AN: Ok, so this is going to be an attempt to create a comprehensive and realistic take on the First Contact War. Whilst it will be mostly keeping to the hard lore events such as how it started and the fate of General Williams. Everything in and around them along with the gory details are pretty much fair game. I will also be changing a number of background elements such human weaponry circa-2157 as well things like the Alliance's rank structure (where Bioware was clearly drunk) whilst still keeping it within the spirit of the Mass Effect universe. This won't be a "humans developed outside of the Reapers' plan" type humanity. But anyway, this will be the first story I've written since I was back in Year 11 (10th Grade for my friends across the pond) so critique is very welcome, but please keep it civil. So thankyou to anybody who takes the time to read this. I hope you enjoy.
[+]
13-05-2157
0445 [Arcturus Time]
SSV BRISTOL, Athens-class light cruiser
Taskgroup 63.04, 63rd Scout Flotilla
Lovell-Beta Relay, Lovell System.
Commander Elizabeth 'Beth' Norris awoke in a start to the ever-insufferable blare of her comm beeping next to her headboard. Bloody Hell! What time is it? Her honest-to-God analogue Swiss watch, passed down through her family, gave her the unwelcome answer. 0445? Ugh! With a heavy sigh she mourned the hours of sleep she'd now never have. Reaching over, she keyed the obtrusively glowing orange button that connected her to whoever had decided they wanted to be her least favourite person.
"Captain" she answered, trying to mask the tiredness in her voice.
"Captain Ma'am, Officer of the Watch. You wanted to be informed when we we're ready to commence the Relay Reactivation procedures?" Came the chirpy accented voice of one of her Deck Officers, Quebecois Second Lieutenant Emma Ouellet. Damn! I did tell her that. Not like she'd ever actually be angry at one of her officers for keeping her informed. She never wanted to be in a situation where her not being aware of an issue led to her making the wrong decision. Not that Ouellet likely knew her policy. She was pretty green after all. To the ship and the Navy in general. Only 9 months as an Ensign under her belt and fresh from the junior navigation course a week before joining the ship. In fact, this was only the second time Beth had noticed her being on watch. Nevertheless, collaborating reports from the Navigator and her XO showed that she was quickly proving to be a competent, if over-enthusiastic, officer. Sometimes annoyingly over-enthusiastic.
"Thank you, Ouellet. Anything happen overnight?"
"Nothing significant Ma'am. The Bannockburn had a near miss with a meteoroid but Lidar scans indicate it was a single rogue rock. Oh! And the Chief Engineer reported that they were unable to repair the outer starboard engine nacelle during the night as planned. Said he'd give a full rundown in the morning…but he did indicate we'll need to drydock to fix it"
Beth resisted the urge to sigh. 'Nothing significant' she says…I still have an engine kaput but no big deal… She adopted her best disappointed mum voice, a tone her kids knew all too well, "That sounds pretty damn significant to me Lieutenant. A 25% drop in thruster output could make the difference in us avoiding a killing blow or taking a slug through the bow. In future, I'd like to be kept informed of anything that limits the capabilities of my ship. Even if it means waking me. Is that understood?"
"Y..yes Ma'am. Sorry Ma'am," stuttered Ouellet, the chirpiness in her voice extinguished, a distinct aura of fear taking its place. That always put a bad taste in her mouth. She really didn't like the idea of her crew fearing her like some kind of malevolent despot. Didn't mean she wasn't prepared to lay down the law when necessary but ultimately, she'd found an authoritative maternal command style worked best for her.
"That's alright Lieutenant. Just know for next time hm? Anything else to report?"
"No Ma'am," her confidence already returning.
"Very good. Give me 30 mins to shower and eat, and I'll be right there. Carry on Lieutenant."
"Aye Ma'am".
[+]
After taking a quick shower and getting dressed into a fresh set of fatigues, Beth went down to the Officer's Wardroom for some early breakfast. Meal times were normally arranged around watch changes, so a proper breakfast was still hours away. Fortunately, there would always be cereals and toasting facilities available for those who needed it. Beth grabbed a packet of Weetabix cereal and poured herself a steaming hot cup of tea before sitting down to eat.
With just herself and her breakfast, Beth's mind wandered back, as it often did, over her career. She had been coming up on her 6th year as a junior officer in the [British] Royal Space Flotilla, something she'd aspired for most of her teenage life. It had been going well by all accounts and she had a promising career ahead of her in the RSF. But come 2148 and the ratification of the Systems Alliance Charter, the prospects for the many nation-state space forces looked increasingly limited. So, against the better judgement of many of her peers and superiors, she took the plunge, resigned her commission and transferred to the brand-new Systems Alliance Navy. Beth was amongst the increasing number of people that believed that only unity would truly allow humanity to prosper across the stars. And with that thought in mind, transfer really was a no-brainer. The next 9 years had had many challenges and a few setbacks, but here she was: Captain of a beautiful, shiny new warship fresh from the Martian Fleet Yards.
Her ship was the 512m long SSV Bristol, a state-of-the-art Athens-class light cruiser. Designed to lead, fight alongside and very importantly, keep up with, a squadron of frigates. Hence, she lacked the armour traditionally seen on her heavier and larger cousins, whilst still managing to keep much of the firepower. The Bristol was lined with hundreds of silos that housed to a wide menagerie of weaponry: anti-ship torpedoes; defensive and cruise missiles; deployable electronic warfare jammers and a variety of decoys. In addition to her missiles, the Bristol was equipped with a new state-of-the-art point defence system known as the General ARea Defence Integration Anti-spacecraft Network, or GARDIAN system. What it amounted to was dozens of centrally co-ordinated, high-powered defensive lasers that would shoot down incoming torpedoes and strike craft. She also was large enough to boast her own embarked flight of four strike fighters that could be utilised for screening, reconnaissance and combat air patrol. But the final and grandest string to the Bristol's bow was her immense spinal mounted Class-IIA mass accelerator cannon. A devastating weapon that could accelerate a 10-kilo ferrous slug to a fraction of lightspeed and deliver the kinetic force equivalent to a 19-kiloton nuclear bomb…every 3 seconds. Powerful enough that their use against targets in-atmosphere was heavily restricted and outright banned in regards to garden worlds.
All in all, the Bristol packed a mighty punch and she was a damn good ship with a competent crew, something Beth couldn't be prouder of. Moreover, she was beyond eager to make this maiden deployment of her first real command a success. Hopefully this Relay activation would be a solid, if not the most exciting start.
She was shaken out of her reverie by someone sitting down opposite her with a plate of toast and a mug of coffee. She looked up to make eye contact with her Italian XO, Lieutenant Commander Luca Moretti. He was tall handsome man in his late 30s like herself, He had dashing Mediterranean features and an award-winning smile. A smile that he never showed in-front of the crew as to maintain the stern attitude necessary of his position. She considered him a good friend and was about the only person on board that she could afford to let her hair down with. But that was it. They were both still consummate professionals and so friends was as much as they would ever be`. Luca Moretti may be handsome, sure, but her career and her children took precedence over any new man in her life.
"Morning Luca. I presume Lt Ouellet ruined your beauty sleep to?" Beth said, returning his smile.
"Don't you know it? Couldn't you have got Navs to plot a slower route? I really could have done with a couple more hours" Luca replied, the smile growing a little tighter.
"Yeah? Well we've got a schedule to keep, so join the club." She paused a moment to finish her cereal. "Did she tell you that the stokers couldn't get the starboard outer fixed? I've yet to have the full report from Voigt but clearly their solution didn't work."
"To be fair, it was always going to be a longshot. At least they tried."
"I guess. New ships, eh? Always something that need ironing out."
"True true. But hey, as long as nothing else goes wrong, we should be able to soldier on until the end of the deployment. We can get this relay activated at least." He offered.
Beth's mug had frozen half way to her mouth as her eyes narrowed at her XO.
"W..what?" He asked nervously.
"You did NOT just say 'As long as nothing else goes wrong.' If anything does, I'm holding you personally responsible," she pouted in mock outrage.
His wide grin quickly spread back over his face before taking a hefty bite out of his toast. Beth just shook her head and finished the last of her tea before it got cold. Nothing's worse than cold tea.
"Well, I'm heading up to the CIC. I'll see you later, Luca." Beth stood up to take her bowl and mug over to the serving hatch. As she was about to leave the Wardroom, she had a thought. Turning back to Luca and said:
"Oh, and Luca? Could we move the Department Heads meeting forward to 1700? I've got a vid-call with my daughter at 1800."
"Sure thing Ma'am. How IS Hanna?"
"Honestly? Having a hard time adjusting to the new school and she's made her displeasure about living on Arcturus VERY clear." She released a defeated sigh before continuing, "Can't say I really blame her though. You know this is the second time in as many years she's had to abandon all her friends? Maybe I should have let her stay with her cousin after all." This was hardly the first time Beth had lamented the effect her career had on her children but what could she do? At least Harry didn't care where they lived as long as it had fast extranet connection…But Hannah was always the social butterfly.
"I'm…sure she'll be fine." Luca replied, his heart clearly not in it.
She glanced at him, not even trying to hide her scepticism, "reassuring X, very convincing." *Sigh* "Well up and at 'em, Good chat Luca"
"Anytime. Ciao Ma'am."
[+]
Beth casually strode into the CIC and beelined for the Captain's Chair directly aft of the central holotank. The Bristol's Combat Information Centre was pretty standard for an Alliance warship: a large, rectangular compartment dominated by a large central holotank. Two lines of workstations were arranged on each side. The inner stations consisted of the most important command staff: The Gunnery and Tactical Officers, Damage Control Officer, Engineering Liaison, Sensors Chief, Fighter Controller and the Naviagtor (when not in the Charthouse). The outer stations seated subordinate positions, such the communications Yeoman, sensor and weapon operators amongst others. Finally the Conning Pit, one of two locations where the OOW could lead their bridge crew of helmsmen (the other being the separate navigational Bridge on the upper pressure hull), was situated by the forward bulkhead.
As she passed approached the outer stations, Lt Ouellet, who was peering over the shoulder of a sensor operator, took note of her presence. "Captain on Deck!" She informed the room, the crew swiftly standing or sitting to attention. Any Captain who said that they didn't get at least a little satisfaction from the conditioned response, was lying. Or at least, that's what Beth thought. She didn't think of herself as arrogant or stuck up, but she couldn't deny the warm fuzzy feeling when her hard-earned position was respected.
"As you were" She dismissed, the CIC relaxing back into their routine.
She lowered herself into the deceptively comfortable Captain's Chair and unfolded her personal display. After quickly checking through multiple status reports, including a disciplinary for a young serviceman caught stealing from his bunkmate, she called out to Ouellet:
"Officer of the Watch, confirm that we're all set?"
"Aye Ma'am. All good to. The Bannockburn and the Tours are holding at 3,000km astern of us, Relay Lovell-Beta is free of debris and the system remains clear as expected." The OOW replied. The cheer she'd lost after her previous admonishment, now back in full swing.
Of course, the fact that the system was clear was hardly a surprise. The Bristol's small exploration Taskgroup of the 63rd Scout Flotilla; herself and the two Thermopylae-class frigates, were only the second group of ships to ever enter the Lovell System. And as per the Alliance's Exploration and Expansion Act, that meant the system was still out-of-bounds to civilian traffic.
The system itself was disappointingly of little interest to the Colonial Expansion Authority, only consisting of three gas giants and a small airless rock planet orbiting an ageing red giant. There may have been profitable resource deposits but the Alliance Geological Service had yet to conduct their proper survey. What were of significance were the three secondary Mass Relays on the outskirts of the system, only two of which had been properly charted. Lovell-Alpha was the Relay they'd come through that linked to the Shanxi-Beta Relay in the neighbouring cluster. Lovell-Gamma was on the far side of the system and was only known about due to data provided by the Lovell-Alpha Relay. Regardless, it was the system's second relay, Lovell-Beta, that was the unwitting objective of this expedition.
Beth took a moment to gaze through the external cameras at the impossible machine. She'd passed through Relays on countless occasions and their majesty really shouldn't affect her anymore. But alas, there was never any chance of her not be awed by sight of the galaxy's (presumedly) largest and most powerful mass effect engines. Regardless, they were likely going to be the first sentients to transit this wonder of alien engineering in what? 50,000 years? A hard to quantify experience in Beth's mind.
Having finished contemplating the wonders of the Protheans, she elected to get this show on the road. "Alright then. Yeoman, Captain. Make to the Taskgroup: All ships be advised, Bristol about commence Relay activation, continue to hold station and monitor."
"Da, Captain." Replied the Russian Yeoman, Petty Officer Fedorov.
Beth turned to her Tactical Officer; a gangly Martian-born man named Lieutenant Commander Oskar Vance. "Tactical, commence activation procedure. And could you please give me time estimate for completion?"
Vance replied in his usual monotone, "Aye Captain. Commencing activation. Estimated time to completion: 9 hours 12 minutes."
The frustration amongst the CIC crew was almost palpable. Without looking away from the holotank, she whispered to her XO, who had just walked up beside her chair, "You'd think they'd never been involved in space travel before. What? Did they expect a multi-millennia dormant megastructure to just ping on like a light switch? Everything in space takes ages."
"Sure…Well, apart from FTL…And Relay transit…and things going to shi…" Luca whispered back and she glanced over to see a barely noticeable smirk.
"Bloody hell X, cut it out will you! Are you trying to tempt fate? You're going to give me an aneurysm…" Beth hissed looking back down at her display.
"Why so superstitious?"
He was merely met by a cold glare.
"Sorry Ma'am." He replied, barely keeping a chuckle at bay.
[+]
0540 [Arcturus Time]
HS INSCRUTABLE, Indomitable-class dreadnaught
23rd Patrol Fleet, Turian Navy
Relay 313, Ophellus (Lovell) System
Rear Admiral Taetus Arterius was bored. So very bored. If he'd known that his…transgression, with the Primarch's daughter would have him spending the next 5 years patrolling these useless backwaters, then by the Spirits he'd…ah, who was he kidding? He definitely would have still fallen for her seductions. Lectra Fedorian was most beautiful female he'd ever met. Perfectly symmetrical fringe, bright eyes and a waist to die for. Damn her for being so damn perfect. Damn him for not being further up the Meritocracy! If he had been then maybe the Primarch wouldn't have had such a apoplectic reaction to their relationship. But alas no.
Taetus was interrupted from his spiralling self-deprecation by his Helm Officer reporting that they'd cleared Relay 313 and were now safely in the ever-pointless Ophellus System. There were no colonies in Ophellus. Spirits! There weren't even any mining outposts. What a complete waste of time. In fact, the only reasons they even patrolled this sector was due to its close proximity to the Krogan DMZ and the presence of multiple inactive Mass Relays. Ophellus alone had two secondary relays besides the relay they came in on, both of them inactive. The worry of the higher ups was that pirates or rebellious Krogan clans would try to establish bases beyond unmapped relays without the Council being aware. A sound preventative strategy perhaps, but during the five long years Taetus had commanded the small, but potent, 23rd Patrol Fleet, he'd engaged a grand total of ZERO pirates. Not exactly the illustrious military career he'd dreamed of in his youth.
The only positive was, that despite the pointlessness of this mission, he still had command of a full patrol fleet. Honestly? When he first got this assignment, he'd been expecting a frigate squadron at most. But no, the Turian Hierarchy always managed to pull ships out the cloaca. As such, instead of merely commanding the half dozen frigates he'd have actually needed, he had the begrudged honour to command 18 frigates, 3 light cruisers and 6 heavy cruisers. But they all paled before his pride and joy, his flagship, the 1.5km long Inscrutable. An Indomitable-class dreadnaught that Taetus couldn't for the life of him work out why it was being wasted on these backwaters. Surely there were better uses for such capable vessel? Maybe Lectra had put in a good word with her father after all.
"Admiral, Sir?" Called the Primary Sensor Officer. There was a note of surprise and trepidation in his two-toned voice.
"What is it Ustris?" Taetus asked, failing to hide his boredom.
"Sir, the observation satellites in system are picking up three unknown ships in the vicinity of Relay 314."
Taetus was suddenly hyper alert. Where could they have come from? Ophellus is effectively a dead end as far as active relays go. Surely the observation satellites in the preceding systems would have noted them? They must have come in on their own FTL drives. Whoever they are, they must be determined. But such mental questions were short lived. As much as Taetus liked to boast of his analytical mind, his lust for battle, especially after 5 years of inaction, proved to be far stronger. Maybe the Spirits were on his side after all. Some action at last! Taetus could feel his heartbeat begin to race with anticipation. He'd finally get to use his fleet for something.
Doing his best to control his growing excitement, he calmly queried his sensor officer, "Any indication that they may be trying to activate the Relay?" He really wished they were. He wanted the excuse. Citadel laws on the subject were VERY clear. No dormant Relays were to be activated without the other side having been found and surveyed. No one wanted a repeat of the Rachni Wars after all. As a result, the law permitted any and all means, including military action, to prevent reactivation of a dormant Relay. Spirits let them be that stupid!
Ustris voice now matched the growing excitement mirrored in the rest of bridge crew, "dark energy readings steadily increasing from 314. The cloacae ARE spinning her up".
"Idiots! Don't they know what they're doing?" Taetus' XO tone made it clear that she didn't seem to share in his desire to see action. Not that he was surprised. Captain Nextra Lorakian seemed averse to life in the Navy, always one to favour diplomacy over combat from what he read in her service record. Taetus had no idea why she even stayed in the service once her mandatory time was up. It was his opinion that she should have packed up and transferred to the Diplomatic Corps years ago. Spend her days drinking tea with some Asari Matriarch. But then again, maybe he wasn't the only one here as punishment…
"Don't worry Nextra. We won't give them the chance to continue their lunacy."
Nextra's fringe creased, "What? We're just going to just shoot them out of hand? Without warning? They may be stupid but we should still give them a chance to stop and surrender."
Taetus was annoyed to be getting another one of his headaches, headaches that only seemed to manifest when his XO started talking. But as much as he would be loath to admit it, she was right. His Rules of Engagement did require him to demand surrender before opening fire. "Ughhh! Fine!" He'll toe the line, but how dare she undermine him in front of the crew. He was determined to have a frank conversation with her after all was said and done. Maybe get her transferred if at all possible. "Once we're in range we'll give them ONE chance to surrender. If they fail to see reason, then they'll see why the Turian Navy is the most feared military force in the galaxy!"
[+]
1155 [Arcturus Time]
SSV BRISTOL
Lovell-Beta Relay, Lovell System.
Okay, so maybe Beth was starting to understand her crew's frustrations. This wait really was starting drag on her sanity. And in opposition to her earlier musings, awe wasn't nearly enough to fend off the boredom. She'd already managed to get through all her outstanding reports, spent an hour in the gym and had two ship walkabouts to further get to know her new crew. She'd now been without stimulation for nearly two hours and was seriously considering giving Luca the conn so she could go take a nap. But the universe clearly had different ideas.
A short sharp whistle sounded in her earpiece over the main command line. The clear and slightly accented voice of the Sensors Controller, Senior Chief Petty Officer Deng, followed not a second later:
"Conn, Sensors! New contact, unknown classification, bearing 2-9-5 by 0-1-2, range 11 light minutes. On intercept course, intercept time 5-0 minutes. Designated Sierra 1. EM and heat emissions suggest anti-matter propulsion. Probability of artificial origin: High."
A ship? All the way out here? But we'd have been advised if any other vessels had been in system. Who coul…Unless…no, it can't be. But what other options were there? She glanced at the system chart. The ship, if that was indeed what it was, was coming from the direction of the, as of yet, uncharted Lovell-Delta Relay. Beth desperately wracked her brain for an alternative explanation, reluctant to accept the facts in front of her. But ultimately, she couldn't continue to deny the most likely conclusion: Aliens!
It was then that she became painfully aware that the CIC had fallen deathly silent. She looked up to see a dozen pair of eyes watching her expectantly. Many had likely come to the same conclusion she had but the rest merely waited for direction. The Bristol's Captain shared a short, knowing look with her XO, his understanding clear on his face. He gave her a slight nod, his smirk nowhere to be seen. She turned back to the room and locked eyes with Lt Ouellet.
"Officer of the Watch, take the ship to Action Stations. Then move us away from the Relay. I want room to manoeuvre if this goes south."
Ouellet didn't dare ask what the Captain meant by that last bit, simply replying, "A..aye Ma'am." She immediately moved back to the conning pit and hit the General Alarm. After allowing the loud, low tone to blare a few times throughout the ship, she deactivated it and keyed the Main Broadcast. "All Hands! Action Stations! Action Stations! Assume Damage Control State 1 and standby to seal all air-tight bulkheads. Fighters to immediate readiness!" She repeated the pipe, kicking the whole ship into a well drilled co-ordinated beehive of activity. Releasing the comm, Ouellet took up her station behind the helmsmen and began issuing manoeuvre commands. The Bristol resultingly initiated a short burn away from the Relay whilst re-orienting towards the incoming contact.
Happy that they were putting some distance between themselves and the Relay, Beth began rattling out commands to her primary command team, many of whom were rushing back to their stations. "Sensors! Get me as much information as you can on this thing. Any changes of course and/or speed are to be reported immediately. Guns! Firing solutions asap! Lock them into the system but keep the silos closed and the main battery in standby mode. I don't want to spook whoever they are more than necessary. Navs! Plot the fastest route back Lovell-Alpha. If they're hostile we may need to beat a hasty retreat. Tactical…prepare the First Contact package." She was met by a chorus of acknowledgments and more than a few stares in response to that last order. She could hardly blame them for their disbelief. She struggled to believe it herself, but so far, the facts did point that way.
With commands issued, the crew busy and the ship coming to Action Stations, Luca chose that moment to quietly chime in, "you really sure it's ET Captain?"
"Sure? No. However, given the circumstances, can you come up with any other theories?" She replied.
"I really wish I could...I mean, the listening station in Shanxi would have identified anybody transiting the relay before us, right? The fact that its signature isn't in the database and it's coming from the direction we know the Gamma relay lies in…there really is only one option here, right?" Beth had honestly never heard her XO sound so unsure. He was normally confidence incarnate after all.
Before she could respond, Chief Deng's voice returned over the main command line. "Conn, Sensors! Contact has been reassessed. Now registering 22…no, 28 distinct contacts, designated Sierra 2 through 28. Long range lidar indicates 18 frigate-sized vessels, 9 heavy cruiser-sized and one…one…"
"One what?" Snapped Lt Cdr Vance.
"Super dreadnaught Sir…"
"Super dreadnaught?" asked the gangly tactical officer. "What are you saying exactly? Larger than a dreadnaught? How much larger?"
"Lidar is giving an approximate length of 1.5km." Deng sounded like he couldn't quite believe what he was reading. And to be fair, Beth couldn't fault him for that. 1.5km!? The largest ships in the whole Alliance Navy only came in at 965m and 990m; the fleet carrier Alexander the Great and dreadnaught, Olympus Mons respectively. If this ship turned out to be vessel of war, then it wouldn't mean jack shit if it was accompanied by 1 or 100 other ships. The main battery of a dreadnaught that size would gut them in a single shot. And that's with the likely technology gap notwithstanding.
"Tactical. Co-ordinate with the Bannockburn and Tours. Have them form up on us and make sure we're all on the same page. Weapons are tight and I want their confirmation they understand that. Specifically, Makute, hmm? I will not have his gung-ho attitude being responsible for starting an interstellar war!" In a delicate situation such as this, one wrong move or misinterpreted signal could lead to disaster. The captain of the Bannockburn in particular, Lieutenant Commander George Makute, was an infamous maverick who known to push his luck (not to mention his ship) on many an occasion. Really not the breed of officer Beth would have wanted for a delicate first contact scenario. If things went hot? Well, he'd be invaluable in that case. But if that scenario played out then she'd have fucked up one of the most important moments in human history. Fortunately, his opposite number on the Tours, Raquel Martinez, was a very by-the-book fleet officer. A good counter-balance for sure. One who Beth was certainly thankful to have along for the ride. Regardless, now was no time to take chances and she planned to keep both her frigate captains on a short leash.
By now, the CIC and the ship in general, had mostly settled into their action stations. A fact collaborated by Luca walking back into the room carrying his datapad. When had he even left? No matter, I guess.
"Captain, Ma'am. The Ship is now at Action Stations. DC State 1 is achieved and peace-time safeties have been disabled. Chief Engineer Voigt reports that the core is running at 96% efficiency, but reminds you that thruster output is down 25% due the starboard outer nacelle being defective. All other ship systems are green. Flight Deck reports that Daggers 1 to 4 are fuelled, armed and ready for launch. However, a software issue is preventing them from booting up their wingman drones. They're working on it now but haven't been able to give me a time estimate."
Beth sighed for what must have been the hundredth time today. The universe really doesn't want to make things easy, does it? "Cheers, X. Let me know as soon as the Flight Deck has an update."
"Will Do Ma'am," and with that the XO turned on his heel and left the CIC.
The Captain took a long pause to gather her thoughts before addressing her tactical officer. "Vance, is the First Contact Package ready?"
"Aye, Ma'am, I've just briefed the Yeoman with the signals package. It's ready to be transmitted wideband on every known frequency. Physical package is loaded in Silo Bravo 4 and will be launched at quarter speed two minutes after first transmission." Replied Vance.
"Very good Vance." Beth decided it would be wise to inform the crew as to the situation before she made this monumental step in the history of human space travel and civilization. She keyed her own Main Broadcast button, and addressed the entire ship: "Do you hear there, this the Captain. At 1155 Arcturus Time, an unknown contact was detected approaching the taskgroup from the far side of this system. As you are all aware, we are the only human vessels scheduled to be in Lovell. I say 'human' because we believe there is a high probability that the now 28 approaching ships, are NOT of human construction. This is in all likelihood a First Contact scenario and I don't believe I need press on any of you the momentous auspices of this occasion. In the next few hours, we could very well be the first people in history to have ever make contact with an alien race. I have brought the Ship to Action Stations as a precaution, but we will endeavour to make this never-to-be-repeated event, a peaceful and successful one. Let's make Humanity proud people. Carry On."
Again addressing only those in the CIC, "All right team, this is it. I'm hoping for the best but stay sharp and be ready for anything." She turned to the Yeoman, "Yeoman, Captain." She paused for dramatic effect then said the words that would change history, "Transmit First Contact Package!"