A/N: Note that I've made a few adjustments to chapters 1, 3, 5, and 7. Now, it is the social and political crisis that followed the destruction of the Neema which drove the quarians to seek a new home in uncharted space, not a food crisis.
In the heart of the burgeoning colony park, under the refracted, twilight glow of sunlight pouring through the armor-glass dome above, Mark Shepard relished the sight of his boys, laughing and playing with Jeff and a few quarian children. Their laughter was infectious, filled with pure joy that melted his heart. And just a few paces away, Maeru was sitting on a bench, watching them, her arms cradling Tali, who was cocooned comfortably within her E-ball.
His lips curved into a smile. Even though the quarians' new capital, New Catyn, was under construction within a sprawling cavern just a few dozen kilometers away, some quarians had chosen to embrace their future with humanity and live amongst them. A blissful, uplifting sensation coursed through him just at the thought of such a promising future, in which both humans and quarians shared a harmonious existence that transcended the boundaries of species.
Shifting his gaze towards the horizon, he watched the tireless drones that whizzed around the massive construction project underway like diligent bees. The drones hummed with an almost musical rhythm as their nano-assemblers methodically pieced together the skeleton of a future grav rail system. When complete, it would stretch across the surrounding landscape, like a metallic vine, weaving its way through tunnel systems that would link the colony to New Catyn, to the new heart of quarian civilization.
He smiled. A bridge – both literal and symbolic – was being built right before his eyes.
However, such a bridge had to be nurtured. And that had begun after the recent meeting he and Maeru attended between the Conclave and the Colony Council. There, they had sown the seeds of a treaty fostering coexistence between their species. And already, they had approved several cultural and technological exchange programs, erecting the pillars on which their shared future would stand.
A warm, soothing sensation spread through his chest. Yes, his boys would grow up experiencing such an enriched world, with their lives intertwined with those of their quarian peers.
Yet, today's agenda held another critical step towards that future – laying the foundations for joint exercises between the local militia and the quarian marines. In the distance, he spotted Jhor'Reegar and Ulasa'Vael, two distinguished officers in the Quarian Marine Corps with whom he would be discussing this, just a few dozen feet away. Both officers were watching human and quarian children play.
He took a deep breath and began to approach them. And as he neared, their forms grew clearer and clearer.
With his towering height and striking red suit, Jhor exuded a charisma that was unmistakably military. It was a familiar aura, one he'd experienced countless times from officers in the Alliance – especially his old CO, Captain James Mercer. Yet, Jhor's stern exterior was belied by an approachable warmth that seeped through in the Qaurian's body language.
On the other hand, Ulasa'Vael had a far more relaxed demeanor. Her ensemble of white cloths shimmered in the refracted light, echoing the glow in her eyes. In their luminescent depths, he recognized the familiar determination and resilience of a true survivor.
"Ah, Mark Shepard," Ulasa began, offering her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
Meeting her firm grip with his own, he nodded. "The feeling is mutual."
Just then, a delighted squeal echoed across the park and momentarily drew Ulasa's attention. A quarian girl playing with Jeff was giddy with joy, her laughter carrying across the open space. Ulasa chuckled softly, her eyes filled with maternal love. "Keelah, it seems my daughter has taken quite a liking to that boy with the limb braces."
He smiled. Goodness, were they adorable. A few dozen feet away, he spotted Rick and Sadie sitting on a bench, watching their boy. "Oh, that boy is Jeff. He's the son of a good friend of mine."
"And those two boys over there?" Jhor asked, pointing at something in the distance.
He looked where Jhor was pointing, only to spot his sons playing a game with a quarian boy in red cloths and a matching visor. Is that your son? "Oh, those are my boys, John and Luke. They've been so eager to meet quarian children their own age. So I thought this would be a good experience for them." He cleared his throat. "I take it you two have done the same?"
"Indeed, we have," Jhor said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I think my son has made two wonderful friends today."
He smiled. He definitely has. "Tell me, what are your children's names?"
"Lia," Ulasa said, her voice filled with a mother's pride. "Lia of Clan Vael."
"Kal," Jhor said, his voice carrying a warm undercurrent. "Of Clan Reegar."
He nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. First, Tali. And now Kal and Lia. Every day, it seemed his boys were expanding their circle of alien friends.
"Well, anyway," he said. "While our children are getting to know each other, shall we take our discussion on joint training and exercises somewhere more private and comfortable?" In the distance, he spotted a pavilion that had tables and chairs under its roof. He pointed towards one such table. "Perhaps at the table over there."
"A perfect idea," Ulasa said.
Together, they went there and sat at the table under the pavilion. And for the next few hours, they engaged in a detailed discussion about joint training and exercises between the local militia and the quarian marines. They unpacked ideas, laid out strategies, and outlined the path for future collaboration, managing to connect all they'd devised to the upcoming cultural and technological exchange programs. Eventually, they brought the meeting to a close, and then Jhor and Ulasa excused themselves and left him alone with his thoughts.
He let out a long sigh. Yes, today had been so tiring, yet so meaningful as well.
Soon, he opened up his omni-tool – as quarians called it – then checked the time. Almost time for their dinner. Indeed, it was time to go home. So where were Maeru and his boys?
Standing up, he spotted Maeru sitting on a hill overlooking where his boys were still playing. There, she was cradling Tali, gazing up at the star-studded night.
Furrowing his brow, he tilted his head. Why isn't she watching them?
Suddenly, it dawned on him. Ah, must be thinking about Rael.
He walked over to Maeru, then sat right beside her. "Still thinking about your lifemate?"
Maeru sighed softly, her gaze never leaving the stars. "Yes…Keelah, not a moment goes by when he's not on my mind."
He understood that feeling all too well. The sight of Hannah's smile, the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes lit up whenever she was in a good mood – all of these haunted him just as much. "I can relate. Lately, I've been dreaming a lot of Hannah."
Maeru turned to look at him, her glowing eyes wide with surprise. "You have?"
He nodded. Goodness, even now, the memory of those dreams was still so vivid in his mind. Each started the same – he'd wake up in their bed, find Hannah in the kitchen or living room, just going about her day, as if she'd never left for Mindoir. But then he'd wake up, with the echo of her laughter still ringing in his ears, and she wouldn't be there.
A solemn silence fell over them. During it, he cast a glance at his boys, who were saying their goodbyes to Jeff, Lia, and Kal. Soon, the three left to rejoin their parents. And for a moment, his boys just stood together, staring at them.
Were they missing their mother as much as he was?
"In any case," he began, pulling himself out of a spiral of melancholy, "I guess all we can do is have faith that they'll return safe and sound. Right now, I need to be present for my boys, for the colony. And you need to do the same for Tali, for your people."
Maeru inhaled deeply, her gaze still fixed on the stars. "Agreed."
With a grunt, he pushed himself off the grass. "So let's head home. I think my boys should be very hungry by now."
He inhaled through his nose, filling his lungs with air. "Hey, boys!" he called out to them, and without hesitation, they came to him.
"Are we leaving already, daddy?" John asked.
"Indeed, we are, kiddo," he replied, ruffling his son's thick chestnut hair. "Did you have fun?"
"Oh, today was amazing!" John said, his eyes sparkling with youthful exuberance, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Kal is the best!"
"Yeah," Luke chimed in, his laughter warm and infectious. "He's really cool. He showed us this really awesome quarian game!"
Already, his boys were developing an appetite for cultural understanding. He chuckled, and the sound reverberated deep inside his chest.
"When can we play with him again, daddy?" John's voice echoed with an anticipation that tugged at his heartstrings.
"Well, I'm sure we'll arrange something soon," he said, his grin widening at the sight of his boys' eager faces. "For now, though, let's head home. I bet you two are starving."
Instantly, John's face lit up with joy. "Oooh, can you make spaghetti!" His small frame started hopping up and down like an overjoyed jackrabbit.
"Yeah, just like how mommy made it," Luke said, and his boy's innocent gaze pierced right through him.
He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Somehow, those words brought a sudden, profound emptiness to the previously festive atmosphere. Her absence was an undercurrent in their lives, a constant reminder that this family was nothing without her. Momentarily, his face fell, but quickly he masked his pain with a reassuring smile.
"Of course, boys. Of course," he said, trying to maintain an upbeat tone, but still sounding more solemn than he intended. Despite his wife's absence, he had to continue providing them with all the love and care they needed and deserved.
As they began to trudge their way out of the park, with the echoes of laughter lingering in the twilight, his wife's absence continued to gnaw at his mind. The smallest memories of her – from the way she would tuck their boys into bed, to how her skin felt against his whenever they made love – surged forward, uninvited. A chilling sensation crept up his spine and constricted his breathing. His heart ached for her touch, for her warmth, for her presence.
But he had to be strong.
For his boys.
For the colony.
For the blossoming unity between humanity and the quarian people.
He drew in a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs, then exhaled and made a silent prayer to whatever or whoever would listen. Hannah, wherever you are. Hang in there. We need you.
In the throbbing heart of Zhour's command center, Hannah Shepard watched columns of refugees streaming towards the evacuation ships on the holoscreens before her. In each column, she observed rivers of faces, etched with fear and uncertainty, streaming towards each one. Amongst them, countless mothers clutched their children, their eyes wide with terror. And the elderly stumbled their way forward, their knees weak and shaking.
Yet in every screen, she saw only fierce determination in the eyes of the soldiers protecting them.
A warm, invigorating sensation spread through her at the sight of so many of her volunteer soldiers at the forefront, guiding the masses, lending supporting arms, and offering reassuring smiles. To the people of Mindoir, they were like beacons of hope in this dark hour. The weight of the moment settled heavily on her chest.
But she would bear it with pride.
On other holo-screens, she watched Malukor Combat Engineers wielding strange, gauntlet-like devices to control swarms of drones, capable of practically bending the environment to their will. With their nano-assemblers and mass effect field projectors, the drones were building fortifications and reshaping entire landscapes, as if their masters were artists painting on a vast canvas. Every minute, structures rose and valleys flattened at their command, forging defensible positions from the natural terrain.
Even now, the quarians continued to amaze her with their technology. And after all those grueling training sessions with Khaen and Shaani, many of her volunteer soldiers had finally adapted to using it. Yes, on one holoscreen, she spotted Zaeed and Shun's platoon, alongside some quarian marines, manning some of the new barricades lined with plasma cannons.
She sighed, her breath heavy with the weight of what was to come. The Silent Ones would arrive any hour now. Her mind flashed through countless worst-case scenarios, through visions of fire, death, and destruction like what she'd seen from footage of the Silent War. And her thrashed in her chest, pumping ice-cold blood through her veins.
But then she took a deep breath. Focus. Just Focus. You'll get through this.
She turned to take in the full scope of the command center. In the middle of the room, Zhoru and his senior Sergeants huddled around a grav table, around a maze of tactical holograms. That officer with snake-like coldness, Jack Harper, and Security Cheif Akira were also participating in the discussion, alongside the commander of the quarian marines on this planet, Hairun'Vael, and the senior officers under his command.
Hairun'Vael himself was a figure of grace and authority, clad in white cloths and an environment suit teeming with extra mirror-like, armored plates, and life-support systems. Even from her position, she could feel Hairun's gravitas from the way he carried himself. And it emanated from him like the heat from a furnace.
As she continued to scan the room, Anderson approached her, his face lined with concern. "Hey…How are you holding up?"
She huffed through her nose, then searched for the right words. "Like we're standing on the edge of a cliff."
"Hey…" Anderson said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "We're prepared. We've got the best minds and the bravest soldiers the quarians have to offer. And I have no doubt we'll make it through this."
She nodded, absorbing his words like a parched plant absorbing rain. "Thanks, Anderson." She exhaled, steadying herself. "Now, how about we go see what all of them are up to?"
Yes, at least it would give her some idea of what to expect in the next few hours.
They walked up to the central grav-table, where a myriad of tactical holograms swirled before her. Though the Khelish script was indecipherable, the visual imagery told her they involved precision planning on land and joint maneuvers in space.
Better ask Zhoru.
She cleared her throat, and every Malukor officer around the grav table looked at her, their glowing red eyes narrowed.
"Ah, Khanah," Zhoru said, his voice as solid as steel. "I presume you're here to learn our defense plan?"
She nodded, readying herself. "You've presumed correctly."
"Very well then," Zhoru said. With his omni-tool, Zhoru zoomed out the hologram, showing a bird's eye view of the battlefield. "Based on the capabilities of our anti-air defenses and on the pressure our naval forces can put on the enemy with constant hit-and-run attacks, we've extrapolated every possible landing site within fifty kilometers on which enemy forces can land."
On the hologram, several sites outside the colony's outskirts glowed red.
"And based on them," Zhoru continued. "We have erected these three defensive lines through which the Silent Ones will have to pass."
On the hologram, three strips of land – with two behind the outermost one – glowed blue. Goodness…
She leaned forward closer to the hologram, marveling at the detail and precision that had gone into the defensive lines. Even now, she couldn't help but marvel at how Malukor Engineers were able to erect them so quickly.
Zhoru pointed at the first line of defense. "Our outermost line is built using nano-assembled walls and barriers, strategically shaped to funnel enemy forces into kill zones, teeming with mines and other traps. They are capable of withstanding sustained bombardments from the heaviest artillery. So the Silent Ones will have no choice but to face this array of automated defenses, from these turrets fitted with missile launchers and rapid-fire plasma canons to these drone nests and mass-accelerator turrets, all with overlapping fields of fire."
The hologram zoomed in to show the turrets' exact positioning and the labyrinthine structure of the walls, interwoven with layers of mines and traps.
"So what will happen once the enemy lands?" she asked.
Zhoru zoomed the hologram out then in, around the extrapolated enemy landing sites. "Once the enemy lands, we will thin their numbers with pre-sighted artillery bombardments and drone strikes."
On the hologram, explosions rippled around the enemy landing sites, slaughtering countless virtual Silent One constructs.
"Afterwards," Zhoru continued, zooming the hologram out, then in on the roads cutting through vast alien forests, "because of our anti-air defenses, the enemy will have no choice but to stumble through several hit-and-run ambushes we have already set up along the way, along with the continuous chaos and disruption, Sergeant Nuro, " Zhoru pointed at him, a tall, nimble Malukor with a predatory glance, "and his commandos will wreak behind enemy lines, as the enemy approaches."
One the hologram, she watched what he described play out, setting the alien forests ablaze and slaughtering hordes of Silent One constructs before they even breached the outermost defensive line. A chill settled in her bones, knowing just how horrific these defenses would be for any conventional army to face."
She gulped. "What then?"
"Once the enemy inevitably breaks through the first defensive line," Zhoru said, zooming out the hologram. In it, Silent One forces were advancing undaunted through blazing alien forests into an open field adjacent to the colony outskirts, abound with formidable defenses. "Then we will finally face the enemy head-on. Undoubtedly, they will outnumber us significantly, but their advantages will be null against the local environment."
Watching the holographic depiction before her, she marveled at the complexity of the middle defensive line. It looked like a maze of barriers, bunkers, trenches, underground tunnels, and deadly traps, a bewildering terrain designed to confuse and decimate the enemy.
Zhoru shifted the view to show the fortifications more clearly. "The enemy will have no choice but to face this system of barriers with alternating heights, which will confuse their direct path, slow their advance, and funnel them into more kill zones. Integrated into the barrier system is also this network of interconnected bunkers and drone nests, with additional arrays of supporting turrets, traps, and drone nests. With them, we will make the enemy bleed for every step they take."
"What if something unexpected happens?" Anderson asked. "What if they try something we're not prepared for?"
"An excellent question," Hairun said, his voice steady, tinged with a regal accent when filtered through his translator, "we are prepared for all manners of unexpected complications on the battlefield."
With his omni-tool, Hairun highlighted reserve units, emergency supply depots, and medical stations for the wounded. Her limbs felt lighter just knowing that such contingency plans were in place. As her father always said,
'A plan with no contingencies is a damned fool's errand.'
"For as you humans say," Hairun continued, "no plan survives contact with the enemy. We have to be prepared for anything."
Again, she watched a simulate battle – the defense of the middle defensive line – play out on the hologram. The destruction was a whirlwind of chaos and precision strikes, a dance of warfare she could hardly fathom.
"And if we are fortune," Zhoru added, "our naval forces will be able to cover retreat with a precision orbital bombardment."
A chill ran through her, as she imagined the destruction that would wreak. Undoubtedly, it would leave swathes of the colony in ruins. She gulped, and her voice couldn't help but tremble. "What then?".
"Finally…" Zhoru said, zooming out the hologram, then in on a fortified area. "We will fall back to behind our final, most fortified defensive line."
The last defensive line was a formidable fortress, teeming with immense walls, countless turrets, and even a connecting network of underground tunnels.
Zhoru pointed towards the walls. "These walls are not mere barriers, but are connected to this network of passages, enabling rapid deployment and relocation for our forces." With his omni-tool, Zhoru highlighted a few nearby fortifications. "Behind the walls, these towers are equipped with high-powered laser and mass-accelerator canons that will also provide good vantage points for our snipers. Here, this array of anti-air platforms will neutralize aerial threats, and interspersed throughout this area, these seismic sensors will detect any tunneling attempts, and halt them with these geothermal traps."
She was speechless. Her mind reeled at the sheer scale of this operation, at the sheer brilliance of the fortifications. Each defensive line was a unique challenge on its own, designed not only to fight but to wear down the enemy through attrition, chaos, and ferocious, unyielding resistance.
Even for the Silent Ones, breaching them would not be an easy task.
"It is where we will make our final stand," Zhoru continued, "until we evacuate the last civilians from this planet." With his omni-too, he highlighted several areas. "Afterwards, depending on the situation, we will withdraw from the battlefield at one of these extraction points and cover our retreat with a final orbital bombardment."
She exhaled. Goodness…
Zhoru's plan was a masterstroke in military tactics that made those of even the most renowned battles of the Third World War seem crude in comparison. And all with defenses built in only hours. Indeed, if this plan was possible with defenses erected in only hours, then what could they do in weeks, months, or even years?
"This…" she began. "This is an extraordinary plan. But the cost…" She gulped. Yes, if the Silent Ones managed to breach all three defensive lines, it would definitely claim countless lives and leave the colony in ruins.
"The Silent Ones will show us no mercy or restraint, Khanah," Zhoru said softly. "So we will do what we must."
As the weight of those words settled within her, she couldn't help but remember one of the reasons she'd abandoned her old life in the Alliance.
Nobody escapes the ruthless calculus of war.
She took a deep breath, then looked Zhoru in the eye. "I'm going to get some rest. If anything happens, wake me."
Zhoru nodded. "Very well."
Yes, when the Silent Ones arrived, hopefully, rest would help prepare her for the chaos to come.
Amidst the swell of frenzied crowds, Governor Takeshi Goto navigated through the chaos, his hand clenched around Kasumi's, and his wife flanked at his side. Around him, the air buzzed with an electric tension. Hazard lights and those of the evacuation ship ahead cut through the smoky, dark night. And the voices of Hannah's volunteer soldiers blared on loudspeakers, along with those of their quarian companions.
Meanwhile, his mind reeled with fearsome images of how the quarians and the Silent Ones – two technological titans – would clash in the coming hours. Already, he'd spotted hundreds of quarian drones flying through the air, building immense fortifications in the distance, with arcane technology capable of practically magic.
So would the use of similarly advanced weapons during the coming battle leave the colony in ruins?
Would thousands die regardless, no matter what anyone did?
"Ojichan," Kasumi's voice wavered, "Ojichan, I'm scared. What's happening? Where are we going?"
"We're just going on a little trip," Etsuko answered, forcing a note of cheer into her voice.
Kasumi's whine grew louder, her fear undiminished. His heart clenched. Already, his granddaughter had lost her parents. And now, her entire world was falling apart.
"Everything is going to be okay," he said, trying to reassure her.
But the words felt hollow.
As they neared the bustling checkpoint, armored human and quarian soldiers directed the flow of the desperate masses.
"Keep moving, and hold on to your loved ones," they repeated, their voices swallowed by the din.
A cold shiver shot down his spine at the casual mention of 'loved ones'. Around him, time seemed to dilate and stretch out each agonizing second. He shut his eyes tight and took a deep breath, letting the rush of oxygen brace him. "You heard them."
Kasumi turned her innocent, petrified eyes onto him. "Ojichan…You're not coming?" The plea in her voice stabbed at his heart.
"I…I can't," he choked. "The people here, they need me."
Kasumi's face crumpled as she burst into tears. "No…no, please, Ojichan. Don't leave me."
Behind them, the crowd grew restless, their impatience becoming more and more palpable.
"Please step off to the side, and take all the time you need," suggested one of Hannah's volunteer soldiers, gesturing toward a quiet corner.
Holding Kasumi's hand, he ushered her off the main path. As people rushed past them, urged on by the nearby soldiers, he sank to his knees and pulled Kasumi into a hug. She clung to him with desperate tightness, her small frame trembling with sobs.
"I'm scared, Ojichan," she sobbed, her breath hitching. "I'm scared. P-p…please don't leave me."
"I know you're scared," he said, his throat thick. As he stroked her hair, a heavy, metaphorical weight settled upon his mind. His heart raced, and a nasty, sickening sensation racked his stomach. If he did not survive what was to come, would his absence scar her for life? "I know."
Slowly, her sobs lessened and he pulled away, looking into her eyes. He brushed away her tears with his thumb. "My little starlight, I know you're scared. Somebody your age should never have to suffer like this."
"But right now," Etsuko said, as she knelt beside Kasumi, her experienced eyes filled with both tenderness and firm resolve. "Everyone here needs your Ojichan's help."
"But why?" Kasumi asked. She sniffled. "Why can't he come?"
"Because good leaders, Kasumi," he said, gently squeezing her hand, "must often make hard choices, even if it means leaving behind those they love for a while." He looked deeply into his granddaughter's eyes. "We will be together again. I promise."
Sniffling, Kasumi gave a small nod, her eyes still brimming with tears. "Okay…"
His heart ached, yet the pain was tinged with pride. That's my girl. But then an idea sprang to mind. He unclasped the pendant he always wore around his neck, a family heirloom passed down through generations. With a gentle hand, he placed it in her small grasp, his eyes meeting hers. "Hold on to this for me, my little starlight. Until we see each other again. Can you do that for me?"
She tightened her grip around the pendant. "Yes, Ojichan. Yes, I can."
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Everything is going to be fine. You are a strong, strong girl, my little starlight. You can do this."
Rising to his feet, he met his wife's gaze. Her eyes were full of fear and apprehension, but also an unwavering determination that echoed his own. There were no words, only a silent promise that passed between them.
He drew her in for a passionate kiss, savoring the familiar taste of her, the comforting warmth, and the smell of her perfume so nearly drowned out by the chaos all around them.
When they broke apart, he whispered in her ear. "I love you. And whatever happens to me, promise–"
"Sssh," she said, hushing him, putting one finger to his lips. She whispered in his ear. "Until the day I die."
He drew away, and his eyes watered. Goodness, why was this so hard? "So long, Kasumi," he murmured, struggling to maintain his composure. "Until we meet again, listen to your grandmother, okay?"
Nodding, Etsuko picked up Kasumi and joined the surging lines heading towards the evacuation ship. He watched them until they blurred into the crowd, and a cold, emptiness expanded in his chest. As it grew, he couldn't help but feel as though he'd left behind a piece of his heart. A part of him wanted nothing more than to rush after them and abandon everything.
But what kind of man would that make him?
Certainly not one worthy of raising Kasumi.
He took a deep breath, and gradually he regained his composure. Yes, with Kasumi and Etsuko safe, now was the time to fulfill his duty, to ensure the safety and security of the people who needed him.
With newfound resolve, he made his way back toward the command center, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
Captain Rael'Zorah stepped into the pulsating blue light of the Endaara's quantum communications center. His gloved fingers danced over the shimmering, holographic display of his omni-tool, accepting the flurry of incoming comm-requests with practiced ease. Meanwhile, his guts twisted. His heart hammered in his chest. And over the past twelve hours, Han's warning message had been echoing in his skull and gnawing at his mind.
The whole time, he'd spent nearly every waking moment preparing his ships for the coming hit-and-run campaign he'd devised on the way to this system. Now, they were strategically scattered like hidden treasures across the local asteroid belt and nestled in the billowing shadows of the nearby gas giants.
During stolen moments of respite, he'd flicked through old picts and vids of Tali and Maeru, letting them fuel his drive to win and return to them alive. He swallowed hard. Indeed, the Silent Ones could arrive any moment now. And he'd need every ounce of his will to triumph.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the room came alive with sharp crack-swhooms, with holographic figures materializing from the quantum noise. And then holograms Han'Gerrel, Shala'Raan, and Valo'Gerrel appeared before him, their hands clasped behind their backs in a show of discipline and unity.
"Han…" he said, his voice cracking around the name. "Keelah, praise the ancestors that you are still with us. Please, explain why it took me so long to get a hold of you?"
Han exhaled heavily. "Apologies for the delay. After the Silent Ones breached our defenses, we were scrambling to patch up vital systems and to regroup at the rally point." Han's holographic eyes met his, the familiar gleam replaced with an unspoken determination. "But rest assured, my friend, that we are en route, that we will not leave you to face the enemy alone."
"Our ETA to the Mindoir system is approximately four to six hours," Shala said.
"So if you have made any updates to your plan," Valo said, "now would be the time to inform us."
Staring into the holographic faces of his comrades, he sighed. Depending on when the Silent Ones would arrive, four to six hours might be too long to wait. But nonetheless, he stood resolute. "Our plan remains the same."
Their odds may be bleak, with the Silent Ones vastly outmanning and outgunning them. Yet, their objective remained undeterred – protect Mindoir's surface and the designated safe corridors for the evacuation ships by denying the Silent Ones orbital superiority, by constantly harrying them to spread thin their forces.
And once the last evacuation ship departed this system, and was heading for the rally point near Alpha Centauri just four light years away from Earth, his forces would then tactically retreat from the battlefield and join them.
"Once you arrive," he commanded, "keep the Silent Ones from gaining orbital superiority or from targeting the evacuation ships at all costs."
"Understood," Han said. "Until we arrive, may the ancestors be with you."
"And give you the strength needed to survive," Shala added.
He nodded. "Keelah Sel'ai."
"Keelah Sel'ai," they echoed. And then their holograms winked out.
In the ensuing silence, the memory of them superimposed over mental images of Maeru and Tali. His hands trembled slightly, and the reality of the coming struggle and the uncertainty of his own survival bore down on his mind.
Without warning, the ship's battle alarm blared and severed his thoughts. His omni-tool flashed with an urgent comm-request. He answered it.
"Captain, to the bridge, now!" Kharo said.
"On the way," he replied, forcing his voice steady. He dashed out of the quantum communications center, his heart thrashing, his mind swirling with visions of the fire and death to come. Yes, at last, the Silent Ones had arrived.
And only time would tell if humanity would survive the nightmare to come.
