Rising from the Embers of Sera

by thehappy

The people of Sera rebuild, spreading to the stars. Wars will be waged. Peace will be sought. The Coalition has risen from the ashes to take their right to exist in the galaxy. They will survive...no matter the cost.

18. Chapter Seventeen: Opening Sera

Well, I am back with another chapter! Now, obviously some of you were concerned with the COG suddenly becoming weak, or a pushover so the CC can still be dominant. Mainly because of the Turian presence in the Pandora System. I want to ensure the Onyx Accords are pretty much the last major treaty, especially concerning foreign troops on COG soil. But, Pandora is the 'odd duck' for the COG. Think of it like Singapore if that helps.

So aside from embassies on Sera, there won't be CC troops on New Vectes, Azura Prime, etc. Or really, anything concerning the Citadel.

I want to make sure the COG remains a viable, military power along the Eastern Galaxy. Right now, they have a navy about 6000-6200 strong, which I think is about even with the Asari. So basically, as of now, the Seran's could easily be a 4th race on the council if they choose…which they wont.

I hope that reassures all you readers!

Now…Onto the story!

Chapter Seventeen: Opening Sera

---

Earth, Vienna 1st of Thaw 424. A.E. (2164 A.D, October)

Parliament House

Fall was starting to fall on Vienna, the capital of the System Alliance ebbing toward chilling weather as the leaves fell. While full winter was still a good month or two away, everybody knew how brutal European winters could be.

Still, that didn't matter in the Parliament chambers as the latest issue fell into gridlock.

Rows of representatives from the old nations of Earth each held a seat, the rows of thick, carved paneled oak resplendent of history and culture. Curving around in a half circle, the overhead lights of the chamber weren't needed as the window still offered hours of illumination.

"The people of Brazil and Latin America will not support this proposal! The Coalition has made their stance clear on immigration and this will only create a greater rift between our two species!" Hector Ramirez said loudly, the pudgy, but swarthy man flushed with frustration as he held up the latest proposal from the colonization affairs office. With hair graying at his temples, the man stood firm as the representatives from Honduras, Belize, and Cuba clapped. Sitting down, a woman stood, her raven black hair and her latino skin tone mixing with a burgundy suit that added to her trim frame.

"The floor recognizes Representative Isabella De Leon" Speaker Donnel Udina pointed, the freshman politician only a year in the position. Still relatively young at thirty two years, he preened with youth and vigor.

"As many of you know, Venezuela has experienced hardships. We are poor, and nearly half our population is in poverty after multiple civil wars, failed socialism, and corruption. Some of our young men and women took the chance to fight for the Coalition, seeing an opportunity to give their family a future across the galaxy. But why do China, India, and the nations of Africa insist on making this difficult? We have colonies, systems that could use hard working individuals from Earth! Yet you try to force the hands of the Serans, to make them accept three million immigrants per world! They have sent a reasonable proposal from their perspective, yet this…" Holding up a data pad with the reworked treaty, the Venezuelan shook her head. "This will end in failure"

"Of course Latin America sides with the Coalition! Half your people see Chairman Diaz as some sort of hero despite the brutality of her regime!" Representative Zhang yelled, the Chinese man standing and pointing. "China is bursting at the seams, especially in the slums of our cities! The Serans have a low population and worlds almost empty of settlement! They'll be thankful for the millions ready to settle! Borra Borea! Ephyra! New Vectes! All of them are vastly underpopulated! Even Sera itself has barely a billion inhabitants!"

"And what of political and gender groups! The Serans have made it abundantly clear about their stance! Or do you plan on making them adapt?"

"Of course they'll adapt! They have to after the losses they suffered!" Zhang shouted back, his accent lilted, but understandable.

"I doubt they will" Benjamin Blackwell added calmly, the American sitting at his desk in the first row. "All of you in support of this immigration treaty have made a grievous error"

"Oh? Then please enlighten the chamber" Zhang spat, the male sitting slowly as murmurs raced through parliament.

"You all seem to think that the Serans are beggars…desperate for new settlers and colonists. While it is true their losses were horrific during the war, they have such an immense pride. In their history, accomplishments. The locust war has completely reformed their society and first contact has reaffirmed that. If any of you think that they'll accept their worlds being overwhelmed by our own people…to adopt our societal values, you are mistaken. We are talking about a human society that has been united in purpose since we were using muskets and ships of wood and canvas. And that purpose is to survive…to ensure that their species will never again fall within the grasp of extinction" Tapping his forefinger against the tablet with the reworked treaty, Blackwell frowned. "The North American Union will not be supporting this bill. Instead, we should be increasing our own colonial efforts, establishing new settlements on Eden Prime, Elysium, Sirona and Alpha Centauri along with security efforts in the Skyllian Verge near the Batarian border. Not only that, but the needs of the war delayed the construction of Arcturus Station. We should be concentrating on the needs of the Alliance, not shipping millions across the galaxy"

Zhang scowled, his temper flaring then falling as he took a breath. He was representing China, and her voice carried weight. While no longer communist, the old beliefs would take time to fade, especially among the changing galaxy and ways of Earth.

"May I remind the American that we shouldn't even have to ask the permission of the Serans. We outnumber them nearly six to one. By themselves, China and India have more citizens than the entirety of the Coalition. We can simply send colonial ships and demand them to settle on their newly revealed worlds" Zhang pointed out, the smug chinaman foolishly believing the Serans wouldn't dare to fire on unarmed ships filled with eager Chinese to settle distant worlds.

"Do you want to start a war!?" Blackwell roared, the outburst rippling among a near third of the parliament seats. "Ship for ship, the Serans have us outgunned! Or have you forgotten they almost went to war with the Council for a mere half dozen ships crossing their borders!? That they field vessels larger than Asari flagships! Yet you propose simply sending colony ships to breach their territory? I can't think of a more disastrous idea if I tried!"

"Enough! This reworked proposal has been in deadlock for nearly two months! We vote today!" Udina shouted, the speaker's voice rising above the light arguments and accusations.

Casting their votes one by one, the one hundred ninety five representatives of the Systems Alliance voted, the former nation states working together on this latest proposal.

The proposal passed one hundred thirty eight to fifty seven.

The Citadel. The Seran Embassy 3rd of Thaw, 424. A.E.

Ichika Kojima was seated before Almstead's desk, the rushing of shuttles and burning lights pouring through the nearby window. Idly studying a painting showing three moons enveloped by the universe, it was titled 'Night of Sera' Pressing down a crease in her simple, white dress, the Japanese woman and ambassador could already tell what the answer would be.

"How bad was it? I'm sure your government found this immigration proposal simply untenable"

Jonathan nodded, his eyes reading the communication displayed on his secured terminal. "I did talk with Diaz last night, I can tell you she was less than thrilled" the man replied dryly.

"I want you to know nearly a third of parliament voted against this. Three million immigrants per world. The acceptance of all groups and creeds. I knew it would fail the moment I read it. There were even rumors of simply forcing colonial transports across your border. Thankfully it's just a rumor that's been confirmed to have no substance"

Jonathan remained impassive at that last piece of information. "I'm reasonably sure the navy wouldn't simply destroy civilian ships crossing our border, but I can't be certain. If that situation arose, hopefully seizure and refusal would take precedence. Still, if it the Terrans did something that foolish, it really could cause a naval engagement or full war"

"That's a relief it's just a minor rumor"Rereading the Terran Immigration Treaty once more that was splayed on a data tablet across his desk, the ambassador shook his head in disappointment. It had been ridiculous. Millions per world, including Sera. The demands of Terran laws for the newly settled. A splitting of taxation. It was a madness of futility that spat in the face of Seran independence.

Whoever initially wrote this proposal should be drummed out of any government position immediately.

"The moment the House of Sovereigns read this, it was immediately rejected. In fact, any future attempts of reaching a compromise are done. There will be no immigration to any Coalition world by any Terran groups. Of course, Pandora is still open due to the Onyx Accords. But aside from that, the border is closed with the exception of approved vessels"

Kojima shook her head. She had tried to push for the initial proposal, allowing a small flow of migration…a way to bring the Terrans and Serans closer together. But it had been destroyed by politicians who thought of the COG as needing to be reworked from the inside. "How will this effect our two peoples going forward?"

Almstead shrugged, then stood to pour himself a glass of some dark alcohol from the Seran homeworld. Pouring a second glass, he handed it to the Ichika then stood near the bay window as traffic roared by. Sipping, he felt the rumble of a large transport, its blazing blue light passing in a flash.

"Try not to take it too hard. It was a diplomatic failure, not a declaration of war. We will still be opening embassies in New Ephyra. Trade and commerce will be unaffected as will future settlement upon Pandora. Of course, this does prove Diaz right in the fact your government was trying to overwhelm us with numbers. Probably will be a point when she runs for re-election in two years" Sipping again, the ambassador smiled as his counterpart sipped her own brand of Seran whiskey.

Coughing slightly, Ichika could feel the burn.

"How is it? Was distilled in Pelles"

"Definitely has a kick" Sipping again, the Japanese woman nursed the drink as the ice clinked. Relaxing while sitting back, she was relieved the Serans hadn't thrown a fit. They were simply walking away from the metaphorical table, and she couldn't blame them.

Still, a thought came to her. "Jonathan? Does Izabel Diaz hate Terrans? She's on record being quite dismissive of us since first contact"

Almstead took a long pull, the man grimacing at the window. "She's studied your history. Like Sera, Terra has a long, bloody history of conflict, war and strife. There are major differences of course, but then…your species seemed to soften. Notably during the late twentieth to the mid twenty first century with the rise of social justice, wokism, and keyboard warriors who took offense to nearly everything. That type of thinking lead to near collapse of several countries and it is very disturbing to the majority of Serans. To allow that to rise in the Coalition could lead to collapse…failure. We cannot allow that. But no, Diaz does not hate your people, she just sees extreme examples of foolishness, greed, and failure from the last century" Raising the glass again, Jonathan slowly grinned as he pulled it away. "Plus, there is a rumor that she has developed a liking to one of your ancient musicians. A man named Johnny Cash"

"Johnny Cash…the name sounds familiar…" She had to assume it was long ago, far removed from the current age of music. Still, it was a promising bit of information that the normally hard-lined Chairman actually enjoyed something from Earth. Taking another sip of the Seran whiskey, Ichika knew this was for the best. After all, the Systems Alliance had taken several systems from the Batarians and many garden worlds could use a sizable influx of settlers from Earth. "I hear the Asari want to open a cruise line to your Azura System. Quite the pair of beautiful planets"

It was an understatement. The twin worlds of Azura Prime and Corva were…breathtaking. Tropical rainforests and sprawling reefs filled with a vibrant aquatic ecosystem. Abundant with life, islands and serene, clean oceans, those two planets were already considered a vacation paradise by the Serans. And now the galaxy knew of them.

"If there is, it won't be today. Still, I could see the benefit of tourism"

"Still, the Council pushed hard for that Turian presence. Anything like a cruise line is probably years away now because of that" Shaking his head, he could understand the Turian's reasoning. After all, if the roles were reversed, he knew damn well the COG would want the same.

"I wonder…"

"Hmm?" Kojima perked up, the woman now standing at the window, watching the flow of citadel traffic flit back and forth.

"I'm reasonably sure the Turians vastly underestimated the hostility of Pandora's native life. I hear there are plants that can eat a full grown Krogan, packs of meat eating reptiles, ocean life the size of Leviathans…there will be losses"

"Still surprised your government agreed to that"

"It was necessary to secure a lasting treaty" Finishing his glass, he set it down on the small bar. "Now, Since you were the only appointment of the day, would you care to join me for lunch? My wife would be happy to join us"

"That would be quite pleasant" Smiling, Kojima knew Almstead was very friendly for a Seran, probably how he got the job. Plus, he didn't seem to hold a grudge about the now failed negotiations.

Leaving the office and the four man squad of Gears standing beyond the door, the two would dine with Jonathan's wife, letting the failed issue fade into obscurity.

Pandora. Eastern Coast of the main continent. 9th of Storm, 425 A.E.

General Prilius Lincus had considered this assignment to be a great honor. Not only would he be safeguarding the coming civilians in the next two years, but he and his men would be working along side the Serans to help secure and develop this wild world.

Still…he hadn't taken into account how damn…humid this planet was.

Turian's didn't sweat, but he felt like he was going to anyway.

Perking his head up at the rattle of weapons fire near the perimeter, he dismissed it, going back to the task of ensuring this instillation was set up as quickly as possible.

Situated on a low hill bisected with a small river, the top had already been cleared of vegetation by engineers and troops, the males and females working round the clock to establish a viable base. Casting his silver hued eyes, he could easily see the flicker of bluish energy between pylons, the barrier suddenly sparking as a hostile vociraptor charged and shrieked.

A rapidly erected guard tower suddenly erupted with a slew of mass accelerated rounds, the slivers of metal ripping into the jungle beyond as beasts screamed.

Of course he had read up on the collected data gleaned from the first settlers. But the hostility of life here was…horrific. Already, in the last three days since they arrived, eight of his men had been killed, while another twenty two had been wounded.

One had been eaten by a plant, which prompted Lincus to adapt a Seran attitude and to shoot or burn anything that moved.

Glancing back down at the electronic map in his open prefab headquarters, he was at least satisfied with the location. Only twenty miles from Thessa and a few outcropping villages of Turians, the military base was only a mile from the coast and its tropical waters rife with aquatic life.

"Aquatic life that can eat a small boat" There were already stories about hapless Salarians getting eaten whole while out fishing, craft and all, but he really couldn't confirm. Reconcentrating, he tried to memorize the scattered settlements of the planet, notably the largest, New Haven.

It was primarily Seran, nestled between two valleys halfway across the continent. The main road was still under construction, connecting New Haven and Thessa, but it was nearing completion, slated to open by months end.

Rubbing his temple, the silver blue plates of his face contorted in a very Turian scowl. "How in the spirits do they expect me to protect Council citizens when half of them are setting up farms in the middle of nowhere? Two legions won't be enough at all. Hell, the amount of hostile fauna and flora on this planet could choke a thresher maw"

Another rip of gunfire snapped through the air near the main gate, but whatever screamed was quickly silenced as machinery hummed and churned as barracks were being erected with haste. Casting his silver gaze out the nearby window, the general knew this was only temporary, but still…

Troops shouted, suddenly sprinting toward one of the energy shield barriers. Tendrils of vines were rapidly growing, butting up against the barrier that flickered and pulsed with arcs of static.

Stepping out of his headquarters, General Lincus watched in horrid fascination as one of the vines knocked over an energy pylon, disrupting the flow with a spark and flicker of damage.

"FLYTRAP! FLAMETHROWER! TAKE IT OUT!" A sergeant shouted as the leathery vines stretched and wrapped around the foot of a female. Shrieking as it pulled the solider, a few others raced up with flamethrowers and rifles. Flares of flame shot out, washing over the snarling trap of the large plant as others used standard munitions to save their comrade.

"GET THAT PYLON UP!" The sergeant bellowed once more as the threat was eliminated, thankfully with only a minor injury as the platoon scrambled at the base perimeter.

Roars erupted from the jungle, mixed with alien hoots and howls. Turning away as more guard towers fired in the mass of green, Lincus re-entered his command post, passing a few lower officers going about their duties. Sitting at his desk, he powered up the terminal, quicky establishing a connection with his Seran counterpart.

General Anthony Fenix.

Like millions across the galaxy, he had fought in the war. First the Batarians, then shifted toward the Toad front in the last year.

Obviously, Lincus knew of the historical significance of the officer's family, the sheer weight of honor creating men and women ready to serve the Coalition over the centuries. He would admit that he was slightly jealous of the Seran's pedigree.

"What can I do for you, General?" The rasping, similar voice of the ancient war hero prominent even after centuries. If one could still describe the males of the Fenix bloodline…craggy would come to mind. And the eyes…they were extremely dominant as a piercing, pale blue.

"Just curious General, how do you have your men deal with the hostility of this planet? I have employed a 'shoot first' doctrine, but the local fauna and flora has caused several casualties already. Yet your people and the Krogan seem to be thriving"

"Well, it's very simple. The jungles of Pandora are nearly as hostile the Seran homeworld. Even with the diversity of biomes of my home planet, nearly all wildlife there tries to maim or kill you. Leviathans, Grizzles, Vasgarian Krakens, Wakaatu…even our horses can gore a man with their horns. Hell, just look up images of an Armored Shark" The general looked away for a moment, then reverted his pale gaze. "As for the Krogan, this is practically paradise compared to Tuchanka. Sure, they could get eaten, but at least not by a Thresher maw. Still, my advice? Load up your troops and scorch that jungle half a mile out. Odds are, if you don't, shit will find a way to get inside and kill more of your soldier's"

"I'll keep that in mind. By the way, what's your opinion about two full legions on one of your planets? Just curious mind you" Leaning back in his chair, Lincus really had no equal in terms of rank here aside from Fenix.

It was nice to have somebody to talk with.

The image of Anthony remained passive, but Lincus could tell the man didn't like it. "Not something I would've approved, but then, I'm no politician. And from what I can tell, it wasn't popular among some of the nearby colonies, especially Reach or Gulan. Ironically, most of the locals here don't seem to mind since your Turian. Still, we can use every able body on this rock. That first wave of colonists in two years? I guarantee some of them will die simply by being damned fools. Doesn't matter if they're Asari, Terran, Hanar, or my own people. Every race has them and by the Allfathers, we'll have to save them from walking into the jungle and getting their ass chewed off"

Lincus chuckled at that last bit.

"What's your opinion about the ships in orbit? The Turian navy is already hollowing out some asteroid as a minor naval base past the belt"

"Space is big. Could use the ships considering how close the Batarians and Terminus systems are. Sure, we have the Treaty of Adek, but we both know those four eyed assholes will do everything to wiggle out of it" The man grumbled, his voice a rasp of age and experience. "You'd think they'd do their best not to piss us off"

Prilius lightly chuckled. "Your optimism is glowing, Fenix. But that was one of the main concerns of the Hierarchy. While I'm sure your navy is more than up to the task, having an extra flotilla in the region can't hurt. Especially since I'm sure the pirates and slavers are just waiting for us to lower our guard"

"They try, we'll just take more of their territory" Distracted again, Fenix didn't smile, but his tone did warm...slightly. "Keep me appraised of your progress, General. It's a big planet with nasty critters. The more we secure, the better"

"Of course. May the spirits protect you and your men"

"Likewise" Ending the video call, the image of Anthony Fenix snapped away. Looking up as more snarls were answered with gunfire at the perimeter, General Lincus would take the Seran's advice immediately. Pointing to his immediate subordinate, a female colonel, his voice was devoid of mirth.

"Get some gunships in the air. I want that jungle burned a kilometer out. If it moves, kill it. Use some of the combat companies too with flamethrower teams. Same with the road to Thessa. If the Asari complain about the environment, too damn bad"

"Yes sir!" gladly carrying out the order, the noise of humming gunships filled the air within the hour as the Turians continued to carve out a small slice of civilization among the deadliness of this jungle planet.

Five Kilometers north of Kur, 12th of Storm 425 A.E.

A light rain fell upon the landscape, the steaming jungle thick with life, alien cries, and the sound of ripping chainsaws mixed with rumbling construction. The crack of a falling tree resounded in the distance to the south while a few small fires seemed to choke the air.

Sitting at his kitchen table, a smoldering slab of meat sat on a plate, the grilled smell intoxicating. Taking a bite, Wrex found it wonderful as the juices flowed. Taking a gulp of freshly brewed coffee, the large Krogan nodded in approval.

After all, he had grown the crop and brewed it himself.

Coupled with the early morning rain and the smell of soil filtering through the nearby window, Wrex found the mood extremely pleasant.

A rumbling ground transport passed his plot of land along the main road, the one hundred sixty acres essentially a square that belonged to him. Gazing upon the southern field of growing coffee plants, the cash crop swayed in a light breeze as the light rainfall fell upon the greedily growing plantlife.

Lines of irrigation flowed between the rows, fed by the stream that gurgled through the northern portions of his land.

Another transport rumbled past, the large, radial tires of a civilian Packhorse slewing through the light mud. The design hadn't changed much since the Pendulum wars, a mentality of if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

It was well suited for Krogan use too.

"Probably headed to Kur" Wrex mumbled before ripping off another bite of meat. He knew he needed to buy a truck himself soon. Same with some harvesting bots for his fields. The small town was freshly carved out of the land just a few months ago, and it was already growing with shops and commerce. Nestled at the fork of a river, it was one of hundreds of tiny hamlets and villages that were springing up across the planet.

Of course, the Seran settlement of Grav Lake was probably the largest in the area, boasting nearly five thousand souls. Taking its name from a nearby lake, the town was only thirty miles north, further inland by a waterfall if he remembered correctly.

Shrugging, it didn't really matter. Wrex had more work to do and today was a good day.

After all, he really needed to clear the northern portions of his land of stumps and trees to get that second field planted as soon as possible.

Finishing his meal, the older Krogan grunted as he lumbered out of his home, the pelts of rain falling as humidity choked the air. The air conditioning hummed, keeping his home cool, but every time it was a sweat box when stepping outside.

But he didn't care. None of the Krogan did. It was clean…unpolluted and free of radiation. The perfect place for thousands of his people to build a second chance. Continuing to walk, he moved to his supply shed…well, more like a few posts and a tarp at this point.

"Gotta say…the Serans kept their word" setting a large hand on the Colonial Fabrication Unit, the piece of technology was the size of a small crate with glowing, blue lines across the surface. A feeder for raw materials sat on top. The tray for finished products would open upon completion, but for now it was closed.

The Serans didn't consider it a classified or militarily important piece of technology, but Wrex wasn't sure they knew just how amazing it was. He could feed in jungle wood and stone, it broke down, and he got tools…or minor explosives for clearing stubborn stumps infesting his land.

It was fucking awesome.

"This is what it should be like. A good home, clean soil and air…" the admission was more of a grunt, but he studied the low slung unit where he lived. It was mostly white walls with reinforced windows and fully furnished, part of the colonial package he was given for service. And while not large by any means, it was more than adequate for a single individual or a small family.

He might even paint it later, but for now, it was fine. Taking a sip of his remaining coffee under the awning, Wrex breathed in the scent, the light rain bringing a calmness to the male. Panning his gaze along the dirt track of his farm, it lead to a pulsing sheen of energy fences that lined his property.

Getting it set up had been a giant pain in the ass. Not the physical work, but just making sure something didn't try to sneak up and kill him. But the native life failed, the carved up meat steaks of a vociraptor in his refrigerator was testament to that.

Immediately after his perimeter was up, he has started clearing the first field near the road, eager to plant a crop. It has been easy, as evidenced by the growth.

He was really looking forward to selling it to Salarians. They loved caffeine, and his crop would probably make a few of them addicted. Smiling at the squishy aliens all jittering and flailing, it made Wrex even happier.

"Probably should get started" Hefting a proper chainsaw, Wrex walked toward the rear field, the land still shrouded in jungle, trees, and unremoved stumps. A low ridge rose beyond his property, the gurgling of a small waterfall feeding the stream cutting through his land.

The fact he had a clean, unspoiled water source was amazing. Still, he had fabricated a filter. Last thing he needed was some Buzzbird taking a shit in his water and spoiling his day.

Flipping the switch of his tool, the chainsaw buzzed to life as he approached the first tree. It was thick, nearly as wide as him. Pushing the spinning blades against the trunk, the sudden smell of sawdust and sap sprayed while the teeth whined and screamed.

"Hehe. Reminds me of cutting through some Toads" Chuckling to himself, the Krogan worked to clear his land and create a fresh home away from the ruins of Tuchanka and his asshole father.

Several hours passed, Wrex's stomach grumbling for a fresh meal. Halting the carving of the fallen tree into smaller pieces, he hefted the chainsaw over his shoulder.

Humming thrums of an aerial transport sliced over his farm, heading north-west toward the coast.

"Probably Sinno Bay if I had to guess"

It was far larger than Kur or Grav Lake, the city of thirty thousand mostly Terran with some pockets of Asari and Serans. There was a minor space port, and it was connected by ground highways to New Haven, but it was still nearly four hours by ground transport.

Wrex really had no reason to go there as Kur or Grav Lake would have everything he needed.

Walking into his home, Wrex quickly warmed up another slab of meat, his stomach rumbling. Deciding on a large ale to wash it down, he retook his normal spot at his kitchen table.

Hitting a few light keys on his omnitool, Wrex checked his messages.

There weren't many. Most pertained to setting up a buyer for his coffee grounds in the coming weeks, but other than that, nobody had really messaged him aside from Vorge. Opening the message, he read, slowly approving.

"So…setting up a gun shop in Tuk City. Not bad. People always need a gun" Scrolling past, he came upon the last file, stamped with a priority message from the Coalition. Curious, he opened it, hastily reading.

"Invited to Sera, huh? Part of that diplomatic thing with the opening of embassies. Guess they recognize me as important" Smirking to himself, he would go. After all, a free trip to Sera would be damn cool.

"Scheduled for fifteenth of Gale. Yeah, I should be able to clear that second field by then" Closing the file, he went back to eating as another small rain squall dumped water upon his farm, feeding his future.

Sera. New Ephyra. 15th of Gale, 425 A.E.

Fifteen Citadel ships fell out of FTL at the systems edge, hanging silently among the void. Comprised of a balanced mixture of Turian, Salarian, Asari, Terran and two Volus vessels, the diplomatic mission had crossed the Coalition without incident.

Of course, they did have to follow an established path with daily updates, but aside from that minor inconvenience, there had been no issues.

Slipping forward at sublight, the flotilla of destroyers, two light cruisers, and one heavy cruiser passed the outer planets, a bloated gas giant of green with nearly a dozen moons being the first. Home to the Onyx Fleet yard, the minor contingent of vessels gave a wide berth as sensors picked up the signatures of several battleships and a lone monitor hanging near the distant world.

It was obvious the Seran navy knew they were there as several of their vessels fell into formation a few million miles away.

Close enough to act, but not close enough to alarm.

Engines flared blue, pushing past Risea and the few cities dotting its surface. Due to its distance from the home star, the planet was drier, a mixture of savannah, desert and an equatorial band of farmland. Still, there were a few landlocked seas and some forests, making it a livable world after years of terraforming.

Finally arriving in orbit of Sera, the homeworld of the Coalition hung like a marble, its swirls of oceans, continents, and biomes hiding the ancient horrors that beset this world.

Doctor Maria Mueller was one of the first to lay eyes on this second homeworld of humanity. Gasping lightly, the xeno-anthropologist of forty three years studied the slowly turning globe, taking in as many details as possible. She was slim and fit, a life of digs and facing hazards requiring a balanced life of diet and strength. With her auburn hair tied up in a bun and tucked beneath a ratty sun hat, she studied the world below.

The continent of Tyrus was locked in daylight for now, the visual scars of war observable from orbit. Even after centuries, the hammer strikes could still be seen in some locations. Many names were given. The Char…Ashlands…the Scorch…but a vast majority had faded with time, allowing the regrowth of forests…the cleaning of lakes and rivers.

"Amazing. I can't wait to get down there" Whispering the words, Maria knew she was just one of nearly two dozen scientists to make the trip to try and figure out that one burning question.

How were there two branches of humanity?"

Her compatriot walked up, an older man nearly bald with fringes of red hair near his ears. He studied alien histories and cultures, devoting his life to understanding not only the Protheans, but all the galactic civilizations.

"Looking at that world, its hard to believe the horrors committed here" Doctor Daniel Cronkite remarked, his normally jovial mood minimal with that statement. After all, that knowledge was pretty common now. But still, he came to study and to hopefully find a few artifacts in those crumbling ruins.

"It's so sparely populated. Less than forty percent of Seran's live here, and every year, thousands leave for the colonies" Ruefully shaking her head, Earth was opposite, the overcrowded Terran homeworld nearly bursting at the seams.

"And yet, heavily defended" Pointing out the large window of the ship, they could see a hanging weapon platform the size of a toy, but no doubt much more lethal if approached. "They say that Sera is so fortified from enemy fleets that even the Turians wouldn't risk it. Dozens of HOD satellites, each capable of burning a hole through a battleship. Orbit MAC platforms. Ground based instillations and a population that will fight to the death" Chuckling morbidly, he pitied any alien fleet that would try.

Maria's omni-tool chimed, warning them that the shuttle would depart for the Seran surface. She knew the newly minted ambassadors, their families and staff would be take up quite a bit of time getting settled in, not that she really cared about that. Maria wanted to visit the Montevado sinkhole, the sunken ruins of Jacinto, Azura Island and the fallen cities within the Char. Of course she knew that some places would be dangerous, especially with the wildlife, but her excitement for this opportunity made her feel like a kid all over again.

Rushing down the hall, she left Daniel in the metaphorical dust as she entered the shuttle, quickly strapping herself in with a few other fellow scientists and their secured supplies and equipment.

"I hope I get to see a Leviathan. Or maybe a Vasgarian Kraken from the air! Sera is rife with colossal life forms that make the whales of Earth look like kittens!" Shyla Patel said with nearly unhinged excitement. Descended from India, her family had lived in England for nearly three centuries, which explained the light, British accent. While only thirty three, the biologist was smart, eager, and very interested in the vast parallels of life development on Sera.

"You'll probably have to wait. After all, the diplomats will be meeting with the Chairman, and with her, who knows what she planned for this. We'll be busy going through orientation and security measures. After all, Sera is vastly more dangerous and unsettled than Earth. Some regions are so devoid of civilization that you could be the only human for a hundred miles, surrounded by wildlife that can hunt you down and leave nothing but bloody bones" Maria tried to explain, but her companion only seemed to gush with excitement like a freshman college student.

"I know! Wild horses, jungle felines, bears, unspoiled forests and oceans…this is how Earth should be" Showing a discomfort at the state of their homeworld, Shyla went silent as the shuttle departed, slinking through the air to the surface past roiling clouds.

The pilot muttered something, communicating with the other pilots in formation as the craft suddenly banked, giving a panoramic view of the surface.

"Won't see that on Earth…" Daniel gulped as crackling red lightning, swirling winds, and a roaring cyclone bore down on several cities below.

"I think that's a Windflare. As destructive as hurricanes, but coupled with severe lightning and high velocity winds that can rip the faces off buildings. Could even have Razorhail if the conditions are right" Maria explained offhandedly, the severe storm swirling below as it roiled and flared with the titanic forces of nature.

The other scientists watched, a morbid fascination as the Windflare crawled across the land, no doubt causing destruction in its wake.

Fortunately, New Ephyra was on the other side of the continent, far away from the flaring storm of red lightning. Engines continuing to hum, the assembled transports continuing their path toward the capital of the Coalition.

---

Settling at the sprawling spaceport a mere ten minutes later, the designated visitors disembarked. Most were members of the ambassadorial groups, the assembled species taking a moment.

Maria Mueller raised a hand to shield her eyes, looking upward at the star of Onyx blazing in the late spring day. "Amazing…the second homeworld" She smiled, the doctor rife with energy to begin her research. Taking a step away from the shuttle, she breathed in the air, its natural scent just different from Earth. Not only that, but she could feel the increased gravity. It wasn't much, but Sera did have a gravitational pull five percent greater than Terra. Then, the native star seemed to be just a little brighter than Sol.

Urdnot Wrex was the only Krogan from what he could tell. Moving out of the way as ground crew came to assist, the craggy battlemaster panned his gaze across the sprawling spaceport with its constant traffic of orbital freighters and supply ships that would dart across the atmosphere. Built further inland, he could easily observe the towering spires and gothic architecture of New Ephyra in the distance.

But he was dismissive of the buildings. Not that he wasn't impressed by the city, but his senses were flaring…his nostrils taking in the scents of this world. Walking toward some of the Turians, Wrex saw them stiffen. Stopping next to them, he breathed in once more as the group went still.

"Can you feel it, Turian?"

One of them turned, a male with a mixture of light blue and pale white plates. His eyes were silver like many, the pointed crest of his head marked with further colors. "The spirits…yes. Even here…the fallen of this world's violence and conflict…their loss is felt"

Wrex could only agree. The moment he had stepped onto Sera, it had felt like Tuchanka. "The conflict…the wars of this planet…its soaked into the soil…the air and water…" Blinking slowly, he reveled in the sensation.

"The whole planet was a warzone. Even here, were we stand, the Serans fought the locust horde" Tapping his foot against the concrete tarmac, the Turian basked in his thoughts as he tried to see it all, peeling away the modern structures to that time of suffering and horror.

A few calls from the other groups broke those thoughts, the assembled males and females gathering near several transports that would take them to Embassy Row. Of course, the nearly twenty assembled scientists and researchers that had traveled with them would be taken to a hotel for now, allowing a time to rest and adjust to the local time.

Wrex had expected a big ceremony upon arrival, but most of his fellow aliens would be living here for the foreseeable future and needed to settle. Shrugging, he joined the scientific group, finding it less problematic.

Climbing into a larger transport, the vehicle sank slightly from his weight, but that didn't matter to him. Waiting as a few Terrans joined him with a duo of Asari, he didn't make small talk. Hell, he really didn't understand half the words being tossed around about evolution, Protheans or current theories. Closing his eyes, he just rested as the convoy left the spaceport, its rumbling hum of engines and tires a gentle sway.

New Ephyra. The Seran History Museum. The following day.

The structure was massive. A gothic monolith two stories tall that covered a full city block just south of the city center and its glistening towers of glass and steel. Rising slightly above the city streets, the steps of stone lead to towering pillars at the entrance while the main exterior plaza loomed with a carved statue of one Marcus Fenix.

Casting a shadow among the slightly cooler spring day, the memorial stood at a height of thirty feet, a historical monument as the gathered aliens studied him for a moment, taking in the details. Modeled of an image taken during the war, the stone was well maintained.

Several of the Asari took another few minutes, then turned their gaze to Izabel Diaz.

There were a few Onyx Guards, but the men and women were keeping a comfortable distance. After all, this was the heart of the Cog. If the Chairman and assembled aliens weren't safe here, no place would be.

Smiling warmly, Diaz was once again dressed in a black dress, the material reaching toward her ankles with a light shimmer. "Normally, this museum is open to the public. But what's the point in being a leader if you can't even host a private tour?" Extending a hand, she took an obvious pride in the structure. "This is the largest museum in the Coalition. A gathering of knowledge and history that I hope you can all appreciate" Fully turning, she watched as the sun sparkled off the glass windows, casting more light into the city built upon ruins and ash. "There are numerous historical sites on this planet, many directly linked to the locust war. Unfortunately, I will not be able to host you all during those visitations. After all, running a government is a full time job" Hearing a smattering of chuckles, Izabel turned to the assembled ambassadors and their families.

"Please, follow me" Striding up the steps, Izabel Diaz radiated a state of calm, the last few months relatively uneventful. There was a viable treaty. The enemies were defeated and reconstruction efforts were in full swing. Sensors lined the entirety of the border, warning of any hostiles, but none came from the Council, nor the unknown.

Simply put, Chairman Diaz had a calm easy day and a desire to show off a bit.

Sure, there were a few council ships in orbit, but they were approved as a diplomatic mission. Once the scientific teams were set up and the embassies up and running, they would leave.

Stepping into the museum, the lobby floor was a gloss of polished marble, separated by several pillars. A central pedestal stood between two rising staircases, the steps leading to the upper floor and several different wings. Between the two staircases of polished stonework and gothic decorations was another hallway, the archway of stone leading further into the museum and what looked like a gift store with a light refreshment stand beyond.

A pair of closed doors were to the right, set into the wall as supporting pillars stood nearby. Comprised of heavy oak, the closed wing had a series of words carved into the upper arch of stonework.

The Locust War

Obviously a separate wing pertaining to that global conflict, the doors remained closed as several of the Asari looked upward, enjoying the falling sunlight pouring in from a dome of glass far above. None were in any rush to see the historical violence of that conflict, but every alien knew they would have to. To ignore such a vital, apocalyptic event would be insulting to the Chairman and the Serans as a whole.

No, that wing would be saved for last, allowing them to enjoy rest of the sprawling museum and its treasures of history.

Flowing to life among a ripple of light, a hologram guide appeared before the Turian diplomat as he stepped near a low pedestal. "Welcome to the Seran History Museum. If you have any questions or need assistance, please locate one of the many information kiosks for any issues"

Ambassador Heltus studied the hologram, finding it oddly similar to the one on the Citadel. "That's just a normal V.I. correct? Not a full A.I?" he asked, looking toward the Chairman as she stood to the side.

Yes. Using a full artificial intelligence for a museum would be quite wasteful. The majority are reserved for military use, research and development, or our fleetyards. There are a few in the civilian sector, but even then, that's mainly for cyber security"

"Just checking. While I understand the Coalition uses them freely, I am still wary"

Ambassador Dalben, a relatively young Salarian at twenty two years approached the V.I. the artificial woman smiling upon his approach. "May I be of assistance?"

"Where should I begin the tour of this facility?"

The V.I. pointed toward a large archway along the left wall, leading further into the structure as her image gave a slight ripple. "For a proper understanding of history, the age of stone and iron would be the appropriate place to start"

"Thank you" Turning, the Salarian was curious as he rapidly walked toward the awning arch of stone and carved decorations.

Diaz kept quiet, letting the group advance to study and learn. While she knew they could download information, viewing it in person was preferred over a data file.

The visitors talked lowly, walking among themselves while studying the earliest records of Sera. From the few examples of pottery and art to bronze spears and helmets used by ancient Pelles. Further up, a replica of an early oar ship appeared with several models of men inside.

"Is this what your earliest vessels looked like? It's very similar to the galleys of ancient Earth" The Terran ambassadors wife asked, a youthful brunette by the name of Tabitha Salvador.

Izabel walked up as her husband joined them, Enrico's dark hair matching his Spanish heritage.

"We think so. But we're not positive. Even without the events of E-day, this vessel existed nearly four thousand years ago. All traces of them have long rotted away" Pulling back, Izabel walked slowly, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere as the group reached the far corner. Walking under another archway, this was displayed with carved letters in its face.

The Age of Armageddon

Heltus looked into a display case, the wide, panoramic view showing a scene of ancient war. A bearded man on a chariot had embedded a sword in a man, the frozen faces distorted in battle lust and agony. Several more models were in the same state, the chariot riders cutting a swath through the foot soldiers. The lead chariot man was resplendent in bronze armor, his helmet a glisten as he hefted a spear. Looking down, a plaque held a small description.

Rise of the Gorasnayan Empire

"Nearly a millennium of constant war. Empires rose and fell, born in blood and dying by fire and collapse. I suppose it can be compared to the ancient wars of Earth. Perhaps a comparison of the Greeks or Romans" Diaz explained as the Turian nodded, understanding that even his world of Palaven went through such an age. Reading another information plaque below a foot soldier speared through the stomach, the fake blood flowed across the display.

"An empire of nearly four hundred million…quite impressive with only sword and bow"

"And yet they lost it all in a generation. Even during the height of the Pendulum wars, Gorasnaya never regained that territory" Walking away, the group moved, studying more scenes of battle. Displays of weathered, pitted bronze weapons were suspended, the few examples of that age illuminated by several lights.

"Thessia never experienced such war, even in the times of city states. Conflict was rare, our ancestors striving for understanding and cooperation" Ambassador Sasri D'nato lightly explained, her tone calm and collected.

"I believe the Asari are an exception to the rule. From what I can tell, nearly all species fight among themselves, and its usually bloody. Ancient Sera was no exception" Diaz responded as they passed more scenes of battle and bloodshed.

The wing ended then turned right, leading further into the museum while a smaller area opened up along the exterior wall. There were restrooms nearby and a V.I. pedestal, the flickering female waiting patiently as the group continued into the Silver Age. Guarded by two smoothbore cannons, they flanked the archway with silent purpose as the tour continued.

Hours passed, the curious groups taking in the views of Seran history from the ages of sword and spear to the seventy nine year global conflict of the Pendulum Wars.

Looking upon a reinforced case holding a broken, centuries piece of Coalition armor, Enrico studied the piece, the ambassador taking in every detail.

Flanking displays of lancer mark ones, obsolete machine guns and other equipment lined the hall, along with other pieces of ancient history, including a scaled down replica of the first armor vehicles and APC's used in that bloody war.

"That's Nassar Embry's armor. He was the Allfather Prime, the founder of the Coalition" Izabel informed, the former Chairman clasping her hands behind her back in the presences of the piece.

"Impressive" Salvador added, the Terran trying to be polite. It was well known how the Seran's linked their lives with their ancestors, a practice that had fallen on Earth. In a way, he was jealous of their unity…their devotion.

Walking toward a towering painting of a white bearded man behind a heavily secured glass, the image held a book while a deep blue chest piece with swirling edges of gold covered the torso. Wearing white robes underneath, the man had a calm demeanor.

"Alexiy Desipich. He wrote the groundwork that would become the Octus Canon and the guiding principles of my people. Order. Diligence. Purity. Labor. Honor. Loyalty. Faith. Humility. To this day, these guidelines are taught, believed by every Seran. Our children must believe it, to ensure stability, growth, and prosperity. Something that the youth of Terra sorely need" Izabel Diaz commented, her studies of Terra revealing the sheer…spoiling of their youth in the previous two centuries.

Enrico Salvador remained silent, the Terran once again jealous of the Seran's society. It was so…structured. Everything he read in the codex about them was a striving to secure the future. Crime was extremely low, unemployment was nearly non-existent while education was readily available to all along with advanced medical care.

Yes, there were fascism elements, that was true. But somehow…The Serans made it work.

"I often wonder, Chairman. If Earth had faced a similar history of conflict, would we have developed our own Octus Canon? A guide for all to ensure stability?"

"Perhaps. If it hadn't been for the Locust, there is a significant chance my society would be more akin to the Alliance. Of course, we will never know" Stepping away, Izabel eyed Wrex, the lone Krogan studying some ancient firearms. He had mostly been quiet, observing with a craggy demeanor.

Letting him be as the lumbering giant talked with a suited Volus, Diaz approached Tabitha, the brunette wife reading about Imulsion and the ensuing conflict that arose from it. Casting her gaze to a planetary map of Sera, it showed the location of COG and UIR states across the trio of continents. Most had been surrounded or flanked by enemies, causing a terrible balance as opposing sides shared numerous borders in a patchwork of states.

"Seventy nine years of global war…That would be like World War One continuing to the dawn of the millennium" It was a terrible prospect to think about as Tabitha moved on with Diaz, her gaze falling upon a tiny model of a Hammer of Dawn satellite.

Soon, the hallway of historical displays ended, opening upon another small lobby of polished marble and pillar. Separating the East and Western wings of the museum, a connecting hallway to the south lead to a pair of rising staircases and the darkened cafeteria and cafes initially observed from the main entrance through a connecting passage.

Clearly, they had come half circle, spending several hours touring the halls.

"What's upstairs?' Wrex asked with a grumble, the Krogan cocking his head slightly toward the side passage and upper floor.

"Mainly art pieces and cultural relics from the assembled ages, along with a few offices for the museum staff"

"Got it" Grumbling, Wrex abandoned the idea of going upstairs, the large alien walking toward the darkened hallway of the next wing. It was dark beyond, the lighting showing nothing except a silent gloom. Looking upward at the stonework, his desire to enter grew.

The Locust War

The words were etched into the upper arch, a simple work of masonry.

It was obvious the wing was so large there were two entrances, each at opposite ends of the museum.

Sasri D'nato took the lead, the purple hued Asari believing she and her group were prepared. Walking into the darkness, her footfalls made a slight echo, the walls closing in as nothing revealed itself.

Suddenly, the lights sprung on, causing D'nato and a few of the Salarians to stumble backward in horrified shock.

It was a Brumak, the snarling monstrosity leaning forward as its rows of razor sharp teeth sheened under the sudden illumination. The large head…the yellowed, rage filled eyes seemed to bore while the titanic arms covered with mounted machine guns tried to enclose upon the Asari. Its hide was a dark, stone colored gray, covered by a ridge of natural armor that ran down its back. A mounted cannon was strapped to its head, the weapon silent as a locust pilot and gunner sat frozen in the saddle, their faces covered by dirty goggles.

"G…Goddess…" trying to pick herself up, D'nato slipped, her eyes momentarily frozen with fear as the replica stood in place, a monument to hell.

The Salvador's took a step back, both audibly gulping as the shock started to wear off.

"Spirits. Is the size accurate?" Heltus inquired, the Turian stepping forward.

"Yes. Approximately forty feet tall. They were living artillery for the horde" Diaz lightly informed, her voice stoic.

Of course everybody knew. They had seen the videos, read the history. But standing before the towering, snarling monster…it was hard not to be horrified by the fact a creature existed.

Walking around the massive beast, Wrex traced his eyes upward when another of the Asari gasped, the female taking another wary step backward.

A Corpser stood along the left wall, its towering mass rising nearly to the ceiling. Taller than the Brumak, the spider like creature had several glowing eyes of yellow set around a mouth filled with teeth that could easily swallow a full grown alien whole. Three of the limbs were raised, pointed downward in a frozen angle of attack. The thorax and abdominals were less armored, the coloration lighter as the beast seemed to stare down in dread.

D'nato seemed to rush past, not wanting to study the horrid beast. The only thing she could think of that was worse was a Thresher Maw, and even then, those creatures couldn't compare to the Seran Riftworm in size.

Heltus stared up at the armored arachnid, his mind wondering how his people would have fared in a similar conflict. Turning away, he really had no words as the gathered group continued.

More models stood, lining the hallway in accurate representations as the group walked slowly. The Seeders and floating Nemacyst. Reavers and Butchers. Grinders and Theron Guards…Kantus and Drones. Even the shrieking model of a Wretch in mid jump was displayed, its razor sharp claws and maw eager to tear and shred.

The hallway turned, the models changing to a more grotesque state. The monsters had changed, covered in glowing polyps and growths. Their skin slagged, dripping with vile, melting flesh as a Lambent Berserker stood, its mouth an open snarl of glowing infection.

Ambassador Dalben wanted to reach out, touch the monstrosity, but he stopped, fearing the beast. He knew it was a model, but its visage was terrifying.

"You don't allow children to see these monsters, do you?" Tabitha Salvador inquired of Diaz, her voice soft with worry and horror. Gazing upward at some sort of lambent arm creature, it was a nightmare to behold.

"Of course we do. How else would they learn of history? School children tour this facility quite often as a way to learn about E-day and the bravery of their ancestor's"

"But that's wrong! They shouldn't be exposed to this type of violence at such an early age!" Tabitha suddenly shouted. "On Earth, we would never show them su-"

Chairman Diaz stepped forward, her eyes glinting like steel. "This isn't Earth. This is Sera. We don't water down our history for the concern of feelings…or a group that finds offense. History must be understood…learned from. So much of Terran history was forgotten or changed just to make minor groups happy, and your following generations suffered for it" Waving her arm to show the lambency and mutated locust, Chairman Diaz managed to remain calm. "I came here as a child myself at the age of eight. I learned of the sacrifices…what my people faced centuries ago. To ignore that…to hide it from our youth…would be spitting in the face of that generation and all they accomplished" Walking past, Izabel's dress swished with her steps, the Chairman waving the group to follow.
"Come. Maybe this will help you understand"

Pushing through two double doors along the right hand wall between two display cases showing preserved Hammer Bursts, Izabel stood to the side as the group filed in.

It was square, the walls and ceilings lined with holographic lens. Approximately one hundred feet long and thirty wide, the ceiling rose to a height of fifty feet. The walls were a sheening metal, smooth and polished.

"I ask you all to remain silent until afterward" Standing to the side, the chairman simply waited as the holographic images began to form.

Broken ruins appeared, the floating embers of ash clogging the air as a somber song began to play with the demonstration. Titled lampposts lined the road, passing by structures covered in ash. Frozen images of people were scrambling, trying to seek shelter as their faces panned. Some crowded in doorways, the embers floating among them. Cracked pavement was littered with the scorched remains of vehicles, the automobiles covered in falling powder as trapped motorists tried to escape their tombs.

A piano began to play, the key tones simple and flowing with sadness.

"All around me are familiar faces…worn out places…worn out faces…"

Bullets kicked up, the low cracks crumbling the ashen pillars of Serans as a Gear sprinted low. Breaking through a crumbling pillar of a woman, the man stumbled. He was bearded, the image of Dominic Santiago a worn and tired façade of suffering and loss as he looked upward at the gray sky.

"Their tears are filling up their glasses. No expression…no expression…"

A drone appeared through the flitting ashes, the beast crashing through another pillared corpse of dust. Snarling with a silent roar, the monster raised its rifle as the ancient warrior accepted his fate.

A gun blast ripped through its flesh, sending it sprawling. Marcus Fenix appeared, the Seran war hero handing over the shotgun to Santiago. Firing, bullets ripped through the ashen air at more locust drones appeared, the silent roars a vile menace. Hammerbursts spat fire, the line of drones unleashing destruction among the floating ash and embers.

Tumbling over a broken pile of rubble, the two men reunited with the rest of the infamous Delta Squad. Anya Stroud fired her lancer rifle, the blonde woman of immense beauty and intelligence unflinching in the face of danger as the squad became surrounded.

"And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had…"

A silent explosion burst, spraying shrapnel across tumbled brick as the locust enclosed. Glowing, tendrilled limbs burst from the ground, the lambency parasite ensnaring three of the drones, spreading the infection as bullets ripped through the air.

The gears of Delta became horrified, the newest foe a nightmare to behold as flailing appendages began to attack the locust with impunity.

"I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take. When people run in circles, it's a very, very mad world. Mad…world…"

The five ancient heroes continued to fight, the muted battle a madness of hell and horror against the locust and lambent. Ash fell, floated among the charred ruins and the dead, the frozen pillars falling to nothing in a morbid silence.

The recording finally stopped, frozen as Marcus Fenix and a drone locked into a chainsaw duel, the sparks a frozen point of light among the sorrow of ruins and rubble.

Silently approaching with a minimal amount of noise, Izabel Diaz held out her hand, grasping the holographic ash. "Everything my people have done. Everything we've built…every newborn child…every newly founded colony…every farm and field of grain…it's all because of them" Turning to face Tabitha Salvador, the chairman's eyes were bereft with remembrance and reverence. "You ask how we could show this to our young? I say how could we not? After everything those men and women did to secure our future, we must honor them. We must remember them. And we must survive…no matter the cost" Curling her fist as it fell, the Seran female didn't speak, her eyes studying each of the heroes.

The images finally faded, leaving the gathered ambassadors and their parties in the room. None spoke for a minute, most unwilling to disturb the silence.

"That song…I would like to hear the rest of it. It's very…sorrowful" D'nato asked, her voice hollow as she studied the Chairman.

"The Serans…they may be difficult and prideful. Their beliefs nearly fascist in ideals. But the challenges they've faced…the horrors and hardships…"

Sometimes, it was easy to forget how close they came to full extinction. Then rising out of the embers of that war to establish themselves as a galactic power in the span of her lifetime. It was an amazing accomplishment. At least, that's what D'nato thought.

"That's all that remains, just those few verses. We don't know who sang it or wrote it, only that during reconstruction, they found a single recording in the ruins. We lost…so much of our history and culture. Stories and art. Music and poetry…Things that will never be seen again. Another terrible cost of that conflict" Breathing deeply, the leader of the Coalition straightened her back. Leaving the room without another word, she left the group of visitors alone.

"You offended her, Terran. Insulted their ways and beliefs. You should be well aware of their pride and reverence for their ancestors" Ambassador Heltus informed, his silver gaze falling upon Tabitha who seemed to wilt in embarrassment.

Mrs. Salvador simply nodded, knowing that it would have to be her to try and smooth things over. Relations between Earth and Sera were already touchy, and here she put her foot in her mouth within a day.

"Of course" Knowing she had been in the wrong, the Terran hurried after the chairman to offer an apology as the rest filtered out of the room to the main hallway.

The wide, cavernous passage turned at ninety degrees, the lighting above illuminating the sitting monolith of a Grindlift and King Raven.

Wrex grinned, looking up at the assault derrick. There was still damage, abrasions and scorch marks, along with several bullet impacts. Dangling above were the grind pods, each silent as models of Gears stood at the sides thirty feet above.

"Now that…that's pretty damn cool" Wrex grumbled in approval, the Krogan imagining himself taking the war to the locust long ago.

Heltus walked forward with a few of the Asari, running his hand over the rough and cold metalwork of the King Raven. Faded stains filled the troop bay, along with bullet impacts along the side. "Ever since we learned of the Serans…of the locust they fought. My people have wondered. Would we have survived such a conflict? To be pushed to our absolute limit and beyond? To rebuild and not fall into barbarianism?"

"I pray none of us ever have to find out. The last conflict was already terrible, we don't need another one. Especially a threat that could cleanse our galaxy of civilization" D'nato added, the newly minted Ambassador to Sera silently praying to the goddesses that such a conflict would never arise.

"Come. Let us continue. I believe the next hall has artifacts that belonged to the members of Delta Squad. Quite a fascinating collection of military relics" Dalben added hastily, the Salarian quite eager to continue and learn first hand.

The hallway turned again, a sharp right angle. Entering, each side of the wide passage was lined with ten foot tall replicas of those fallen heroes, each with their own plaque that glittered like gold. The facial tones, skin hues…even the eyes had been crafted to match every detail, so revered were these men and women.

Anya Stroud

Damon Baird

Augustus Cole

Victor Hoffman

Samantha Bryne

Richard Prescott

Dominic Santiago

Tai Kaliso

Marcus Fenix

Each statue was enclosed in glass cases, many of them wearing those old armors as they held weapons in display.

At the end of the row of heroes, Chairman Diaz was standing before the statue of Marcus Fenix as the ambassador's wife looked like a scolded child. Situated in the middle of the hall, the man had two of his fingers pressed to his ear, his rifle held in one hand as his face showed the weight of a world on his shoulders.

"That's his actual rifle and armor, Tabitha. Same with that do-rag. May not look like much, but the armor, weapons and clothing were all donated by the families. Their price is incalculable as historical and cultural relics" Lightly explaining, Izabel extended her hand to indicate Anya Stroud. "What type of heroes did you grow up with, Mrs. Salvador? Entertainment stars? Superheroes of fiction? Wizards? Your media characters? Anya Stroud encompasses everything a female Seran should strive for. Strength. Resilience. Intelligence. Leadership. Motherhood. She re-founded the Coalition after the war and even now, I try to strive to honor her legacy" Clasping her hands, Izabel knew the other female had no rebuttal.

Dalben practically pressed his face to the glass containing Damon Baird, the Salarian taking in every detail of the blonde man with his signature goggles. Talking excitedly with his fellow Salarians, the slender alien finally spoke louder. "He laid groundwork for your Slipspace drive, correct? Yes, historical records quite clear. High intelligence, problem solving, and a notable asshole, if I use the term correctly?"

Surprisingly, Diaz laughed at that. A warm, unashamed laugh that filled the hall. "He was. By all accounts he was a grade-A asshole. But, you can't argue with results. His efforts after the war were invaluable toward energy production, resettlement, and reconstruction. He even invented the fabricator"

"Fascinating. Would have loved to watch his thinking process"

"From what we know about him, he could find what was wrong with a machine, and just fix it. Even machinery he had never seen before. An intellect that only comes along once in a generation" Stepping away, she let the aliens be, each drawn to those lifelike statues. Eyeing several of them standing near Marcus Fenix, she walked over.

"Hey chairman? Is it true he drove a Brumak once?" Wrex asked offhandedly with a causal tone, the reptilian staring up at the scarred Sergeant. His face was a permanent scowl, the patch of hair below his lip and signature do-rag covering his hair. The gear symbol was faded, but still seen as the armor covering his torso was a pitted mess of abrasions, scratches, and bullet scars.

"Yes. Right before Jacinto was sunk. The accomplishments by all these men and women. They are legendary. Almost to the point of disbelief, the but records don't lie"

"Gotta say…He'd probably lead a clan if he was Krogan. From what I know, he sounded like somebody you don't mess with" Glancing left, Wrex stepped toward the statue of Tai Kaliso, the man's military mohawk and goatee a black of hair. Wearing a set of armor, the large man had swirling facial tattoos, much like the Turian's.

"You know Chairman, I know a Lea Kaliso. A Sergeant. Fought the Toads at Convel, dropped in the first wave at Toad One, then did it again at Toad Two. Fought like a Krogan in the middle of battlerage too. She talked about him once, said it was her duty to fight, to follow the steps of her warrior ancestors" Looking up at Tai, Wrex shook his head. "Shame what the locust did to him, hanging him on meat hooks. A dirty death"

Diaz blinked suddenly, the admission quite unexpected. The way Tai Kaliso perished wasn't very well known, especially with the Krogan or any race for that matter.

"Quite a strange set of circumstances, the two of you meeting. Did she survive?"

"Yeah. Think she's here right now on the planet. South Island's I think? Maybe I should stop by?" Idly stroking his large chin, the lizard contemplated the thought.

"It can be arranged if you'd like?"

The offer was simple, but Urdnot Wrex found himself liking the idea more and more as the tour finally wrapped up in the next twenty minutes, the assembled males and females breaking for a late lunch in one of the nearby restaurants of New Ephyra.

New Ephyra. 24th of Gale, 425 A.E.

Heavy rain splattered the windows, mixing with high winds that tore through the canyons of steel and glass. Advisory's for air traffic had gone out, grounding transports for the next few hours. A slew of lightning cracked across the angry horizon, mixing with rolling thunder.

Sitting in her office chair, Izabel sipped a drink, letting Johnny Cash's Hurt play softly from the music player resting upon the nearby bar. While normally she was quite dismissive of most cultural creations of the Terrans, there was something she enjoyed about the long dead musician. Something…Seran about his songs.

Taking another sip of the amber liquid as the storm raged, Izabel finally turned away, bringing her attention to Hanna Salton.

"So, have the Terrans tried to force a fresh proposal?"

"No. Looks like Ambassador Salvador and his wife are more interested in just maintaining decent relations. Same with the Alliance as a whole. I am still alarmed by this…Zhang, however"

"Remind me"

"He wanted to send fully loaded colony ships to our borders, forcing them open. He seems to believe we are beggars. Of course, the majority of the Alliance crushed it, but a few of their states wanted to try" Hanna crossed her legs, the blonde mother and minister taking a small drink from her own tumbler.

"Border patrols will increase. They try, we blow them out of the sky. After a warning shot of course" Smiling lightly, Diaz felt a light rumble as thunder boomed beyond the security windows.

"Not exactly what I had in mind for immigration" Sighing in defeat, Hanna had hoped to bridge the gap somehow, but neither species saw eye to eye on numerous matters. That had been last fall, and here they were, rapidly approaching the first anniversary of the war.

"Probably for the best. Let them stay across the galaxy" Feeling a sense of relaxation, Diaz was quite satisfied that the Ambassadors and their parties had settled in with no issues…aside from a new tank for the Hanar. A larger one had been ordered, but would take another two weeks for full instillation. Then of course…the Volus were already trying to push a meeting for trade. Same with the Asari for establishing a luxury cruise line to Azura Prime. During the war she could crush any notions. But now? With nearly a year of peace?

Diaz doubted she could really prevent such an industry forming between the Cog and Citadel. Especially with the prominent tourism industry of Azura Prime.

Then of course, elections were next year, and she would have to start campaigning again.

"Should I even run again? Our navy is strong, we've increased our worlds and our enemies lay defeated and humbled" She crushed the self doubt in moments. Of course she would run again, if only to ensure Seran strength and prosperity.

"That group of scientists have set up camp near the death site of the Riftworm. Apparently, Doctor Maria Mueller is eager to study the life there. There are a few nearby towns, so they aren't completely in the wild. Still, we provided them with a few rifles for self defense. Gave them an emergency beacon as well"

"Good. Last thing we need is a salarian getting killed by a horse or a mauling by a Grizzle" Looking at Minister Salton, Diaz felt a small tug of pity. Her push for Terran immigration had backfired horrifically, nixing any chances of running for Chairman in the future. Yes, her office was making create strides in the settling of Halo, Delta Sigmus, and Hammer Ridge, and she was great in that role. But above that…Izabel really didn't see Hanna winning many votes next year.

"Turians seem to be having a bloody time on Pandora. The subject came up when I communicated with General Fenix about the planet and the release of all the C.A.G. personnel. He sent a report. Every week there's a few deaths or wounded despite adopting the 'shoot first' mentality. Nearly a full company of dead since they established their base, but the loss rate is falling"

"Not our problem. They wanted a base there, they got one on a world nearly as deadly as Sera or Tuchanka. I've been keeping appraised of their losses. Salarians fare worse though. Once one of the pack…Vociraptors gets a hold with those teeth, they simply die of shock and blood loss. A small hamlet was wiped out by the little beasts just two weeks ago. But then, they knew the risks when they joined the war effort and accepted a plot of land"

"Still, we should increase our efforts at protecting the colonists, despite their homeworld. After all, we still control the system"

Diaz slowly nodded, finishing her tumbler of alcohol. "Your right. Won't do to have monster plants eating the settlers"

"That's what the Hierarchy gets for forcing my hand"

Obviously, she didn't hate them, but that point of the Onyx Accords had been a sore spot for several months. Now…it looked like the Council bit off a little more than they could chew. Still, Hanna was correct. Increasing security efforts on that hostile world would be needed for the foreseeable future.

Slewing lightning cracked across the sky once more, the horizon almost dark as razor hail began to fall upon the city. It was uncommon for late spring, but it did happen. Blaring warning sirens began to warble, warning the citizens to stay inside as the storm worsened.

Ring of Fire began to play, the melody quite enjoyable as the Chairman and Colonial Minister poured themselves another drink, each letting the roiling storm punish the city.

---

Night was rapidly approaching over the Sorano Ocean, the star of Onyx casting a blood red haze along the reflective waves. The jungles of Irohma Island still rose with mist and vapor, the canopy of green burning off the waters from the tropical rains of the early afternoon. Alohma glistened with light, the minor city a vibrant speck along the curved bay and harbor in the shade of an extinct volcano.

Some minor spaceport traffic rose, but the shuttle carrying Wrex shot past, a courteous gesture from the Chairman to visit a wartime friend.

"Bet Kur will look like this in a few years" Grunting with a growl of approval from his seat, Wrex thought about his farm, but dismissed it. The Serans had provided a few men to watch over his land, a temporary situation until his return.

Slicing over a few outlying villages and towns, the craft began to settle over a spanning road. The kickup of air caused sugar cane to sway beyond a pulsing, blue fence, the technology identical to his own back on Pandora.

Finally settling with a light cushion of motion, Wrex stood. He really didn't have luggage, just currency and his normal armor.

"Thanks for the ride" Passing the pilot, he stepped down onto the road, eyeing the plantation as dusk grew deeper with every moment. Shrugging, he simply walked along the driveway, passing a few floating farming bots. A couple field hands looked at him from a worker barracks, their day done as they sat on chairs, enjoying a local beer.

Approaching the main house, he stopped as a man opened the front door. Graying hair and facial tattoos were very distinctive, along with the large shotgun clutched in his hands.

"You lost?" Malosi Kaliso asked with a mild threat, his gaze studying the alien upon his property.

Wrex stopped, keeping a healthy distance as the armed man studied with experienced scrutiny.

"Yeah. Lea around? Know her from the war"

"Is that right?" Not moving for a few moments, Malosi contemplated the Krogan's words then cocked his head. "She's out back" Stepping back in the house, the door loudly shut, the heavy wood making a dull thud.

Wrex had no illusions that old man wasn't watching his every move from the multiple windows. Shrugging since he didn't get shot, he walked around the large, sprawling plantation. Entering the back yard, the repulsor technology wrapped around the property, while a reinforced metal gate lead into the jungle. It looked sturdy, but Wrex really wasn't about to explore.

Some of the native life here could be just as deadly as Tuchanka or near his farm.

"By the Allfathers? Wrex? What in the fuck are you doing here?" Lea asked incredulously, the woman standing up from a patio chair. Setting down her beer, she approached as the Krogan chuckled. "Your chairman invited me for that whole…embassy opening thing. Guess my awesomeness is recognized" Chuckling at the light joke, both reveled in it for a moment.

"I heard about it on the news, but that was a week ago" Waving the male forward, she offered him a seat and another beer from a cooler. Plopping back down in her chair, Wrex did the same, the large reptile eagerly drinking.

"Yeah. Did a little sightseeing over the last week. Visited Anvil Gate, Azura, the Ilima City sinkhole. Even took an underwater tour around Jacinto. It was…informative" Shrugging, the Krogan continued. Did think about trying to hunt a grizzle, but didn't bring any weapon's"

"You? Without your lancer? That's hard to believe" Smirking lightly, she drank as Wrex gave a light rumble of humor.

"Blame security. I would've brought it with" Lifting the beer, he finished off the bottle quickly as his eyes tracked the property. "So, this is where you live now?"

"Beats having the Toads trying to blow my head off" Looking back at the house, she could see her mother in the kitchen window, watching them both with a critical eye. Sighing, Lea shook her head.

"Something eating ya?"

"My mom tried to set me up on some date with some clerk at her bank last week. Just…barely after I came back here, she's been trying to control everything. Birthing centers, the push for children of my own, men that I am not interested in at all. Sure, I do plan on doing my part, having children eventually, but I have a good sixty to seventy years before my age becomes a factor. I'm looking short term for now, taking a few classes, might try to start a business, but fuck, it's annoying. I'm a fucking Gear. My grandfather was a Gear. I'm a warrior…a soldier and I'll be damned if I let some man who stood behind a desk stick his cock in me" Finishing her beer with obvious displeasure, she opened another, the frustration palpable while drinking.

"Could always get with an Asari? They're desperate for Seran genetics. Adds to their species" Wrex offhandedly suggested.

"I might, just to spite her"

A loud hooted howl came from the jungle, then a different beastly scream.

"Huh…sounds like a Wakaatu. Damn thing nearly killed me during the rite at the new year. But I got it's feather and a new tattoo" Pointing, there was a new swirling line right below her right cheek, a sheer black among her tanned skin and brunette hair.

"If it nearly killed you, probably something I should try to hunt myself. Can't come to the Seran homeworld and not kill something that wants to eat me"

"We have some spare rifles, we can go into the jungle and flush something out tomorrow. Maybe a Tusk Boar…they can gore you pretty damn good if you're not careful" Smirking, Lea grinned at her war buddy as the idea lingered.

"Now that sounds fun" Finishing his second beer, Wrex looked over his shoulder toward the patio door, a few kids watching him with amazement in their eyes. "Family?"

"Yup, younger siblings" Sipping again, Lea enjoyed the humidity and heat, the environment coursing through her blood.

"Hey Lea? Why not come with me to Pandora? Not to work on my farm, but for yourself. In a couple years, its gonna explode with settlers and commerce, might be able to make quite the living if you act now. Plus, don't have to worry about an inferior male knocking you up. Hell, with my people, only the strongest and best get to lay with our females"

Lea stopped, the bottle half raised toward her lips as more hoots and cries came from the jungle. Dusk had finally settled, bringing about the glowing blues and greens of lightflies as they danced and flittered through the air. "That's…really not a bad idea"

"I'm near Grav Lake and Kur. Somebody with your skills and experience? Probably could become rich providing security for construction crews. Or set up a bar?"

"Really? A bar? And what, shoot the shit with every dumbass Terran that thinks they have a shot of getting in my pants? I'd rather shoot at crap then do that" Waving offhandedly, Lea dismissed the idea of running a bar…anywhere. Just wasn't in her blood to do that.

The patio door slid open after a few minutes of silent contemplation, Malosi having placed his weapon away once he was satisfied that the alien visitor hadn't lied about knowing his grand-daughter. "Lea. Dinners about ready. Your friend can join us if he wants?"

"We're having grilled fish and some vegetables" Lea added, brushing away a few strands of hair while nursing her beer.

"Heh. Sounds good. Could use a good meal" Standing up, the two soldiers walked inside, their stomachs rumbling as Tailin almost burst with excitement as he bombarded Wrex with an assault of questions only a seven year old boy could come up with.

---

The Jungle around Alae steamed with humidity, the sudden shower making it thick enough for a knife. Stalking slowly with her lancer, Lea stepped over the game trail as her grandfather and Wrex followed behind. They heard the grunting snouts of animals, the growls coming from the thickness of green as the sunlight of early morning tried to pour through the canopy.

None spoke, each just trying to maintain a silence as their boots squelched in mud and rot.

The smells were everywhere, a mixture of death, life and everything in between. Wrex stepped slowly, following Lea. Clutching the longshot, he ducked under a fallen log, the trio lightly sloshing through some stinking water logged with dirt and algae. Nearly up to his waist, the two Seran's didn't seem to notice as they climbed out, their faces a sheen of sweat and dripping jungle water.

Vines dangled down beyond, the tendrils mixing with fronds and leaves as Lea stopped, her hand darting upward as a warning. Nearby grunting and growls flowed from the foliage, the source nearby, but hidden. Flicking her fingers forward, she eased down behind another fallen trunk covered with moss and insects after another dozen meters.

Wrex peered through some fronds and vines, the greenery only partially blocking his view. About fifty feet away near the base of tree was a Tusk Boar, the creature greedily eating some fungal plants.

It was large, probably a good thirty pounds of meat and muscle. Covered in a splotchwork of light, brown fur and dark spots, the beast slightly turned at a noise, showing off its prominent tusks. They were curved and nearly a foot long, ending in sharpened points after curling upwards past the snout.

Setting his rifle on the fallen tree, Wrex flicked off the safety, the small noise causing the boar to stiffen. Looking his way, the beast locked eyes, noticing the three. Unleashing a growl, it charged, its short but powerful legs carrying it quickly across the jungle floor.

Wrex fired, the bullet smashing into the snout and throat beyond, causing a fresh scream of dying agony. Struggling to stand, the boar almost made it as Wrex fired again, the spent brass flinging away.

Killing the beast, the Krogan grinned as he stood up. "Now that was fun. Hey, boar tastes good, right?"

"Damn right it does. Now let's get it back to the house, we can carve it up and have a big barbeque. My employees will love it" Malosi added, the old Gear waving toward Lea. "Your friend can carry it. After all, he shot it"

"As long as I get the first piece" Grunting, Wrex hefted the fallen beast over his large shoulders, the trio walking back toward the plantation as another sudden rain fell.

Eagle Nebula. Amun System, 34th of Gale, 425 A.E.

Located nearly eight hundred light years within the Hegemony's borders from the System's Alliance, the system in question was home to five planets, including a green tinted garden world rife with forests, biomes, inland seas and sprawling swamp lands. With a heavy Batarian population, the planet…and system in question was facing a horrific recession brought upon by the harsh peace terms.

The Citadel and Coalition demanded the lowest castes be paid…to receive education, but the merchant houses, the conglomerates and sprawling industrial families had no desire…no means to pay those unwashed masses.

Now, things were reaching a head as Grand Shan Pod'neb asked for more…more materials and goods to ship toward the victors. More raw ore and rampant inflation that made the upper crust of their society growl and seethe with hate.

But then…a small miracle came in the form of information. A schematic for those wonderful engine upgrades that the Citadel tried to keep for themselves.

Almost immediately, work began at the shipyards, the anger of naval officers, the wealthy houses, and the military pushing the new engines into production. Vessels were reworked, giving them a wonderful tactical advantage for coming conflict and raids.

And if some pirates or slaver merchants also happened to build them? Well, that happened somewhere else, away from the Council's eyes.

The planet of Bast hung in the murky ink of space, its tumbling moons reflecting the bile-yellow of the hydrogen-nitrogen gas giant. Several ships traveled between the moons, the local pirate bases vastly overlooked by the naval shipyard.

The space slips for vessels were nearly overflowing, the war having gutted the naval arm and operationg costs. But that didn't stop the work from being done as suited workers labored at all hours to upgrade the engines of destroyers, frigates, light cruisers, and the lone battleship that was currently undergoing resupply. It had been upgraded first, a priority over a few smaller ships as the sparks of labors continued among the work crews in the void.

A sprawling visual window revealed the cosmos along the main concourse, along with the seemingly endless structs, supports, and connecting passages of the Amun shipyard. With a few eateries and drinking establishments nearby, the smells of food and drink flowed as several flatscreens dispensed the latest news.

Watching with a critical eye, the captain of The Vile studied his flagship, the vessel still sporting faded scorch marks and replaced armor from a battle with the Alliance. While shorthanded somewhat, the war vessel did have enough to function properly, same with the majority of the light cruisers. But the destroyer and frigates? Most were bare skeleton crews as military cutbacks sent more into unemployment.

But, they were already returning, crowding the ship yards.

Chuckling darkly, Captain Toko Cas'gark knew that most felt betrayal…rage, and most importantly, hatred to the Council, the Terrans, and the Serans. While he was quite aware that a renewed military conflict would be a disaster, there was a way around it.

After all, if a group of disenfranchised Batarians suddenly seized a few dozen ships and escaped, well, that wasn't his fault. After all, with the military cutbacks and lack of funding, there was no way to track even a minor number of those stolen vessels.

Watching as a few destroyers left their slips, the smaller craft flared sublight, pushing away before suddenly jumping to FTL, their newest upgrades pushing them toward the Mass Relay at Imur and the greater galaxy beyond.

"What a shame we couldn't pursue. I hope they don't attack any colonies or take slaves" Talking to himself, Toko once again chuckled, knowing that more would be 'stolen' in the coming days and weeks.

By the time the Council found out, most of these ships would be in the wind, raising a fresh hell of piracy and slaughter.

Of course, he still needed to retain command of his flotilla for combat. At least one hundred fifty ships. The rest? Why they would be scrapped according to official records.

Increased volume from a wall mounted flatscreen blared suddenly, the Batarian news caster smiling as his four eyes blinked. Standing in front of the Anhur Government district, the male practically shouted into his microphone.

"Just moments ago, Governor Gern Drapsoh declared that the Western Hegemony will no longer be controlled by the vile, democratic tyranny of Khar'shan and the traitor Pod'neb! Naming himself the Great Shan, his first declaration is the establishment of a new empire, The Batarian Star Belt Nation! As of this moment, all treaties and obligations are void with our war for independence!"

The reporter continued, his voice washing over the mutterings and rumblings of customers at the nearby bar. Growling, Toko Cas'gark turned and marched, his destination The Vile.

"Damn fool! He was supposed to wait another month!" Snarling unintelligible curses at the wealthy politician on the planet of Anhur, the officer marched through hallways as he contemplated the fallout of declaring weeks early.

"Now Adek and those systems will have to break away too, and it will probably be bloody. I just hope the Seran's don't care enough to get embroiled in our civil war" But Toko knew that if the Coalition desired, they could drop full fleets around any world they desired.

S.B.N. forces would have to be careful. Not only against their old masters and the traitors, but the galaxy as a whole. Still, Captain Cas'gark was slightly relieved that they were closer to the Alliance than the Coalition. If any conflict arose with the Serans, the Amun system would likely be ignored, the brutish two-eyes striking closer targets near their own border.

Stepping through the airlock to his ship, he quickly brushed past his crew, making his way to the bridge. Battle was coming, and Cas'gark needed his ships ready before the Hegemony struck.

Earth 2nd of Rise, 425 A.E.

Fort Benning was old, established at the end of the first world war. Sprawling in the former state of Georgia and the old United States, the fort had gone through numerous expansions and upgrades, the location still viable for the Alliance in this modern age of aliens, space ships, and a galaxy full of hostile life.

It was here that John Shepard had volunteered for the ICT program, along with dozens of others who had proven themselves during the Eastern Galactic War.

Standing for Interplanetary Combatives Training, it was the Terran answer toward Asari Commandoes, Turian Spec-Ops, and the Seran Onyx Guard. A rigorous training program with a nearly sixty percent wash out rate, it was designed for only the best of the best, and those men and women would be needed to face down the threats of the galaxy.

Nearly half had washed out in the first two weeks, the rigorous, brutal training pushing the remainder past their limits. Sixty days of hell had shown John that his former training in the infantry had been a cakewalk compared to the drills, training and sheer mental effort required.

But he persevered…thrived as others struggled.

Then, he graduated, along with a mere eighteen out of nearly fifty, including a scarred David Anderson, his artificial eye held among the pitted skin grafts of war wounds sustained during the naval battle of Vio'shelek.

Currently, John held the rank of N1, a stylized symbol across his newly minted armor. But many believed he had the right stuff…that strength to lead. Time and experience would only tell.

He had been promised two weeks leave after graduation, but that had been canceled yesterday upon the sudden outbreak of a three sided civil war in the Hegemony. Reports already suggested naval and infantry engagements across half a dozen systems, some very close to Alliance space. So, new orders came through, his superiors already utilizing the freshly minted special forces soldier.

Briskly walking toward the transport with a duffle slung over his shoulder, the craft was going to head toward high orbit…then his new assignment at Elysium.

Alright. I think here is a pretty good spot to end the chapter. Still a little slow with ambassadors, farming, and a jungle hunt, but…coming civil war for the Batarians along with piracy. So that should be fun!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! I'm sure the COG won't sit around waiting for some pirates to attack though haha.

Also, I do have other stories. Might not be the best, but check them out if you enjoy multiverse travel, magic, zombies, insanity and violence!

Thehappy