Strength. Discipline. Honor. These are the pillars of Turian Society. And after meeting a race faced with extinction, they will stand by these pillars. No matter what the Asari say.
Hierarchy Cruiser; Victorious
"We've got contact."
"Contact? With what?"
"Large object, bearing 3-12."
"Track it. Do you have visual?"
"No visual. Sensor data's coming in. 1,782 metres in length, design unknown."
"Design? Is it a ship?"
"If so it's a weird one. Size of a dreadnought, built like a cruiser."
"A cruiser? At 1,800 metres?"
"All I have is the sensor data, sir."
"Alright, bring the Might of Palaven and the Righteous Death to bear, and hail the ship. Send a message to the council, tell them we have possible first contact."
"Aye sir."
Admiral Cyprian Decimus, of the 7th Scout Flotilla of the 3rd fleet Victorious stared at the data. 4 weeks of patrolling backwater systems and following ghost signals had led to this. Probably the culmination of his career, contact with a new species. It's what little Turians looking to the stars dreamed about. Hell, he dreamed of it as a child. This could be interesting.
"Sir? We've got a response."
"Patch it through."
"... It's not a worded response, sir. It seems to be text."
"Text? Readable text? In Tredan?"
"Seems to be. An ancient variant, look like some old religious text, but readable."
"What does it say?"
"All who harbour them shall not be spared. They cannot hide. If you harbour them, you shall not be spared. Death to the heretics. Glory to the Prophets."
"Uh… What?"
"Seems to be asking if we're hiding them."
"Who are them?"
"Sir, with all due respect, hell if I know. I'm just the comms specialist. Leave that to the eggheads."
That snapped him back to the moment
"Say we hide nothing, and we welcome them to the galactic community. There are no enemies here."
"Aye Sir."
A few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence.
"We got a response sir!"
"Play it out, specialist."
"The message just reads, "Ignorant Children. There are enemies everywhere. Do not interfere with what you do not understand."
To say the message was cryptic would be an understatement. No more references to "them", just what seemed to be an insult and a warning. Perhaps they meant to-
"6 ADDITIONAL CONTACTS, BEARING 394!"
"Aliens?"
"...Maybe? Sensors say different materials, different designs."
"1 dreadnought, 5 cruisers."
"Recall the Righteous Death and Might of Palaven. All ships in a defensive posture around the relay, prepare to-"
"Weapons fire! Original contact is firing on new contacts! Designation changed to Hostile 1, and Neutrals 1-6."
"Neutrals are returning fire!"
"Spirits! H-01 is firing plasma!"
"Neutrals returning fire with… Holy shit, 600 ton slugs!"
"H-01 has some kind of energy shields- nothing's getting through!"
"Neutrals 2, 4, and 5 are disabled and drifting!"
"Sir, the flotilla is requesting orders."
"Bring in the Manae's Flight and the Order through Justice. Get us sandwiched in between the two sides."
"...Sir?"
"DO IT!"
"...Aye Sir. Moving in, point 34. Manae and Order have acknowledged and are moving in."
It was a clash of titans, of epic proportions. The giants clashed, spitting glowing death, as explosions rattled the void, and molten metal poured into the gaping holes in the 3 remaining neutral vessels.
And in the void, 3 pinpricks of light blasted towards the glowing mess.
UNSC Glowing Embers.
The scout flotilla was utterly broken. With half the ships were disabled, and the lone Marathon Cruiser in no condition to fight within the next decade, the remaining frigates clustered into what would normally be described as a "wolfpack", if it wasn't an insult to every other wolfpack that ever existed. Including ones made of actual wolves. Whatever firepower the remaining Paris and Charon class frigates could give, the Covenant Battlecruiser could take and return tenfold.
Admiral Nathan Smith held on as the Ember was rocked by more of the damned plasma torpedos.
"Sir! 3 of the Unknowns have broken off, and are heading towards no-mans land."
"Sensor station, repeat?"
"3 unknowns, heading to No-Mans Land."
"Will they enter the firing lanes?"
"Yes sir."
"Have all ships cease fire as they pass. We can't afford another war."
"Aye Sir. Relaying orders to Imperator and Dying Light."
What are those fuckers up to?
The 3 hierarchy cruisers fell into position directly in between the opposing vessels, and waited. There was a palpable tension as both sides simply stared at what would later be called "the most ballsy gamble in modern Turian history", as the hierarchy vessels tried to open up channels with everyone at once.
"We've got another transmission from H-01", a comms officer shouted.
"No response from any of the neutrals.", another responded.
"Patch it through."
The admiral's calm voice cut through the chatter of the CIC.
The officer obliged, and as the screen flickered on, a… thing appeared.
It was hard to describe. It's mouth split into 4, with numerous teeth on the interior, and it spoke with a deep, sonorous voice in an archaic style that fell out of fashion centuries ago.
"You insolent children! We warned you to stay away from interfering with that you do not understand. But now you stand with the heretics, and shall burn with them. You shall woe the day you dared to defy the Covenant."
Then, all hell broke loose.
The vessel designated as H-01 opened fire on the remainders of the neutral forces. Vessels N-01, N-03, and N-06 fired up the reverse thrusters, while firing their 600 ton slugs.
The Manae's Flight blasted full speed towards port, and broadsided the vessel with every mass driver capable of firing at that angle.
The Order through Justice knocked into reverse, firing the main mass accelerator at speeds that were probably not safe for either the gun, or its target.
The Victorious pulled back towards the relay, which happened to be behind the Neutral forces.
And through all that, the Covenant Battlecruiser bared menacingly down on the ragged fleet.
Hey guys! Starting off with as space battle here ('cause there's no way that could go wrong.)! Actually space-happenings will be later. Seeya next time!