The news of the sudden attack on the turian colony swept through the Citadel like a magnetic storm. Of course, it reached the news agencies with nearly a week's delay, and it wasn't clear who exactly had attacked. Furthermore, the attack itself quickly became overgrown with rumors and speculation. And that only made the situation worse. The concentration of conspiracy theories simply went off the charts.
Experts of all sorts and kinds named the following as attackers: Rachni, humans, mythical Reapers, Krogan, Batarians, Geth, even Hanar. Various media outlets managed to blame everyone and anyone, except the Spectres, perhaps. Questions, misunderstanding, speculation. It was all there. The population of the Citadel simply didn't know how to react, but many were filled with fear that the situation could repeat itself, as there was no more news from the colony. And the speculation added uncertainty.
Profile structures were a completely different matter. The Council Races of the Citadel quickly found out who had attacked; by the third day, they had accurate information. The turians from the survivors of the massacre and those who had retreated through the Mass Relay. There were so many small ships that there were many who retreated and many recordings as well. Including among civilians who posted recordings on the extranet.
The Council of Matriarchs of the asari had already bought information from the Shadow Broker; the situation was discussed, and their Councilor was listening to instructions. The Matriarch spoke with extreme seriousness, saying rather strange, frightening things.
"We are ready to ensure cooperation with the Turian Hierarchy. There is every reason to believe that this is not a one-time attack; they will continue to attack nearby worlds. This means attacks on colonies will continue, and it will get worse. We need to maintain order and ensure the enemy stops within Turian Hierarchy territory. Likely, the turians will withdraw their forces from human territory. Now, that will be a wise decision. This threat is far greater than humanity. The Council of Matriarchs supports this decision."
The Councilor, surprised by the Matriarch's tone, clarified:
"Is it that serious?"
The Matriarch nodded.
"The salarians must also know at least part of the information about what happened. And their Councilor will also likely express readiness to support the Turian Hierarchy. This suits us. The enemy is technologically superior to us, Councilor. According to available data, three dozen ships ranging from cruisers to super-dreadnoughts were spotted at the colony. And there is every reason to believe that the invasion fleet will not stop until it is destroyed. And those were not all the forces that attacked. According to our data, following the assault, four-fifths of the colony's population was destroyed in less than two days. More than one hundred and fifty thousand living souls. This hasn't happened in many years."
The Councilor covered her mouth with her hands, listening in complete shock. On an official session she should...
but to keep a straight face. Here and now, she could let her emotions out.
"But where did they come from? Who are they? Why?"
The Matriarch nodded sadly. After all, the Councilor was not a warrior, but a diplomat. Such a reaction was normal. Moreover, she was quite young, almost a maiden still.
"A good question. By all appearances, they have spent the last two decades exterminating humanity. Wiping them out completely. And we, Citadel Space, have drawn their attention through our actions. Now the enemy wishes to annex us as well. Therefore, they must not be underestimated—categorically not. They have decades of combat experience and advanced technology. Perhaps we have found new Rachni who rely on machinery rather than biotechnology. One way or another, this fleet must be dealt with, and if the Turian Hierarchy is ready to take the blow, we should provide them with support. It is better than if the Asari Republics takes the hit. We will help them fight and win."
The Councilor bowed slightly.
"I understand, Matriarch."
For the Salarians, the situation turned out to be more complicated. Yes, the STG had previously found a scorched world, but they had no idea who exactly had done such a thing to the planet or why. The fact that their agents (as well as the Shadow Broker) managed to obtain a recording of the battle almost simultaneously with the Turian Hierarchy on Palaven changed nothing.
This did not look like Human forces, nor like the robot armies of the Ringworld. It was another power that no one had encountered before. And that was strange.
Looking at the intelligence data, one could notice an interesting pattern: the galactic arm inhabited by Humans had been completely isolated for a long time. There are several places in the galaxy where you are strongly advised not to fly. For example, the Mass Relay located near Omega Station. It is red, and not a single ship that went beyond it has returned.
With the sector of the galaxy where Humans lived, it was both simpler and more complex. After the Rachni Wars, the activation of Mass Relays was prohibited, but even so, military captains knew of the existence of a "blockade." The sector of Humans, located between the territories of the Batarians and Turians, had also become a dead zone. It was impossible to get there; attempts to use certain Mass Relays resulted in the disappearance of ships.
After the appearance of Humans, Salarian scouts conducted repeat tests, crossing this territory peacefully. Whatever had been destroying the ships stopped doing so with the appearance of Humans. And now it turns out that in this region, there has been a whole cluster of races all this time. Perhaps smaller than what the Citadel knows, but we are talking about comparing the galaxy to a single galactic arm. It is shocking.
Where did the idea come from that the attackers came from the same region as the Humans? Well, where else? Human colonies are being cracked open, a dense conflict between Humans and Turians begins, and then this fleet appears. So, who is to blame is quite obvious.
Hence the next question: what to do about it? The Turians will have to react, that much is clear. As is the fact that to repel a fleet like the one that attacked, they will pull forces away from patrolling Citadel Space and from the borders of Human territory. This will lead to instability in many regions. In the Traverse, the Terminus Systems. An increase in arms trafficking, perhaps the activation of PMCs. Unacceptable. Moreover, the Turians will need scouts.
And then there are the Humans... It seems the STG will have to plug the holes behind the Turian Hierarchy. We must ensure that the Humans do not take advantage of the opportunity.
The Turian Hierarchy itself focused on two things: concentrating forces and convincing their colleagues on the Council. And the Councilor was extremely surprised by the ease with which his colleagues responded to the call for help. Both of them.
"The Salarians will deploy forces to replace Turian Hierarchy troops in patrols and prevent instability. We are ready to provide you with ships, scouts, and equipment, but the details should be discussed with the Dalatress. You know that I am merely a mediator."
The Asari also agreed on their own.
"Such brutality is monstrous and must be stopped. The Council of Matriarchs will announce a tender for the provision of military aid. Ships will be allocated to you."
A tender meant that corporations would be involved, financed by the Matriarchs. Given that such a thing as state property almost doesn't exist among the Asari, it was not surprising. Just as much as the Turian Hierarchy is oriented toward militarism and military contracts, the Asari use privateers for everything, including the army. Perhaps only the heavy fleet is funded from the budget, but even then, not entirely. And yet... it all went too easily.
"You know something. Salarians, Asari."
The Asari Councilor took offense:
"Enough to understand the seriousness of the threat, Councilor. And it's not just about new enemies, but about instability in the galaxy."
The Salarian nodded.
"Exactly so. Gathering information and countermeasures. I think we should study Human stationary weaponry. Perhaps conduct a reconnaissance-in-force or negotiate."
The Turian was surprised.
"Are you seriously suggesting that instead of concentrating forces, we attack Humans and hunt pirates? We are talking about forces inflicting enormous damage, and we have no idea where the next strike will fall."
The Asari Councilor exchanged a look with the Salarian. And said as softly as possible:
"You are forgetting two things, colleague. Firstly, the Turian Hierarchy's light fleet has been significantly thinned out. This means pirates, including Batarian ones, gangs, and Terminus PMCs will be most active. Including complicating logistics.
Secondly, the Humans. For them, this is also an opportunity, when Turian Hierarchy troops are needed specifically in your systems. No, we are ready to form a support fleet, but the Turian Hierarchy's heavy fleet is the largest of ours, and the best we can do is use light forces to compensate for the losses. And no, you will receive heavy ships as well. It's just that this isn't the only important task."
"To maintain order," the Salarian added, "the main thing in waging war is the combination of army, logistics, and order. The Batarians were deeply insulted by what happened and might stab us in the back. This cannot be allowed. Just like the Humans. We cannot allow them to decide that the Citadel is weak. Unacceptable."
There was logic in this. The galaxy only looks like a peaceful place, but in fact, it is not. Yes, the Council has dominance in forces of any class, but the galaxy is truly large.
The Terminus Systems exist not only because it is economically advantageous. But also because all the dissatisfied conveniently migrate there. The Attic Traverse is protected primarily not by Dreadnoughts, of which there are quite few, but by light forces, and their enemies—pirates and PMCs—also use a fleet that is not the most powerful but is numerous. A significant part of which perished at the colony. This means the Traverse could quickly become a zone of instability, which cannot be allowed. Just like the insolence of the Batarians, known for their pirates.
As for the Asari, from the few testimonies of survivors from the colony, the enemy did not withstand Biotics very well. Just like the Humans. It seems there are no biotics in their region. Asari Commandos will be extremely effective. Which the Turian noted.
"Asari biotics will be required as soon as possible. The enemy resists them very poorly; this will help strengthen the troops."
The Councilor nodded.
"I will inform the Matriarchs. It would be wise to conduct an exchange of intelligence; perhaps together we can understand something. Something we haven't noticed."
This decision was met unanimously. Which again confirms they know more than they are saying. Which is also not surprising; every state has its secrets, and the Councilors embody them.
"We can use mercenaries. Not in the battle fleet, but as infantry," the Salarian remarked.
The Turian Councilor shook his head.
"If they are being incinerated from the air, mercenaries won't be of much help. But I will still pass it on to the Primarch. Right now, we will need every ship possible."
And again, the other Councilors agreed very easily, promising to clarify and then get in touch.
"It would be better if you form specific requests and pass them to us. This would facilitate the gathering of aid."
The Turian nodded.
"That is in progress. Preliminary agreements are expected from me."
"You have them," the Salarian informed, "the situation is extremely serious. It will likely require the exertion of all our forces for victory."
***
Khaela, Cruiser UNSC Apollo. Earth Orbit.
The Avatar temporarily resides at the "Eye of Zeus" facility. That is what the Humans named the portal to The Ark that they are excavating.
They chose an interesting methodology: they are digging a quarry, but not all the way. So that the Forerunner structure, which is a thirty-five-kilometer disk with half-kilometer projector blades around the perimeter, remains buried and is not detectable from the air. They dug several passages for research groups, but overall the object is still hidden under several meters of soil in the eastern part. The western part is still under the city, which is in the process of being evacuated. According to the schedule, work will be finished in about a year and a half. There is no talk of greater precision; the human factor has not been eliminated.
The Avatar is acting as an observer for the research group, a controller from ONI. And an opportunity to personally look at the portal's mechanisms. Like other Forerunner technology, as long as the device has power, the nanocoating will repair the device. Therefore, the structure looks like new, even though tens of thousands of years have passed.
In other respects, I am surrounded by typical Forerunner architecture. High doors allowing their three-to-four-meter bodies and constructs to pass freely. Gray walls with generous lighting and service robots ignoring the Humans. And holograms as control panels. Everything is familiar. All of this has happened before.
True, they didn't let me connect and dig around in their systems. Well, whatever, later.
On Reach, everything is also generally fine. The boss is in contact via the quantum channel, Black Box is still in place, as are other AIs and observers. So even our absence for more than two months has not created any problems. In the end, they managed when the speed of ships was 2 light years per day; they are managing now.
The Core, in operational mode, processes current projects, mainly loading the experimental AIs with data that have undergone "treatment." The first pair of subjects could not withstand the loads and suffered critical matrix damage. After all, attempting to carefully introduce changes into a developed analogue of a human brain is a risk. But we knew from the start it would be like this. We need to develop a methodology, and it will be easier. That's what the subjects are for.
Suslikov is being driven by Yellow (Spartan), who gave the guy the nickname... Cuckoldun (Nickname). I don't know how to comment on that. But he definitely doesn't like this scrap of a Spartan. To my direct question, he explained:
"A Spartan, in your language, is a brand. Ten years of training, geniuses, the best of the best in the best armor. We earned all this with sweat, blood, and skills," then he pointed at Suslikov, who was trying to navigate an obstacle course under fire from a squad of soldiers with training weapons, "and this? If you call every body a Spartan, he won't become worthy of that name. Right now, he is dirt underfoot, nothing more."
Pink (Spartan), Kitty (Spartan), treats the guy generally the same way. A fan of cat ears on all her suits (and who felt up mine), she perceives the cadet even worse than the Marines. However, that's not my problem.
And our new technician is blending into the team; it will take some time, right now he is more getting into the swing of things than occupied with something new. I haven't even shown him our plasma container yet; let him get used to the position. Let's say, for the next month. Then projects, and even more projects.
"Khaela, to the office!"
The Vice Admiral needed something and simply ordered into the air. The projector ball formed a hologram figure. A small one, about twenty centimeters, right behind the tablet, but not peeking.
"I am here, Vice Admiral."
She is clearly pensive, reading something. The Vice Admiral's usual state in a non-combat setting. A lot of documents.
"How many SSGraPT can you build in the next thirty days?"
I answered immediately. After all, the torpedo project is a priority.
"Zero," and to the raised eyebrow, I explained, "we have two prototypes being finalized, the hangar has been turned into a workshop where robots and technical teams work in their spare time. This is not an assembly line, plus space is limited. Therefore, zero, Vice Admiral. There are enough critical structural elements for two more. Actually, the Geth are also keeping them partially disassembled while we jointly refine the device. Therefore, zero."
The Vice Admiral listened in silence.
"And if you are given control of an assembly cell at one of the shipyards? A small one, for escorts."
The Avatar twitched, waving all its fluffiness to express surprise. I am extremely restricted in my interaction with technology. I won't be doing the assembly myself; I'll delegate the task to a junior. And the junior, using the shipyard's network, could write viruses or rewrite software for my needs. Even if the cell itself is isolated, robots will participate in the work, which could assemble a relay or a connection. So this is a massive gesture of goodwill. Even if the Vice Admiral doesn't understand what she is doing, the AIs and specialized professionals are simply obligated to explain to her the full danger of such a decision. And yet, she made it. And this confirms the scale of the problems I don't know about. So the hologram grew to full size, sat down, and said:
"That is a lot of trust, Vice Admiral. Unexpected."
She just waved it off.
"We have problems. Rumors are circulating on the Extranet that the Turians fighting us in the Contact (System) region, where skirmishes occur regularly, have been attacked. Ajax, show her."
So, let's see. News. Conspiracy theories. Blurry images. Very familiar ship shapes.
"The Covenant?"
Ajax nodded, and the Vice Admiral remarked:
"You know as well as I do what a security hole their Mass Relay system is. And right here, in the Sol System, there is a Mass Relay. If we are conducting mapping with scout ships, then The Covenant can too. We need to ensure that no guests appear in this system who could lead The Covenant to the very heart of Humanity. As quickly as possible. Questions?"
The Avatar pondered while the Core tried to calculate the situation...
"Insufficient data, Vice Admiral. The Mass Relay is well-shielded; its capabilities are unknown. But Pluto is located far enough away that even the explosion of a small star wouldn't hit anything critical. Right now, its orbit lies far from the other planets. Neptune or Saturn might suffer, but only residually—too far. And yes, if I have a shipyard assembly line, we can assemble four torpedoes in total. I assume other Mass Relays will also be knocked out?"
The woman nodded in agreement.
"As ammunition is prepared. The Sol System is an absolute priority. Furthermore, two torpedoes each should be prepared for Reach and Earth. In case of an attack."
Hmmmmmmmmmmm. This is difficult.
"This won't be easy, Vice Admiral. We have a limited number of components. And we still don't know how much ammunition will be required for a Mass Relay and what the consequences will be."
At this, the woman waved it off.
"There is no time. They could start looking for us at any moment, which means you assemble those two torpedoes and prepare them for launch. We will conduct field tests. As soon as The Covenant realizes that a Mass Relay can be used to easily and quickly find Earth... We don't have the right to give them that chance, and you know it. Get to work; report when ready. As quickly as possible. This is a top-priority task; ignore everything else until it's done."
The hologram nodded.
"It will be done, Vice Admiral."
Blowing up a Mass Relay could be a very good recommendation. But everything needs to be done perfectly.
***
Five light-minutes from Pluto. One week later.
A frigate hung in the darkness of space. Right now, it was the only ship in this part of space; the research group had been completely evacuated, as had some of the bases from Neptune and Saturn, as potential targets. This required hellish effort, but better that than counting corpses. Democritus Station in orbit of Pluto, which was used for tracking Slipspace, was also completely evacuated. By all calculations, it won't survive a hit.
Pluto is an interesting world in general. While the other planets are located in one plane, this dwarf world is at an angle, and its orbit is not a circle but an elongated ellipse. This makes any experiments with it quite safe. For the danger to become real, a black hole would have to open at the site of the Mass Relay, and even Mendicant Bias isn't sure about that. There is a risk, of course. But a minimal one.
The frigate itself stopped far enough from the target to have time to retreat. Well, the space around the Mass Relay (the moon Charon, a massive block of ice) was seeded with sensors to track the process somehow. Everyone involved hopes it works, even if not everyone knows why they are doing it. But blowing up a massive alien installation sounds like something unequivocally important.
Two fifty-meter missiles were attached to the half-kilometer ship in a crude suspension. White, of a somewhat unusual design, with thickenings along the entire hull. None of the crew had ever seen such projectiles. But they are too professional to ask ONI questions. So they are acting according to protocol.
"Frigate UNSC Samsara on position."
"Copy, UNSC Samsara. Evacuation complete. Sensors... um, normal. We are ready. You may begin."
"Understood, MCC. We are starting. Phase one."
The frigate began working its maneuvering thrusters, aiming toward Pluto—more precisely, its moon, Charon. Simultaneously, power began pumping for the Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine to leave after the launch.
Next, two missiles detached from the gray hull, maneuvering with their own engines. The ship and the missiles began to rapidly increase the distance between them. The ship turned toward Jupiter, while the missiles froze half a kilometer from each other, aimed at a single point. Excellent, everything according to plan.
"UNSC Samsara to MCC. Phase one complete. Everything is normal. Missiles on position, response normal. Target—locked. Course plotted. Frigate engine charging in progress. Ready to continue. How do you copy?"
The dispatcher's voice from the quantum beacon replied:
"Copy, frigate. Everything is in the green on our end. Begin phase two."
"Copy, starting."
The frigate carefully steered away from the missiles, gaining distance and turning around. The missiles themselves, surrounded by a targeting block, remained on course. The ship's main engines engaged, picking up speed.
"UNSC Samsara to MCC. We are ready for launch."
"Copy that. Begin."
A few seconds later, the missiles' engines emitted a pillar of blue flame, and then they simply disappeared in a flash, barely accelerating. That was it. Now it was time for the frigate to leave before they arrived. Who knows what will happen next.
"Missiles away."
"Copy. Phase two complete. Beginning phase three. Withdraw to the evacuation point."
The ship continued to accelerate in the void of space until it reached the required speed.
"Copy, MCC. We are ready. Jump in five, four, three, two, one."
Now, in a bright flash of Slipspace, the frigate also disappeared. Silence and void returned to space.
Three minutes later, the fork of the Mass Relay, simply vaporizing the ice sheet into nothingness, was struck by two flashes that merged into one. The strike occurred at an angle, after which a bright cone of light swallowed the upper part of the installation and passed right through Charon. The dazzling cone, like the light of a star, cleanly sheared off the top of the Mass Relay and left a cyclopean circular trail on the planet behind it. The second missile's light stream ground down half of the device's rings, shattering the ice block into pieces, forcing it to crumple inward under the force of gravity.
The ice was partially melted, partially scattered; it quickly evaporated from the radiating energy, turning immediately into a gas cloud no longer able to hide the colossal mechanism. The remaining pieces, like asteroids, sprayed in all directions in a secondary explosion of gases.
The Mass Relay was not active, but a small sun ignited within it anyway. The rings began to rotate as the mechanism tried to stabilize itself, unsuccessfully. The rings began to break apart and fly off to the side. Space began to tremble as the small sun grew larger and larger, deprived of its limiters.
A wave of gravitons struck like a massive fist, knocking chunks the size of a small continent out of Pluto. The Mass Relay itself was thrown toward deep space by a reverse impulse. But that was not the end. Smaller objects, like pieces of Charon's ice, were shot out or smashed into dust as huge whips of anomalies began to break out in all directions. The observation station was crumpled like an empty can just by the edge of such an anomaly.
The Mass Relay became unstable; the sun inside it seemed to darken, and around it, in clouds, whips, regions, and simple streams, waves of gravitons began to strike, crushing matter around it for millions of kilometers in a random fashion. A chunk was knocked out of Pluto, which would become its new artificial satellite or a twin planet if it held on. One of the satellites, Nix, was shot into deep space.
Saturn was literally sliced, but its gaseous structure prevented serious damage. It just left a gas trail and the radius decreased slightly. Of course, the stations around the planet took a hit, but not all and not critically. Regardless, the development of Saturn was not that high—more of a tourist object than a military one. They can be restored or rebuilt.
The sensors were wiped out almost to zero. The uncontrolled gravity spikes of the collapsing and destructive Mass Relay flattened fragile equipment just in passing.
Neptune was sliced exactly in half. However, after a few hours, the planet merged back together, causing cataclysms never before seen in this cold world. A few more strikes hit other places. But still, Pluto's distance from everything else and the fact that the destruction happened gradually played its part.
Ultimately, the Mass Relay disintegrated. But it was impossible to approach it to extract the Element Zero; the core is still receiving some energy, and according to preliminary analysis, anomalies will appear for about another month, then gradually fade away. Especially since the installation destroyed itself, simply losing stability.
In the MCC, they watched, cursed, prayed, and were quietly losing their minds.
"Aaaa, what was that?" someone asked on the general channel.
"An explosion," someone from the frigate replied philosophically. The ship had exited Slipspace near Jupiter and managed to catch a glimpse.
"No, I get that. Но did you see how it went through Saturn? Like the gas cap was blown off it. That's... insane. There were a bunch of stations there."
A third voice cut in.
"They were evacuated in advance. The process is within expected parameters."
Now even the dispatcher was surprised.
"That's some 'within expected parameters.' And who are you, by the way, and what are you doing on the channel?"
No, it's clear who. But according to the rules, you have to clarify.
"ONI," the voice replied, "this is our project. Everything you saw is strictly classified. UNSC Samsara, surrender all recordings. A full audit will be conducted. You have been warned."
Only pain was audible in the reply.
"Such a thing... That's scientific work there. Or the biggest and coolest explosion ever committed. That thing was tearing planets like it was knocking snow caps off machinery after a snowfall. Or butter being cut by a knife. Only because there wasn't a planet nearby... By the way, is Pluto still with us?"
"That's why it's classified."
Pluto had been hit several times and was close to the epicenter of the detonation. And here you can't tell what's scarier: a machine that tears apart everything within a radius of light-minutes—almost all sensors died—or the missiles used to provoke such a thing.
"We'll find out. Now, silence on the channel. Get to work."
"(Sigh). Yes, sir."
Pluto broke into several smaller pieces, which eventually stuck back together into a planet. The Charon Mass Relay ceased to exist. Its pair turned red, signaling the danger of using the device.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan