Good news I beat final fantasy 7 and 15. Along with about a dozen other games. God that was a chore but worth it. Xenoblade chronicles is just too good to ignore. Seriously get that game. Monado monado monado god they love that word.

Okay a lot of positive feedback and solid suggestions. Also a review that may have been longer than the chapter itself. That one just Wow. Now this chapter is a little filler and to answer the question of were prometheum comes from. Lastly thanks to a Votan weapon from the show I am bringing in my second favourite sci-fi weapon. The first being the caster from outlaw star. Which if I do bring it in, yep imma bringing it it. So two of my favorite weapons are coming in. As for the cylons let's just say karma can be a real BITCH!

Now some people will wonder if so many races have warp jump and even hyperdrives. Why hasn't the citadel discovered them yet. Well my friends space is big. Like crazy big. The sheer odds of genuinely mapping even five percent of our galaxy moving at light speed would take about a million years. The citadel normally never ventures beyond the relays. Why will be explained later. You could have an empire right next door and never know. The only reason the Votans found haven was because that test ship was like a supernova to their sensor. Even then it was pure chance.

Also I know my descriptions of ships stink so if you have the time google images help.

Now let's begin.

Thirty seconds into the Turians attack.

Vulcan gunship 4461 was a standard heavy gunship. With no modifications or special features. It still had that new ship smell in some areas. With a regular crew trained to do the job The best they could, with pride they served the colonies. However the crew had a very special crewman. One that was anything but loyal to the colonies. In fact her people for nearly fifty years had been plotting and preparing to utterly annihilate them. Her name was corporal second class gunner Vela Hundez.

And she was a Cylon model six.

Unlike the others of her series she had short hair dyed brown. When the other infiltrators learned of the pathfinder expedition the planned attack was put on hold. The desire to make sure every human was exterminated had caused her to be transferred to evaluate if the pathfinder were a threat and how best to eliminate them. She had like the rest of the fleet couldn't believe the transmissions from the inner system. Though logically it was foolish borderline psychotic to believe only one sentient race inhabited the galaxy. It was only a matter of time before first contact. Unfortunately for them their first contact was anything but peaceful.

The attack happened with no warning. Ships unlike anything she had seen decimated them. With everything they had they tried to fend off the attackers to no effect. Her own ship firing on a Turian ship with everything they had and it did nothing. A first generation basestar would have been crippled from her pass. Then she saw the hit the Pegasus took decimating one of the most powerful ships short of the Cylon colony ship. Now it was a wreck barely worth salvaging. That was the day she felt true fear for the first time. When Cain ordered a retreat to Reach she had already formulated her plan. Reaching out to the pilot and snapping his neck was simple. What followed in her mind was a deception that would make Cavil proud.

Taking the controls she wasted no time plotting a course back to the colonies. By the time they got back in two days the rest of her crew would be dead. A tragic 'accident' caused by nonstop jumping damaging the jump drives shielding sadly poisoning her crew. She would die in some humans arms the damaged jump drives radiation finally killing her. But her last words would tragically ignite a war and destroy their enemy. More than enough time to doctor records and set it up to make it look like the pathfinder group did a sneak attack. The response would make the mission almost child's play.

Little did she know her people were already doomed. Their only salvation would one day be the mercy of the very humans they despise.

Planet Centaurion.

In all the Haven system there was no planet more secure than the Centaurion planet. In the past century it had become completely industrialised. The location and nearby resources made it the logical choice. Hundreds of Volg run and operated factories produced everything the system needed. From prefabricated parts for homes to fully functional ships of all sizes. Except for leisure technology like holoscreens and gaming systems it was all built here. The normally toxic air and barren surface was welcomed by the ten foot tall walking apocalypses. Their hardy biology made them the only race that could walk the surface unaided. In exchange for control of all but the ruins the Volg had one condition to become the industrial work horse of the system. No omec could set foot on the planet. The primordial fear they held for there ancestral predators was as strong today as When they invented space flight to get away from them. It was with no offense the omec agreed. As long as Omecs had something to hunt and eat they were simple to work with.

Thus the planet Centaurion became the manufacturing center of Haven.

For every craft bringing in raw materials just as many left with finished products. It was a highly complex and detailed system. One where even a slight navigation error or unauthorised ship could spell disaster. Multiple stations staffed by hundreds of crew managed the traffic. It was a vital and increasingly complicated system. One that if attacked could be a tragedy. Thus protecting and securing the planet was a high priority. Not even the core worlds had more security. At all times nearly forty percent of Ranger forces were stationed on the planet or in orbit. This was due to four simple things.

The Centaurion's technology was still the most advanced in the known universe.

The research and development of new technologies was conducted mainly on this world for security. In the event of an accident the loss of life would be minimal.

Over sixty percent of all ships were constructed on the planet's surface.

Lastly it was home to nearly the entire galaxie's known supply of Prometheum. Mined from around the system and stored in the most secure facility in haven. Known as simply the vault.

To insure the safety of those whose work improved the lives of the alliance the Rangers had their flagship the SDF Valiant in orbit at all times.

The Valiant was one of two Titan class heavy carriers. Built on the very planet it now shielded. With another three more now under construction. It's sister ship the Hydra was on constant patrol. At one thousand two hundred twenty meters long and just over two hundred thirty meters at its widest. The Titan class was the peak of alliance engineering. Twin rectangular vertical engines produced unmatched speed for a ship of its size. The basic form tapered off so the front of the ship was a mere one hundred twelve meters across. The deck of the ship launched fighters and support craft from the deck like ancient navel carriers. However thanks to the fighters G drive the need for long runways was nonexistent. Allowing twenty fighters to launch at once. In multiple directions at once for maximum deployment. The deck itself was slightly parted clear down the middle. This was a hidden function for the ship's most powerful weapon the reflex energy cannon. A true weapon of last resort. Where the launch decks met The back engines on both sides of the ship rested heavy weapon pods. On each pod was mounted four positron shock cannons. With hundreds of medium sized torpedo launchers running along the side of the ship. The bridge was placed just in behind the launch deck. At twenty stories tall the main bridge itself was visible showing a complex bridge crew in the dozens. Normally this was a death sentence but for a warship of the Titan class it was the most defended part of the ship. What appeared to be glass was a special transparent alloy that showed a projection of the bridge. Beneath that was a series of armor plates with shock ballistic capture gel. Giving the bridge the ability to tank multiple high yield nuclear blasts without loss of life. The whole ship was protected with an omnidirectional space time shield. With a secondary gravity barrier for projectile weapons. Rumors of a back engineered particle barrier even more effective developed from Centaurion tech were said to be installed on the newer ships.

This ship was the symbol of the Rangers. The embodiment of their strength and resolve to defend the Haven system. It was built to potentially operate unaided for twenty years. The Valiant's presence over the Centaurion planet kept countless attempts to steal the treasures below from succeeding.

The planet itself was still barely habitable. The air while not lethal would still cause anyone without the four massive lungs of a Volg to pass out in moments. No plants grew on the surface. Another security precaution to better track organics on the surface. The underground Volg cities were said to be beyond description. Only a select few had ever been allowed into these cities and none had the words to describe them.

The uncovered ruins of the Centaurions now covered a full nine hundred square miles. On the planet's southern hemisphere was the primary Prometheum refinery. Raw ore was brought from around the system and the classified refinement process carried out securely away from civilian centers. For security until it was needed all prometheum not in use was stored on the planet. The Valiant was in geosynchronous orbit above the main storage facility. The rangers Kept even the most brazen thief from attempting to steal the treasures inside. This facility also had another use known only to the most elite Rangers. It was in fact their darkest secret. This was where the black ops devision operated.

From the facility a lone black stealth fighter launched. Designed with a Centaurion dark matter generator the craft became a black void like shape the moment the hanger doors opened. The dark matter generator rendering the ship undetectable to even the most advanced sensors. In the void of space it would be truly invisible. Without a sound the thirty meter axe shaped void launched. Reaching orbit in seconds the craft entered warp velocity and was gone. The ships soul pilot now on the hunt.

Primus Central hospital recovery ward.

If there was one word to describe Gaius Baltar that word for most would be cockroach. If you asked Gaius Baltar it would be three words driven, intelligent, and lucky. When he was asked to go recover the pathfinder expedition he thought it would be another feather in his cap. The fame of going on such a mission would have set him up for a dozen book deals. Like the rest of the fleet when they arrived he nearly had a heart attack. From the moment they picked up the transmissions he had been hard at work. His team was focussed on trying to get historical information. Then alarms sounded followed by explosions. The last thing he remembered was a blast followed by a wave of white. Had he not been killed he would have noticed it was the primary cooling system rupturing. Freezing dozens of crew near instantly.

That had been three days ago. Imagine his surprise to wake up alive and well with an indogene doctor looking down at him. A rather blunt yet compassionate doctor who took the time to explain the flash freeze bought them time to revive and heal them. The revival process was not perfect and he along with the rest of the survivors would need medication for the rest of their lives. Even then the expected life span would be twenty years, thirty if he was lucky. But he was alive and he was Gaius Baltar damn it he would make every moment count. Of the several thousand crew only ninety four crew survived. They were being restored with the admiral herself a priority patient having her legs and arms reconstructed from blank clone tissue. The very moment he could move he all but begged for a book tablet ANYTHING to understand the science behind the technology.

Sitting in a rather comfortable chair in a large room designed to be as relaxing as possible Baltar held a glass holographic tablet. Behind him the image of a tropical waterfall played quietly. Clad in a light blue shirt and pants he was completely oblivious to the dozens of crewmen clamoring around him in a near riot. His eyes were glued to a hundred and forty year old photo projected in front of him. The image was of a group of people in front of the original Twin horns. Clad in bulky ancient environmental suits their helmets were off and they each held a pint of Mudders Milk. The name of the photo was called air day. When Reach's air became breathable. In the front of the photo was a person he had only heard stories his personal hero.

Gaia Baltar.

As a young boy he had found her Journal and it had changed his life. Her drive for the sciences was almost superhuman. The mystery of her disappearance was one he always wanted to solve. But records of her ended after she graduated from the Caprica science academy. Now he had all the answers he ever wanted. In the colonies the name Baltar was only famous for him. But here the name Baltar was legendary. Countless scientists,doctors, artists,and explorers. Each one had worked generation after generation to build this amazing world. He was so focused on the photo he never heard a man yell out.

"Incoming!"

With a soft hiss the door opened as two Rangers entered. A pair of young Castithan women that radiated a sense of serenity seemed to put the solders at ease. The Castithans mastery of body language made those not familiar with them assume they were completely harmless. When in truth they were some of the most cunning manipulative races in the Galaxy. Only surpassed by another distant race through sheer age and experience. Seeing Baltar they walked immediately up to him. The colonials parted as they walked up to their goal. With a pleasant tone one of them asked calmly.

"Dr. Baltar?"

Startled he looked up almost dropping the tablet. Seeing the two smiling down at him was a shock. But he managed not to make a fool of himself as he nodded to confirm what they obviously knew. Without losing there disarming aura one of them smiled and said.

"Dr. Baltar your presence has been requested by the magister. Please come with us."

With a clear attempt to appear calm when in truth the worst possible scenarios began to play in his mind he stood up and followed them out. On their way out one of the Rangers looked back and said.

"Don't worry after we figure out how you will all be going home unharmed."

This visibly seemed to put many of them at ease as the three left.

Primus Central administration building.

In the heart of Primus the twenty story tall administration building was a constant work in progress. Depending on the situation and staff entire floors would be under never-ending remodeling. The only part never altered was the central gardens in the center of the building. From ground floor clear through the ceiling it was a breathtaking sight. The waterfall was many people's favorite feature. Looking over this garden near the twelfth floor was admiral Cain. Her heavy gaze was on a four winged silver hummingbird the size of an Eagle. The bird was hovering just on the other side of the glass looking at her. The admiral's hospital gown had been replaced with a replica of her uniform. With a small bulky gauntlet on her left arm the indogene doctor told her it was called an omnitool. It would automatically administer the medication to keep her clone tissue from failing, and monitor her vitals.

Looking at that bird she should have been in a state of awe and wonder. The very trip from the hospital to this building was surreal. The sights and technology were still beyond her. But for her it was like water over rocks. Cain had only one thing on her mind anymore as she was lost in her thoughts. Once standing tall and proud as the admiral who was suppose to bring the pathfinder expedition back into the colonies protection. She was now reduced to a refugee on the very world her ship was supposed to appear over like a benevolent God. Remembering it all she felt was rage.

Rage at the loss of her fleet.

Rage at the loss of nearly five thousand servicemen.

Rage at being beaten without even drawing her attackers blood, and most importantly.

Rage at herself for surviving when others didn't.

Her thoughts of vengeance were shattered as a young man's voice said calmly.

"The Centaurion silverwing. Cloned eight years ago from remains found in the main ruins. Majestic birds that can once again soar the skies."

Looking back she saw an oddly dressed Irathian man. The rather exotic style of clothing famous amongst the race was not toned down with this one. He was clad in a green kilt, blue leather jacket, and a bowler hat. His hair was pulled to the right as eyes showed a relaxed almost mischievous air. To most he would seem non threatening. But she could tell he was trained and more than willing for a fight. The Ranger crest on his jacket was another giveaway. Walking up beside her he stared at the bird as he said calmly.

"My condolences for your men. You guys were basically a Volg who wandered into an omec den. But the least you can do is not hate yourself. Hate the bugs who attacked you."

As the bird flew off he pointed towards a hallway and said.

"The magister is waiting, let's walk and talk."

Fighting the urge to take command she nodded as she began to follow him. Listening as he explained the situation.

"You guys got the humes in a right panic. Apparently they honestly thought you guys would have blown yourselves up a long time ago. The council and magisters are working overtime to keep them from panicking. Dropping that warship on us didn't do you any favors."

Ignoring the jab at the colonies Cain had a question that had been concerning her.

"What exactly is a magister?"

Stopping for a moment he looked back at her.

"That's right I forgot. Guess I'll explain the basics. Magisters are the highest rank Rangers can achieve. It takes the best to be one and you have to earn it. There in charge of entire planets, bases, and ships. Whatever they are needed to command and defend. The magister for Reach is the one you're meeting. He's a good guy who'll explain what's gonna happen. Ah where here."

Stopping at a large metal door she was ready for anything. When the doors opened to the magister's office she gave a temporary lapse of control at the sight before her. She expected many things. A room full of weapons seized in battle. A cold empty office with a single desk. A madhouse of a command room with dozens hard at work. What she never expected was a small welcoming tavern.

For a split second she thought she was back on Tauron. The room was mostly wood lit with natural light coming in from a balcony. A traditional hexagon shaped fire pit was in the center of the room. Above the fire pit hanging from the ceiling eight televisions showing the various news broadcasts from the system. A simple glance told her what the broadcast was about. One scene showed the wreck of her ship still on fire. Tearing her eyes away she saw the main bar where two people waited. Instantly recognizing Gaius Baltar she had to fight the bile coming at the sight of him relaxed and enjoying a pint. It was the man serving him that unnerved her the most.

Standing behind the counter was an elderly man in his late seventies. Slightly heavy set with short white hair. He gave off the sense of a kind grandfather. A person that could never harm a soul and you could trust with your life. His smile never left him as with a chuckle he said to Baltar.

"So guess what I did after that."

Setting his drink down Baltar smiled and asked him amused.

"What did you do?"

Grinning the man chuckled and said with pride.

"I did exactly what he asked. I sent my fighter full speed into his bridge. Crawled my way out of that wreck. Walked right up to him and said strait to his face.

You need to move your ship out of the way sir. Here is your ticket.

Ha you should have seen the look oh wait"

Turning around he grabbed a photo off the wall. Showing a scared senseless Castithan amid a ruined and scorched bridge.

With a grin the Irathian Ranger whispered.

"Okay your on your own."

Left to fend for herself Cain calmly walked up to the bar and with a swift salute introduced herself.

"Rear admiral Helena Cain colonial Navy."

With a smile the man set a pint down for her and replied calmly never losing his chipper demeanor.

"Magister first class Quiten McHale. Now that the introductions are out of the way sit down this Mudders Milk won't drink itself."

As Cain reluctantly sat down he poured himself a pint and held up the cup. Knowing instantly it was a toast the two colonial raised theirs as he bowed his head and said.

"The universe has lost four thousand eight hundred eighty six lights. May we shine brighter to honor them and light our darkest hours. So saw we all."

As one they downed the pints and all but slammed them on the counter. That was when Cain saw not the kindhearted man but the tired solder he really was. Any doubts about tolerating him vanished as he said.

"I dream of the day I never have to do that again."

With a soft sigh he looked at her and was back to the kind grandfather persona as he said calmly.

"Dr. Baltar here was kind enough to explain everything about your mission. Hate to say it kid but it never would have worked were just too independent. But you're not here for that. You got men to avenge. Gotta say though your patience is amazing. I know a hundred Rangers and a dozen magisters that would've already gone off and raised hell. That said we figured out who attacked your fleet."

Tapping the counter seemingly in random spots a collection of holographic screens appeared in front of her. Nearly falling out of her seat in shock. She stopped as the image of a turian spectre caught her attention. The very spectre that lead the attack on her fleet. While Baltar was more focused on reading the countless pages of information.

Seeing he had her attention he decided to explain.

"Say hello to spectre zero. He's a turian basically the attack dogs of the citadel council. The Votans got a real nasty history with them. Long story short they believed they own the galaxy. Anyone who doesn't obey is automatically a criminal. They even punish newly encountered races for breaking laws they never heard of. We encountered pirates from their biggest crime lord and shall we say had aggressive negotiations. Now we think we know why they attacked and it's a worst case scenario."

With a couple more taps on the counter the screens changed to show the gun camera of a viper. Clear as day it showed a Vulcan being captured. The photage ended as he sighed and explained.

"These arrogant frackers only use thee absolute worst FTL system in the universe. Even your ships are hundreds of times better and they've been space faring for a thousand years. It's what kept them out of a lot of omec dens. If they back engineer that drive they won't stop until every race in the universe obeys them. Hate to say it but we need to save these idiots from themselves."

Before he could continue a message appeared in from of him. Tapping the table revealed a simple line.

Operation commencing transmitting helmet photage.

With a grin he looked at Cain and said.

"Good news my dear you are in for a show."

A large holoscreen appeared it's image would be the best fracking thing she had seen in years.

Welp that took longer than I thought. The next chapter will be out when it's out. Remember I am the author I decide what happens. And for what he did in the show Apollo will suffer. He knows what he did. Now as for prometheum it's an element made of exotic particles generated by the gravity friction of multiple stars in extreme proximity. Next chapter shows why you should fear any and all Omecs. Even a half breed who gets the job done.