History Made

By: Dirty Reid

A.N.: Really, people? No one got the Portal references? Portal drive? The fighter named Chell? Barely anyone got the Deus Ex: Human Revolution references either (PEDOT Array, mechanical augmentation). And the Ishimura was straight out of Dead Space. Ah well, not everyone's got the same game tastes as I do. Enjoy the next part!

Chapter 2: Frogs and Man o' Wars

January 1, 2200, 0354 hours (Earth-time)

Prowler-class Corvette HSV Ride the Lightning

Deep space, between Sol and Alpha Centauri

"All reports are green across the board, captain." Truman, the ship's AI reported. Truman modeled himself after ex-U.S. president Henry Truman in name, voice and appearance.

"Excellent," Lieutenant-Commander Jackson Kingry responded. As the son of Director Felix Kingry, Jackson- or Jack, as he preferred being called- knew he had to do something spectacular if he wanted to be as famous as his father. When that man happened to be the one to propose the action that led to their current state of affairs and designed every warship in the Human Armada, you were looking at a tall order. Felix had said to his son that he never had to try and outshine his father, he would be loved just the same. Jackson said he knew, but still vowed to make his mark on history. He was well on his way after enlisting in the Armada Navy the day after he turned eighteen. It had taken far more blood, sweat, tears, cunning and favours than any one man or woman should have to give, but here he was, commanding a ship at thirty Earth-years old. When his well-aged father (Thanks to modern medicine, humans could continue to be fertile into their seventies, and live upwards of 130 years. Felix and his wife Elise had conceived Jackson in their late sixties) had heard of his promotion, the first thing he did was salute and tell his son how incredibly proud he was. Jackson was one of the younger officers in the Jones-Seropian Fleet, and though he commanded one of the Armada's more important vessels, he had yet to earn the respect of most of his peers.

The Prowler was not classified as important because it could outrun an A-wing or a TIE Interceptor; nor did it carry enough standard firepower to go toe-to-toe with one of the new Imperial II-class Star Destroyers. While swift, it was not the swiftest, and it's only two mainline weapons were a pair of ventral and dorsal surface Beijing dual turbolasers.

The Ride the Lightning's purpose was stealth and recon. As such, the small ship was fixed with multiple types of evasive technology. The ship's primary defense was Truman, whose purpose was to infiltrate enemy scanning electronics and fill them with just enough garbage data to keep the ship from being detected via deep scans or intercepted radio transmissions. Its second layer of defense was (redundant, in Kingry's opinion) its matte black ceramic stealth coating with Chameleon Texture Buffers. The armour itself made the ship hard to see in the emptiness of space. The texture buffers allowed the armour to act as an 'adaptive mirror'. Through use of multiple cameras that updated in real time and fed to a processor attached to each piece of armour, the texture buffers were able to change the colour of the armour to a limited degree. The final layer of defense was the latest in innovations from the privately owned Goyo Corporation; the Predator Active Camouflage system. When activated, dozens of induction wires criss-crossing the Prowler's hull would begin to emit fixed-focus electromagnetic fields that adjusted the frequency of the constant bombardment of radiation from thousands of stars. The end result was the light hitting the Prowler being bent away, rendering it invisible to all but the most observant eyes. The cloaking device could only be activated for ninety minutes or less, thanks to its incredible power draw. Any longer, and systems would start shutting down to power the cloak.

In a straight up fight, the Prowler's shields were strong enough to survive a meager bombardment equivalent to fifty kilotons of TNT. Its turbolasers packed an average punch of 3 megawatts; sixty percent of the most powerful turbolasers in the Armada. Where the Prowler's strength truly laid was with its trapping weapons. A single Prowler carried a payload of fourteen HORNET mines, plutonium-cored proximity nukes with a yield of ten megatons. Their second armament was a payload of six PINCH missiles. The PINCH, explained simply, was an extremely fast, super-powered Ion torpedo designed to drop shields and overload broadband electrical circuitry within a fifty kilometer radius in atmosphere. In space, the range was almost doubled, but less effective as the blast expanded. Any ships caught in the blast of a PINCH missile would be rendered dead or crippled in space, waiting to be picked apart by fighters, melted by turbolasers or blown into scrap by a MAC slug. Excellent for performing a pincer strategy; get a Prowler behind the enemy cluster, launch a PINCH payload to disable the ships and watch all the pretty explosions.

"Better get going. Truman, hail the other ships." Kingry ordered.

"Done," the AI answered. Kingry leaned forward.

"All ships, report in." He ordered. Some grumbling had been involved, but Admiral Grissom was having no one else but the wily Kingry command the recon mission.

"HSV La Grange standing by." Captain Victor Juarez, commander of the other Prowler stated.

"HSV Harare reporting in." Captain Rio Yamasaki of the medical Nebulon frigate chirped. Kingry had always thought that the Nebulons looked strange. With their engine block and vertical ovoid body connected by a thin spar, the frigate could be easily snapped in half. His father, though wanting to keep the ships visually the same as their fictional counterparts, had shortened and widened the spar, and all medical frigates had a secondary shield generator that specifically protected the vulnerable area.

"HSV Intrepid prepped an' ready." Commander Saoirse McCrae added, her thick Irish accent obvious even through the comm. The Miranda-class Roddenberry light cruiser was visible through the Prowler's forward viewport. Kingry's father had increased the scale of the ship from its original 230 metres to 345 metres. Its circular body had a superstructure attached to the engine nacelles which stuck out downwards from the aft hull. The hexagonal 'roll bar' housed the broadside Beijing dual turbolaser batteries, as well as the forward and rear-facing Ion torpedo launchers. The forward halves of the nacelles housed two Roddenberry Fleet-specific proton torpedo launchers. They were used to give the fleet's 'glass cannon' style vessels an extra bit of firepower in capital ship engagements.

"HSV Kerrigan all set." Captain Dennis O'Halloran barked, brusque as ever. Kingry always thought of him as a hard and unyielding man, much like the ship he commanded: Not huge, but a tremendous force, as was standard feature in the slugging match-oriented Blizzard Fleet.

"HSV Back in Black reporting." Captain Gaetano Gigliotti, ex-fighter pilot, now commander of one of the nimble Blockade Runners chimed.

"HSV Tumbling Dice here." LC William Perry sighed, sounding bored.

"HSV Running on Empty set." Commander Anka Brahms recited crisply.

"HSV Stairway to Heaven ready to rock." Captain Jonathan Cavendish growled.

"HSV Born to Run raring to go." Captain Conrad van Bynen replied, the smile evident in the sound of his smooth voice.

"HSV Ring of Fire locked and loaded." Commander Nicolas Strano finished.

"Good. Ladies and gentlemen, today we stand before the next frontier in humanity's quest. Today, we depart our territory for parts unknown; to boldly go where no man has gone before.

"I will not lie to you ladies and gentlemen; we are going in to this mission blind. We don't know what hides beyond this relay. We might be lucky and find a Goldilocks world just sitting there, waiting for us with a big red ribbon tied around it." A quiet snort came through the multi-ship connection. Most likely van Bynen. "On the other hand, this Relay might be some sort of sick trap laid by the Protheans that launches us into a black hole. Or, second worse case, we run into hostile xenos and get blown into space dust."

"You're not filling me vith confidence, kommandant." Brahms deadpanned.

"Just being realistic, Commander Brahms." Kingry shot back. "But, if we do run into the big bad aliens, we are not going to run. And even if we fall, we will fall with a gun in our hands and surrounded by the corpses of the freaks who dared to challenge us!" Kingry's voice rose as he ended his exclamation. The bridge crew had stopped to watch him.

"Humans have tried to destroy each other almost a dozen times over, and have only been stopped because we are too damn stubborn to die! No aliens are going to do to us what we can't! And if they try, they will certainly fail! And after they fail, they will quake in fear as we, the human race, cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war! Who's with me?!" His voice had risen from speech-level to a roar. Ten additional cries of affirmation and shouts from around the ships in the exploratory flotilla. Once the yelling and chest-pounding died down, Kingry addressed the ships again.

"Let's do this! La Grange, on me. We're going first. The rest of you wait here. If we don't report back in one hour, you go through to back us up. Clear?" Nine affirmations answered him. "Good. Stottzman, take us in!" He ordered the pilot.

"Yes sir!" and the Prowler started to crawl forward. The Mass Relay, already taking up most of the forward viewport, grew even larger. At fifteen kilometers in length, the Ride the Lightning was an ant in comparison. It made even the colossal carriers and Planet-Crackers look small.

"Coming up on the Relay. Transit in twenty seconds." Stottzman announced. Kingry nodded.

"Drop the shields, just in case." He ordered. Truman answered via a small flicker of his command console as the green-coloured lattice that made the Prowler's three-dimensional image transitioned to white.

"La Grange here, shields dropped. Hitting the Relay in six… five… four…" Juarez started counting down.

"If this is it men, it's been an honour!" Kingry exclaimed in one breath as a blue tendril of electricity jumped from the gyroscopic rings and glowing core to the Prowlers.

"LC, I'm reading gravity distortions throughout the shiiiiiip!" Truman shouted just as the Prowlers blasted forward, the incredible speed at which they traveled overwhelming the inertial dampeners. Why the AI felt the lurch or the need to modify his speech patterns to simulate such, Kingry would never know.

The incredible speed lasted only a few seconds. As they slowed, the crew was pitched forward. Those off balance fell down. Those already down slid forward and banged into various parts of the ship.

"R-report!" Kingry groaned. He had banged his head against the base of the command console. That was going to leave a nice goose egg later.

"Ship's a little shaken, but nothing's damaged." Truman reappeared at his holo station.

"Antimatter containment fields?" Kingry prompted worriedly. If that barrier went down, the imminent mixing of antimatter with matter would, for lack of a better term, delete the ship.

"Holding at 100%. We're safe, sir." Truman assured. "Just to be safe, I'm initiating a hard restart of our systems… now." All of the lights and consoles on the bridge flickered erratically for a few seconds before returning to their full brightness. "Scanning… all systems running at optimal capacity. Might be a little knocked out of place, but I can confirm no damage has been done."

"La Grange? Report!" Kingry ordered. A second of silence followed.

"Lightning, we're here! A little banged up, but we're good!" Juarez answered.

"Good to hear. Raise shields and engage stealth systems, we made a lot of noise coming through." Kingry remarked as he began to input commands into his console. Five seconds passed before the trademark white sheen of the Prowler's deflector shields raising clouded the forward viewport for the blink of an eye. The green wire frame faded to a pale blue, indicating the stealth systems' successful activation.

"Now that we're dark, start scanning. I want to know where we are." Kingry ordered. As Truman's hologram faded, indicating a reallocation of processing power, the commander sat back into the uncomfortable titanium slab he was supposed to call a chair. Almost a whole minute passed before Truman reappeared on his holo-pedestal.

"LC, you're not gonna believe this." He said slowly. "I just calculated the strength of the radiation hitting us, and cross-referenced the visible stars around us with our star charts, and it says we're here." The holo of the Prowler disappeared, replaced by a map of the Milky Way. A red dot with the letter A flashed over the Sol system, near the 'bottom' of the galaxy. A thin line started to stretch up and right, growing slowly closer to the galactic core. It eventually stopped just inside the innermost arm on the 'right' of the core, and another dot with a B flashed. Kingry couldn't help but let his mouth fall open.

"That's- we've-" He started to sputter.

"We were catapulted almost a third of the way across the galaxy." Truman spoke for the young commander. Kingry finally regained his voice.

"Juarez, are you getting this?" He asked.

"Si, LC, and you're not going to believe this either." His co-commander in recon began. "Selene just finished her scan of this star system, and she found a planet that, given the mass of this star and the planet's distance, fits within the Goldilocks zone!" He exclaimed.

"Have Selene send the data." Kingry requested, referring to the La Grange's AI.

"Already done, LC." The 'female' AI cooed softly. The galaxy zoomed in onto point B, illustrating a pale yellow star with four planets, the Mass Relay, and two green arrows representing the Prowlers. One of the planets on the opposite side of the star was pulsing white.

"Thanks, Selene." Kingry began. "But we need to get back to the rest of the squad, tell them we're okay. Once more back through the breach!"

Truman, while inclined to correct him, laughed at the butchering of the phrase.

Twelve hours later, the eleven ships had gathered in a loose cluster over the moderately more arid Goldilocks world. The Intrepid's scans of the atmosphere, probe-obtained samples from the biosphere and hydrosphere revealed comforting information: The air was breathable, the food was edible, and the water was neither acidic nor basic. In short, the world was perfect.

An interesting anecdote that was attached to the indigenous species file, however, was an anomaly in the local flora and fauna. Further analysis revealed that the amino-acid chirality of a few of the plants and animals was reversed. An interesting, if hazardous surprise.

"So," Cavendish drawled. Kingry could almost see the middle-aged man lounging back in his chair. "Any idea what we should call this planet?"

It was such a simple question. Yet it was a small breath of fresh air for Kingry, who had been firing on all eight cylinders since the start of the mission.

"Léaslíne," McCrae said. Kingry blinked along with the other captains.

"I'm sorry, what?" Perry asked, nonplussed.

"Means 'Horizon'." The Irishwoman clarified. "I said it 'cause it'll be a new day for our people movin' here. And, well, look." She must have meant the planet. As Kingry turned his head back to the planet, McCrae's reasoning behind the name became abundantly clear:

A small sliver of the star that illuminated the system was peeking out from the right side of the planet, not unlike an actual sunrise… just sideways.

"I think that's a great name." He concurred.

Six Earth-months later

Excelsior-class Cruiser HSV Pathfinder

Geosynchronous orbit above Horizon, Iera system

The colonization of Horizon (The Colonizing Committee, a branch of the Human Armada, had approved Commander McCrae's suggestion) was going smoothly. After the explorers had reported their find to the Armada, the carriers HSV Ceres and Gefjon had loaded up prefabricated housing units, food reserves, other building materials, and of course, colonists. The two behemoths boasted a grand total of twenty thousand civilians. Unfortunately, the two carriers had to remove a great deal of their military ordnance, vehicles and personnel in order to perform as colony ships. This lack of armament left them more vulnerable, and as such, the more paranoid parts of the Armada's council had assigned a defensive fleet to guard the still formidable carriers as they set the colony up. This fleet was composed of ten Blockade Runners, four Prowlers, four Charon-class frigates, the Excelsior and the Akira-class cruisers of the Roddenberry Fleet, two medical Nebulon frigates, two Leviathan-class Battlecruisers and two Halcyon-class Cruisers. Without utilizing the Mass Relay, the Horizon defensive fleet had taken three months to cross from the edge of the Sol system to the exact location of the Iera Relay in deep space. Even though every ship had utilized cryogenic stasis on its crew for the trip, that was considered a fast transit.

Even before the switch to the APD, the Armada Engineering Corps had been looking at ways to make transit faster. The first cold fusion Portal Drive (CFPD) had been ridiculously inefficient. By brutally ripping a hole in the dimensional fabric, it churned up a lot of 'debris' which increased the ship's 'drag' and slowed it immensely. The maximum speed ever obtained by a CFPD ship was 2.1601 light-years per day. The first APD ship, operating on the same principles as a CFPD, could attain a maximum speed of 7.0325 light-years per day simply because of its much greater power output. And over the years, the engineers began to design drives that, instead of brute force, carefully slit the dimensional barrier. This method, after extensive testing, revealed an astounding fact: The debris from entering portalspace (As it was colloquially called), when removed, increased transit speed exponentially. Currently, APDs could send their ship screaming through the cosmos at a staggering 300 light-years per day.

From his swiveling chair aboard the bridge of the Pathfinder, Captain Steven Hackett lazily watched the Ceres and Gefjon as dozens of D77H-TC Pelican dropships, D96-TCE Albatross heavy dropships and D64-IC Pod transport craft spewed from them to ferry colonists and colony supplies to the surface of Horizon. Additional Pelicans buzzed about the Halcyon cruisers Attila and Julius Caesar. From the Battlecruisers Arthas and Mengsk flew the twelve AV-T Dropships, carrying prefab supplies unable to fit aboard the carriers or cruisers.

Watching ships was interesting, but after several hours of incessant repetition, Hackett was growing bored. His mind idly wandered to Felix Kingry, the venerable Director of Engineering and his long time friend. Kingry had taught Hackett a few things about a ship when the captain was just a crewman running comms aboard the Ares Shipyards. Hackett knew enough about a ship's inner workings that he could fix a broken coolant system or troubleshoot a scanner, but he would still be laughed out of the room by an engineer if he were to offer in-depth assistance with his current level of knowledge. That is, if they were bold enough to laugh at his face.

But Hackett valued Kingry even more for the same reason the Director was referred to as 'The Shadowmaster'; and that reason was because not even secrets kept in the darkest of shadows were beyond Kingry's reach. Hackett suspected that Kingry employed hundreds, if not thousands of agents who sweet-talked, hacked, blackmailed, traded or extorted people out of their secrets, but had never pursued the subject. Why? Because for some reason, Kingry had developed an interest in him. Enough of an interest that he passed down cleverly hidden information to a man who amounted to a shipyard grunt, and got him into the fast lanes leading to becoming an officer. After four years and a smattering of Kingry's crumbs, Hackett was promoted to NCO. And after seven, he became a second lieutenant. Now, ten years on, he had been part of the captaincy for a year, and he strongly suspected that he owed a great deal of success to Felix Kingry, pulling the strings of bureaucrats and military men alike from the shadows.

It was no secret that Kingry hoarded the secrets of the Armada, even the classified ones, but no one ever succeeded in stopping him. His activities were tolerated because regardless of them, he made sure operations ran smoothly. Even before he became the Director, his secret-mongering had managed to uncover two plots by rebellious civilians, one of which would have resulted in the loss of at least one Leviathan-class Battlecruiser. While nothing linked him to the uncovering of the plots, every soldier that was able to command 'knew' that wily old Felix Kingry, from his shadowed office, was responsible.

Kingry's latest whisper into Hackett's ear was more worrying than useful. Ensign Hannah Shepard had managed to escape the Nebulon frigate Canberra and return to duty aboard the Pathfinder, despite having a child barely eighteen months previously. To make matters even worse, she had brought the child with her! Whatever logic that woman followed was beyond the captain, thinking it was a good idea to bring a toddler onto a ship that could be just as dangerous as it was safe. He had yet to say or do anything after following Kingry's clue, but his rumination spurred him into action.

"Mr. Roth, you have the conn." Hackett stated as he rose from his chair. He heard a "Yes, sir!" as he entered the elevator in the aft portion of the bridge. He descended five floors and began the trek towards the bow of the Pathfinder, more specifically, the junior officer's quarters where he knew Shepard was sequestered. All through the stark white halls, crewmen and women in Star Trek-accurate wear stopped to snap to attention as he passed. What was not accurate to Star Trek was the nanocrystal bodysuit each crew member wore under their uniforms. Based on early 21st century 'smart' shock absorbers found in building foundations or car suspension, the nanocrystal suit was an updated variant following similar principles. It reacted by condensing in areas where a projectile disturbed the small sensor field emitted by a dumb AI monitoring system, hardening the suit. Steiner-Bisley Technologies guaranteed that the suit would provide extended protection from most sidearm weapons. However, its effectiveness became limited when the suit had to protect against burst or automatic fire. It was little more than extra padding when faced with a shotgun, sniper rifle or heavy ordnance.

As he reached the end of his journey, Hackett wondered just what he would say to the ensign. As the door opened and he looked into the room, any argument he might have come up with went straight out the airlock.

Hannah Shepard sat on her bed, staring down into the pudgy little face of her… son, if Hackett observed correctly. The boy had a little tuft of black hair, made darker looking by his pale skin. Hackett could not get a good look at his eyes, as he was whipping his head about to avoid eating the spoonful of carrots his mother was trying to feed him.

"Mommy, don' wanna!" The little Shepard whined as the carrots brushed his cheek.

"Carrots are good for you, Sterling." Hannah cooed softly. Hackett raised one of his light brown eyebrows. Sterling? Interesting, if old-fashioned. "They make you see better and get taller." She added. Sterling still avoided eating them.

"They make you smart, like me." Hackett said quietly. Hannah squeaked in shock, having not heard the door open silently. She developed a surprised expression when she saw just who was standing in her door. As quickly as she could, she set Sterling, the spoon and the bowl of carrots down before standing at attention and snapping off a salute. Hackett returned it, though his expression remained neutral.

"At ease, ensign." She dropped her salute but remained at attention. Sterling watched curiously. "Now, would you mind telling me why you're back on the Pathfinder when you should be planetside and raising your son? Or back on the Canberra at the very least?" His voice remained even, but he saw the younger woman shrink against his gaze.

"Please sir, I'm perfectly able to keep control of Sterling. He knows that I have a lot to do, and he knows not to bother people. Maternity leave pay won't leave me enough money to provide for the both of us! I thought you were okay with this, sir?" She half stated, half asked.

Hackett was aware of Hannah's plight. She came from an incredibly impoverished family. Ship scuttlebutt said that her entire clan had used their collective funds to move to Eden, hoping for a fresh start. When their fortune was found to be lacking, the teenaged Shepard had faked her files and enlisted in the Armada Navy while underage. While her success was not quite as comparable to that of Hackett's, it was still something to be respected; junior officer eight years into service. And just when she got a good-paying position, an unplanned pregnancy threatened her fragile financial stability. Hackett felt for his ensign, he really did. If they were still part of the Olympus defense fleet, he likely wouldn't have ordered her onto maternity leave. But as they were guarding Horizon against any possible threat, and they had little in the way of concrete defenses (ODPs or GAASCs), he couldn't risk having her being distracted by an errant child. Speaking of which...

"I don't recall telling you that you were cleared to return to service, Shepard. Especially with your son." He answered carefully. Hannah looked confused.

"But sir, I have your order right here." She stated, picking up a tablet on her bed, tapping it a few times and handing it to him. Looking down the short email, Hackett's eyes narrowed as he read the order he apparently sent her, detailing her return to active service if she could keep control of her son. One of his eyebrows went up as he saw his electronic signature, written exactly as he would.

"Ensign," he began slowly "when did you get this order?"

"Mommy? Who dis?" Little Sterling asked. Hannah turned to see her son standing unsteadily on the bed.

"This is Captain Hackett, Sterling. He's mommy's boss." She said as she picked him up and set him on the floor before he fell down on the bed. Sterling looked up at Hackett, letting the captain finally see the child's startlingly bluish-purple eyes.

"Capan Hackett!" Sterling hooted. "Hi!" He raised a pudgy arm and waved. And despite the seriousness of the situation, Hackett felt a smile creeping onto his face.

"Hi, Sterling." He said with a return wave. "You're a friendly one, aren't you?" He asked as he kneeled down, getting as close to the little Shepard's eye level. The toddler looked at him curiously.

"You fly da ship?" He asked. Hackett snickered at the innocent question.

"Yes I do, little man." He answered. Flicking his eyes to Hannah, who was watching closely, he got an idea. "Do you want to fly a ship when you get big?" He asked. Sterling's eyes lit up.

"Yeah!" He shouted. "Can I? Can I? Can I? Pwease?" He pleaded, even going so far as to stick his lower lip out. Hackett actually laughed.

"Only if you eat your vegetables and listen to your mommy. Okay?" He asked with a pointed glance. Sterling pouted and crossed his little arms.

"'Kay," he muttered. Then, to the surprise of Hannah, he gasped the jar of carrot bits and started to gobble them down. Before he started to laugh, Hackett returned his attention to Hannah.

"Ensign, again, when did you get this order?" He repeated. Hannah was unflinching.

"Seven Horizon-days ago, 1301 hours." Hannah recited (A.N.: 1 Horizon-day = Approx. 38 Earth hours (rounded up). Hackett quickly went over the math in his head. The conclusion he reached was somewhat confusing.

"Ensign, that was eleven Earth-days ago. I wasn't assigned to this system until seven days ago when I was ordered to bolster the colony defense." He said. His sudden reassignment was the only reason he was permitted to use the Mass Relay; the Armada Council strongly discouraged their use, citing that the Protheans- if they were still out there- could probably tell when another race used their devices. Hannah blinked.

"When you put it that way..." She murmured to herself. She blinked again and turned back to her CO. "Actually sir, who gave you the order to bolster Horizon's defense?" She asked uncertainly.

Whatever Hackett was about to say got cut off when his earpiece started beeping. "Hold that thought." He said as he received the call. "Hackett here."

"Sir, we need you on the bridge, the Ride the Lightning just started reporting energy spikes from the Relay." Roth stated. Hackett felt his heart rate start to climb as the implications of Roth's statement... No, no, he was just being paranoid!

"Are there any other ships that are supposed to be coming here?" He asked. Part of him already knew the answer, but the other part wanted to deny it. The implications were both monumental and terrifying.

"No, sir. And excuse my bluntness sir, but I think you know exactly what's going on. Roth out." And the link went dead. Hackett's heart was now racing as he refocused on Hannah and Sterling.

"Stay here with your son, Ensign. There's a... situation developing that I need to see to." He settled on as he moved towards the door of Shepard's quarters.

"What kind of situation, sir?" She asked to his back. Hackett hesitated for a moment.

"Capan Hackett?" Sterling asked around a mouthful of carrots.

He turned to meet her eyes. She looked worried.

"A potentially disastrous one."

IPW Cruiser Belan's Bounty

"Captain Ondol, we are approaching the Relay." Croaked the cruiser's navigation officer. Anyone unfamiliar with the body language of the giant pink cephalopod that was Captain Ondol would have missed the nod he sent to the Drell shipman.

"This one thanks you, Navigator." Ondol returned. As he reoriented his eyeless head towards the forward viewport, he was treated to the sight of space rocketing past him, courtesy of the Enkindlers' gateways across the galaxy.

It was barely two years ago that the Illuminated Primacy had reached a decision to search for a new world for their Drell allies. While the green aliens were integrated completely into the Hanar culture, several Drell who had taken political postings had noted that they wished to seek an alternative world where they could choose to live without worrying about contraction of the slow-acting but lethal Kepral's Syndrome. The politicians saw it as a way to save the children; the scientists saw it as a possible experiment that could better their alarmingly small numbers.

And shortly afterward, a nearly perfect world had been found. It was just a little too dry for an Asari colony, and while there were dextro-amino-based life forms and plants on the planet, the Turians were content with their current colonies. The Salarians had given the colonization flotilla a small amount of their latest colony-building supplies as a goodwill gesture.

The only downside that Ondol could see was the fact that the planet existed in the Attican Traverse. While under Council authority, the Traverse was considered a 'war zone' where pirates and slaver raids were constantly conducted or put down by Citadel forces. For that reason, Ondol had been put in charge of a strike force that would guard the colony until viable defenses could be set up. It was the largest congregation of Illuminated Primacy Warships since the evacuation of Rakhana. His fleet consisted of twelve frigates and four cruisers, each bearing similar aquatic features, not unlike the Asari vessels, but perhaps more artistic in their design. The civilian freighters appeared similar, but lacked the Javelin torpedo launchers and spinal-mounted mass accelerators of the cruisers. Ondol's fleet was a force to be reckoned with.

"We will be exiting Relay transit in ten seconds." The navigator stated. Ondol felt a small tremor of excitement run down his tentacles; he would be one of the first Hanar in an unexplored region of the galaxy!

"Three... Two... One..."

Space condensed back to its patchwork of stars as the Belan's Bounty exited the mass-free tunnel created by the Enkindlers' Relays. Immediately, various crew members, both Hanar and Drell, began to work furiously, obtaining data on the cluster they had just entered.

"Captain," a scanning officer began slowly, "something is wrong. By our estimates, we are several light-years away from where we should be." she stated. Immediately concerned, Ondol turned his faceless body towards her.

"This one does not understand, Bena. Was there a malfunction while we were in transit?" He asked.

"No, the Relay is... wait a moment," she turned back to her console. "I'm picking up several additions to the Relay. What are... Captain, they appear to be some type of engines. Someone has attached a set of engines to the Relay and moved it out of position!" She exclaimed. Ondol was properly baffled by that statement: Who in the name of the Enkindlers would move a Relay out of its rightful spot?

Oh, but it got better. "Captain! This one is reading multiple signatures within the cluster! And... they are above the garden world!" Exclaimed another Hanar.

"Who are they?" Ondol asked, irritation creeping into his luminous emissions. Nothing was going according to plan!

"Scanning..." The crewman went silent for a few moments. "Captain... you are not going to like this." He began. "None of their vessel profiles match anything in this one's database." Another shiver ran down Ondol's tentacles.

"Are you saying what this one thinks you are saying?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"This one is, Captain." The officer replied, turning to face his superior officer. "These ones have just made first contact."

First contact. The Hanar and Drell had not been part of such a monumental occasion since one discovered the other eight hundred years ago. And now Ondol's fleet would be the first to open communications with a new race... or begin a war.

"How many ships are there?" He asked.

"This one requires a moment," the Hanar scanner requested, running his tentacles over the console. "This one scans twenty-four vessels, with many different configurations. The smallest appear to be frigate-class, totaling ten. This one counts ten vessels approximated to be cruiser-class with five subtypes, and..." The scanner trailed off.

"Is that one unwell, Specialist?" Ondol asked.

"Forgive this one, captain. It is stunned by the presence of four vessels exceeding the size of a Turian dreadnought. Two are seventeen percent larger than the Turian dreadnoughts, and the other two... Enkindlers have mercy, are one-hundred-and-fifty percent larger."

All motion on the bridge ceased for a few seconds at the Specialist's declaration. A class of ship that was over two kilometers long!? Who felt the need to build ships that size? What species could build a ship that size? And more importantly, why were they blockading the Drell's new planet?

"Captain," Bena said again. "I'm detecting absolutely no traces of Element Zero from those ships."

That threw Ondol for a loop. No Element Zero? How? No ship could run without it!

"Do they know of these ones' presence?" Ondol asked. While it was true that he had a formidable group, fourteen of these unknown ships were the same size or bigger than his own.

"The frigates, cruisers and two of the dreadnoughts are turning to face these ones." The Specialist stated. "So this one would assume so."

'We're receiving a data packet." Bena stated.

"Talk to me, Kingry. What am I looking at?" Hackett asked from the bridge of the Pathfinder. He had ordered Roth to open a line to Jackson Kingry, who had taken his Prowler pack and gone dark when the Relay lit up.

"Multiple contacts have exited the Relay, sir. We count twelve corvette-sized ships, four heavy frigate or light cruiser-sized ships and twenty unarmed vessels, possibly freighters." The static-y voice of the LC returned to him. "All of the ships look... kind of aquatic. Reminds me of the Covenant warships a little bit." He remarked more to himself, referring to one of the antagonists of the Halo franchise. "But a whole lot smaller." He added as an afterthought.

"Do they know we're here?" Captain Cavendish, whose Blockade Runner had also been assigned to the Horizon effort, asked. The Stairway to Heaven had its ventral and dorsal dual-turbolasers warmed up and trained on the ships huddled around the Relay.

"Multiple lightspeed scans have been sent at the planet and fleet. We've remained undetected." Stated Chandra, the AI of one of the Prowlers. "The 'corvettes' appear to have some sort of laser batteries, but I can't tell how powerful they are without any live fire. Each has two launchers, presumably for torpedoes. The 'frigates' have the same armaments, in addition to some sort of MAC that runs the length of the ship. Also interesting, I'm detecting extreme gravity distortions from each ship. including the civilian ones. If I had to guess, I'd say they were using Element Zero for something."

"Element... Oh, boy. I think we might have found the Protheans." Kingry moaned. Trust him to say what everyone else was thinking. Despite his scalp moistening with sweat, Hackett stood tall.

"Marie, does the Pathfinder have the First Content Package?" He asked. From a pedestal beside his chair, the ship's AI, in the form of an elderly Marie Curie, sprang to life.

"Indeed, sir. Shall I record a message to be added to it?" She asked in her cracked, but kindly voice. Hackett sat straighter and straightened his blues.

"Begin recording." He ordered. Marie gave him a thumbs up to let him know she was doing so.

"Greetings, I am Captain Steven Hackett of the Human Armada Service Vessel Pathfinder. My fleet and I come in peace, and do not intend hostilities. We eagerly await your response." He stopped and so did Marie.

"Package away, sir. Anything further?" She asked. Hackett stroked his smooth chin for a moment. What else could he do?

"Scramble readiness teams, I want everyone prepped in case this meeting goes sour. Kingry, you still there?" An 'Affirmative,' came back through the speakers. "Get the Prowler pack's AIs to try and infiltrate their cyber-defenses, see if you can get a language out of it."

"On it, sir. You heard him, Truman!" He barked. As Hackett tuned out the organized chaos of the bridge, he began to think of what could become of this situation. On one hand, the Armada could establish peaceful relations and exist alongside these aliens, who could very well be the Protheans. On the other hand...

Well, God help them if things did not go well.

"Transmission from the alien ships received." Bena croaked. "Orders, captain?"

"Play it." Ondol ordered, more than a little frazzled, as evident by his lack of waxing eloquent.

The data packet opened with the image of one of the aliens. The first thing that both the Hanar and Drell members of the crew noted was that it was remarkably similar in appearance to an Asari. The key differences were its pale pinkish skin tone, a lack of scalp crests, some sort of fur tuft on its head, and a much sharper-looking face. When it spoke in a voice that was nearly as rough as a Turian's- minus the flanging sound- the language seemed sharp in some places, and flowed smoothly in others. After the solitary alien finished speaking, the bridge crew of the Belan's Bounty were bombarded by colourful images of a lush world full of deserts, mountains, oceans and rainforests. At each location one or more of the bi-gendered aliens- always clad in different types of attire- spoke vibrantly with expressions quite like an Asari's smile. What did the synthesized voice near the beginning of the vid call them? Hu... Humo... Human? Human, that was it! These 'Humans' appeared to be greeting them with possible spotlights on different subspecies within their genus.

What the crew of Belan's Bounty found most disconcerting was the final image of a solitary 'Human' dressed similarly to the first one who spoke. It stood before a backdrop of stars, most of which were shadowed by an enormous triangular ship. None of the crew were blind enough to miss the fact that the vessel was bristling with weapons. These humans seemed to be a peace-seeking race, but evidently had military might behind them that could be brought to bear against anything that threatened their existence. But for some reason, that triangular ship in the vid had no analogue in the blockade.

"What... was that?" The pilot asked. Ondol raised the intensity of his luminescent speech by a few candelas.

"This one believes that the video was a first contact package created by these... Humans. These ones should respond in kind. Jaron, would you assist this one, please? It does not believe that these humans will understand these ones' manner of speech." The captain addressed his second in command, who had just returned to service aboard the cruiser, bringing his young son with him. The not-so-young Drell moved beside his commanding officer as a small camera began to float in front of them. The light lit up as the camera began rolling.

"Repeat after this one please, but modify your speech if necessary. Greetings from the Hanar Illuminated Primacy. This one is Ondol, captain of the Illuminated Primacy Warship Belan's Bounty. Beside this one is the second in command, Jaron Krios. These ones are Hanar and Drell." Ondol raised a tentacle as he indicated his own species and Jaron's. "These ones wish to exist peacefully alongside you, and hope that they may open communications in the future."

As Ondol stopped pulsing with light, Jaron began to repeat what his captain had said, including gesturing to both species and modifying his words where necessary. As Bena sent their first contact package out on all available frequencies, Jaron sent a silent prayer to Arashu for protection to be granted to his young son Thane, should the interaction with the Humans lead to disaster.

To know aliens existed was one thing; to see them was another.

Jackson Kingry had to keep his mouth from dropping as he watched the video file that had been beamed out from one of the alien 'frigates'. They had apparently encountered not one, but two alien species working together. The one that spoke looked to be humanoid. Its green skin, reddish gill-like neck and wide nearly-black eyes reminded him of various reptiles he had seen on Earth. It's voice sounded rather like a frog's croak, if he was being honest.

The other one, though... it was just bizarre. It looked like a giant Portuguese man o' war. It had started flashing different colours before the green alien spoke. After both of them finished flashing and talking, a short animation had popped up, highlighting the two species. The reptilian one, if Kingry was pronouncing it right, was called a 'Drell' and the man o' war alien was called a 'Hanar'. From there, a short animation that looked like the Hanar rescuing or abducting the Drell played out, ending with several images of the two aliens living on a mostly water-covered world, although the Drell were only seen in some sort of bio-dome. They triggered a memory within Kingry's mind, something his father said about a project called RYAN.

"You get all that Kingry?" Hackett asked.

"Aye, sir. Looks like we're dealing with two species possibly operating as partners or in a master-servant relationship." He inferred.

"I'm inclined to say the former. Those bio-domes didn't look like concentration camps or prisons." One of the other Prowler captains chimed in.

"They haven't shot at us yet, so for the moment, we can assume that they're not hostile." Kingry continued.

"We've got bigger guns than they do, Kingry. Of course they're not going to shoot at us." Cavendish sighed.

'Aren't Canadians supposed to be incredibly nice?' Kingry thought.

"They also responded to our hails, which reinforces my statement." Kingry said a little testily. "Just my opinion, but I think that their return communications might mean that they'll be open to meeting us." He half stated, half suggested. Hackett would have to be blind not to see where Kingry was going with their situation.

"Do you really think that's a good idea, Kingry?" He asked, the words soaked in skepticism.

"All due respect captain, but do you have a better idea? Besides the one that involves shredding their collective pink and green assholes? Because I'm open to suggestions here." Kingry asked. A few of the COs listening in snickered or giggled at Kingry's crassness.

"Chirp, chirp!" Kingry said in a poor imitation of a cricket's call. "Nothing? Thought so. Alright boys and girls, listen up: We clearly have the upper hand here in terms of firepower. I suggest that we set up a meeting on board one of our ships. Any ideas which one?" He asked.

"How about one of the carriers?" Cavendish asked.

"Out of the question. I don't want any of our civilians jeopardized if things go sour." Captain Samarr Elrafih of the Gefjon objected. A sensible answer.

"The corvettes aren't an option. They don't support shuttle craft- assuming these aliens have them- and if the Prowlers suddenly appeared, we could spook them." Kingry added.

"I'd rather they not sabotage one of the medical frigates." Hackett mused. "So that leaves the Pathfinder, the Illuminator, the Battlecruisers, the Halcyons, or the Charons."

"I'd hold off on the heavies, sir." Cavendish suggested. The talk about which ship to use as a meeting ground continued for another three minutes before Hackett grew frustrated.

"Fine, I'll do it. Roth, set course for the alien ships. Nice and slow, we don't want them to think we're on an attack run." He keyed up the ship-wide comms. "All hands, enviro-suits on. We're going to be playing host to the aliens, and I don't want any of their nasties getting to us. Marie, draft up a video file telling them to take a shuttle to the docking bay. Kingry, any luck with their language?"

"Negative sir. We got it, but there's just nothing that we can use as a starting point for comparison. Looks like you'll be miming with them for a while. We'll keep trying though. Kingry out." And the connection went dead.

As the Pathfinder lurched gently as she began to accelerate away from orbit, Hackett sent a silent prayer to whoever was out there that the meeting would go favourably.

"Another vid file. Playing it now." Bena announced. All of the bridge personnel watched as the animation replaced the map of the Belan's Bounty's current location.

Unlike the previous vid, this one was a crude animation. It showed white wire frames of both their fleet and the alien one. From the alien fleet, a pleasantly curved ship detached and flew to a point halfway between both fleets. From one of their ships, a small block exited and made for the solitary ship. Ondol presumed that that block was probably meant to be a shuttle. The image magnified as the small block neared the curvy ship. Said ship turned around and a small door opened at the superior rear of the middle 'stem' which connected the dish-like main body to the tubular engines. As the block that was their shuttle approached the rear of the vessel and landed, two generic Drell and Hanar apiece exited the shuttle. Both of the Drell clutched blocky items Ondol assumed were guns. Opposite them were four humans, two of which carried the same blocky guns. The animation played three times.

"It appears that the humans wish to meet with these ones." Ondol concluded. From their forward viewport, a white ship identical to the one in the animation became visible in the distance. The vid hadn't done the ship justice. Its pale bluish-white hull was interspersed with white lights, and both the engines had a glowing strip on their outer surfaces. Across the dish were five double-barreled tubes on rotating ball-bearings presumably guns. Closer to the edge of the dish was a string of characters:

ECY-0276 HSV PATHFINDER

"I wonder what it says." Jaron voiced. Ondol said nothing as he began to make his way to the shuttle bay. Jaron followed. Neither of them said a word as they met Poyna and Skolin, the two fellows they were allowed to bring. Poyna was a female Hanar, light blue in colouration, and the junior engineering officer. Lieutenant Skolin was the leader of the Belan's Bounty ground forces, and one of the finest assassins to ever undertake the Compact. Like most assassins, he chose not to carry large, clunky weapons. Instead, he carried a Phalanx pistol with an attached scope for ranged fighting, and a short sword for close range combat. Over beside a few crates, Ondol saw...

"Ser Jaron," He began evenly. "This one must ask why your son is down here." He inclined his body towards the younger Krios, dressed in a dark grey jumpsuit. Little Thane, barely four years old, regarded the captain shyly before bowing.

"I intend to bring him with us." Jaron stated, much to the incredulity of all the others present. "If there is a child present, it is possible these Humans will be more hesitant to act hostile towards us." He explained.

"This one feels that your plan is a dangerous gambit." Poyna remarked.

Jaron crossed his arms. "I stand by it. Even the Krogan will spare children; what are the chances that these Humans- who sent us a greeting, mind you- are more violent than them?" He reasoned.

"... This one sees your point, but is still not reassured." Poyna admitted.

"At least they are allowing us to carry weapons." Jaron added, picking up a Carnifex pistol.

"This one must ask that we cease questioning the Commander's logic. These Humans will not wait for these ones forever." Ondol ordered as he went to board the shuttle. His shipmates and little Thane followed silently.

"Papa?" Thane asked in that adorable, high-pitched croak characteristic of all Drell children. "Are we going to meet the aliens?" There was hope in his voice.

In a rare moment of lacking restraint in front of his captain, Jaron pulled his son close to his flank and rested his cheek on Thane's head.

"Yes we are, Thane," he breathed. "Yes we are."

"Do you think they will have someone for me to play with?" Thane asked.

"I do not know." Jaron answered. "Maybe you can ask them."

Steven Hackett prided himself on being a hard man to read. While someone who didn't know him particularly well would think he was just fidgety, he truthfully felt like vomiting. As the Pathfinder turned about, engaged the energy barrier and opened the bulkhead to the shuttle bay, the aliens' equally aquatic-looking shuttle slowly taxied in. He was glad that his full environment suit covered his body and his face mask was tinted as the hatch opened and the impromptu delegates stepped out. He immediately noted that the Drell carried only some sort of folded-up pistols. Neither the pinkish or blue Hanar seemed to have a weapon on them.

'How could they?' He thought, 'they don't have anywhere to put them.'

It was then that Hackett notice something odd. One of the two Drell had a small child hiding behind his (Hackett assumed it was a male) leg. The little green alien looked to be about four or five. The captain wondered what would possess the father to bring the child into a potentially hostile situation. Sure enough...

'... Oh, that's clever. Bring a kid so they can vilify us if we take hostile action. Clever, clever bastards.' He almost shook his head. Instead, he decreased the polarization of his visor with a glance to the upper right of his HUD. As his face became visible, he took a few slow steps towards the alien 'delegates'. The Drell with a bluish tint to his skin similarly mirrored Hackett's action. They stopped a short distance from each other, neither making a further move. Hackett's eyes roved over the Drell's, and the Drell's eyes roved over Hackett.

The Human captain first noted that the article of clothing the greenish alien wore was similar to a human trench coat. Quite stylish, now that he thought about it. He took note of the alien's arms and legs, which looked just a little too long for its body. Longer reach in a fight, Hackett concluded as he saw the short sword the Drell carried. Finally, he made his move. He bent his upper body in a short bow, choosing the most reasonable show of respect and civility amongst humans. The Drell watched him impassively before flawlessly repeating the gesture. 'So far so good,' He murmured.

"Steven Hackett," He announced slowly, pointing to himself. The Drell picked up on the captain's intention quickly.

"Skolin Tiris," He replied, placing his hand over his chest.

Silence reigned for several seconds as each side contemplated each other. Finally, Hackett raised his arms slowly to grasp his helmet. Skolin Tiris watched him closely. The green alien's nearly black eyes widened slightly as the captain revealed his face. Ondol and Poyna made small exclamations of surprise. Jaron and Thane remained silent. Hackett could only assume the gesture was due to surprise.

Skolin looked down at Steven Hackett's hand as he held it out. He wondered if this was some sort of greeting or ritual gesture, and quickly emulated it. After two seconds of nothing happening, Steven Hackett moved his hand to grasp Skolin's. As Skolin grasped the Human's hand, Hackett shook their linked appendages slowly.

"Friends." Hackett said slowly. Skolin met Hackett's eyes.

"Fr... Fraands." He repeated, the unfamiliar word not coming out just right. Hearing the word made Steven Hackett's face contort into an expression very similar to a Drell or Asari's smile.

If the expression was similar in context, Skolin allowed himself to believe that they could be moving towards something great.

"Where we goin' Mommy?" Sterling Shepard asked. Hannah did not answer immediately; the uncertainty was distracting her.

Five minutes ago, Captain Hackett had requested her presence in the shuttle bay, and told her to bring her son. When she asked why, he answered "To make first contact go smoother."

"We're going to the shuttles, Sterling." Hannah gulped. "Captain Hackett told us to."

"We see aliens?" He asked. Startled at her son's statement, Hannah jumped just a little bit. She stared for a good ten seconds before she could muster a reply.

"... Yes," She began. "Yes, we are."

As the mother and son entered the hangar bay and saw the three species trying to communicate with each other, Hackett's reason for asking her to bring Sterling became abundantly clear:

Standing close to a green-skinned alien with huge, dark eyes was a much younger one. It was standing very close to the larger alien, presumably its parent.

"Mommy look!" Sterling cried ecstatically. "Little alien!" He pointed.

Said little alien must have heard, because it turned to look at Hannah and Sterling. Upon seeing the toddler, it blinked a few times. The older alien looked over to her and, in a move that shocked Hannah, turned its bulbous lips upwards in a small smile.

"Yacs'a Thane, drolon f'sashk." It croaked. The little alien looked up at its larger analogue, presumably its father. "Ula puzz twem f'sashkke."

And with that, the older alien began gesturing to Hackett, ending by pointing at Hannah and her son. Hackett followed the alien's finger and upon seeing her, nodded. The alien, its son and Hackett began to walk slowly over to the two. Hannah grew more nervous with every step they took.

"Ensign, this is Jaron Krios and his son Thane." Hackett began the introductions. Jaron looked over at the use of his and his next of kin's name. "Jaron, Thane, Hannah Shepard," here Hackett pointed at her "Sterling Shepard." And he pointed at her son.

"Haa-na Shepard." Jaron repeated, sounding to the ensign like the croak of a frog. To Hannah's surprise, he held out his hand. She almost remained unmoving, only re-engaging when Hackett cocked one of his eyebrows at her. She grasped Jaron's comparatively cooler hand, shaking it softly. "Sterrrling Shepard." Jaron rolled out the child's name with slightly less trouble.

"Hi!" Sterling chirped, waving one of his pudgy arms. Jaron returned the gesture, but with much more control. Thane seemed a little tense.

"Twem drolon f'sashk, Thane." Jaron repeated softly. Thane took a small step away from his (her?) father and emulated his controlled greeting wave. He then turned to Sterling and repeated the gesture.

"Twemme, Stre... Sterrrling Shepard." Thane said in a much higher voice than his father's.

"Tweemme, Thane!" Sterling hooted back, much to the delight of both the Drell. From Sterling's side, Hannah smiled softly.

'This might not turn out so bad after all.'

There you go people, a super-sized ( over 9000 words) chapter! I know not a whole lot happened, but hey, you got a little plot thickening and to see my take on first contact. If any of you know of a first contact story involving the Drell and Hanar, let me know because I can't find any. Anyways...

1) Tell me whether or not you liked this chapter

2) Tell me what you SPECIFICALLY liked about this chapter

3) Tell me what you DIDN'T like about this chapter

4) Recommend a suitable improvement

Bonus: See if you can identify the naming schemes for the Armada ships.

Good night,

DR