Day 05

The Sekhmet exited Slipspace in order to recharge her coils and vent any excess heat just within the confines of a 'No Man's Land' system. A system between UNSC Space and the Veil that was unoccupied, even by mining ships, as per the expansion probes sent out a few months ago. It was a system that was supposed to be distant from even the 'Batarian Hegemony', a faction the Quarians had heavily hinted they'd like to avoid if possible. Slavers, the captain thought, no-good animals who'd steal anyone they wanted to use them in their mines, or sell them off for god-knew-what. Made his blood boil just thinking about'em, but he was an ONI Captain. He had to keep that under wraps aboard his Prowler.

As the Captain stood up in order to walk out and look through the window, he noted the gas giant that the scientists back on Ingalls had called Hegemon-III. Indeed, the third planet from the sun of the system was a gas giant rich in hydrogen. It was another possible target for UNSC expansion into the area, provided they got the Quarians and Geth to agree on things and finally shake hands.

The gas giant itself was a golden hue, probably from some other minor elements spread around within it. It was also hotter than normal, perfectly masking the ship's own heat signature while it cooled its heat sinks. A slight disadvantage was the magnetic field slightly messing with the instruments, meaning that their sensors might show a slight error or two every once in a while.

Which was what the crew was waiting for behind it. In order to recharge their plasma coils for the next jump, to vent heat from the sinks and to gather some extra fuel for their reactor, they had had to exit Slipspace right next to the planet. While all three tasks were proceeding accordingly, the crew was still tense. A sensor 'ghost' of a sort had appeared on the shipboard radar just after they'd settled into orbit.

The Captain could see a faint dot, silhouetting against the system's sun. Hegemon's sun was deep blue supergiant, one terrifyingly bright and big enough for the man to be able to see the black speck. He was about to ask for something until Representative Kal walked onto the bridge. The Captain turned to the man, gave a greeting nod and said, "Representative Zoris. I hope the Dextro breakfast we got you was good. Staff made sure we had the proper food as per indications from Quarian medical staff."

"Wonderful, in fact," Kal nodded, smiling, then paused as he saw the grim look on the faces of various crew. He asked, "Something the matter?" before the ONI captain beckoned him forward. Kal walked in a bound to the window and peered through it, exactly where the man's index pointed out the silhouette. He furrowed his brows, then breathed, the distortion audible through his Suit's rebreather speakers.

He spoke, "Do we have a specific sensor suite, or some cameras we can use to zoom in on it?"

"We have the probes nearby, sir," The sensor console officer reported before the captain could answer. He told the man, "They're masked by the sun itself, and they have high-fidelity cameras with high zoom. If the enemy hasn't spotted them, it means something's masking them, or they're small enough that their sensors aren't detecting them. EM scans from the ship reveal it's in a waiting pattern."

"Get me a view on it, front screen," The man ordered. The Quarian and Human then stepped back and looked up, gazing upon the images as per the probes' own encrypted signals. The selected probe was closest to the sun, showing slight heat warnings, but it had the zoom to see the target's lit side. It had the best view of it. The Captain ordered, "Zoom..." before watching the image resolve.

At first, it was blurry. Then, it slowly began to resolve and, with that, Kal seemed to freeze. Three prongs, a hull as black as night and visible guns and engine nacelles. The ship's engine exhaust glowed azure as it floated there, transmissions apparently still being picked up by the EWAR suite of the UNSC's specialist scout and electronic warfare and counter measures ship.

Noting the man's fright, the Captain asked, "Something wrong, Representative?"

Kal, breath hitching in his throat, replied, "That's a Batarian warship... A frigate..." which caused the entire bridge to grow ice-cold. The Captain gave several hand signals, before crew began giving the thumbs-up sign or forward nods of their heads to confirm that all systems were nominal. Before long, Kal felt that ever-familiar faint electric pulse prickle at his skin as the UNSC Prowler engaged its optical camouflage and other countermeasures.

The Captain then voiced, "Keep us steady and go to yellow alert. Bring us about heading 3-1-3 and prepare Slipspace solution. Keep monitoring comms to see if they spotted us..." before sighing as he heard the hum of the engines going at a third of the speed to maintain their camouflage. The yellow lights and subdued wail of the alarms of the ship filtered into the bridge.

As they kept tabs on the enemy ship, noting that it wasn't moving for the moment, the crew continued to check and re-check their systems. The Captain read out the diagnostics as Durandal appeared beside him, "Optical and active camouflage are working at 100%, speed is currently at 35% of standard, ECM is actively denying the enemy knowledge of our position and the Probes are repositioning to avoid detection. Heat sinks are also working up to parameters."

"Steady as she goes," Chuckled Durandal. She then told them, "I've brought up data on the Batarian ship and have entered their BattleNet. Seems like they're here for some sort of slave trade..." before pulling up several transcripts denoting some of the stuff the Batarians were talking about on ship net and on com with what was presumably another ship that was set to enter the system.

They seemed blatantly unaware of the UNSC ship currently on an exit vector from the system's stronger gravity well. The AI told Kal, "You guys did mention these bastards were Slavers, so it's nice to see that being confirmed. Normally, I'd comment about the possibility of dropping them a nice present, but considering we're still trying to reach and link with the Geth... Best not to try."

"Agreed," Kal sighed deeply, "No offense to your starship, Captain, but I'm not sure a stealth vessel would do well in combat against two Batarian vessels."

The Captain nodded, then leaned back into his seat and utilized his own displays to make sure they were moving away at best speed possible. The man sighed, then rubbed his eyes. Hours passed on the bridge by the time the ship made it to within an acceptable distance from the Star itself. As they entered Slipspace again, Kal hummed, then turned to ask, "Captain, I never... Got a briefing regarding the UNSC's purpose here. The League as a whole, I mean. I get you are refugees from your homeworld, but you must have some grander purpose. Reclaiming your homeworld?"

"That's one goal, yes," The Captain hummed, making sure they weren't being followed into Slipspace via help from sensors. He called out over the PA, "Stand down yellow alert and shunt power from weapons to the main drives..." then turned to Kal as his orders were followed. He told the Representative, "I'm honestly not surprised you don't know. Your Admiralty Board might've been the sole group of people briefed on this matter..."

"Nominally, yes. I've heard whispers through Cu-... Admiral Xen. But that's it," The man shrugged as he leaned against one of the free consoles. The Captain hummed and looked between his crewmates. All of them gave him a nod of approval each when he locked eyes with them, before turning back to their consoles. Kal suddenly felt the weight of the air on the bridge increase tenfold, metaphorically speaking.

He looked over to the Captain as he leaned back into his chair and, with Durandal, turned toward him. The Captain then spoke, "We found some ruins on New Arizona, the desert planet I'm sure you've heard in low-level communiques. Our research and development bases there have expanded in the past couple of decades, but it started out as us simply discovering an ancient ruin keeping that irradiated hellscape alive. That ancient ruin housed an alien VI that was... Many, many millennia older than most of the rest of the Galaxy."

"... Did you find Protheans?" The man blanked, "How-"

The Captain shook his head, "No. Not Protheans, though we've read up on them from your ships' data. The Concordat, as it's called, is far more ancient, perhaps even a few cycles pre-Prothean age..." which staggered Kal. Indeed, he thought, the UNSC staff present to greet them on board the envoy vessel hadn't brought this up during their early talks. And Kal had been kept rather strangely in the dark about things beyond their mission to speak with the Geth and realign them to their cause. Or, well, to ask for forgiveness from them, really.

"So, what is your other purpose, then...?" The man asked, wary.

"To defeat the things that killed both the Concordat and the Protheans, if at all possible," The Captain replied, staggering Kal. The UNSC officer continued, "The Reapers..." and pulled up a slight schematic. More-so a blurred photo of what looked like a sea crustacean of some kind. It looked nigh-mechanical, even in the blurry image he was seeing. He then remarked, "Records on these alien constructs note them as biomechanical in origin and hostile to all sentient life of a certain degree of technological advancement. Presumably, that being FTL capability."

"... Keelah..." The man felt his breath hitch in his throat, "Is that...?"

"Why we accepted you all in, despite the HPP's protests? Why we wanted to learn about the Galaxy at large through Quarian data? Why we want to gather more allies if possible, including the Geth? Yes," The Captain gave a nod, "The Galaxy at large needs to be prepared to face these creatures. It's a sort of vow the UNSC made when we first arrived here. No matter who it is, none will have to face an extinction event similar to our Great War."

"So... Why not go to the Citadel? Speak to them already?" Kal asked, "Why wait in the corners, make yourselves scarce?"

"I don't think many of us can trust the Citadel," Durandal replied, "Bad experience with alien hegemonies, remember?"

"To be fair, Durandal," The Captain hummed, "We haven't met them yet. We don't know how they operate. I'm not saying we'll join their little Council, or even the Citadel, but there's no need to discount them as a threat or hostile just yet..." before pulling up data on the Citadel that was beamed their way. He hummed and blinked, then sighed and said, "Com, beam back communique and images about the Batarian presence in HEGSYS. Priority One, Code Azure."

"Aye, sir," The man replied.

"Captain, need I ask you to read Section 23, Paragraph 14 of the report sent our way two days ago about the Citadel?" Inquired Durandal, "Not only do they allow the Batarian Hegemony to exist, they've got the Treaty of Farixen to uphold. And they apparently enforce it rather thoroughly..." before noting the confusion. She sighed and told him, "The Treaty of Farixen is a treaty that actively seems to limit the number of Dreadnoughts each fleet can have."

"Ah, yeah, Dreadnoughts..." The man hummed, "Those one-kilometer long designs we started building two years ago, right? What's our fleet at right now?"

"Four Dreadnoughts, sir, Titan-class" She replied, then looked over to a surprised Kal and stated, "You'll probably see'em in drydock above Nanshin if you ever visit, representative. Ingalls also started building four more in their drydocks, plus two carriers to supplement the Moscow, since she's rapidly approaching nearly 200 years of service here."

"Ah, the Old Girl," The Captain snorted, "Gotta love her. What about the few Phoenixes we refurbished recently, too?"

"They're set to re-enter service soon, too. The Moscow's lent her transport capabilities by ferrying them supplies, but the old girl's drives have to be replaced again, considering the new technological upgrades we're seeing with processing power. Should make her even more terrifying... Y'know, for a ship whose hull was nearly bleached by the sun at one point in her life," Durandal quipped rather metaphorically.

"She's still our sole supercarrier," The man replied, then checked on the other shipboard AIs that Durandal had decided to bring along for negotiations, noting they were all mostly 'asleep'. He continued, "Honestly, if ONI didn't pull me out of Ingalls Officer Training School to teach me how to use a Prowler, I might've gone on to be an officer aboard her."

"Heh. Nostalgia talking, but I getcha," Durandal shot back, smiling, "I sometimes miss her systems..."

Indeed, the UNSC Moscow had been a ship refurbished and retrofitted with new technology many times as it became available. She was also the current Pride of the Navy, a vessel with a fairly illustrious record in the Human-Covenant War. It was that conflict, almost two centuries ago, that gave the old girl her mystique. She was still the same old ship, just taught new tricks with laser cannons, plasma batteries and various other enhancements and additions.

Most of the ships in the Navy remained the ones they'd come upon this Galaxy with, including the troop transports which now launched forth a squadron of Pelicans, packed to the gills with infantry, to deploy to New Arizona's desert moon. MOPP, heavy rifles and a tasked operation to eliminate another Cultist cell nearby. Racking the bolt of her rifle, the captain of the team, one Jayne Rosemund, told her men, "Alright, listen up, Big Red Ones!" as she scratched her arm, noting the shield patch with the massive red '1' in the center. She told them, "This'll be our first op we run with the Quarian Marines! Check your lines of fire and make sure you show these Ayys what we can do, oorah?!"

"Oorah!" The men and women replied.

She nodded to them and donned her gas mask, which had an opaque black visor and shark's teeth drawn over the rebreather. Stepping forward, the XO of the First Marine Division, The Big Red One, entered the cockpit, watching the flames dancing over the heat-resistant glass and nose of the Pelican. Beside them, six more such craft bearing UNSC and Quarian troops angled to enter the Dark Side's atmosphere. She told the pilots, "Steady on the drop and prep to have the cargo 'Hogs and Saddlebacks deployed!"

As the heat of re-entry dissipated, the chill of the dark side desert hit, cooling and misted up the glass, forcing the pilots to rely on their HUDs. Jayne sat herself down and checked her own DMR and pistol, before hitting her helmet. The Aircraft spun on their vertical axes, engines powering to the maximum as dust and debris was kicked upward. The pods in the backs of the vehicles, extensions to the ships' cargo, propped open, dropping half-a-dozen Warthog FAVs and three Saddleback MRAPs onto the surface.

The Captain rallied her Squad Leads to her, then looked over to their Quarian friends, all of them clad in much more reinforced Enviro-Suits that were also armored almost to the degree of UNSC ones. She spoke to the leader of the Quarian platoon, "Your team takes the right, we take the left. The enemy compound's been mapped by ISR SATs, so let's see if they're as ONI says, or if these are the assholes from Vesta, then make'em pay, eh?"

"Oorah, Keelah se'lai," The man replied. The groups immediately mounted and started travelling via their vehicles, wheels crunching against the sand below as they advanced. The encampment was in view from the top of the first dune, a makeshift, ramshackle camp built in the middle of the desert, walls lined with lead and still-drying concrete paying testament to how fast it had been built.

Laying in the middle was a tarped-up shape. The Captain immediately made it out, though, calling out, "Be advised, decommissioned vessel dead ahead. Looks like a Gobi-class scout craft, unarmed. Be ready for anything, though..." as he climbed onto the turret and racked the bolt of his the fifty caliber MG. Beside him, the Warthog carrying the 40mm Gauss Cannon rolled faster, the gunner aiming for the wall.

The Captain gave a thumbs up and the gun flashed, the projectile leaving the barrel and slamming into the concrete, shattering it into shards and waking most of the Cultist encampment. Machine guns followed up, suppressing the forces of the enemy before they had a chance to pop out of cover and return fire. The Marines quickly dismounted, beginning their lightning advance under the cover of their vehicles.

A pair of Cultists and a leader appeared, the lead casting a biotic tremor of some kind that kicked up geysers of sand. The soldiers dodged out of the way, snapped their weapons toward their enemies and opened fire. The bullets forced the bastards back into cover as the tarp fell off the arrowhead-shaped transport. Other Cultists popped out and opened fire, only to get turned into mincemeat by fifties and the troops' own rifles.

"Keep pushing!" Jayne barked as she watched the Quarians move up to their right, some of them utilizing the vehicles for cover. They seemed to be adapting to the new UNSC weapons fairly well, considering some were using the old training MA5 and MA37 models that had become ubiquitous among the Police Forces of several colonies. Two Quarian soldiers pushed up, with one of them hefting an LMG up and opening fire.

Spent casings piled up on the sand, bullets pinning down the Cultists before they could return fire. Above, the Pelicans orbited, pilots and gunners calling out targets of opportunity. The platoons and their support vehicles advanced, reloads timed between each bound across the dunes, kinetic rounds striking flesh and weak armor, or outright stopping as the enemy pulled up Biotic barriers, only to then be blasted apart by a Gauss round.

Jayne advanced with her men and the Quarians, giving an approving nod to the surprisingly-professional three-fingered, big-footed aliens in environmental suits. She had wanted to ask why their Lieutenants would even risk working with the gang, but didn't have the time. She paused, however, when she saw a white flag raised from the ruins, a single bullet piercing the cloth dead center.

She radioed and bellowed, "CEASE FIRE! Second platoon, maintain Overwatch, third and fourth, with me and first!" as she hefted her rifle. She then barked at the Cultists, "TOSS YOUR GUNS AND COME OUT, YOU FUCKERS!" while aiming the weapon. First to come out of the fortification was a young woman, her hands raised and flag in hand. Behind her, the Cult's non-Biotic members tossed their weapons aside. Initiates with an Acolyte in the lead.

"Please, don't shoot..." The leader pleaded, hands up, "We only wanted to get out of here..."

The Captain gave a chop of her hand to a pair of more armored Marines, then advanced behind them in case of foul play. When she saw that the Cultists knelt, hands behind their heads, without much more fuss, she walked up to the leader and put a pair of Inhibitor Cuffs on her hands. She lifted her to her feet and started patting her down for weapons, only finding a ceremonial dagger she stowed in her pocket, before looking at the Cultist and asking, "Wanted to get out of here? That ship even have a Slipspace drive?"

"Yes. It was recently decommissioned and was headed for scrapping..." The woman replied, "The NA Boneyard was a bit surprised by us taking it, but we..."

"You wanted to ditch the League, then," Jayne hummed as her Lieutenants rallied around her. She lifted up a tablet and read out, "Khalida Touma, also known as Oasis... Chief Priestess of a recently-appeared moderate Sect of this little transhuman Cult of Biotics... And former member of their council," before setting it back into a pocket and stating, "Guessing V13 really rocked your view of your fellow comrades, eh?"

"That was part of the reason we wanted an out..." The leader replied, watching as the Marines began zip-tying and arresting the other members of this cell. She looked over to the Captain and told her, "Vesta was a mistake. Not only did it sap our people's ranks, but it resulted in the deaths of innocents, some of which we even knew personally. Our more 'active' Leaders, the Priesthood Council, vowed something worse than Vesta... They're too understrength to do anything major."

"And popular support's waning, too," Jayne shrugged, "So, why not take the few people you can and go make a home in some new, uninhabited system, eh?" Only for Khalida to give her a quick nod. Jayne snorted again, then said, "Look, we have programs reintegrating surrendering members of your cult, Khalida. Those we know weren't part of major operations like Vesta, or New Harmony, we're letting back in. Because we're all still human."

"Will the people want us back...?" Khalida replied, wary, "We've harmed them enough."

"I'd argue they will want you back, aye," She nodded, then gently set a hand on Khalida's shoulder, "Especially if you show yourself repentant. We've only, and I stress that word because those are still human lives, only had twenty-six dead on Vesta. New Harmony had us lose three civvies and a Police patrol car..." before humming and stating, "And ONI knows well enough that you and your group weren't part of it."

"They have tendrils everywhere," Chuckled Khalida, "I'm not surprised..."

"We still can't let you leave. Especially not with an asset as important as a Light Prowler that still has a working Slipspace Drive aboard," The Captain then added, dead serious, which somewhat surprised Khalida, but she nodded. She looked over to the Quarian Lieutenant and said, "Well done, by the way..." only to get a salute from them. Khalida gave a half-smile, to which the Captain added, "By the way... Can you confirm something for me? Did the HPP actually fund you guys?"

"... Some of the more extreme elements, yes..." She nodded, "I'd keep tabs on the Quarian sectors on various worlds. Far as I know? That's where the more extremist cult members will attempt their Hail Mary..." before looking at the few extremist members of this cell being treated rather roughly by the Marines. A couple of boys who still wanted to throw hands with the UNSC, as the saying went. She thought they'd been taught better.

"We'll keep that noted," The Captain smirked, "Thanks, Touma. Marines! Load'em up! Radio SHADE and tell them we have confirmation. Hotel Papa Papa assets seem to be funding the Cult. Check and triage the wounded for hospital deliveries and let's make sure we get home safe and sound. I wanna tell my Handler the whole HPP shit to her face, just so I can rub it in."