Khaela, Cruiser UNSC Apollo.
The ONI strike group moves through the darkness of Slipspace, and I think about speeds and engines. The darkness of Slipspace is absolute, but not quite. There is definitely something else there besides the blackness that completely absorbs radiation. With every such transition, I try to see more, but always unsuccessfully. Likely, it is an imperfection of optics; eyes and cameras suitable for eleven-dimensional space have yet to be invented. And my attempts to bypass the problem lead to nothing; I have to shake Jacob for ideas. But it's interesting! The library on the internal processes of this space is empty; even during the war with the Forerunners, I wasn't given such libraries. And now I wish to fill the void, one way or another.
The technologies of both Humans and The Covenant, and even the Citadel, will follow a fairly obvious route, as they are based on already known technologies of past civilizations. Humans, Forerunners, Protheans—it doesn't matter much which specific technologies they are; one can easily understand them from the now-historical chronicles of past races. I myself have a library of such knowledge, though far from complete. That is not interesting.
Now Slipspace—that's a different matter. Mendicant Bias mentioned neurophysics, which the ancestors of the Forerunners, the Precursors (they were tight on imagination), worked with. The Forerunners eventually managed to understand this knowledge, if not fully. I want it too; it will be my magnum opus, my legacy. And I am absolutely certain that the key to this knowledge lies here, in the absolute darkness. One just needs to see. One needs the right eyes. But that's for later; for now, the engines.
The fact is that the speed of a fleet is always limited by the speed of the slowest ship in the formation. We have two Jupiter-class ships with us, specifically the UNSC Longinus and the Dominion-class, but since all the other ships have a top speed of twenty light-years per day, these ships cannot move fast enough, essentially being limited to the same twenty light-years per day. A problem.
And there is little that can be done about this; a more complex engine requires a mass of changes to the design; simply refitting existing ships won't work.
A more powerful antimatter reactor is needed, which requires redesigning the reactor compartment and a cooling system of a different model. A more powerful reactor will entail a more powerful power system, power conduits of a different design so they don't simply melt under the new loads. And since there is more energy, it means energy weapons can be installed, higher-capacity secondary systems, engines, and much more. For all this to work, cooling circuits are needed, and they... You can't just install a more powerful Slipspace Drive; it turns into a completely new ship. And the fleet develops a speed discrepancy.
I am running simulations because our formation, to reach the designated point, has to frankly contort itself, and for everything to work, I have to contort, negotiate, and prepare equipment without a full test cycle. No, the simulations show that everything will work; we aren't creating anything unique; such things have already happened in the history of Citadel Space. I just don't like the fact of the haste itself. But the task must be completed, and so here we are, flying to the Contact System through the darkness of Slipspace. By order of the Vice Admiral, the detachment is going into battle.
Where is the strike group heading? In one of the neutral systems, negotiations between the Batarians and the Covenant are planned. This information was passed to us by the Shadow Broker, and we were able to confirm it, albeit very indirectly. A group of Batarian ships is preparing not to retake the colonies, but to move to that very system. But what will happen if a group of Humans arrives there and, together with the captured Batarian ships, blows the negotiators apart? The Covenant won't like that. That is the plan.
We captured the Batarian ships; all that remains is to deliver the Human ships to the right system and do it on time. And this is where the difficulties begin.
Of course, the Covenant forces in the system could be significant, but we won't be able to pull up large forces fast enough. For the Covenant forces, 7,200 light-years is a week's flight. For us, it's from two and a half months (the Jupiters) to a year (everyone else). So four cruisers and six destroyers are all we will have with us. And it was precisely here that I was required to bring in the Geth so that even these forces could reach the right point.
I had to urgently test prototype FTL Drive modules from rebuilt Geth ships and mount them. Otherwise, a flight at a speed of twenty light-years per day would have taken at least a year one way. Which in no way fits the operation's timeline. The Geth agreed to help and will even provide a little support from their side, albeit only with reconnaissance; they have enough of their own tasks. Will this be enough to achieve success? I have no idea.
Our FTL-missile and the fact that we have three ships with energy weapons, all equipped with liquid shields—with the UNSC Apollo carrying the weapon of the Boundless Will—increase the chances of success somewhat. If we don't win, we will inflict significant damage and then retreat. That is the plan.
While all this was being prepared, while the ships flew through Slipspace to the Contact System, while the Avatar waited at the station and the core urgently mounted modules, prepared torpedoes, and helped with robots in preparing the ship and weapons for battle, Ajax and I also modeled various scenarios. It's not a fact that it will help, but it's better to conduct tests and drills now than to go into total uncertainty.
In her free time, the combat Avatar stood by the window again, peering into the void of Slipspace. How to see you, hmm? I am not human; I am not afraid of what might be there.
Once it seemed to me that I saw a floating city there with many purple towers, covered by the bluish film of a shield, but that is nonsense. It's just the simulator trying to give specific images to perceptual anomalies. One can emulate a lot of things even when looking at ordinary cloud cover. Of course, it's just an optical illusion.
"If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you," a voice came from behind.
The Avatar took a step to the side, allowing Yellow to stand next to her. It had been quite a while since we worked together; each of us had our own operations. And now, here we are again. The Avatar nodded to the Spartan under the gazes of people passing by. No comments; everyone was already used to the Avatar being here. So why shouldn't a Spartan be?
"Hello, Yellow. On business, or?"
He stands nearby without moving, already in armor repainted in camouflage. Unlike me, with moving tails, Yellow is a statue in his own name.
"You haven't been showing up for training. I wanted to show you what Cuckoldun has achieved. The boy is trying. He asked when his favorite mentor would return."
I snorted. Suslikov is a bit afraid of me. Perhaps because the Avatar doesn't hesitate to perform "lethal strikes," stopping the blade of a gravity hammer very close to the target's helmet, because she can. Well, and in the case of sparring with Drack, simply punching the Krogan in the face—he himself is happy to respond in kind. Considering that a Krogan's punch bends steel... Well, I can understand such a reaction. But I simply said to Yellow:
"Just say you missed me."
He thought for a couple of seconds, then replied boringly:
"You lack our signature Spartan phlegmatism (TM). You like annoying everyone too much; the sergeants would have beaten that out of you during training. If you want to be like us, act the part."
I chuckled and flicked my tails, but Yellow didn't react. He was as if saying: this is how you should react. Well, that would just be boring.
"It's just that I'm a beautiful, fluffy brunette with a great figure and excellent fur, which means I'm also smart. And I'm not trying to pass for a Spartan for those who understand. It's your right whom to consider an equal. I know how important that is to you. So my behavior is not an error. But a user-adapted simulation."
Yellow calmly added:
"And you are also overconfident and look down on everyone. Many people don't like that. Both officers and privates. They prefer superiors who are on the same level as them."
Well, that's slander. Almost. Actually, no, I just don't care about their opinion, in human terms. Between the core and the humans stands a social module, which turns text into speech and supplies it with various cultural elements and such. I won't argue, the result is amusing, and I like observing the process, contacting people. And among people there are more interesting ones, as well as less. But I and they are still on different sides of perception; we are not the same. However, I like Yellow, so the Avatar said something else:
"Not true. I evaluate those around me fairly, and the social module forms an attitude toward each specific person. It's just that embedding hierarchy into communication is a bit more difficult, and not always necessary. People are used to perceiving me from their own point of view and think it's because of protectionism. In fact, it's just a matter of imperfect perception. No offense, if anything—it's not even me doing it in a general sense."
Yellow chuckled.
"I understand. So, we have a new assignment. Ready?"
The Avatar shrugged.
"In the best case, three ships with energy weapons will simply carve everyone up. In the worst—the Spartans will take matters into their own hands. A suicide mission, just the way you like it. We're going in blind, but we've prepared for a possible failure too."
The pure truth; my core-self was moved to the ONI Sword Base on Reach. Dr. Catherine Halsey is working there too, on an AI project from her own clone. Moreover, it will be a modular structure, immediately improved and long-lived. The Vice Admiral heeded the warning that too much scientific personnel had accumulated on a warship, so we were scattered here and there.
The Batarians, Dr. Catherine Halsey, and I are at Sword Base; Reyes is sitting at the Sahara research base with the possessed girl. The possessed themselves are scattered across Earth, Reach, and there's one here on the ship. Officially, I am still here, in case someone tries to steal the core. Conspiracy.
"Good. I'll be in position," Yellow replied simply.
With that, the conversation ended and we went back to our business. No panic or rushing, only concerns about the FTL Drive modules assembled in a hurry. Without the help of the Geth, who gave the hulls of their dreadnoughts for help with the Quarians, this would have been impossible.
A couple of million Quarians ended up on Rannoch. The Geth dropped them off in one of the cities on an island, flew away, and pretended the Quarians didn't exist at all. Let them calm down, live in their community, and get used to the idea that no one is going to kill them, and that it's safe on Rannoch. They were left with weapons, for greater confidence. But they have enough brains not to use them for firing in all directions.
For the most part, these Quarians are those rescued from ship wrecks and the few who were initially less radical and agreed to the offer to move voluntarily. The latter even cautiously made contact with the Geth Consensus, acting as diplomats.
The Geth were pleased with this and considered our deal fulfilled, especially since analysis shows: more Creators will arrive in the future, so the process of reunification—slowly, with huge skepticism, in a sense forcibly—has begun. True, the Quarians now fear humans like fire, and quite a few eye replacement surgeries have already been performed. What matters is that upon the request to help with assembling the modules, the Geth Consensus readily agreed. Time was short, but we received ten modules.
It looks amusing. On top of the cruiser, hugging it with long legs, will be a huge mechanical insect. A kilometer long.
"I've seen this somewhere before," one of the UNSC Apollo officers remarked, looking at the prototype.
My possessed girl inquired:
"Was it a movie that started exactly the same way?"
Amidst chuckles, the officer replied:
"It was a huge black ship, looking like a squid, that hit us in the side with a huge finger. I broke my ribs from the impact. And my head throbbed for a long time after."
Yes, that really happened during the battle for the Forerunner gas station. That station is being studied by ONI precisely because of the danger of nanite infection. Moreover, production was partially started, and we gained access to large reserves of various gases, which is useful. Especially those processed on Forerunner equipment and therefore forming very interesting and useful mixtures for the production of exotic materials. Here even I have nothing special to say on the matter, as humans simply don't have such complexes; the Forerunners clearly built them for their own needs. And even half of their gas collector, after repairs, is capable of covering all of humanity's current demand with a surplus.
Shift of attention priority.
Such jumps in perception are normal for a core, many projects in different places, each led by a separate stream of consciousness. Helping Jacob on Earth with the creation of exotic materials. The man is gradually getting used to the thought that if you really want to, you can invent a lot. The main thing is to stop being afraid and courageously stick your fingers into an anomaly. We'll make new fingers if anything, and science will advance a hundred years. The man, examining the atomic lattice of Titanium-A armor, said thoughtfully:
"Dana, I am absolutely certain that we can bind additional dimensions to Titanium-A using element zero! We're repeating that test! Or at least rebuilding its lattice for even greater absorption and redistribution of energy! And you agree with this, where did the doubts even come from? And anyway, usually I'm the one in our team responsible for reason, and you say that everything is calculated and there's nothing to fear. What changed?"
I-possessed snorted.
"Working with time and dimensions is something your colleagues might not understand. They'll decide we've overread Lovecraft and are going to summon Old Gods from Slipspace. Or that our prototype has been to hell, and to see, we no longer need eyes! They'll break the equipment, just in case. They'll burn it and drown it in a tank of holy water blessed by all the cults in turn, just in case it works."
Jacob looked at the possessed girl as if she were a fool.
"Another appeal to the mass culture of the past. You know, it's a bit strange at your age. Forgive the indiscreet question, but are you from a family of hereditary aristos? I heard they are the ones who make children read such things. Sorry, if anything, but it really is strange. And anyway, who is this Lovecraft you keep mentioning?" the man clarified with suspicion.
I immediately pretended to bury myself in a tablet and sent him a document.
"Read it when you have time. The man was very fond of fractional-dimensional concepts and how they break human vision. My eyes are improved, but people might not understand. Regarding the question, hmm. We can create fractional-dimensional armor and gravitational shields, in theory. We can also rebuild the lattice in quite an original way. We need tests. Create something like gravitational plates that will deflect projectiles—active armor. Hmmm. It might work; we need to check."
But the man was clearly imbued with the spirit of an explorer.
"Well, we have a test rig we can use. So why not? I've always wanted to be a mad scientist," the man joked with a smile, "and since we're intelligence now, this is my chance!"
Quark assembly hasn't been canceled. So, hmm. We shall violate the materials scientists! With particular cynicism.
"We'll try. But you need to work on your villainous laugh," I agreed, shifting the core's focus to a new point, to another calculation stream.
On the UNSC Apollo, calm pre-battle preparation continues. The crew is preparing for possible boarding or evacuation just in case. And here I have nothing to object to; I have no idea if we'll fight them off or not. We just need to be ready for anything. The Vice Admiral continues working with papers; technicians prepare Pelicans and escape pods. Sergeants drill the soldiers, and Ajax, another AI, and I model possible scenarios.
So far, the worst of them is an ambush. If the Covenant blocks the Mass Relays, leaving through Slipspace will be difficult, and the survivors will be in transit for a very long time. The ships' autonomy will suffice—cryostasis pods haven't been canceled—but 7,200 light-years is almost a year's journey for the UNSC Apollo. Or 72 days for the Jupiter-class ships; I focus on this problem again because it exists.
Except the ships won't jump directly to human worlds because of the Cole Protocol. The Covenant can track the jump direction and try to intercept the ships or reach human worlds that way. And they will surely try to do so. Which means we add another couple of months of travel for maneuvers to the jump. There's enough range, but it's still a loss of time and a risk. An inevitable risk.
Upon arrival in the Contact System, the ships lined up, and opposite them were the FTL modules. Since these are former Geth ships, they look like huge insects. There is a head and a segmented body. Modular design.
"So, is everyone ready for the implantation of a bug that will eat our brains and control the body?" my hologram inquired.
And yes, I am quite sincere. You can't say the social module isn't me, after all. It is also part of me, like a Councilor-class AI. It's just... everything is a bit more complicated. Ajax laughed but replied:
"If someone doesn't make it, we know who's to blame."
My hologram just spread its hands.
"We worked in a hurry. That happens when you're suddenly told that instead of full testing and bug hunting, you need to assemble as many devices as possible in parallel with the tests. Military types, they're like that."
The Vice Admiral, listening to this dialogue, remarked:
"You confirmed that the mechanism works. Is that not so?"
The hologram nodded.
"They work. But to assemble the required amount of equipment, I had to negotiate with the Geth, and now I am effectively in their debt. Still, the concept of the device itself isn't that complex. Essentially, it's a standard Citadel ship; you just need a Mass Effect Core of the right size and a power source. All that is there; the technology is proven. The order was just too sudden."
To put it simply, order equipment on time; by normal methods, I wouldn't have had time to assemble the necessary gear. I don't like it when events are unpredictable. But when they are predictable too—it's just boring. And who has it easy now?
Next was the docking. The modules spread their legs, approached the human ships, and carefully hugged them around the hulls. Ten modules, ten ships. Before the battle, the modules will need to be quickly undocked, because while they are hugging the hull, they block part of the armament. The MAC is not blocked, but the turrets on two or three sides (port side, top and bottom planes) and the PKO system are partially blocked. Furthermore, raising liquid shields will be difficult. If they attack immediately upon exiting a Mass Relay, there will be problems. But for that case, we have a solution.
"It will lay metallic eggs in us, and robots will hatch," joked one of the marines, watching the docking process from the Pelican hangar.
Yellow, standing right there, glanced at me and asked:
"The Geth did give us some armament, didn't they?"
I nodded.
"They will help us with reconnaissance and a couple of nuclear missiles to clear a blockade if there is one. And a few robots on the side, fifty Sentinels. Unfortunately, the Geth's forces are also limited. They fear the Covenant might visit the Perseus Veil after the defeat is inflicted. And they've only just settled the Quarians on Rannoch. So ships for modules, reconnaissance, but from there we're on our own. I had no reason to request more."
"Well, that's not bad either," the Spartan remarked, "we often have to act with even fewer forces. And without reconnaissance."
Drack approached us.
"We'll manage. Did we take that refueling station and the Batarian cruisers by storm for nothing? We'll take everyone down and be the only ones left."
To create the right impression, we needed not only human ships but also actual Batarian ships. We captured them by storm, dragging assault drones onto the refueling station. And then the drones moved to the Batarian ships and arranged blood, guts, scattered them—one leg here, the second there. And then ordinary primitive robots were brought onto the ships. These ships will go first (after the missiles) and will be the first to join the battle, telling of the betrayal of the Batarian people in a synthesized voice. Expendables. Leaving a live crew on them is irrational. The ships are also here, standing, waiting.
And so the human cruisers set off on their first flight through a Mass Relay. The coil successfully caught ten targets, sending us into the unknown.
"If we succeed, we can arrange a raid on the Citadel," my hologram dreamily said in the Vice Admiral's office.
"Do you have actual targets?" the Vice Admiral asked sarcastically. We are sitting as three holograms with Ajax and the Black Box cube around the chief's desk.
I shrugged the hologram's shoulders.
"As if it's hard to find one. We could blow up the Batarian embassy. We'll come out of the jump, strike with the main caliber using telemetry, and leave. It will be almost safe, but epic and very humiliating for the enemy. Or the Destiny Ascension, the largest known Citadel ship. It would be an excellent demonstration of capabilities."
"Nonsense," Ajax countered, "although you're just joking, I'll comment on it anyway. We are not in the best position to pick a fight with the Citadel like that. Especially when they are afraid of sudden strikes from our side. It is irrational and we all know it. It suits us that they are wasting resources on a series of conflicts with the Covenant. If we show that the Batarians' position is justified, there will be difficulties.
Black Box agreed with this.
"It is rational to continue creating instability in the ranks of the Hegemony, supporting revolutionary sentiments. This will weaken the Batarian state and draw the Citadel into their conflict, which will neutralize the tension point through the hands of others. They should have solved this problem long ago. We see a lack of interest from the galactic state in the fate of its citizens. And general passivity. We should not copy them, Khaela."
The Vice Admiral nodded.
"True. A state must be united, strong. In the face of a threat. It is our job to maintain order within and at our borders."
The hologram pretended to roll its eyes.
"You won, I agree. Seriously though, we can reach Covenant worlds too, thanks to the Mass Relays. It will be much faster than what we can do now. This solves the mobility problem, even if partially and crudely. A frigate arrived, sent a torpedo, and left. That is the plan."
But here Ajax intervened.
"Reminder: ten minutes until the start of the first phase of the operation."
Well then, let's begin.
***
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