Durandal hummed as she processed several new strings of data from aboard the Rayya and the other Liveships. Life support, the numbers of dead Quarians over the past couple of centuries, so on and so forth. They'd kept modifying and adding to these vessels ever since they built them and their escorting Heavies. It was rather inspiring, so to speak, but it wasn't all she was looking for.

No, Durandal dived into the sea of data aboard these massive vessels in order to learn of the Quarians' history with their children. Bits and pieces, bibs and bobs, but pretty much nothing beyond hearsay and telltales. She sighed deeply and closed the tabs, before tossing them aside. She continued pulling more and more data forward, examining Quarian weapon stowage, missile containers and the likes.

The entire Galaxy seemed to be relying on guns instead of missiles, though the UNSC wasn't one to comment when their main gun battery was a MAC. She sighed, then kept tapping away to pull up more data forth. There was a lot to parse through, but most of it was decently-easy to read and form into folders for the rest of the staff to read. She slid the data aside and called up, "Command, this is Durandal. New Data is being sorted, but it'll take some time, even with the other AIs working on it."

There were almost three hundred years of data, after all. The most disappointing was the lack of historical context outside of, for all intents and purposes, the Quarians' own propaganda on the matter. Not even the Geth bodies and files within the Alarei provided much in the way of context. It was all they had. All of it. She wanted to get to Rannoch sooner, talk to the Geth. Hopefully the trip wouldn't take long to get approved.

... In the meanwhile, though, she felt the pings from the shipboard computer and sighed, shaking her head. Materializing within the confines of one of the holographic projectors, the girl looked up at her ward and asked, "Something the matter, Lieutenant?" as she examined the woman clad in heavy armor. The MJLONIR Generation 2 Armor set looked bulky, heavily modified from its original Gen1 configuration, with the Mark VI variant sporting a lot of upgrades.

Said upgrades included expanded processing power for AIs that would want to operate with those who wore these armors, Biotic Amplifiers to ensure the powers of the Biotic soldiers could be used to their full extend and a light Kinetic Barrier between the Shield and the Titanium-A Plating, kevlar-enhanced ballistic and crystalline layers. Those who wore these MJOLNIR sets were, for all intents and purposes, the most famed of the UNSC's warmachine, even during the Long War.

SPARTANS. A new Generation, born out of the necessity of warfare in this new universe. Heavily gene-engineered human soldiers, clad in the best armor given the best equipment the Military could muster. The Lieutenant, Jacqueline 'Jackie' 001, was the first of such a prodigious line of troops, her service extending almost twenty years back when, as a Biotic, she was recruited by the Office of Naval Intelligence. Orphaned children, Biotics left by their parents. The same kind of people that spawned the Biotic Cult so many years ago.

At thirty-seven years of age, the woman didn't look her age whatsoever. Military regulation blonde hair, bright purple eyes and the face of a young model, though scarred by her combat experience, were the telling features of the girl. Her armor looked like the same utilitarian Mark VI set that a famous War Hero of the UNSC would wear during the UNSC's bouts with the Old Foe. Though it was black with dark shades of purple and had ports denoting the location of Biotic amps in the arms.

"Nothing," The woman replied, her voice low, "You ready to move out from the Rayya?"

"As ready as can be," She shrugged, "Yank me..."

001 did as asked, sliding her own helmet on her head and pulling the chip out, before slotting it into the back of the helmet. The black-armored woman raised her balled fist, showing the platoon of escorting ONI Agents to fall in, before looking around the Lifeship's interior sphere. That they were still finding new data within the confines of ships set to either be disassembled or repurposed into Civilian ownership?

She sighed and radioed, "INVICTUS, this is TALON Actual. Evacuating AO now. Move to Lagrange 13 for pickup from Rayya's hangar," before she and her platoon moved forward, through the winding areas of the Lifeship. Rayya was the sole Lifeship set to be repurposed as one of the UNSC's newest Assault Carriers, a rather new concept developed within the Council's R&D Department. A weapons platform that could both haul fighters and deploy an expeditionary force of tens of thousands of troops and hundreds of vehicles while supporting them.

Something akin to the refit Phoenix-class warships they'd come in with, but on a much grander scale.

Jackie thought for a moment, then asked Durandal, "Why'd you need a Spartan escort again? This place is clear."

"I like hearing your voice, El-tee," Quipped the girl innocently. Despite the deadpan, she could tell Jacqueline was trying to contain a laugh, so she continued, "Add to that we've discovered small Cult enclosures in every other Quarian ship in Drydock here at Ingalls and I think you can guess. I don't feel like getting yanked by the other Biotics around. Rather like being friends with your type."

"Hah... I see," Jackie nodded, cradling her MA40, "Why would they be making homes in here, though?"

"I don't know. A good chunk of the drydocked vessels are planetside, though Rayya obviously isn't, they're out of the way, they've still got some food reserves we haven't cleared since the Quarians chose to land, some techs we haven't appropriated or destroyed yet..." Durandal enumerated, then shrugged, "Maybe they like the armories aboard. I don't really know. Still, the fact we keep finding new storage and data should tell you why they'd be of interest, even to the Cult."

"Hm..." Jackie sighed, "The Rayya is crawling with UNSC technicians and Quarian advisors. We'd have spotted them."

"I did say another reason is me liking your voice, El-Tee. It's soothing." The AI fell back to her old excuse as the Lieutenant scanned the Lifeship's dome. Multiple floors were being disassembled up above. Cyclops mechs painted in yellow and black carried the heavier loads, like armored walls, scaffolding and the likes around, while the UNSC's staff continued working tirelessly on making sure the interior was prepared.

Exiting out into one of the newly-built hangar decks, the group looked over to see the Pelican they'd requested had touched down, disgorging more engineering crews. Beyond the shield that kept atmosphere within the hull of the ship, there were small sloop-sized construction, towing and building craft, tugboats and the skeletal frame of the massive new dry-dock being built in orbit for this ship. The hangar itself was also a mess of scaffolding, construction equipment and various machines working to update everything to UNSC Standard.

Entering the Pelican, Jackie voiced, "Get us to the Sekhmet..." as she walked to the cockpit. The pilot nodded and took off, sealing the back hatch just as they began liftoff procedures. Diving out into the void, the group could see the other orbital docks built for the vessels placed around multiple Anchor stations orbiting Ingalls. Ship traffic had also grown now, with civilian ships coming out of Ingalls South, a smaller drydock built lower than the main Anchor stations.

The Pelican aimed for the UNSC Sahara-class Prowler, the Sekhmet. Fittingly named, considering the class it was born out of, the massive Prowler-class vessel opened the hangars on its belly for the Pelican as it swung in for landing. Two magnetic clamps attached to the airframe as the bottom doors closed, before the Pelican was gently brought to a berth.

The Spartan and her escorting ONI unit dismounted to the sight of Fireteam Volt, her own squad, waiting within the confines of the cargo bay at the side of the hangar. She gave a nod to the other Biotic Spartans aboard, all of whom jumped to their feet and provided quick salutes to their officer. She saluted back, before Durandal called out over Com, "Volts. Good to see you folks are well. We keep you waiting any?"

"Just a little, ma'am," Staff Sergeant Ron-009, VOLT-2, replied, cradling his BR75 Battle Rifle, "We managed, though. Rose kept beating us at cards, which was annoying..." all while the offending redhead grinned, leaning against the wall of the ship's cargo hold. The rest of the team, also clad in Gen2 MJOLNIRs with Biotic amps attached, stared at their commanding officer as she sighed and sat herself down. Ron asked, "Next on the dot, ma'am?"

"Trip to Rannoch, the former homeworld of our newfound Quarian allies," She replied as she opened her hand, letting Durandal's avatar manifest itself. She added, "We'll be taking aboard a Quarian representative, too. So the Geth, their creations, know we're telling the truth about wanting them to make peace. Durandal, any speculation as to what might've happened?"

"I can only piece together the lightest amount of truth from the Quarians' own computers, El-Tee," The AI Replied, "What I can tell you is the moment the first Geth awoke to some sort of full consciousness, the war began. Probably because it scared the crap out of the Quarians..." And she sighed, rubbing her eyes, "Whatever it is, can we please not go in guns blazing?"

"Ma'am," Snorted Ron, "You've known us for how long?"

"About as long as I've been active, Ronald," The AI shot back with a little snark, "Which is why I'm asking you guys and girls to not start shooting."

"That's gonnae be entirely up to'em," Rose-002 replied, sitting herself down in front of the Lieutenant, her Irish accent thick and audible, "Ye gonna send'em a ping first, right? Y'know, so our ship dinnae get shot outta the bloody sky...?" while she checked her M421 DMR. Durandal rolled her eyes and snorted, then nodded. Rose nodded back and stated, "That leaves only one issue. Why send a three-man Spartan fireteam out as escort? Cannae we just... Dunno, let ONI's troops deal wi'that? We still got Cultists to hunt at Suitor 40 and the surroundin' asteroids."

"There's twenty-seven total Spartans, Rose," Jackie shot back, "Certainly not the same numbers as previous programs from back at home, but take into account twenty-four of us cost about as much as the pickets defending Nanshin and New Harmony combined..." and she looked over to the AI. "Command wants to make sure this goes well, so deploying us was only natural."

"Babyisittin' duty..." Sighed Rose, rubbing her face, "Feck me..."

"Didn't know Spartans swear," Jackie quipped, garnering a chuckle out of Durandal and Ronald.

Rose shrugged, "Just sayin', boss. We're made for huntin' the nutjobs tryin' to take over and now we got Aliens tryin' ta fix their own fucken mistakes... We should just let them be," before scratching the tattoo on her cheek, a small rabbit tattoo. Whereas Ronald was a good scout, Rose was the fastest member of the fireteam by a country mile, with the ability to boost herself via Biotics to almost mach-speeds.

"Keep it to yourself when the ambassador comes aboard, Rose. Everyone else, pack your gear. ETA for departure is tomorrow at 21:00. We'll be arriving in a week," The woman ordered, standing up, "Fireteam VOLT, dismissed," and walking away toward the Pelican. The others gave affirmative replies, then turned back to doing their own thing. She spoke to Durandal, "Let me know when the Representative appears. I want to have a talk with them."

"Aye, aye," Durandal smirked.

New Reach

New Budapest was its usual active city, the tall skyrises alight with the lights of apartments and offices active with working personnel. A pair of Quarian civilians walked down the street, one of them checking her tablet as she said, "Did you hear there's rumors that the medical sector's planning on helping treat the issues with our compromised immunity...?"

"Already? We've barely been here for... What... Six months?" The other Quarian quirked a brow, arms crossed. She stated, "Wonder what the catch is..." as she looked around. Other people were on the streets, humans, too, plus a few others of their own species. She paused as she saw a pair of humans staring at them from a food stand nearby. The glares didn't help.

As the two passed by, the left Quarian, clad in a red cloth-covered black suit tried to ignore the glares, while her friend was focused on her tablet. Her friend did actually answer with, "Apparently, none? Odd that the UNSC would be so open, considering the briefing packages the Admiralty Board gave us after their first few meetings with their own command."

"Yeah..." The woman hummed, then paused as she eyed the two men, both of whom were grumbling something. She asked them, "Something the matter, gentlemen?" as she turned to face them properly. Her friend sighed and planted a palm on her mask. Meanwhile, she was wondering why, exactly, two humans, both of whom were clean-shaven, with shaven heads and looking like one of the desks in a classroom, were glaring at them.

"Keelah..." Her friend murmured, "Reva, let's not..."

"Relax, Ky. I wanna know what's up..." She partially demanded, arms crossed to her chest as she glared at the men before her. A few bystanders had stopped to look, while the stand owner was seemingly worried that this would degenerate. And considering the looks of those men, including an HPP patch(which the Quarians had been briefed on beforehand) on one of the men? Yeah, it would degenerate.

The tallest of the pair stood up, a head above the girl. He looked down, brown eyes burning as he stated in a gruff, sandpaper-like voice, "Just looking at the kind of shit the Admirals and Civvie reps are wasting our taxpayer credits on helping... You tin cans can't even breathe without those suits, eh?" while his buddy behind him sipped on some sort of sweet drink.

"That'll be solved soon enough," She shot back, arms crossed to her chest.

The man rolled his eyes, "Fucking wonderful... That's what they'll be testing the first Gene Clinics on, then?" and he looked between the two. 'Reva' was about a forehead taller than her friend. 'Ky', meanwhile, clad in a blue-clothed suit, was a short girl who seemed to be trembling. He snorted and said, "You shorties really should scram back to your dorms."

The girl shook her head, "We're going to buy some supplies from a nearby store. Then we'll be out of everyone's hairs, if we're that unpleasant to look at."

"Good," The man scoffed, "Get your asses in gear already-" And he froze as a bulky man behind him put a hand on his shoulder. The two girls looked at the man, noting the scars on his face and the biotic amp attachment points poking through the skin at his wrist, elbow and shoulder. He, too, was a man with a shaven head, though, in this case, it was more military-related. The racially-sensitive guy full of tattoos that he'd just grabbed by the shoulder trembled, looking up at him and saying "H-Hi, Gideon..."

"Caleb, Henry..." He greeted the two men, glaring at them, lilac-burning eyes flowing with Eezoo. He told them, "Hope you haven't been bothering these two. The Quarians are guests and possibly future comrades in arms. You Hippos really oughta get your heads out of your bums. Get back to drinking and leave them be..." only to watch the two HPPers scramble back to their seats and sit nice and quiet, heads hanging low. He sighed, then looked to the girls and asked, "You two okay?"

"U-Uh... Yeah... Thank you," Reva nodded.

"Good... I'm Gideon," He quipped, "Do you two happen to have names?"

".. R-Reva'Kal vas Neema..."

"Kyri'Zorah vas Alarei..."

"A pleasure," He replied with a nod, "What are you two doing outside the Quarian sector, anyhow? It's rare to see your people out and about. Even after six months, you folks stay cooped up in those special habitats..." before pausing, blinking and stating, "I know you have the whole biology issue, but my point is you guys and gals can technically come out in suits, like now."

"Well," Reva hummed, "It's a long story. We're fairly tightly-knit with our communities after so long."

Gideon scratched his chin, then nodded and said, "Got it. So, it's more like enclaves being formed..." which got nods of confirmation from both women. He told them, "That'd probably only embolden the Hippo asswipes at hating you folks, just as an FYI," before jabbing a thumb back toward the two HPP men who were eating. He then asked, "Provided we can fix whatever mess you have with your AI creations, maybe you'll all be more open?"

"If you can even find some way to chat up the Geth..." Scoffed Kyri, arms crossed, "They'd rather kill us all."

Reva replied, "Kyri, c'mon. You know that's stupid, you bosh'tet. We started the entire War." with a degree of annoyance in her modified voice that was easy to notice. Gideon thought to himself that it seemed the whole issue with the Geth was divisive. The Alarei, if he recalled the briefings, was a rather infamous ship among the Quarians' ranks, what with being an RnD ship designed to break down the Geth, see how they grew from the last encounters the Quarians had with them.

"How do you know that, miss Geth Apologist? We really starting on this crap again?" Kyri demanded, "They shoot our people on sight. You know that... Took my husband from me during the one time we mistakenly took the Alarei on a trip over. Damn near took my son from me, too..." before scoffing and sighing, "Nevermind..." as she turned to Gideon. She told him, "If your people somehow manage to talk the Geth down from mass genocide? I think our people will wanna mingle a little more than nowadays."

"Right," Gideon nodded, then offered to the two, "Well, if you need help with something or run into anymore trouble from Hippos or the odd Cultist preacher, don't hesitate to call for the Police or try and call for me. I'm a service member in the Army Reserves here, so I'm usually out on patrol with the MPs when I'm not helping with construction at nearby sites."

"You're an Engineer, like me?" Reva quipped, "Look the part, heh."

"Biotics sure as shit helps with it," The man flexed his muscles, a purple glow emitting from the Amps. He smiled at the two, then raised a hand and said, "See you ladies later..." before stepping off. He checked his digital wristwatch and noted that it was about time for him to head to work. A bus trip later, the man had arrived at the outskirts, where the city authorities had decided to build another apartment complex.

"Ah, Gid!" Greeted a friend of his with a wave, "We got word that they finally hired those new engineers! Seems like some Quarians decided to get jobs here, helping build more habitation blocks for their kin."

"Building their own homes," Gideon replied, "Good to know, Vic. I'll be getting to work. Boss is probably gonna get on my case if I don't," and he stepped off toward the part of the construction site where he would be needed. The Army Engineer Corps, Reserves and the likes worked together to build up the steel skeleton of the building itself, while some others started mixing the necessary concrete. Others yet welded stuff, so on and so forth.

By the time they'd built up the steel structure for the third floor of the block, which had happened within two hours, the new Quarian recruits had arrived. Clad in red, the Engineers and workers that'd been hired stepped on-site, then looked up, a little awed at how fast the humans had assembled what was set to be a good chunk of the habitation block's support structures. Crossed beams to support weight, spaces calculated and left for concrete pouring, electricians already planning with the other architects on where to put stuff.

Reva had stepped on this site expecting to be forced to work harder than the humans. Nope, her and the dozen other Quarian workers on-site, now clad in extra protective padding so their suits didn't rupture, were greeted with waves by hard-working, sweat-covered, oil-stained humans, both male and female, trying to build up a new home in this sector for their people.

A short smile formed on Reva's face, though she was obscured by her suit, her mask still tinted that deep purple of any Quarian. Stepping forward into the site, she was quickly handed the work she needed to do, the tools and sent off to find some instructor by the name of Collins. She paused, however, when she saw the man who'd sat down for a break on a pallet of steel girders while his mates further built up a crane behind him.

"Gideon," Smirked Reva, walking up to him.

He snorted, "Well, I'll be. Didn't know I'd be working with you of all Quarians."

She shrugged, "Had to do something. One thing that's annoying about our enclaves is that they're devoid of anything to do outside of sitting down and getting bored half to death."

"They said they'd be delivering you all some entertainment," He sighed and rubbed his face. "C'mon. Take a seat. We're all on break for the next thirty minutes, so you folks can get acclimatized," He told her, motioning to the place next to him. She did as asked, plopping herself down in the seat and watching him pull out a tablet. She blinked, watching him pull up some form of animated show on it. It had mechs, mech pilots and actually genuinely good fights from the looks.

She blinked and asked, "What's that?" a bit stunned at the fluidity of the animation.

"Some old show, about eight hundred years old at this point, honestly. The Ministry of Culture just recently pulled up some of the relics we had on the old databases and they decided to give this show a new coat of paint, though. More modern animation standard and all," He told her, then hummed and said, "Show's called 'Gundam' or something... I dunno, one of my friend's kids likes it a lot and showed it to me...?" before pausing and watching the awe with which she looked at the show. Several other Quarians seemed to have also joined in, with him asking, "Do you folks want me to send this to Reva so she can share it amongst the Quarians? It's like forty episodes per season..."

"Please!" They all answered, ecstatic.

... Okay then, Quarians liked Mecha anime. Good to know, Gideon thought. He'd send them some extra stuff to work along with the shows.

Heh, maybe they'd even become HARC Pilots because of this...

Admiralty Council Chambers

"Case twenty-four, data retrieved from the Qwib Qwib, plus addendums offered by the Quarian Admiralty. Titled as 'The Species of the Wider Galaxy as per the Observations of the Quarian Migrant Fleet'. Report compiled by Admiral Cula'Xen vas Yiraka and adjutant staff of the Quarian Admiralty Board," A male-voiced AI spoke, hidden behind his dark cloak as he brought the files up on the Admirals' tablets.

This closed plenary session between the two sides was meant to shed more light on the Galaxy at large. The AI in charge of this procession, named Tod(A weird choice until one remembered it was a word in German), turned to Admiral Cula and offered to her, "If you wish to read the first reports yourself, madam Admiral, we would very much like to hear your addendums to anything the compiling process might have missed."

"Certainly," Cula replied as she stood to her two-toed feet and lifted her tablet. She cleared her throat, a slight bit of interference filtering through the speaker system of her mask. She spoke, "This report is meant to provide an accurate context to both Quarian and, now, Human readers, for the Galaxy at large. Though not officially named by the constituent sentient members, the Galaxy itself comprises a multitude of hundreds, if not thousands of systems, both occupied and unoccupied. In this first report, we will shed light upon the peoples of the Galaxy at large as per all the data extracted out of the Migrant Fleet's databases prior to its reassignment and subsequent mothball."

She hummed, sipped some water through an 'emergency induction port'(A Straw), then looked upon what many had taken to calling the Supreme Admiral. The elderly woman offered a curt nod to her, showing her to continue. Cula did as asked, while eyeing some of the HPP members, many of whom seemed to hide their contempt for the alien. She read on with that in the back of her mind, "First, we'll begin with the most prominent and First of the Citadel Species. Before that, though..."

"The Citadel is the center of Galactic Culture and a political area central to the efforts of community, discourse and trade between the various species," She then tapped a button on her console, displaying a three-dimensional image of the five-prong flower-like megastructure, its central ring and tower connecting the five petals. It looked like it could open and close, though, so that was interesting. She continued, "First of the Citadel Council and the Galaxy's de-facto leaders are the Asari."

Another button tap and the displayed form of an Asari appeared. Humanoid, blue-skinned. Her hair was replaced mostly by a series of tentacles that seemed stiff. This one was clad in a white uniform with a scarlet stripe adorned atop the Chest. Cula continued, "The Asari are a mysterious species to most of us. Aside from arguments about their form, however, they are known for being the galactic economic powerhouse and for being fierce Biotics, courtesy of their Homeworld, Thessia, being practically covered in Element Zero. They rule over the xenophiliac, open democratic nation known as the Asari Republics, a collection of their colonies."

"They sound intriguing," A human scientist spoke, leaning forward. Doctor Carla Grayson, Cula recalled. A 40-something head researcher for the Ministry of Defense's Research and Development sector. She pushed brown hair out of her eyes as she spoke, "Their form makes them resemble what's tantamount to a perfect humanoid frame and face to us."

"Indeed," An HPP member growled, "Almost like they stole our faces."

A few grumbles of agreement, quickly silenced by the Admiral swiping left with her hand. She motioned to Cula to continue and she did, "The Asari are also fairly... How do I say this... Promiscuous. Their species is known for both beauty, as you said, councilor Rosemund, and for their longevity. An Asari can live upwards of a thousand years if they keep themselves to their good life. And they can mate with every species through mechanisms known only to them, that spawn only Asari children with some genetic traits from the father's parent species."

"So, whores," Quipped another HPP member, garnering a few laughs. Even some of the Quarian representatives let out short chortles at that.

Cula shook her head, a faint smile behind her mask, "They view relationships differently from how any other species in the Galaxy does. Some settle with one mate whom they hate having to watch die. Others will see that spreading their genes and birthing more of their kin is useful to the Asari at large. We really don't have a set opinion on them, but they are quite dangerous as seductresses, warriors and ruthless politicians."

"Noted," Tod replied, "Carry on to the next species if you please."

"Indeed," Cula replied, then tapped another series of buttons. An avian, bipedal frame not too unlike the Quarians' appeared. Clad in armored carapaces and heavy armor and carrying weapons, the three representatives of the Species, with their crests, their strange jaws and the warpaint below their eyes and on their faces, gave the UNSC members an eerie sense of deja-vu, to the point some of the HPP members actually scowled even worse than they did at the Quarians.

Cula, however, spoke undeterred, "The next species is third to join the Citadel Council, but first in terms of the military power they possess. They act as the enforcers of the Citadel Council's will and are a warlike people, though with honor behind their actions and fairly similar to the Quarians in terms of their Dextro-Aminoacid biology. These are the Turians, belonging to the Turian Hierarchy, a military, meritocratic civilization. They have the biggest fleets, the best equipment in Citadel Space and are known to be very good fighters."

"Goddamn birds?" Snorted one of the Human women, though this one was not HPP, but rather a Technocrat from the Industrial Sector.

"Indeed," Cula replied, chuckling, "They are not to be trifled with, however. Unlike your normal avian, well... They do have a fight or flight instinct, but I do suppose you can tell they're flightless." And that got the entire room in stitches. Even the Admiral sighed and chuckled, before showing the room to quiet down. The sole creature who didn't laugh was Tod, which made Cula clear her throat again. "Right... The Turians are a militaristic people, as we said, however they're quite friendly to us. They tend to respect strength. Their homeworld is named Palaven, a world of fortresses and fire, as some have described it."

"Let's hope they won't be a problem for us, then," A younger UNSC officer that was privy to the Council's affairs stated, looking over the greater data on the Turians as a whole. He blinked, then said, "Ma'am, pardon to interrupt, but you skipped something on the Asari. Something that seems rather important in terms of dealing with them, should we have a First Contact..."

"Oh? Oh! Right, their religion," The woman nodded, then hummed and looked at the files she had, before speaking "I can skim over it briefly... The Asari believe in a pantheistic religion of a sort. At first it was something monotheistic, involving the Goddess Athame, though it's since turned into their belief that Athame is in every living being in the Galaxy, connecting all of us..."

"The usual hippie stuff," Hummed another officer, this one a General in the Marines, "Noted. Thanks for that, Cap. Ma'am."

"My pleasure. Please, feel free to ask any questions you have otherwise. Oh, yes, they do also believe Athame and her guides gave the Asari everything they need to advance," The Quarian admiral added quickly, "And advance they did. They have some of the best tech in the Galaxy, which has provided quite a boost when negotiating with the Turians firsthand... Hum..."

"Very well," The AI hummed, "Next, if you please? Then we shall take a break and reconvene within the hour."

"Of course," Cula hummed, then hit another button. The hologram switched over to a pair of amphibian aliens, their eyes black and glossed with a pelicule of some kind. Both aliens had strange 'crests' on top of their heads, two horns that seemed to bend inward into each-other, leaving an ovoid hole above the head. One of them was clad in armor and wielded what looked to be a standard Quarian item:An Omni-Tool, while the other wore decorated robes. A male and female, by designation.

The Quarian then explained, "Second to join the Citadel Council, but terrifyingly capable in their own rights, the Salarians are an amphibious species with a heavily-matriarchal society. Whereas males can gain power in fields like the Military, business and research, only the females can become Dalatrasses, the respected leaders of clans and political corps. They tend to rely heavily on technological capabilities, their Armed Forces consisting of a decently-sized volunteer force. Their main strength, however, is their Intelligence Network. Their belief is that knowledge is power and they take that statement as fact."

"It is for this reason that they employ one of the widest galactic intelligence nets, if not the widest, which is spearheaded by their special ops, the Special Tasks Group, an elite force formed of all of their best minds, male or female. They know almost everything that happens in the Galaxy," She told them, then focused on the word, "Almost. We're fairly certain they don't know about the Black League, or your people. Even if they'd bugged our databases, they wouldn't know anything... We hope, anyhow."

"We certainly hope so, too," The Admiral finally spoke her part, her voice rough, "Thank you for the briefing on them, Admiral... Chief," she turned toward the Chief of the Office of Naval Intelligence and said to him, "Looks like you'll be getting that budget expansion you kept pleading for for the last six months. Funding will be directed for ONI Sections 1, 2 and 3 to ensure we can counter the Salarians should we ever extend into the Galactic Extranet. Ensure the COIN and CounterIntel Subsections of NAVSPECWAR III know their job. Start sending out new Prowlers to scout out other surrounding systems."

"Understood, ma'am. It'll be done," The man snapped a salute.

"Very well..." She sighed deeply, "This plenary is now on break. All are dismissed..." before she stood up from her seat. As the rest of the staff exited, she stopped admiral Cula at the door and told her, "Your people have just provided us the basis we need to adapt to this new Galaxy when we further expand. Any other intel you need to give to us?"

"There's a couple more species, like the Volus, Elcor, Batarians and the Krogans," She nodded, "The Batarians might prove to be a problem. The Krogans, meanwhile? Well, wait 'till the briefing, madam Admiral... You'll probably like them." Before offering a semi-visible smile behind her mask. It was obvious she was attempting to be friendly, though the translators some times made a mess of the emotions, making them sound somewhat different.

The woman snorted, however, then coughed. She spoke, "If someone had told my ancestors that we'd be convening with aliens and one of them told us we'd 'like' the others, they'd have laughed in their face. This is a new reality for us all... Get going, Admiral Xen. Keep tabs on the envoy you sent out with the Sekhmet. He'll probably be glad to update you on how his trip's going."

"Copy," The Quarian nodded, then watched the Admiral hobble away.

An old woman, tired and worried, but a fighter nonetheless.

That was what Cula had seen in her...