Two years later...

It had already been two years. The Exile Fleet had been away for well over two years, two years in which some technological progress had been made. Their ships were faster due to the Element Zero addition in their Slipspace Drives' fields via a specialized 'injection' device which has yet to receive a name, which allowed the ship to completely and utterly reduce their size, while the advanced Kinetic Barriers, another design from their dear Alien friends, lead to their ability to actually utilize Eezoo in FTL properly, without the ships tearing themselves apart due to the high forces of travelling through the strange, non-dimensional, physics-ignoring dimension that was Slipspace at such infinitesimally tiny weights.

Such was the case for one of the last few Colony Ships of the UNSC, heading for its intended planet. The Amerigo Vespucci flew toward the last of the Nineteen Colonies to have an outpost set up on it. It was also the last system discovered from within the Concordat's data vault. It seemed as though their ancient benefactors were advanced enough to be targeted by the Reapers, but not just enough to be able to set up more colonies.

The Amerigo's captain watched the winds of Slipspace weave and wrap around his ship. He held a pipe in-between his lips, taking a puff from it as he looked around at the bridge crew working away. He hummed, then sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. They were five minutes out from the exit, which meant he'd have to prepare to join the people on the planet below in deconstructing his old girl and adding the industrial capability of the ship to the colony itself.

He yawned, then said, "Brace for de-acceleration and prepare to deactivate Eezoo boosters..."

The entire bridge ran to and for, crew settling into their seats as the captain himself put on his seatbelt and leaned back into the comfortable leather chair. He blinked, feeling the vessel's growth in weight by the fact his hairs weren't standing on-end anymore as the electrified Eezoo field and Kinetic Barrier retracted. The ship winked back into realspace within three seconds, appearing just over the intended target.

Situated in the goldilocks zone of a blue giant star dubbed 'Kerry', the colony world of New Hanshin lay ahead. A planet resting at just about the size of Earth, though with a slightly richer Oxygen content in the atmosphere, it was a mountainous world with three major continents and few plains between the many mountain ranges. One of the biggest plains, nicknamed Nagoya, had been chosen for the Colony's main site.

A patrol fleet of four UNSC Frigates held position over the planet, all the while one of the sister ships of the Amerigo guided various scanning and mining drones across the small flotilla to the asteroid field around the system. The good captain hummed as he looked over the continents, then tapped a button on his chair and spoke, "This is bridge to Cryobays. prepare to awaken the population. Hangars, prepare transport ships. We will be entering low orbit as soon as all civilians aboard are evacuated to begin disassembly planetside.

The transfer to the planet was a process that'd take two days. Once there, the awakened population was met by the sight of the earliest of frontier outposts, a massive military FOB with various sleeping accommodations for them and their families. Many had family members serving aboard the UNSC fleet that had brought them here, so they had some priority as to where they'd be staying while their parents, siblings or spouses were out in orbit or around other stars.

In the dead of night, as curfew came into effect, if those still outside would look up, they would see the nineteen other stars around which their fellow survivors were residing. Hanshin was selected as a colony world because of the massive mineral supplies reported by the Concordat's Virtual Intelligences. It was set to be either the biggest provider of raw resources, the biggest supplier of otherwise-important parts, or perhaps even the mainline production and technology center of the 19 Colonies of the Exiled UNSC survivors.

Until such time as mankind could rise to reclaim its old home from the grips of the Covenant, the UNSC would fight, strive and rebuild until they were ready to return. That was, if they could. According to doctors, researching the anomaly that had brought them here was going to be a monumental task for the science crews. One that would take many generations and the collated data from all ships in the fleet.

They would rebuild. They would be back. Humanity would finish the bloody Reapers off and then go home to clear the enemy out of their lands once more. So thought many of the civilians planetside. The disassembly of the Amerigo had begun within the third week of their arrival by the planet. The Industrial District of the settlement soon took form in the farthest northern section of the valley, very close to the mountains, as more and more of the ship was torn apart.

The most important matter was securing the shipboard Slipspace Drive, which had been shut down through a tedious procedure, alongside the reactor aboard, which would power much of the early settlement and the homes of the one million colonists that would be living on this planet. A boy watched from his home as the ship that had carried them here was slowly torn down to its skeletal frame, then to nothingness, over the span of week.

Quietly, he, much like every other survivor, wondered how humanity fared even two years later. Back at home. Had they succeeded? Had they squeezed out a win from the jaws of defeat? Or had mankind drawn its last breath on Earth for now? Would they be able to even retake Earth when they got home? Would they be able to do anything, really, that would help? Or would they just be seeking vengeance for the dead?

Orbit above Ingalls

Minor orbital works had been started over the world of Ingalls, a Volcanic world wherein most of the raw Titanium Alloys for the fleet's ships, both for repairs and construction, would be coming from. The world itself sat in the same system as another mainline Colony where the local population would be living, namely New Washington. Ingalls itself was a small world, half the size of the Earth, but with so many rivers of ore-rich Lava that the UNSC's Orbital Works could easily pump out the necessary alloys for the hulls of new vessels once everything got to work.

The Orbital Works themselves consisted of a single Anchor-class station and the skeletons of dry-docks and fuel, mining, refining and material acquisition points for the station itself. For the time being, this planet would serve as one of the repair points for the UNSC Exile fleet, as well as a refitting station when the supplies started flowing to them. Visible outside were civilian contractors working to bring the stations to working order. Clad in EVA Space Suits, aided by floating drones that welded and held plates and did just about everything they did, the human workers braved the Void to make sure humanity had a place to rebuild its naval might.

Some of the men stared grimly at the work ahead from the tugs that were launched from the Anchor Station. Others worked without so much as a peep, well aware that they'd need to make this shipyard flourish in the next ten years at the very least if they hoped to so much as bring new Frigates into battle against any foe they might meet in this new place.

One crewman shifted his weight and jumped toward another rig, his safety line going taut as he barely reached the intended spot on one of the massive ribcage-like constructions. He grunted as he stopped utilizing his suit's thrusters, before pulling a panel off the back of his suit and looking at one of the exposed power grid fuse boxes. He started working on it, putting the new 'door' on.

Meanwhile, next to him, a pair of drones buzzed by, carrying supplies from another UNSC Phoenix-class vessel toward the edge, to what seemed to be the skeletal frame of an early Space Elevator that linked to the Anchor Station and all of its facilities. A tug drone carried over a medical kit for an injured member of staff. His suit had damn-near ruptured and he had to have his shoulder re-set.

UNSC Military personnel aboard the Anchor Station also helped with finishing touches to the insides. Welding panels, making sure wiring was properly arranged and ensuring the safeties were all active was paramount for the station's continued orbital operations. A Navy staff member marched between them, wearing a hardhat and checking the construction work with a tablet, various measurement tools and his mark I eyeballs. He checked to the inch every part of the building, like many of his comrades, both male and female.

Hammers clanged in unison and welding tools buzzed and screeched. Crew cut, moved, dropped and installed pieces of metal, hardware and even software from computer to computer. A rhythm of work, the song of industry, played across the orbit of Ingalls. The planet itself burned and spewed molten metals onto its surface, a gift to them that they would make full use of, thanks to the Concordat.

In another part of the system, mining drones began the arduous work of collecting the necessary materials from the Kuiper Belt. Ice asteroids were mined to chunks, melted and used as coolant, water for irrigation, hydroponics provisions, whatever the base would need. Asteroids that contained vital ores like gold, platinum and other such metals would be strip-mined on the spot by the drones, the materials brought over for processing alongside the mainline military ores.

Every civvie contractor knew that this was now a military operation, through and through. They'd be building the future, no matter if it took ten, years, a hundred or a thousand. They'd return home to undo the damage done and they'd burn the enemy down before they so much as they got a chance to sneeze wrong at them. That seemed to be the most common feeling among the survivors.

A Marine officer that was on the station tended to security. He shifted uneasily, arranging his armor and keeping close his Magnum. Some of the people were probably not very happy about them ditching Earth, even now, when he'd expect the civilian populace to understand. The Admiral had not said as much as a peep to a lot of the newly-awakened civilians. Some of the vets knew what to expect, to some degree, but the Admiral had still been eerily quiet.

He and his clique of officers were gonna be commanding this nascent star nation on its path to either victory or destruction. That so many of them had agreed the Exiles would first need a strong economic base meant they knew that a people would feel most safe when defended by a strong military. And what was their nascent force but an Army with a Nation at this point?

It'd be a while before the station would reach full production capabilities. In the meanwhile, the UNSC Fleet's many pickets would continue patrols and supply runs between Ingalls and New Washington, not to mention patrols in their sector of space. Prowlers would also continuously explore various systems around their 19 Stars, all while the Admiralty was figuring out how to reveal to the world that mankind was dealing with another existential threat, but that, this time, they had the time to prepare for the evil. The good Doctor was also preparing her own theories and speculations...

New Reach system. 10 years later.

The whirlpool of Slipspace dissipated, the speckled void of outer space appearing in front of Doctor Grayson. She thumbed her tablet as she and the Prowler she had comandeered to scout out the premises of New Reach, what would be called the Last System. She hummed softly, arranging her labcoat as she surveyed the ten-planet system. The most distant of the planets, not the central world, was the target. She pushed the grey hair out of her eyes and looked down at her tablet.

She had been working on the best of the Concordat's tech for the better part of the last ten years. They'd gotten some new agricultural capabilities, meaning an ability to feed a growing population the moment they finished setting up the planet of New Harvest, the last world colonized after New Reach itself and their Agricultural Center. They'd also managed to discover a type of cloning technology, which was useful for cloning various cattle animals.

She hummed, thumbed her tablet and said, "This must be the last place the Concordat's secrets hold... Proceed..."

The scout vessel's engines roared in the void, inaudible, as the craft gently shook. It pushed forward, toward the last planet in the system, a small, Pluto-like planetoid. They flew past a gas giant that contained the exact gas mixtures they needed to fuel their Fusion engines and their reactors. There was infrastructure already being constructed over the massive thing, visible from the distance between the ship and the planet.

She sighed, then allowed herself a smile, "Thank God..."

Humanity was slowly rebuilding its strength. They'd started a lot of infrastructure projects in a short amount of time, but with nineteen, nearly twenty million people, they could afford to build up, considering anyone who could wield a tool was given one. To put it bluntly, she was thankful that mankind was able to find some peace and time in the intervening years since their arrival to rebuild.

She knew the Admiral, god help him, was finally ready to talk to the Population at large, now that they were settled in, about the semi-imminent arrival of the Reapers. As per calculations based on the cycles observed by the Concordat's people, the next Cycle would happen in roughly one-hundred-ninety to two hundred years. She would not be alive to witness it and nor would many of their kids, but that was just how life was.

Her hair had greyed out due to the stress she was putting herself through for the sake of helping develop the last of their deterrence. Hanshin had become her new base of operations, with most of the artefacts and tech of Concordat origin ever recovered focused on that planet and that planet alone. Technologically, the 10 years of study had brought Mankind up to a degree just slightly above their old selves technologically.

They still needed a massive manufacture base to be able to put the new technological advances to good use, though a lot of their older vessels had been retrofitted with the necessary Element Zero-based technology to function like the others. The Slipspace boost they'd received with the Eezoo tech had pretty much quartered their travel time between the Nineteen Systems.

There were, however, mentions of far more important items. It seemed as though this Galaxy had a linked system of 'galactic highways', so to speak. A 'roadway' made up of what the Concordat had called the Relays. Utilizing Element Zero to pretty much slingshot a ship toward the next system with a Relay, these specialized Gateways would allow almost instantaneous travel between the systems.

The Concordat also believed that these Relays had been constructed long ago, to force all species in the Galaxy onto a developmental path relating to them and Element Zero. The good Doctor and their AIs had speculated, alongside the rest of the Scientific Community, that the Reapers created the Relays to be able to proceed with their Cycle. Even if that was true, it never did answer why the Cycles were even happening, a hot topic of debate now in the nascent Scientific Community of the UNSC Exiles.

She hummed as the voidcraft approached the planetoid, beginning to slow down as the sensor suite started its scan, searching specifically for Element Zero. And, before long, the Good Doctor heard the first ping. She paused, looked over to the holographic display in the center and leaned toward it, tapping a few commands into the holographic keyboard. She shifted her gaze to the window and watched it appear from behind the planetoid.

Two prongs linked at the rear, one shorter than the other, lined with antennae and lights and as big as a capital ship in size, there it was. In the middle were two spinning magnetic 'crowns' containing the power of an Element Zero core that shined a burning azure. She looked at the device as the ship slowly came to a halt in front of it. She quickly tapped the communication system and rang up the Admiral. Before the man had a chance to speak, she called out, "We've found it! Sir, we have discovered a Mass Relay!"

Little else needed to be said, it seemed. The old man frowned, then nodded to the Doctor and thumbed his own tablet, ringing up his Officer Clique for the discussions ahead. He ordered, his voice somewhat weak, "Doctor Grayson. You have my full Permission to examine the Relay and send all data to our research centers for processing. Send me a ping once you've found out what is going on... We'll be in touch."

"Yessir!" She saluted, then cut the com and barked orders to her subordinates without so much as a second thought, "You heard the man! Pack research equipment and get me my god-damned security team! We've got alien archeotech to examine!" her giddiness getting the better of her. There was much to do, much to learn, if these relays truly worked the way the Concordat had described.