Beneath the barren, icy surface of Pluto, in a luxury apartment nested within the Alliance's deep-space listening post, Dr. Gavin Archer leaned back in his recliner, sipping his morning coffee, savoring the peace and quiet.
Oh, how he loved his job.
Yes, for three months every year, he only had to maintain and update the VI systems of this facility, and the Alliance would pay him millions of credits.
He smiled as he took a sip of his coffee. Here, he did not have to socialize, nor deal with lesser minds. He could focus entirely on his work, with no distractions, nor any troublesome colleagues or bureaucrats, constantly looking over his shoulder, only getting in his way.
He let out a contented sigh. Indeed, the Alliance valued results, not process, and he always delivered. The deep space listening systems he had designed were cutting edge, able to detect the faintest signals from distant systems. And the VI training protocols he had developed allowed them to continuously improve, analyzing petabytes of data every day.
He nodded to himself. Two months from now, he would have to return and teach his classes back on Earth. But for now, he would relish the silence, whatever time he had within his domain.
"Dr. Gavin," called a feminine, robotic voice from the PA system.
He let out a frustrated sigh, then set down his coffee mug. He gritted his teeth, then snorted. "Yes, EDI?"
"I apologize for disturbing you," EDI said, "but I have just detected several anomalous signals coming from the Oort Cloud - ones that require your immediate attention."
"My immediate attention?" This was highly irregular. There was hardly anything interesting to detect within the Oort Cloud. So most likely, it was another false positive. Nonetheless, he had to double-check. He always double-checked everything he did. "Very well, I'm heading to my office."
He sighed, then got up from his recliner. He made his way to his office, his coffee mug in hand. As he entered his office, the holo-screens on the walls flickered to life, displaying streams of data and analytics.
"The anomalous signals originated from sector 14-Z of the Oort Cloud, approximately 2 hours ago," EDI said. The AI brought up a hologram of the Oort on his terminal and zoomed in on the relevant sector. "They are gravitational in nature, and I have been unable to identify their source."
He frowned as he studied the tables and graphs on his terminal. Gravitational anomalies in the Oort Cloud were exceedingly rare. The last time anything similar had been detected was over a century ago when a rogue black hole passed through the outskirts of the Sol System. But these signatures were completely different.
"Run a full spectral analysis," he ordered. "Bring up a live feed of the incoming data, and cross-reference it with all known phenomena and objects in our databases."
"Compiling results now," EDI replied.
As EDI compiled the results, he took another sip of his coffee. What could this be? A cold feeling settled in his gut. And in the back of his mind, he already knew the answer to his question.
No...Even now, 150 years after the discovery of the Mars Archives, humanity had found no trace of the Protheans, nor any other alien civilization. But...
Could it be?
Was his life's work about to be validated?
Finally, his terminal flickered as the results and the live data came in. He nearly choked on his coffee.
According to one graph, there were minute traces of element zero - a substance rarely found in nature. And the gravitational waves...
They carried rhythmic modulations reminiscent of ship translations.
Just then, the live data spiked.
"Incoming translations!" EDI said. On his terminal, marker after marker appeared on the hologram of the Oort Cloud before him.
"Get me a visual!" he ordered.
A panel opened up on his terminal, and his heart thrashed as the image loaded. Finally, it resolved into view, and he could hardly breathe. His coffee mug slipped from his hands and it shattered on the ground.
It was a fleet of sleek, alien ships emerging from FTL travel. Their curved, purplish-blue hulls, adorned with cyan lumen strips, were unlike anything he had ever seen.
"EDI..." he said, his mouth dry. "Are you recording all of this?"
"Yes, doctor," EDI said. "I am capturing all sensor data and archiving it into our most secure databases."
He could hardly move, as more of the alien vessels dropped out of FTL, their numbers already in the dozens. Among them, two vessels stood out. One was a behemoth of a vessel about seven kilometers long, likely the flagship, and the other...
It was of a completely different design than all the rest, with a silvery, dagger-shaped hull and golden lumen strips. Around six kilometers long, it looked far more elegant and maneuverable.
Briefly, he looked away and pinched himself, only to feel a spike of pain. Ok, he was not dreaming.
This was real.
Humanity was not alone.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, and the enormity of the moment struck him like an asteroid. This was the culmination of his life's work, and no matter how history unfolded from here on, he had no doubt that human civilization would never be the same.
"Incoming transmission," EDI said.
"From where?" he asked.
The image zoomed in on the silvery vessel.
"From this one," EDI said. "Shall I patch it through?"
He paused. For a while, time seemed to slow to a crawl and his hands trembled. Could he do this? Could he carry the responsibility that came with being the first human to ever speak to another intelligent race?
He was about to say no, but then he remembered his oh-so-perfect brother David - the all-intelligent, ever-so-amazing mathematical savant of the Alliance - who won the Field's medal for proving the Yurgen-Bankhari Conjecture.
And he clenched his fists.
Yes, now was his turn to shine!
"Do it," he said, with grim determination. "But first, send everything we discovered to Alliance High Command. The Chancellor needs to hear about this immediately."
"Affirmative," EDI said, "sending everything we discovered. ETA: 4.2 hours."
He let out a frustrated sigh. Damned speed of light. If that was the best they could do, then no matter. He cleared his throat.
It was time to talk to the Sol System's new guests.
Late at night, amidst the hustle and bustle of New Washington's city center, Chancellor Liam Nganu sat in his spacious office, reading defense and economic reports on the holo-terminal on his desk.
He yawned. As usual, cells of the Prophet's Hand were wreaking havoc, sparking riots on Io Station, and leading a revolt on Ganymede. According to reports from Admiral Alexander McKay, much of the 5th Fleet was also stretched thin, guarding shipping lanes near Jupiter, Mars, and Luna. And just to add to his problems, the system-wide unemployment rate was up five percent from the last cycle.
He sighed, then rubbed his temples. Sooner or later, I need a vacation. Yes, if only the snakes in Congress and the Senate knew the stress that came after winning the election. It would send them screaming straight to the damned nut house.
He leaned back into his chair, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, a vacation sounded wonderful. One day, he'd love to visit one of the luxury hab stations nestled around the Lagrange Points of Earth's orbit, just like he did during his honeymoon with his wife, Andrea.
Briefly, he looked at the holo-picture of her on his desk, and he smiled, an icy sensation flashing in his chest. Her smile never failed to fill him with bliss and joy, and yet her absence...it was like a specter that always loomed over his shoulder, gnawing at him, eating him from the inside out.
He sighed. Hope I'm making you proud...
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching outside his office, and then his aide, 2nd Secretary Thomas Franks, barged inside, panting.
"Sir!" he said, his voice trembling. "Sir!"
"Woah there," he said. He shut off his terminal, "Settle down, son. Take a few deep breaths, then tell me what's the matter."
Thomas took a few deep breaths, then looked him in the eye. "Sir, we've just received an urgent transmission from the deep-space listening post on Pluto..." Briefly, Thomas looked away. He gulped, then pursed his lips before meeting his gaze once again. "It's about to happen, sir. First Contact."
He froze. He blinked a few times and shook his head. First Contact? Was he dreaming? "First Contact?"
Thomas nodded, then brought out a data slate from his coat pocket and began inputting a few commands. "Just hours ago, Dr. Gavin Archer, detected this fleet of alien ships translated into the Sol System from the Oort Cloud..."
Thomas showed him the data slate. And his eyes went wide. Dozens of alien ships with curved, purplish-blue hulls were gliding through the inky blackness of space, heading straight for Earth.
"The entire system is in panic. And that's not all," Thomas said. Once more, he input a few commands into the data slate, then showed him an image of another ship, but with a different design than all the rest. Unlike the others, its hull was dagger-shaped, sleek, and silvery with countless gold lumen strips. "This ship is broadcasting a message across the system addressed directly to you."
Thomas played an audio file on his data slate, and then a human voice filled the room.
"Attention, people of the Sol System. This is Hannah Shepard, Governor of Set'ia Prime. With me are our new friends, and we come in peace, to warn you of an urgent threat to our entire species. With us are thousands of refugees we saved from the colony of Mindoir, in need of urgent assistance. So if you're hearing this, Chancellor Nganu, then we need to meet right now. The fate of humanity depends on it."
When the message ended, a long, tense silence filled the room, and a chill snaked down his spine. Refugees? The fate of humanity? And an urgent, likely-existential threat to their entire species?
He leaned back into his chair, unable to tear his eyes away from the image on the data slate. Hannah Shepard. The name rang familiar in his mind, though he couldn't quite place it.
Governor of Set'ia Prime? Where was that? The Alliance had a total of twenty-one colonies, all within twenty-five light years of Earth. Among them, Mindoir had reported back a few years ago. But Set'ia Prime?
He had never heard of such a colony.
If it existed, then it must be one of the newer ones.
"Before you ask," Thomas continued, "Dr. Gavin Archer already spoke to her. He said he couldn't detect anything to suggest that the message was artificially generated. We also dug into her name and it checks out."
Again, Thomas inputted a few commands into his data slate and then showed him some documents. "She is Admiral McKay's daughter. Around seven years ago, she was the Captain of the SSV Centurion, a real overachiever, who could have become an Admiral herself..."
"Until?"
"Until the Io Station massacre..." Thomas said.
He exhaled. Even now, that terrible day still haunted him. If only his damned Generals and Admirals hadn't been so impatient and used that bad intelligence. It would have spared him the worst PR disaster in Alliance history, since the biotic rights crisis of the 2180s.
According to her scrolled to a new set of images. "Apparently, she and her father had...disagreements during the fallout of that incident, especially over her new husband at the time, Mark Shepard, a decorated N7 operative."
"And then?"
"Afterwards, she and her husband vanished from public life and joined some idealistic colonization mission beyond the frontier. Since then, nobody has seen nor heard anything about whether that mission was successful...until now."
"Send a reply, immediately," he said, standing up. "Tell Hannah I'll meet her aboard Arcturus Station. Inform the Joint Chiefs and the Admirals as well. I'll want them there with me. And oh, two more things..."
"Yes, sir?"
"First, let the public know only what they have to, enough to calm the panic. And second...
A part of him was screaming that something was wrong about this situation, that a sinister undercurrent lurked beneath its surface. So if this turned out to be a ruse, then humanity would not go out quietly.
"Tell the Admirals to have the defense fleet on standby," he continued, "ready to turn Arcturus Station to molten slag if this all goes south. Just to be sure, also give General Gharnovovich full authorization to use the surface to orbit batteries as he sees fit."
Thomas nodded. "Right away, sir."
As his aide rushed out of the room, he stepped by the main window of his office and looked out at the cityscape ahead, abound with countless skyscrapers illuminating the night with neon light. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined himself in such a situation.
Nonetheless, here it was, staring him right in the face.
Had Admiral McKay's estranged daughter finally returned, bringing along thousands of refugees from Mindoir? Were these aliens she brought truly humanity's friends? Allies against whatever threat had attacked Mindoir? Or was this all a lie? A trick to leave humanity utterly exposed?
Whatever the case, one thing was certain: history was about to change forever. And only time would tell whether it was the beginning of a new era...
Or the end of everything.
On the bridge of the Athame's Lament, Hannah Shepard looked out the forward viewscreen, at the cradle of humanity itself, Earth. Just months ago, she had believed she would never see it again, that the days after the Io Station would fade to oblivion in her mind, like half-remembered nightmares.
And yet here she was.
On the bridge of an alien ship.
About to change human history forever.
"Master Gaiphoro," an Asari officer called on the bridge, "we are being hailed. The signal's origin is coming from a space station around Terra's Orbit designated as..." The officer squinted his eyes as he read it. "Arkturos."
Gaiphoro nodded. "Patch it through."
When the signal came through, a heavy silence filled the bridge and she held her breath. Finally, a voice filled the chamber, and she froze, hardly able to move.
"Hannah?" her father asked. "Is that...Is that you?"
Briefly, her mind went back to the fateful night before the Io station massacre.
"You have to call it off," she says. "We have no idea if they're really Prophet's Hand!"
"How many times do I have to tell you this," her father says. "My hands are tied. The top brass have already made their decision. It's too late. So don't go out there and do something reckless. The last thing I want is to see you court-martialled for insubordination."
She clenches her fists. "Whatever happened to: 'never compromise who you are'? Hhhm?"
She scowls. Her eyes well with tears. "Who are you?" she scoffs.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Their relationship had shattered that day, and she only wanted to forget he ever existed and never see him again. But now, she had to put that aside. The situation now was so much bigger than any of her past problems.
"It's me, Dad," she said, her voice catching with emotion. "In the flesh."
"Prove it," her father said.
She paused. For a moment, her mind drew a blank. But then the perfect moment from her childhood sprung up in her mind. She took a deep breath. "When I was ten, remember when I ran off into the woods behind our old house, trying to chase after a deer I had spotted in the bedroom window?"
She paused, then exhaled as the memories came flooding back. "I got lost in those woods for hours. I was so scared, and even when night fell, you never stopped searching for me."
She smiled softly. "I remember crying in the dark, curled up by a big oak tree. But then I heard your voice. I ran toward you as fast as I could. And when you saw me, you swept me up into your arms and held me so tight."
"And what did I say?" her father asked.
Her eyes watered. A gnawing, icy pain gripped her chest. She slid one hand down her face, then gulped and pursed her lips. "You said...no matter how far you wander, no matter what comes between us, I will always find you. You will always be my little girl."
A seemingly endless, almost unbearable silence followed.
"We..." her father began, "we have a lot of catching up to do, once this mess is all over. But for now, we need to focus. Head to Arcturus Station. We're all waiting for you."
She nodded, steeling herself for the meeting to come. Yes, there would be time for that later. The Silent Ones were going to arrive any hour now, and they had to be ready. "We're on our way. See you soon, Dad."
"See you soon," her father said.
He cut the link, and in the silence that followed, Nu'adu put one hand on her shoulder.
"It seems the darkness you have been running from has finally caught up to you," Nu'adu said. An electric sensation ran through her, and she couldn't help but feel as though he was probing into her very core. And yet...she couldn't feel any safer. "There is great pain within you, a great desire to fix what you believe is broken beyond repair, but also..." Nu'adu tilted his head. "An unwillingness to forgive?"
She nodded slowly, her eyes downcast. "My father and I...we've always had a complicated relationship. He used to be my hero." She clenched her jaw, then exhaled. "But then my mother died, and before I knew it, the Alliance was his only priority."
A few tears ran down her cheeks. In hindsight, she had only become an Alliance Captain to earn his love and approval. But even that had not been enough. "I don't know if I can forgive him, Nu'adu. After everything he's done, I just..."
She wiped away her tears, then took a deep breath. "I can't think about this right now. We have a mission to focus on."
"Hannah..." Nu'adu said, putting one hand on her shoulder. His gentle touch sent an electric sensation through her limbs, making them feel lighter. "I see the root of all of your pain, and it is only natural that you would feel this way. Indeed, we have a mission to focus on, but before we go, know that I understand that it is not easy for you to let go of whatever has defined your identity for so long."
Those last few words hit her like a grav train, and her mind rebelled as it took root in her mind. Defined my identity for so long? What did he mean? She sighed. She couldn't think about this right now. "Thanks, Nu'adu. Come on...Let's find Rael, then head toward the embarkation deck."
Nu'adu smiled. "Lead the way."
Sitting in the luxurious confines of his personal shuttle, Chancellor Liam Nganu looked out the wide viewport, at the breathtaking view of Arcturus Station. Nestled within one of Earth's Lagrange points, the colossal space station glimmered with reflected sunlight and neon lights. No doubt, it was the grandest station in the Sol System, a marvel of engineering with towering spires and bustling docks.
But compared to the ships of their alien visitors, he had to admit…
It was nothing.
A cold, dreadful sensation crept through his insides, and his heart raced. Just how far ahead were these aliens compared to humanity? Was there even any point in resisting them at all, should things go south?
Closing his eyes, he drew in a big lungful of air, then exhaled, slowly. You can not afford to be scared right now. The Alliance — humanity itself — needs you to keep it together.
With a slow blink, he opened his eyes, then took in the sight of his bodyguards. Four imposing figures — clad in black battle suits with mirror-like face plates — sat across from him, their postures alert, their weapons at the ready.
These were no ordinary soldiers.
They were former N7s, handpicked for their exceptional skills and years of combat experience. No doubt, their sleek, advanced gear was cutting-edge, and they were some of the finest soldiers the Alliance had to offer.
But if things went south, could he rely on them to handle the situation with precision and efficiency? Beneath their hard, emotionless exteriors, were they really so calm?
He leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, trying to steady his nerves. And yet before he knew it, his shuttle's PA system beeped.
"Docking at Arcturus Station," the shuttle pilot said, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
Let's get this over with. He stood up.
"Follow me, sir," one of his bodyguards said, approaching him. The soldier's voice was deep and robotic, utterly devoid of emotion. "The Joint Chiefs, the Admirals, and…our guests are waiting for you."
Whatever your training was like, I do not want to know. "Lead the way," he said.
He followed his lead bodyguard outside his shuttle, into one of Arcturus Station's private embarkation bays, with his other three bodyguards watching his flanks.
As he strode through the station's pristine corridors, he tried to keep his face neutral. Yet nonetheless, his heart hammered. The closer he drew to the conference room, the more the gravity of the situation pressed down on him.
And even now, a part of him could hardly believe that this was happening.
Once more, he breathed in, then out. In, then out. You got this. Yes, he would make Andrea proud.
Finally, they stepped into a large conference room, with a long, oval table at the center. A dozen Alliance officials, along with the Joint Chiefs and Admirals, already filled the seats on one side, with only his empty chair remaining.
And on the other side, sat Hannah Shepard in the flesh, wearing a strange suit of golden combat armor…
Along with two humanoid beings, undoubtedly of two different species.
One was wearing some kind of high-tech environment suit, with a purple, mirror-like visor. Over its suit, the alien was wearing a matching hood and cloths, embroidered with intricate patterns. And unlike humans, it had three-fingered hands, with short, claw-like nails.
Meanwhile, the other alien looked hardly alien at all. He looked…human, though with blue, pearlescent skin and golden, almost-radiant eyes, filled with vast love and wisdom. He was wearing a combat suit similar to Hannah's, but one draped in shimmering, gold-white robes.
The second alien met his gaze, and slowly, his anxiety evaporated. Without saying a word, it was as though he was telling him that there was nothing to fear. Despite the gravity and uncertainty of the situation, there was just something about his presence that put him at ease.
Finally, he took his seat at the head of the table, then cleared his throat, mustering his composure.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, "thank you for joining me on this…historic day." He took a good look at Hannah Shepard. She had her father's red hair and green eyes. Outwardly, she seemed calm, ready to tackle this meeting head-on.
But if his thirty-one years in politics had taught him anything, it was how to read people. And in her eyes, he saw only fear, doubt, and unease.
What are you not telling me?
"Hannah Shepard…" he continued. "How about you begin by providing us with some context…" Once more, he looked at Hannah's two alien companions, and a part of him could still not believe that non-human, intelligent beings were sitting before him.
Hannah nodded, then stood up from her seat. For a moment, she looked toward the blue alien, who gave her a reassuring smile, and then she faced him directly.
"First," Hannah began, "I know this situation must come as quite a shock. Just weeks ago, it seemed like we were alone in the galaxy, surrounded by nothing but Prothean ruins. But rest assured…the guardians and their allies come with nothing but peaceful intentions."
Hannah looked at the alien wearing an E-suit, then nodded. The alien stood up, then clasped its hands behind its back.
"Greetings, esteemed officials of the Alliance," the alien began, and many nearly jumped out of their seats. No doubt, there was something so uncanny witnessing something inhuman speak. "I am Rael'Zorah vas Neema, emissairy of the Quarian Migrant Fleet. It is an honor to meet you all."
Rael conjured some holographic device on his wrist, then input a few commands. Soon, a hologram of the Milky Way galaxy appeared before them, and it zoomed in on a blue-brown world, orbiting a yellow star.
That technology…
He was far from an expert in any technical field, but the Alliance was perhaps centuries away from developing such dynamic holo-technology, nor warships nearly three times the size of the SSV Armaggedon.
We have to be careful. Yes, there was no telling what the quarians were capable of. So best he trod lightly.
"My kind come from far, far away," Rael continued, "from the opposite side of the galaxy." The hologram flickered, then displayed a scene of quarians thriving amidst some vast, underground mega city, abound with colossal, pillar-like buildings, with streams of grav cars and drones moving to and fro between them.
For a while, he just stared at the holograms, along with the Admirals and the other officials in the room.
From the opposite side of the galaxy? How did Rael even arrive here if the quarian homeworld was tens of thousands of lightyears away? Were their FTL drives just that advanced?
His intuition screamed that something was not adding up.
Why would aliens from so far away want anything to do with humanity?
"For thousands of years, we thrived." The hologram flickered several times, showing fleets of quarian starships in orbit over various worlds, of quarian colonists forging a domain across the stars. "We built a vast civilization, our own domain across the stars."
Thousands of years…
A shiver went up his back. History had proven time and time again that nothing good came from first contact with a technologically superior civilization.
So was humanity going to end up just like the indigenous people of the Americas or Africa?
The hologram flickered once more, showing a quarian diplomat shaking hands with a member of the blue, human-like species. "And we became an integral part of the galactic community, a founding race of the First Federation."
Rael let out a heavy sigh. "But our peace was not to last."
The holograms flickered again, showing holo-footage of various warzones, across several different systems. In some of them, there were hordes of insectoid abominations. In others, reptilian monsters in practical tank armor were spilling rivers of blood. And in a few…
His stomach churned. A cold, dreadful sensation spread through his insides. In a few, deformed, biomechanical monstrosities were scouring entire worlds of all life, leaving only barren wastelands in their wake.
As he watched the footage, a sick, uneasy sensation gripped his stomach, and his pulse climbed. It seemed the galaxy was not a safe place, and that humanity's place in it was far more precarious and delicate than he could he ever imagine.
"Over the course of three galactic wars," Rael continued, "we declined. Our Alliances crumbled as new civilizations arose from their ashes. Amidst the chaos, we grew arrogant and paranoid. And in our desperation, we made our greatest mistake…" Rael paused, as though gauging everyone's reactions. "We turned to abominable intelligence to solve all of our problems, and created the Geth."
Rael's words sent a chill through the room. Several Alliance officials shifted uneasily in their seats, as the holograms flickered, showing scenes of sleek, quarian-like robots performing various menial tasks, serving their creators as waiters, cleaners, miners, and more.
For a moment, he looked away. Already, he knew where this was going. Every day, the Alliance was creeping closer and closer to developing true AGI. So are we making the same mistake? Is this what they are trying to warn us about?
"For over two centuries, nothing seemed amiss. But then…without warning," Rael said, "they turned on us." The holograms transitioned to scenes of unimaginable horror, of stomach-churning atrocities that made the crimes of the World Wars seem tame by comparison.
In many, fleets of geth ships were pounding quarian colonies to radioactive dust with continent-shattering weaponry. In others, geth soldiers were corralling crowds of thier creators into transports like cattle en route to the slaughterhouse, or gunning down men, women, and children indiscriminately.
"Everything we built…" Rael said, his voice filled with a mix of passion and fury, "crumbled to nothing. Tens of billions of us perished. And in the end, we had no choice but to abandon our homeworld, Rannoch."
The holograms changed once more, showing a vast fleet of quarian ships, drifting through the void. "For four centuries, we wandered, searching for a new home, hunted and despised by the new powers of the galaxy…"
New powers of the galaxy? What exactly was Rael referring to? His intuition told him that Rael wasn't disclosing the full story. So what are you hiding?
"Until they found Set'ia Prime," Hannah said.
Rael nodded. Again, he input commands into his holographic wrist device, and then the galaxy map zoomed in on a desert world orbiting a yellow star.
"And just weeks ago," Rael said, inputting more commands. Several holo-screens popped up, showing footage of riots across what he presumed were quarian ships. Armed quarians in bulkier, mor armored suits began to quell the unrest however they could, "when we were on the brink of collapse, of fracturing into separate fleets, we finally found a world perfectly suited to our biology, far from the concerns of the rest of the galaxy."
He met Hannah's gaze. "But let me guess…the planet was already occupied?"
Hannah nodded, then input commands into a similar holographic device on her wrist. Wish I had one of those things. "They could have just taken it."
The galaxy map came to life, zooming in on Set'ia Prime. The small, underground colony was nestled beneath a vast, armor-glass dome, glowing softly in the distance.
Suddenly, a panel appeared and displayed holo-footage of three quarians emerging from purplish-blue craft, who then shook hands with Hannah and what he guessed was her husband.
"They could had taken all our resources or ignored us completely," she continued, "but instead they chose to help."
The hologram shifted, now showing footage of a colossal sandworm attacking an outpost. It sprayed acid, and in only seconds, it reduced three soldiers to pink, fleshy goo. "They even went as far as wiping out the sandworms that had been terrorizing us for years," she continued with a sense of awe. The hologram flickered again, revealing images of quarians working diligently to replace the colony's outdated systems with new and improved ones.
"And now…" she smiled, typing in another set of commands. The hologram shifted, showing holo-footage of humans and quarians living together, cooperating. "They fully intend to coexist with us — as equals, not clients."
A tense silence filled the room. The longer he listened to Hannah's story, the more it seemed…too convenient, too good to be true.
"Hannah Shepard…" Admiral Kuznetsov stood up, his gaze boring into Hannah, "with all due respect, I am finding this fairy tale very hard to believe. Do you truly expect us to think that a technologically superior species, one which — as you said — could conquer or destroy us with ease, would want to 'coexist' with us? To 'treat us equals' and be our 'best-buddies', just out of the goodness of their hearts?"
Senator Li Zhang nodded. "If history has proven anything, it is that nothing good ensues when technologically imbalanced civilizations collide."
"That is only if you ascribe human motives to aliens," Senator Amina Patel said.
"Oh, don't be so idealistic," Admiral Nguyen said, "all alien civilizations must obey the same three laws. You know that!"
With those words, a wave of murmuring, dissenting voices spread through the room like a fire gone out of control. The longer it went on, the angrier and more bitter the voices got.
And he could hardly hear himself think.
He had to do something now.
He pounded his fist on the table. The suddenness of the act cut through the rising babble like an axe. Every eye in the room snapped toward him.
"All of you!" he snapped. "Order! I will not allow this meeting to descend into pointless squabbling! The fate of humanity is at stake here, so for the love of God, act like it!"
Silence fell. During it, the blue alien glowed with a soft, biotic corona, and somehow…his body loosened up. His stress and worries did not seem as heavy and draining. And a light, airy sensation filled his chest. What…What kind of biotics is he using?
The other officials seemed affected as well. Slowly but surely, every bickering official settled back into their seats, with varying degrees of defiance and embarrassment.
Whatever he's doing I need to thank him.
"Senator Patel," he said, his voice low and strained, "there is wisdom in skepticism, but your point about differing cultural motivations is well-taken."
He took a deep breath. "Emissary Rael'Zorah. The skepticism here was not an insult, but a reflection of our past. This might be hard for you to understand, but for all of our achievements, we're still a young race taking our first steps amongst the stars."
He paused. He had to choose his next words carefully. "Our history, you see, is soaked in the blood of civilizations enduring exploitation, enslavement, and near-extermination at the hands of ones with superior technology. It is only natural that caution would be our first response."
He met Rael's gaze. "So if an Alliance is what you want, then MUST be completely transparent and tell us what you want."
He turned back to the other Alliance officials. "And for those of you ready to dismiss whatever we hear next, just remember…alien ships are in orbit over Earth. The evidence speaks for itself."
He looked into Hannah's eyes. "Now…Hannah. You mentioned that this fleet in orbit over Earth is carrying tens of thousands of refugees from Mindoir, and that we are facing an urgent threat. So please…elaborate."
Hannah opened her mouth, as though she was about to say something.
But then Admiral McKay stood up. "Hannah…Before you continue. Please be honest with me…" Admiral McKay exhaled. "Are they forcing you to do this? Talk to me…"
Momentarily, Hannah's posture tensed up. Again, she looked toward the blue alien, who nodded at her. And then she breathed out a heavy sigh.
"They are not forcing me to do anything." She turned her gaze toward the Alliance officials. "I understand that many of you are skeptical. I agree. It does feel like a fairy tail, an impossible story."
Hannah input a series of commands into her holographic wrist device. "But that's only because you're partly right. The quarians are not helping us purely out of the goodness of their hearts. No. They are also helping us because against what's coming for us, neither we nor they can afford to stand need each each other."
Yet again, the hologram changed, displaying footage of a warzone. In it, human and quarian soldiers were evacuating columns of refugees, fighting side by side against some of the same biomechanical monstrosities Rael had shown them earlier.
"The Silent Ones are coming…" she said.
A sick, nauseating sensation gripped his stomach. He gulped, and his mind begged for him to stop watching. But he watched on, nonetheless. The Silent Ones…What in god's name are they?
Briefly, he looked at the other Alliance officials, and even Admiral Kuznetsov's face seemed pale, his eyes wide with horror.
"After helping us," Hannah continued. The galaxy map zoomed out, showing a tear-drop-shaped vessel in Mindoir's orbit, "they detected one of their scout ships scanning Mindoir's orbit. They could had just abandoned us. They could have only looked out for themselves and let the Silent Ones wipe us out."
The hologram changed and showed towering quarian soldiers in high-tech battlesuits — likely their elites — fighting alongside their human and quarian comrades.
Hannah's shoulders slumped. Her eyes watered, and her breathing grew more labored. Closing her eyes, she exhaled. "But they didn't. Instead…" Her posture tensed, and she balled her fists. She looked him right in the eyes. "Instead, thousands of them have already given their lives evacuating the people of Mindoir." The hologram morphed and showed the aftermath of a vicious space battle, a vast debris field of shattered warships and frozen corpses. "And we only barely managed to escape."
His mind whirled with all that he was taking in. Thousands dead?
After so many years in politics, he had gotten very good at picking up the subtle cues in people's tone of voice. And in Hannah's, he found only raw sincerity and sheer desperation.
Yes, she believed in what she was saying. But the real question now was what were they going to do about this?
"And then you found yourself here?" He swallowed, the enormity of the situation crashing down. His eyes swept across the hologram of devastated warships and frozen corpses, and a familiar sense of helplessness held him in a vice. "Hoping we'd take in those refugees?"
"Yes…and because if humanity is going to survive not only this," Hannah said, her voice thick, close to breaking, "we need allies. We need friends that can help us catch up with the rest of galactic civilization. Because right now…" she choked, as though searching for the right words, "right now, we don't stand a chance. And if you knew the truth about the Mars Archives, about what the Citadel Triarchy is willing to do to pluck straight out of our hands, then well—"
An alarm blared from Hannah's holographic wrist device. As she checked it, her face went pale. "No…" She began typing in a series of commands, her shoulders tense. "No, no, no. Not now!"
Rael stood up, then immediately did the same.
His pulse spiked. Adrenaline surged through his veins and stood up as well. "What's going on here? Talk to me."
"The Silent Ones…" Rael said. "They've found us."