If you recognize it, I probably don't own it. Mass effect belongs to BioWare and Microsoft.
Here are some important stuff.
"Speech"
'Thoughts'
~"AI"~
*Sound Effects*
POV/Location/Time Change.
I EDITED THIS ON MY PHONE SO THE EDITING IS NOT THAT GOOD. IGNORE THE MYRIAD OF MISTAKES YOU FIND.
Sparks of War 2
2 August 2300
Belvares System, Terminus
The Belvares System, normally a quiet backwater in the lawless Terminus regions, was now alive with activity. Hundreds of ships, from sleek, heavily armed corvettes to gargantuan capital vessels, crowded the system's sparse space lanes. The pirate fleet stretched out in every direction like a sprawling, chaotic city of steel and plasma fire. Shields flickered as ships jostled for position, the sound of engines reverberating through the void. In the midst of it all stood the largest vessel, a massive dreadnought of Batarian design, its imposing silhouette casting a long shadow over the smaller ships around it.
This was The Broken Claw, flagship of Cegar Fraggar, the self-proclaimed pirate king of the Terminus. Its jagged, brutal form matched its master's reputation—relentless, merciless, a force to be feared. Fraggar, blood brother to the Batarian Hegemon himself, the Leader of all external Batarian operations, had built his empire on the bones of his enemies. Now, more than 2,000 pirate lords from all corners of the Terminus had come to pay tribute, to swear fealty to him on this, his crowning day.
Inside The Broken Claw, the atmosphere was tense, despite the celebration. The ship's great hall was filled with the galaxy's most notorious criminals, smugglers, and warlords, each one a leader in their own right. Banners from pirate clans fluttered in the air, hung haphazardly on the dark metal walls, and the smell of spiced alcohol and sweat filled the chamber. The hall was massive, lit by dim, flickering lights that cast long shadows across the faces of those in attendance. Batarian guards in full ceremonial armor stood at the edges of the room, their weapons ready, their eyes scanning for any sign of betrayal.
At the center of it all, seated on a throne of twisted metal and bones taken from his fallen enemies, was Cegar Fraggar himself. The pirate king. His four eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and malice as he surveyed the gathered lords, his hulking form draped in ceremonial armor adorned with scars of past victories. His right hand rested on the hilt of a massive curved blade, while his left tapped rhythmically on the armrest, a subtle display of impatience.
Beside him stood his most trusted lieutenant, a vicious Turian named Valas Serax, his presence adding to the weight of authority in the room. Valas had earned his place at Fraggar's side through years of brutal loyalty, carving out entire sectors for the pirate king's growing empire.
As the last of the pirate lords entered, the room quieted. All eyes turned to the throne, and a hush fell over the assembly as Cegar Fraggar stood. His towering form, towering even among Batarians, commanded immediate attention. He raised his arms, silencing any remaining murmurs with a single gesture.
"Brothers! Sisters!" His voice boomed through the chamber, echoing off the walls. "Today, we stand united as never before!"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, though many exchanged wary glances. Pirates were, by nature, distrustful, and this alliance was as fragile as the thinnest of threads. Yet, they had come, compelled by either fear or greed—or both.
"For too long," Fraggar continued, "we have been scattered, fighting amongst ourselves while the Citadel and their pathetic allies look down on us like scavengers. No longer! Today, we forge something greater. Today, we unite the Terminus under one banner—my banner!"
A cheer erupted from the crowd, though some hesitated. The pirate lords may have been here to show respect, but true loyalty was harder to earn. Fraggar's eyes narrowed slightly, reading the room like a predator sensing hesitation in its prey.
"We will no longer be hunted," he growled, his voice dropping lower, more menacing. "We will be the hunters. The Terminus will be ours, and we will take from the galaxy what we deserve!"
Valas Serax stepped forward, his sharp features illuminated by the dim lights as he scanned the crowd. "We stand on the brink of greatness," he declared. "But we will not reach it without strength. Without unity. Those who resist, those who cling to the old ways, will be swept aside."
As if to punctuate his point, a holographic projection blinked to life above them. It displayed the wreckage of several pirate fleets that had refused Fraggar's invitation. The debris fields stretched across systems, their once-proud ships now nothing but drifting corpses in the void.
"This," Valas said, gesturing to the image, "is the price of defiance."
A low murmur of approval spread through the hall, this time more sincere. The message was clear: join or die. And for those who valued their lives and their empires, the choice was obvious.
Cegar Fraggar raised his blade, pointing it toward the assembled lords. "Swear your loyalty to me, and I promise you riches beyond imagination. The Citadel will tremble. Their fleets will burn. Together, we will reshape this galaxy!"
The pirate lords knelt one by one, their voices joining in a chorus of loyalty. Fraggar's smile widened, his teeth glinting in the dim light. This was the moment he had waited for—his ascension as king of the Terminus.
Yet, even as the hall filled with cheers and declarations of allegiance, there were those among the pirate lords who remained wary. They were pirates, after all—loyalty was fickle, and betrayals were inevitable.
Outside at the edges of the system, a single ship dropped out of warp, without making a sound. Nearly 3 kilometers long, the massive human battleship was a dark leviathan, its sleek hull painted in matte black, making it nearly invisible against the backdrop of stars. The ship's array of more than 400 broadside laser cannons hummed quietly, while its countless missile pods sat primed and ready for launch. The true jewel of the ship, however, was its devastating spinal-mounted Magnetic Accelerator Cannon (MAC)—a weapon capable of vaporizing entire continents in a single, catastrophic shot. This was the SSV Crumbling Everest.
At the helm stood Captain Jessica Aurelia Drover, her short crimson locks pooling at her shoulders, her hands resting firmly on the control console as her emerald green eyes observed the holographic map of the system. The massive pirate fleet was gathered in the center, unaware of the incoming storm. Drover, a veteran of dozens of engagements, knew the Crumbling Everest was more than up to the task. The mission was clear: obliterate every last pirate scum in the system.
The captain's green eyes scanned the data streams coming in from the ship's sensors. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, and her expression was one of calm resolve. She knew what this ship could do, and the pirates had no idea what was coming.
"Status report," she ordered, her voice crisp and sharp.
"All systems green, Captain," came the reply from Lieutenant Harris, her tactical officer. "Weapon systems are fully operational. MAC is charged at 97%. Missile pods armed and ready. Laser arrays online and targeting data acquired for all pirate vessels in the system."
Drover nodded. "Good. Keep us on silent approach for now. Let's get into position."
The Crumbling Everest continued its approach, gliding through the dark void like a predator stalking its prey. The pirate fleet, still congregated around Cegar Fraggar's flagship, was celebrating their newly crowned king, oblivious to the death bearing down on them.
"Captain," Harris spoke up again, his voice low. "We've got a solid lock on the enemy flagship—The Broken Claw. It's at the center of the fleet formation. Recommend we start with a MAC strike."
Drover considered for a moment. A single shot from the ship's MAC would obliterate The Broken Claw and likely take out several of the ships nearby. It was tempting, but she wasn't here for half-measures. The mission was to wipe them all out not a decapitation strike. So why not have a bit of fun?
"Negative, Lieutenant. We'll save the MAC for later. Let's soften them up first. Prepare a full broadside strike. I want to clear the field before we go for the flagship."
"Aye, Captain," Harris replied, his fingers dancing over his console as he relayed the orders to the rest of the crew.
Drover turned her attention back to the holographic display. The enemy fleet was within range. There were more than 2,000 ships, but most of them were lightly armed, ancient, and mostly pieces of junk held together by spit and hope. Even the larger vessels would be no match for the sheer firepower of a basic human patrol craft let alone the beast that was the Crumbling Everest.
"Charge the laser arrays and prepare to fire," Drover commanded, her voice steady. "Target the outermost ships first. Let's herd them toward the center. I want them panicked and disorganized before we crush them."
The lights in the command center dimmed slightly as the power systems redirected energy to the weapons. Outside, along the length of the Crumbling Everest, the broadside laser arrays began to glow, each gun charging to its maximum capacity.
"Ready to fire on your mark, Captain," Harris confirmed.
Drover waited, her eyes locked on the pirate fleet. The timing had to be perfect. She wanted the maximum amount of chaos to ensue, to ensure that none of the pirates had the chance to organize any kind of defense.
"Fire."
A brilliant cascade of laser fire erupted from the sides of the Crumbling Everest, hundreds of beams of concentrated energy lancing out into the void, streaking toward the unsuspecting pirate ships. The first volleys hit home within seconds. Small ships disintegrated instantly under the onslaught, their shields overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of firepower. Larger ships fared little better, their hulls melting under the intense heat before exploding in massive fireballs.
Within moments, the outermost edges of the pirate fleet were in chaos. Ships veered off-course, some colliding with one another in their desperate attempts to escape the deadly barrage. Alarm sirens blared across the pirate comm channels, panic spreading like wildfire.
"Captain, we've destroyed over a hundred ships in the first volley," Harris reported, though his tone remained as calm as ever. "Several more are crippled."
"Good," Drover replied, her eyes cold. "Keep firing. I want them crushed."
The Crumbling Everest unleashed another devastating broadside, the lasers cutting through the pirates like a scythe through wheat. Explosions dotted the void as ship after ship was reduced to scrap metal and vapor.
The pirate fleet, once a proud and seemingly invincible armada gathered in tribute to their new king, was now nothing more than a chaotic swarm of ships trying to flee from the wrath of the Crumbling Everest. What had once been an impressive sight—a force of over 2,000 pirate vessels assembled in the Belvares System to crown Cegar Fraggar as the Pirate King—was now a disjointed mess of crippled ships and desperate captains. But no matter where they turned, no matter how fast they tried to escape, the Crumbling Everest loomed over them like a reaper, its silent, black hull swallowing any hope of retreat.
Captain Jessica Drover stood tall at the command station of her battleship, her sharp gaze fixed on the holographic display that showed the battlefield. The once-dense fleet had collapsed inward, a shrinking ball of panic and debris now slowly being forced toward the heart of the system, toward the flagship of Cegar Fraggar himself—the Broken Claw. Drover could sense the fear radiating from the pirates, their confusion and terror palpable even from the safety of her bridge. This wasn't just a battle; it was an execution. And she intended to make it through.
"Captain," Lieutenant Harris's voice broke the silence of the bridge, calm but charged with a sense of readiness. "Enemy flagship is now within range of the MAC. We can take it out with a single shot."
Drover's lips curled into a cold, calculating smile. The spinal-mounted Magnetic Accelerator Cannon was the Crumbling Everest's most powerful weapon, a single slug capable of vaporizing entire continents, let alone a ship like The Broken Claw. It would be easy to end this quickly. But Drover wasn't interested in easy. She wanted to savor the destruction.
"Not yet," Drover replied coolly, her voice steady. "We'll save that one for last. Let them watch their fleet burn first. Full broadside. I want their strongest ships gone before we deal with the king."
Harris nodded, relaying the orders to the gunnery crews. "Aye, Captain. Broadside arrays are primed. Targeting their heavier vessels."
The bridge lights dimmed momentarily as the power systems redirected energy to the massive laser batteries along the sides of the Crumbling Everest. Each array hummed with lethal energy, the concentrated beams ready to slice through the pirate ships like a hot knife through butter. Drover watched as targeting reticles lit up across the battlefield, locking onto the largest of the remaining pirate vessels—those that still had enough firepower to put up a fight.
"Fire," Drover commanded.
A volley of searing red beams erupted from the sides of the Crumbling Everest, cutting across the void with terrifying speed and precision. The first targets were two heavily armed frigates, each bristling with weaponry and armored in thick plating. The laser beams tore through them effortlessly, carving deep gouges into their hulls. One frigate exploded almost instantly, its engines igniting in a catastrophic fireball that sent shrapnel flying in all directions. The second frigate tried to maneuver out of the barrage, but it was too slow. The laser fire ripped through its core, and it disintegrated in a flash of light, leaving nothing but twisted metal in its wake.
Across the battlefield, other pirate vessels suffered the same fate. Destroyers and cruisers that had once stood as the pride of their captains were now reduced to flaming wrecks, their crews screaming in terror as they were vaporized by the relentless onslaught. Some ships tried to return fire, their laser cannons and missile pods launching desperate salvos toward the Crumbling Everest, but it was like throwing stones at a mountain. The battleship's shields absorbed the few hits that made contact, the energy dissipating harmlessly against the invisible barrier.
"Shields holding at 99.2%, Captain," Harris reported, his tone still calm, though there was a hint of satisfaction beneath it.
"Good," Drover replied, her eyes never leaving the display. "Keep up the pressure. I want no survivors."
As more pirate ships were obliterated, the remaining vessels started to panic. Drover could see them breaking formation, captains making irrational decisions as they tried to flee. But there was nowhere to run. The Crumbling Everest was faster, more powerful, and unyielding. Drover had anticipated every move they could make, and her ship was already positioned to cut off any escape routes.
One particularly bold pirate cruiser broke off from the main group, its engines flaring as it attempted to charge straight toward the Crumbling Everest. It was a suicide run, a last-ditch effort to damage the human battleship. Drover didn't even flinch.
"Let it come," she said, a note of dark amusement in her voice.
The pirate cruiser barreled toward them, its weapons blazing. Missiles streaked toward the Crumbling Everest, but the ship's point-defense systems intercepted them with ease, detonating each one before it could come close. The cruiser closed the distance, its captain clearly intent on ramming into the human ship's side.
"Now," Drover said, her voice calm as ever.
In a flash, one of the Crumbling Everest's broadside arrays fired a focused burst of laser fire. The beams struck the pirate cruiser dead center, cutting it clean in half. The two halves of the ship spiraled away in opposite directions, debris and bodies spilling out into the cold void.
Drover allowed herself a small smile. The Crumbling Everest was a weapon of perfection, a machine designed for annihilation, and she commanded it like an artist painting a masterpiece.
"Captain," Harris said again, his voice more urgent this time. "We're detecting a power surge from The Broken Claw. Looks like they're preparing to jump out of the system."
Drover's smile vanished. She had expected Cegar Fraggar to try and escape once the battle turned against him, but she wasn't about to let that happen. Not after all this. The Pirate King wouldn't leave this system alive.
"Prepare the MAC," Drover ordered, her tone sharp. "We're not letting him slip away."
The hum of the ship's power core deepened as energy was redirected to the Magnetic Accelerator Cannon. The massive weapon, stretching nearly the entire length of the battleship, began to charge, its capacitors drawing in energy at an alarming rate. On the display, Drover could see The Broken Claw positioning itself for a jump, its engines flaring as it prepared to escape.
"MAC charged, Captain," Harris confirmed.
Drover's eyes narrowed. "Lock on target."
The targeting reticle locked onto The Broken Claw, now fully within range. Cegar Fraggar's flagship was a formidable vessel, larger than most of the pirate ships, heavily armed and shielded. But none of that would matter. Not against the Crumbling Everest's MAC.
"Fire at 10% output. Aim for the engines."
The MAC discharged with a thunderous, deep rumble, reverberating through the ship's hull. The kinetic energy from the 10% power shot was still enough to send shockwaves rippling through space. A massive, glowing slug shot out of the MAC's barrel, cutting through the void between the Crumbling Everest and the Broken Claw with unerring precision.
The projectile streaked toward its target, a blur of light and energy, hurtling toward The Broken Claw's engines at a speed faster than the naked eye could follow. For a split second, it seemed as though nothing had happened. Then, the impact hit.
The slug struck the pirate king's ship with devastating force, slamming directly into the massive engines at the rear of the vessel. The blast sent a ripple of destruction through the Broken Claw, metal buckling and twisting as the kinetic energy tore through its systems. The glow of the engines sputtered out in an instant, their power cut off entirely. Debris and superheated plasma exploded outward, like a flower blooming in a storm of fire and metal.
Inside the Broken Claw, chaos erupted. Consoles sparked and exploded, sending crew members flying as power surges raced through the ship. The klaxon alarms screamed through the corridors, and the pirate crew scrambled to get control of the situation, but it was far too late. The jump drive short-circuited, the engines were offline, and the ship was dead in space. All momentum ceased, leaving The Broken Claw floating helplessly in the void.
On the bridge of the Crumbling Everest, Harris watched the readouts and turned to Drover. "Direct hit, Captain. Their engines are offline. They're stranded."
Drover smiled coldly. "Good. Now focus on the other ships. Let them watch."
The bridge of the Crumbling Everest remained eerily calm in contrast to the chaos erupting within The Broken Claw. The giant screens before Captain Jessica Drover displayed the destruction unfolding across the system as fleeing pirate ships became easy prey for her vessel's superior firepower. Harris, the weapons officer, nodded at her command and swiftly redirected the targeting arrays, bringing more of the remaining pirate ships into their sights.
"Aye, Captain. Focusing on the stragglers," he confirmed.
The Crumbling Everest shifted slightly in space, its massive bulk turning gracefully as its broadside lasers charged, ready for another volley. Across the battlefield, smaller pirate vessels—frigates, corvettes, and fighters—were desperately trying to scatter, forming chaotic escape vectors, but none could escape the long reach of the human warship. One by one, beams of concentrated light cut through space, each shot finding its target with pinpoint accuracy. Hulls were sliced cleanly in half, exploding in bursts of oxygen and fire, leaving nothing but shattered wreckage and twisted metal.
"Targets neutralized, Captain," Harris said with calm efficiency. "Thirty more pirate vessels have been destroyed."
Drover folded her arms, watching the devastation with an icy gaze. "Perfect. Let them see what happens when they defy us. Continue to pick off the rest, but leave The Broken Claw alone for now. We want them to feel helpless."
She turned her attention back to the holodisplay, where The Broken Claw remained a helpless behemoth, adrift in the void, its once imposing presence reduced to a broken shell. Inside, Drover knew the panic would be setting in. The crew, demoralized and leaderless, had no chance of survival. And Cegar Fraggar, the so-called Pirate King, was trapped with no way out.
"Commencing bombardment of smaller vessels," Harris said as the Crumbling Everest unleashed another broadside, lasers lancing out in every direction. Explosions flared across the system, tiny blips disappearing from the display as the pirate fleet was reduced to nothing more than debris.
The Crumbling Everest's sleek missile pods fired in rapid succession, leaving trails of blue light streaking across the void. The pods detonated with surgical precision, sending shockwaves through the pirate ranks. For every shot that hit, another vessel was reduced to dust. The carnage was unrelenting, the precision of the Crumbling Everest akin to a hunter slowly picking off its prey, one by one.
Despite the devastation, Drover remained cold and detached, her mind already focused on the next steps. She walked back to her command chair, resting one hand on its arm as she watched the tactical display unfold. "What's the count?"
Harris ran a quick scan, then reported back. "Over eighty percent of their fleet is destroyed or incapacitated, Captain. We're mopping up the last resistance now."
Drover nodded. "Good. Make sure none escape. No survivors."
She leaned back, her expression unyielding. This was the message she needed to send. Humanity ruled the stars now, and anyone who defied them would be erased from existence, just like this pirate armada.
As the final pirate ships fell under the unrelenting barrage, Drover shifted her attention back to The Broken Claw. The crippled flagship floated lifeless in the void, its massive form casting a long shadow across the wreckage of the fleet that had once served it.
Drover's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Prepare a boarding party. It's time to meet our friend."
"Yes, Captain." Harris keyed in the command, and within moments, the boarding crews were being readied. Elite marines in exo-suits were already suiting up in the hangars, checking weapons and systems as they prepared to breach the pirate king's ship.
"Shall I lead the boarding team?" asked Lieutenant Colonel Mahler, stepping forward. He was one of Drover's most trusted officers, a veteran of countless boarding operations.
"No," Drover replied. "I'm going down myself."
Mahler raised an eyebrow, though he didn't question her. Drover might have been a Captain in the Admiralty, but she damn well qualified for any special forcer group in SoCon.
"Understood," Mahler said with a nod. "We'll make sure the area is secured."
The minutes ticked by as the Crumbling Everest closed in on The Broken Claw. Drover suited up in her black exo-armor, the sleek design making her look every bit the warrior as she prepared for the final act of this battle. Her sidearm, a custom-made plasma pistol, was holstered at her side, and a combat knife hung from her waist. She didn't expect much resistance, but she was always ready for a fight.
"Boarding teams are ready," Mahler said through the comms.
"Launch," Drover commanded, her voice cold with authority.
The boarding pods shot from the Crumbling Everest, hurtling through space and locking onto The Broken Claw's hull. Explosions rocked the pirate ship's exterior as the pods breached the hull, allowing Drover and her marines to storm the corridors of the pirate king's vessel.
Inside The Broken Claw, chaos reigned. The crew panicked and disorganized, tried in vain to mount a defense, but they were no match for Drover's highly trained marines. The halls echoed with the sounds of gunfire and explosions as her soldiers swept through the ship, cutting down any pirates that dared stand in their way.
Drover moved through the corridors with a precision and coldness that matched her ship. Every step was purposeful, every shot lethal. Pirate after pirate fell before her, their weapons useless against the advanced armor and tactics of the human boarding teams. Drover's marines moved like a well-oiled machine, clearing room after room with brutal efficiency.
Finally, they reached the bridge.
The doors to the bridge were blasted open with a controlled detonation, and Drover led the charge inside. The bridge crew scattered, some drawing weapons, others trying to flee, but none succeeded. Her marines made quick work of them, leaving the bridge floor littered with bodies.
At the center of the chaos stood Cegar Fraggar.
The batarian pirate king was a towering figure, his four eyes burning with fury as he stood defiantly before Drover. His armor was dented and scorched from the earlier blast, but he still held a massive blade in his hand, ready to fight to the bitter end.
"You think you've won, human?" Fraggar snarled, his voice a guttural growl. "You've destroyed my fleet, but you'll never rule the Terminus."
Drover stepped forward, her expression unreadable beneath the dark visor of her helmet. She doesn't even deign to answer.
Fraggar roared and lunged at her, swinging his blade in a wild arc. But Drover was faster. She sidestepped the attack with ease, drawing her plasma pistol in one smooth motion and firing point-blank into Fraggar's chest. The plasma bolt burned through his armor, sending the batarian stumbling backward with a howl of pain.
Before he could recover, Drover closed the distance, her combat knife flashing as she drove it into Fraggar's side, twisting it for good measure. The pirate king gasped, blood spilling from his wounds as he collapsed to his knees.
Captain Jessica Aurelia Drover stepped onto the bridge of the Crumbling Everest once more, her crimson hair cascading from beneath her helmet as she removed it with a swift motion. The metallic scent of the air filled her senses as she turned her gaze toward the tactical display showing the remnants of the once mighty pirate fleet. Ships that had once boasted strength and arrogance now lay in ruins, shattered pieces of their hulls drifting helplessly through the void.
With a cold expression, she gave the order. "Prepare the MAC. Destroy The Broken Claw."
The ship shuddered as the MAC discharged, launching a hyper-accelerated slug of metal toward the pirate flagship. The shot moved faster than the eye could track, a blur of death streaking across the void. It hit The Broken Claw dead center.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, in an instant, The Broken Claw ceased to exist. The entire ship was vaporized, reduced to nothing but a rapidly expanding cloud of gas and debris. The shockwave from the impact rippled outward, tearing apart any smaller ships caught in its path. The Pirate King, Cegar Fraggar, was no more.
Drover watched the explosion with cold satisfaction. The battle was over.
"Status?" she asked, her voice calm once again.
'All enemy ships are destroyed, Captain. Combat Duration: 4 minutes 23.07 seconds.' The shipboard Ai announces.
Drover nodded. "Good. Begin cleanup operations. Let's make sure nothing is left."
Suddenly a transmission came on the comm channel.
'This is Colonel Jeremiah Aurelian Shepard, of the Placid Raven, Authorisation code: 17394B-LN-Gamma, requesting assistance from all nearby ships. We have civilian refugees. I repeat, we have civilian Refugees.'
Her eyebrows furrowed as her beautiful face took a hint of annoyance."Chart a path…"
~~~~~~~~XXXXX~~~~~~~~XXXXX~~~~~~~
Lore Time
SSV Crumbling Everest: A standard model of a kinetic mounted battleship. 2.93 Km long, 500m at its widest, and 245m at its deepest. It can fire a 60-ton depleted uranium slug at 1% the speed of light (64000 kilotons of TNT) or alternatively a 600-ton slug at 0.6% the speed of light (232000 kilotons of TNT). It is the flagship of the 6th Recon Flotilla of the 7th fleet. Currently assigned to the Terminus Expeditionary force.
Fun fact!
Jessica Aurelia Drover: N7 rated right out of the academy. She has a hint of Blue in her green eyes. She is loved, respected, and feared by her crew because she has a no-nonsense always work mentality and doesn't tolerate mistakes. Often reprimanding her subordinates rather harshly. But those who have worked with her for longer know that though she is harsh, she cares about her crew a lot, often making time out of her schedule to personally listen to the problems and grievances of her crew.
Harris Vesta: Hacker extraordinaire. Was part of the special division on the Strike Fleet basilisk. But was later demoted and reassigned to The Crumbling Everest because he hacked into the personal files of his Supervisor. Has a zero-care mentality. On the verge of being fired.
Zachary Mahler: He has the names of his wife and 2 daughters tattooed on his heart, not on the skin above it, on the actual heart. N6 rated. Plans to soon retire and make an orchard on one of the new expansion worlds of the Traverse.
A/N
There it is folks, a glimpse of the actual military of humanity compared to the rest of the Galaxy. yes, they are overpowered, and that's because kinetic shields don't stop lasers. and deflectors are far more efficient.
Have a great day!