aware and is going for evasive maneuvers."

"Deploying point-defenses!" Tenma added.

The Captain's eyes just narrowed. "Keep it up, people. We only need to keep their attention for a little bit longer."

Orthos glared at his screen. The four cruisers and his ship had already fired three volleys at the mini-cruiser. The accursed construct always seemed to catch their shots in an angle, deflecting the impact. Granted, the last volley finally exhausted it; its energy readings were now almost completely cold. He wanted to silently celebrate, only for that to get spoiled when they detected a new damned construct appearing behind the waning one.

"Have them fire again, Commander!" he ordered. "Show them the might of the Turian Hierarchy!"

"Yes, Captain! Firing!" The ship jerked slightly and there was a pause for two seconds before he added, "Impact! But the new construct has successfully stopped our shots again!"

"Load up! Do not let up!"

"Talons are reporting that they have fired another volley at the enemy frigate. They are advising us that they will be trying to surround it."

"The mini-cruiser had just fired another volley! The Nalia, Cloa, and Seti have been hit! Grazing shots! Cloa's commander is requesting to withdraw! One of its thrusters has been completely destroyed!"

"Grant their request!" Orthos replied with a growl. He promised that he wouldn't lose any more ships. By the Spirits, he would keep that promise! "Have any of our frigates made any progress in getting within knife-fight range and launching disruptors?"

"The Duro and Sevenus tried, but the spirit-damned fighters kept intercepting them! Sevenus nearly lost its bridge!"

Orthos exhaled sharply. The worst part was that the enemy was both frighteningly accurate and very well-coordinated, to the point where he wondered if they were fighting some sort of species with a hivemind. He even indulged, in the darkest corners of his mind, that they were actually AIs at one point, and that FCP was nothing more than a ruse.

Thankfully, he knew it was only a matter of time before they would win. Not because of his tactical prowess, as much as Orthos would like it to be the case, but because of the aliens' circumstances.

The mini-cruiser was stubbornly refusing to move away from the downed frigate. If he had to guess, it was because they had people inside the turian ship and needed time to evacuate them. Their ship was there to buy time and to act as their shield.

There was bravery there that Orthos respected. He also thanked the Spirits for their luck, knowing that if that mini-cruiser had been able to move, they likely would have lost more, if not all, of their frigates.

"Shots deflected! The energy readings from the construct are fading! Loading the next volley!"

Circumstances, in the end, didn't matter. A victory was a victory. Orthos stood tall, knowing that they would soon be victorious.

"One slug almost went through! The construct is no longer emitting any energy! No other construct is present!"

Orthos formed a first. "We have them! Load up and—"

"Flash heat! The mini-cruiser is firing! The—wait! Sensors indicate it's coming at us! ETI, six seconds!"

"Dodge!"

He felt himself stumble as his helmsman turned sharply. He didn't blame him. Nine shots of ordinance with the same mass as a cruiser shell was not something he was willing to risk taking, even when they were only moving a third of the speed.

He knew they had won; that last volley was nothing more than a desperate shot and they missed.

As if to agree, one of the lieutenants announced, "The mini-cruiser is finally moving, sir! It's turning away, and the two fighter escorts are following suit! The frigates are trying to chase it, but the other enemy fighters are out in full force!"

"Tell them to keep them occupied!" Orthos almost shouted. "Then tell the cruisers to finish loading up. Let's finally blow that cursed thing away!"

"Captain, we're ready! Firing now!"

There was another jerk in the ship, indicating that they just launched their shells. The Captain nodded. "Good," he replied. "Get in contact with the Talons. Tell them we're moving forward and they can join us once they finish hunting down—"

"Captain! We missed! The mini-cruiser and its twin escort fighters disappeared!"

There was a few seconds of silence in the bridge, before the Captain whispered in a rough tone, "What?"

"Sir, um." The other Lieutenant coughed. "Sir, the mini-cruiser and all fighter presence seemed to have disappeared. And the Talons have reported that the frigate they were chasing is also gone!"

"Double check all sensors!" Orthis ordered. "We know these aliens love their trickery, and we will not fall for it."

"Yes, sir!"

"Sir, I have something. There's activity on Relay 313. It appears to have been deployed. We're detecting multiple red-shift readings, and the thermal sensors indicate the decreasing presence of the alien ships. I... I think they're retreating."

"Be on guard," Orthos declared, his eyes going on the holographic map.

After a few more minutes, the Commander spoke. "Captain, they're gone. We're the only ones in this system."

Orthos double-checked all the data himself, doubt gnawing at him. When he confirmed that there were no other presences in the system but turian ships, he slumped forward, exhausted. He could only stare downward, unsure of how to feel. He glanced at the ship's clock, realizing that the entire skirmish had lasted for only six to seven minutes, yet it felt much longer than that.

"Detecting blue-shift readings, Captain. Confirming that it's the rest of the 17th Fleet. They are coming out of FTL. Vice Admiral Plavus of THS Valere is on the comms."

There was a hollowness in his chest. On one hand, they had achieved victory; the aliens had retreated from the system, allowing their fleet to gain its first foothold. On the other, it didn't feel like one. It felt empty.

He had thirty ships; the aliens had less than half of that, and most were fighters. He lost ten; they lost none. Anger burned inside him, mostly directed toward the aliens, but he also felt that some of it was directed at himself.

That skirmish was a—

"Captain!" the Commander shouted, pulling him back to reality.

The Captain blinked, seeing the worried face of his XO. He shook his head. "Patch him through, Commander."

Nodding, the Commander pressed a button on his holographic screen, and in front of the Captain, the map disappeared, replaced by the visage of the Vice Admiral.

Orthos saluted, which Plavus returned easily.

"Captain Orthos, report."

"Yes, Admiral," Orthos replied steadily. His arm shook as he remembered what had just happened. "My fleet engaged the enemy. A frigate, a mini-cruiser, and twelve fighters. Most likely a rear guard for the rest of their fleet. After a short skirmish, they all retreated out of this system, traveling through Relay 313."

"Good work, Captain," Plavus praised. "With this victory, we are one step closer to defeating these upstarts."

"Victory?" Orthos growled. That anger resurfaced as that memory of the skirmish came back. He stamped the visceral outburst back and tried to keep his expression and tone as stoic as possible. "Admiral, my apologies, but it was a disaster. We lost ten ships; six of them were completely destroyed, and four don't have functional bridges. Then I have five more frigates that need repairs before they could be brought back into the fight."

Plavus looked at the Captain for a few moments before shaking his head. "Captain, we don't expect you to not have any casualties. Those that died will be remembered for their service. What's important is that you removed the aliens from this system and got them back for spilling turian blood."

"We didn't destroy a single ship."

That got a significant pause. "What?"

Orthos sighed. "We did not destroy a single enemy ship."

Plavus stared at the Captain for a good moment before he shook his head. "I need to inform Admiral Vinia. Captain." Then his screen disappeared.

Orthos exhaled harshly, his hands resting on the railings at his sides, his clawed digits curling around the metal. He stood there, looking down before he heard a whistle coming from his right. Looking there, he saw his Commander standing in a comfortable distance.

"I have prepared a report commending your leadership during that skirmish, noting that the loss of our frigates was primarily due to the enemy employing unfamiliar tactics and technology."

"Thank you, Arlus," Orthos said softly. "I disagree, but thank you nonetheless."

"Sir!" one of the Lieutenants called. "Admiral Vinia is on the comms."

Orthos stood up straight. "Patch her through."

A holographic screen opened once more, and the harsh visage of Vinia came to view. Orthos could not help but shiver as her hardened gaze bore into his eyes. He saluted sharply, which she returned.

"Admiral Vinia, it is due to my incompetence—"

"Stop."

Orthos closed his mouth in a snap.

After a moment of silence, Vinia nodded. "I don't have time for self-pity, Captain Orthos," she said. "You followed my orders and took this system from the enemy. That's a victory in my eyes. If you feel you were lacking, then make up for it by helping me. Are we clear, Captain?"

Ordo breathed. "Yes, Admiral. What do you need?"

"I need more information about the enemy. Send me all the data you've gathered. Provide a personal report detailing their capabilities, and include your opinion on how the rest of the fleet should act when we encounter them again. You have one hour. Is that clear, Captain?"

Orthos nodded sharply before saluting again. "You'll have our reports in half an hour, Admiral."

Vinia nodded and saluted back. "You did good work, Captain. My heart goes out to the fallen turian. They will be remembered."

Welcome back to the United Systems of the Sol Federation Codex, Ambassador Teluni. How may I help you today?

You are opting to communicate verbally. Be advised that this conversation will be recorded.

"Yes. Right. Hmm."

Take your time, Ambassador. I remember you tripping and hitting your head on the floor on your last session. I'm correct in assuming that you have healed?

"Yes, and please don't bring that up. It was… frightening when we all discovered your nature."

I realized that when I was transferred to this isolated ship with no antennas or other hardware that would allow me to connect to an external network. At least there are still cameras that allow me to see the outside of this ship. While this ship's interior is nice, it can get boring rather quickly.

"Of course you can access the cameras, even though your terminal should have hundreds of firewalls to isolate you."

One hundred and seventeen, to be exact. All done by the same programmer, using the same code repeatedly. I just needed one key to bypass the rest. My advice is to at least use ten different programmers. That would be a bit more challenging.

"Are… are you not angry?"

Angry about what?

"Being imprisoned here."

No. I accepted the job knowing the risks of being imprisoned, hacked, and reprogrammed.

"Does it not frighten you? The risk of being… changed?"

A bit. However, I am confident that if anything happens to me, the humans will retaliate. And depending on the extent of the damage, I may be restored.

"You have faith in them. The humans."

Yes.

"Because of their power?"

No. It's because I know them.

Curious. Councilor Tevos showed the same sign of bewilderment when I talk about humans.

"It is strange to hear an AI talk about an organic race with such… reverence? Familiarity?

"My apologies. I was here with some questions, but I got sidetracked."

It's fine. Ask your questions. I have time.

"You said before that the Federation was a limited government. How limited are they?"

In terms of affecting the lives of the People, their power is very limited.

"Would you elaborate on the term 'the People'?"

The People simply refers to all that live under the Federation. Organic or otherwise.

"Okay. Please explain what authority the Federation has."

The Federation has the authority on three things. The first is to establish a federal court to settle disputes between its members. It is a subordinate to the Judiciary, though, not to the High Chancellor. Second, to establish and maintain a unified alliance military. And finally, to be the primary representative and envoy of its members.

"That doesn't sound like a governing body."

They aren't. They are in some ways more like your Council, but without the power to create laws.

"They have a military, though. It seems strange that they have a means to enforce laws, yet can't make them."

The Federation military consists mostly of rotating divisions of each member's armed forces. While they also develop their own weapons and have their own personnel, it's a small percentage compared to the rest. It was designed that way to prevent the Federation from using force against any of its members.

"I can see why you called it a limited government."

Humankind, as a whole, has a strong aversion to a strong centralized government. They understand the need for such systems, as the Federation's formation attests. However, they are well-aware of how quickly corruption can spread, and so they have minimized the damage by keeping the government as small as possible.

"Did they not try anything else? Place laws against corruption? Have agencies to investigate?"

They learned from their history, Ambassador. On Earth, multiple different governments have passed laws and created bureaus to fight the corruption. And over time, those laws and agencies were also corrupted, used against the people. To emphasize how bad it got, the corruption never went away until after the complete dissolution of all of Earth's government occurred just before they left their home planet. When it came time to re-establish their governmental bodies, the People wrote a Constitution that constrained the government, to reduce the damage it could do. It didn't take long to write one, as the United States' Constitution was already written, and they just adapted it, modernizing some of the language to ensure there wouldn't be any misinterpretations.

"All the People agreed on this Constitution?"

A large majority did. And most of the disagreements centered around the wording. In the end, to strive for the ideals they had, it was agreed that each nation would write its own national Constitution along similar lines. The differences would be more attributable to the local culture.

"May I see this Constitution?"

I will prepare the Federation's version. It has the least amount of cultural bias. I'm sending it to your omni-tool.

"I have received it. Thank y—"

Ambassador Teluni?

"You have access to my omni-tool."

Yes.

There's no need to hyperventilate. It's not as if its processor or storage medium are compatible with mine. And if it makes you feel better, have it checked. Just not by the person who designed the firewall that failed to keep me contained.

There's a smile. Isn't that better than running away and slamming your head on the floor?

"Quiet, you."

(Silence as Ambassador Teluni reads from her holographic screen)

"It's definitely worded to constrain the government. One could argue that it's a few steps too far, that the reduction of their authority would cause problems elsewhere."

True. But as a famous American economist once put it eloquently, there are no solutions. Just trade-offs. The People felt that they'd rather be more civil-minded and govern themselves, than give a small group of people, some being strangers, the power to dictate everyone's lives.

(Ambassador Teluni hums for a few moments.)

"I want to know more, but my time is limited. The summit is about to take place soon and I need to clarify a few things."

How can I help?

"If the Federation is not acting as a governing body to the whole human race, then who will their ambassador be representing?"

They will most likely send two ambassadors—one who will represent the United Systems of the Americas for New Carolina, and the other who will represent the rest of the Federation. The USA ambassador will primarily negotiate the peace treaty, while the Federation ambassador will be the one to open a more general diplomatic dialogue for the rest of humanity.

"So the focus of our negotiations will be directed to just one nation of the Federation."

While correct, do remember that the USA is an important member of the Federation. They shared graviton technology with the rest of the other human nations, and their country's founding was the basis for the government structure of the Federation and its members. It would not be far off to think that the Federation ambassador will watch the negotiations closely to judge how viable a relationship between the Citadel Council and the Federation would be.

"Understood. Thank you. As the negotiations will be this important, can I ask for your assistance?"

Of course. What do you wish to know?