- Chapter 2

Gredeneer the True, a prominent figure within the Quelix political landscape and certain military domains, is reputed for employing coercive strategies to secure unwavering loyalty among members of political parties and military leadership. His unwavering loyalty to the Imperator played a pivotal role in ensuring stability and control, particularly following the period of unification.

One of his most notable feats was successfully thwarting the Anoian offensive and defending the Conflida-roy region from Anoian claws. His strategic acumen, demonstrated by his successful thwarting of the Anoian offensive, averted a potential crisis and protected Quelix's borders.

Gredeneer's impact transcended the confines of the battlefield. His adept maneuvering within Quelix's intricate political circles empowered him to shape pivotal policies, including the Treaty of Eldoria. Through strategic alliances with neighboring Dynasties, he fostered an environment of tranquility and cooperation. Notably, the treaty unequivocally bars mercenaries and corporations from possessing privately owned battleships, leaving no room for exceptions.

He ought not to find himself in the middle of nowhere, probing into suspicions of Anoian activity. He ought not to be here investigating something that could be managed by a lower-ranking soldier. His orders dictate the activation of seeker protocols upon engagement or upon detecting any signs of Anoian origin.

"Seeker Protocols," Gredeneer muttered, his eyes narrowing. The Imperator's orders hung heavy in the air, like a blade poised to strike. But Gredeneer was no mere pawn; he saw beyond the tactical chessboard. The protocols were a double-edged sword, by prioritizing the acquisition of more strategically feasible methods of deterrence, planets are left under-defended and with a shortage of Manpower. An intricate performance of concealed information and obscured figures.

While the imperator insists on activating Seeker Protocols for deterrence, Gredeneer the True, advocates for a more assertive and proactive strategy to directly confront and neutralize potential threats, deviating from the traditional defensive stance... The recent surge in Anoian confidence, marked by audacious offensives and hit-and-run tactics on under-defended border worlds, has raised concerns. With our losses reaching unsustainable levels, we were compelled to retreat and cede territory to prevent further casualties and strategic setbacks. Although their tactical prowess has enabled them to regain lost territory, Gredenner doubts the sustainability of their control in the region. Perhaps a shift in strategy is indeed warranted to safeguard against further losses. The Dynasty will prevail!

...

"Sir," the officer's voice crackled over the intercom, "there is anomalous activity near the planet's moon. It appears to be of Eezo in origin, emitting a significant amount of Element Zero. These emissions are typically associated with ships burning excess radiation from their hulls."

Gredenner, the seasoned commander, snapped out of his contemplation. His furrowed brows betrayed his concern. "Anoians?" he questioned darkly. Disregarding the officer's affront to his intellect, he comprehends the significance of these emissions!

"If these are Anoian signatures, they're unlike any we've encountered before." The officer responded, glancing up from his console and activating his wrist Communicator. He then requested a thorough scan of the signatures detected by their sensors. "I've just ordered a deeper scan of the signatures. It could either confirm or deny Anoian presence."

Gredeneer's affirmative reply was resolute. The Imperator's suspicions were well-founded—a clandestine Anoian operation in this sector would open an additional front, exposing a vulnerability ripe for exploitation by the Confederation, given the effective blockade of the western front by the defensive wall. He weighed his options: communicate with the trespassing vessel(?) or follow the Imperator's orders to the letter. Ultimately, duty prevailed. Seeker protocols would be activated, and Gredeneer would carry out the Imperator's will, no matter the cost.

...

Citadel council (C.E - 2175)

The Human System Alliance, despite its recent emergence in the galactic arena, established contact with the Citadel Council a mere 18 years ago. Furthermore, their discovery of eezo, nearly a decade prior to that, has propelled them toward significant advancements in both technology and economic influence within the council. Rapidly, the Human System Alliance is establishing colonies in the Terminus Systems, an anarchic and autonomous region of space unclaimed and unregulated by the council. The council, in a gesture of goodwill, granted them colonization rights to the region, much to the chagrin of the Batarian Hegemony.

...

David Mulcher, a redeemable man leading an ordinary life, was recruited into the marines at a young age. Ostensibly, this recruitment aimed to bolster the military's ranks. However, the true purpose was to provide a smokescreen for the accelerated production of destructive weapons following First Contact. The mass recruitment served as a distraction, burying secret motives and nefarious projects within a mountain of bureaucratic paperwork. By inundating the system with red tape, military projects could be approved swiftly and remain inconspicuous to public scrutiny. Meanwhile, the press and other organizations were preoccupied with the contact situation and the surge in enlistments.

During his tenure in the marines, David carried out various duties for the alliance. These tasks included patrolling the alliance's borders, defending against Terminus incursions, and occasionally taking respite at the local bar. His coworkers—more acquaintances than friends—often probed him about his family. "Why don't you visit them?" they would ask. Or "Why doesn't your family come to see you?" David rarely offered a candid response. The truth was that he and his family did not see eye to eye. They disapproved of his decision to join the military, while he resented their attempts to confine him like a caged animal. It was not that he disliked his family; they were simply too overwhelming for him. Their interactions usually devolved into shouting matches over long-past grievances.

David Mulcher found himself assigned to a task that straddled the line between annoyance and necessity. Guard duty—simple in concept, yet irksome in practice—was his current responsibility. Alongside his crew of seasoned comrades (whom he affectionately referred to as "old smelly cows"), David had been recruited by a Volus expeditionary force. Their ostensible purpose? To explore "new and undiscovered locations of wealth beyond Volus space." However, David harbored doubts about this official explanation.

His experiences in Council space and the tidbits he'd gleaned from the extranet painted a different picture of the Volus. These stocky, profit-driven beings were shrewd and cunning, perpetually seeking opportunities for financial gain. Perhaps it bordered on generalized racism, but David couldn't shake the suspicion that their true motives were less noble than advertised.

The planet of his birth lay perilously close to the Terminus systems—a region notorious for lawlessness and danger. Although his parents had relocated to Earth when he was just eight years old, the haunting memories of slaver raids still lingered. Those traumatic events had etched themselves into his consciousness, leaving scars that time just couldn't erase.

...

David's thoughts were abruptly shattered as the ship's klaxons blared, their wailing sirens deafening. The bridge lights flashed, momentarily blinding him. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the bridge, jostling crew members—his fellow "old smelly cows"—out of his path.

As he reached the bridge doors, his voice erupted, almost involuntarily. "Carl, what's the situation?"

Carl's response was swift and concise. "Ships spotted 13303 kilometers (A.N: about 8266.1 mi) south, on the opposite side of the star. Unknown signatures, no recognizable Council ship designs." Carl's gaze locked onto David. "The Volus demand an update. What should we tell them?"

David's resolve solidified. "Ignore them for now. We must identify these ships—determine if they're hostile or friendly. Only then will we inform the Volus of the situation. While they search for their supposed wealth on the surface, we'll handle the real work up here!"

Before they could gather more information about the situation, their consoles were inundated with junk data of unknown origin. A recruit named Josh, his voice edged with panic, shouted, "CYBER ATTACK!" The officers at their desks scrambled to restore their systems, attempting to bring them back online. But even as they grappled with the viral intrusion, the unidentified ships sprang into motion, aligning themselves in an unknown formation.

From the glitchy sensors aboard his ship, David discerned an enigmatic formation: a rectangular-circle hybrid. The glitch-induced uncertainty made it difficult to analyze further, but the formation appeared vulnerable. Its underbelly seemed ripe for exploitation. Yet, before he could fully process this tactical advantage, the alien ships sprang into action.

In unison, the alien ships activated a peculiar shield. Its kinetic nature caused it to unfurl like a blooming flower, enveloping the entire fleet. These "petals" converged at the center, encasing each independent ship. Any immediate attack seemed futile against this intricate defense.

Their strategy became clear: breach the 'outer layer' of shields, then penetrate the individual 'inner layer' shields protecting each ship. However, their systems remained offline, rendering such an endeavor impossible.

And with synchronized precision, the alien ships surged forward.

David knew no more.

...

(A.C- 2426)

Gredenner's compound eyes widened in surprise. Upon locating the source of the Eezo emissions and confirming the alien ships' supposed Anoian origin, Gredenner swiftly initiated the seeker protocols. Electromagnetic beams pierced the alien vessels' systems, severing connections to their firing consoles. Reverse-engineered Anoian viruses infiltrated their communication networks, causing havoc in their sensor systems.

The Nebula-class Cruiser sprang into action, activating its 'blooming' shield systems. These interconnected all outer layer shields, expanded outwards to encase the entire fleet in kinetic-plasma protection. Once the operation concluded, inner shields erupted from the independent ships like petals unfurling. Each ship became cocooned within this intricate defense, the glimmering connection between the inner layer shields fortifying their resilience.

Gredenner's claw snatched a key presented by a colleague, swiftly inserting it into a console. The Intangibility A.L.F (Allow-Live-Fire) Shields activated, enabling weapons to be fired from behind the kinetic-plasma cover. His mandibles retracted, forming a chilling smile. "Fire," he ordered, his voice devoid of warmth or hesitation.

The alien ships crumbled with surprising ease, leaving Gredenner and his crew dumbfounded. Just as he was about to question whether this was an Anoian trap, his outspoken colleague Riqui the Direct, clad in luxurious attire, interjected. His voice trembled with fear as he uttered, "Sir, I don't believe these are Anoian vessels." Gredenner winced at the tone. Riqui pressed on, "Their destruction was too effortless, their tactics laughable, and their shields… easily pierced." A grimace crossed Riqui's face. "This first contact has gone horribly awry—perhaps worse than dealing with those foolish Anoians."

...

Gredenner seethed with fury! These bumbling generals—excluding Riqui, of course—had committed a grave error. How could they mistake these emissions for Anoian in origin? The report now clutched in his claws clearly indicated that these were foreign emissions. His entire body trembled with rage. This was precisely why you never entrusted crucial tasks to incompetents. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to calm down.

I need to fix this he thought somberly, the imperator will not be pleased.

"Are there any survivors?" he inquired of his crew. The responses were uniformly negative. Just as he was about to relay the disastrous news to the Imperator via his communicator, an unexpected voice crackled over the intercom.

"We have confirmed a life sign. Repeat, we have confirmed a life sign."

Without hesitation, Gredenner barked his orders. "Collect the survivor!" His urgency echoed through the ship, a desperate attempt to rectify the situation before it spiraled further out of control.

...

David stirred groggily, his head throbbing. The harsh light seared his eyes, making it difficult to focus. Pain radiated throughout his body, rendering even the simplest movements a challenge.

"Where am I?" he wondered, surveying the opulent room. If one word could encapsulate his surroundings, it would be luxurious. Gold-plated walls adorned the space, and the bed beneath him cradled him in softness. The pillows were fluffed to perfection, and the polished floors gleamed with meticulous care. Yet, beneath this veneer of luxury, he sensed something amiss—a hidden truth. Prison. The realization hit him like a physical blow. Cuffs, tight and unyielding, clung to his limbs. An invisible barrier sealed the exit doors, trapping him within this gilded cage.

...

David's senses were on high alert as he heard a distinct clicking sound. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the source, but it wasn't coming from within. Suddenly, the barrier vanished, the door swung open, and a regal figure stepped into view. The alien was resplendent in luxurious clothing adorned with sparkling gems. Its insect-like eyes perched atop a bony skull, while its human-like legs shimmered with chitinous plating. Intricate tattoos adorned its arms, marking it as someone of significance. The alien swaggered forward, flanked by guards who moved with precision.

Stopping beside David's bedside, the alien deftly attached a device to the side of its circular like head. A communication aid, perhaps? The alien spoke in a grating language, causing David to wince—not from disgust, but from the sheer volume. The alien noticed his discomfort and adjusted something on the device. It repeated its words, this time pointing a serrated claw at David.

Ah, David recognized this. On the extranet, he had seen similar gestures used to initiate language translation. Might as well give it a shot. He cleared his throat and addressed the alien, "My name is David Mulcher, and I come from the Systems Alliance." His smile was grim; he remained acutely aware that he was still a prisoner in this encounter.

...

Gredenner's thoughts dripped with disdain as it regarded the alien before it. How foolish this creature seemed, yapping away in its incomprehensible language. How many beings existed that remained ignorant of the goddess's exquisite beauty? Apparently, more than just the Anoians.

When the survivors from the alien wreckage were brought onboard, a revelation struck us like a bolt of lightning: these aliens were eerily similar to the Anoians! No sense of fashion to speak of, no shimmering gold or precious gems. It was baffling. What manner of beings were these? We wondered; our curiosity piqued by their stark simplicity.

Gredenner had reached his limit. He spoke, hoping the translator would function for this unfashionable being. Perhaps then, he could rectify his incompetent general's blunder. "Do you understand me, you unfashionable fool?"

The being's head snapped around to face him, confirming that the translator was indeed functional. "Hmm, it seems you do," Gredenner Mumbled.

Breaking out of his stupor, the being asked, "Who are you?"

Gredenner decided to answer the fool. "We are the Quelix from the Quelix Dynasty," he said, reigning in his pride and bowing apologetically. "And we apologize for the destruction of your fleet." His tone carried its usual mocking edge, but beneath it lay a hint of guilt.

The being did not seem to notice the mocking edge to his voice, or if he did, he did not show it.

"And you?" Gredenner inquired, believing it only fair that if he had introduced himself to this lower being, the being should reciprocate. "Uh, okay. My name is David Mulcher of the Human Systems Alliance," the being replied with a smile.

"Human? What kind of Species name is that?" One of Gredenner's colleagues blurted out, the very one responsible for this chaotic situation. The being appeared offended. Gredenner shot a withering glare at the incompetent general. "Shut your mandibles, you incompetent fool," he snapped. "You are the reason we find ourselves in this mess. If you don't have anything helpful to say, keep your thoughts to yourself."

...

With the general cowed and the Bei-human seeming to relax, he spoke, "Anyways, would it be possible for you to contact someone higher up in—"

But the human interrupted him. "The volus, are they okay?" The human's voice carried a hint of concern, as if remembering his volus friends. "Those bastards, they better not have scurried off." His eyes narrowed at the thought.

Gredenner was perplexed, glancing at his colleagues—excluding the incompetent fool—for assistance. He inquired if there was something wrong with his translator. "It appears there is no malfunction with the translator, sir," they assured him. Returning his attention to the human, he asked, still puzzled, "Volus?"

The human, seemingly recalling that he had company, turned toward them. "The volus are our contractors," he explained. "They hired us to guard their 'business' on the planet while we protected them from pirates. If I remember correctly, they had a ship."

Timeline...Time skip

(A.C)2426/ (C.E)2175 – The Quelix established contact with humans in a disastrous manner, concealing their ongoing war with the Anoians. Meanwhile, the volus—those slippery creatures—swiftly vanished when they realized their human guards had been obliterated by pirates (or so the story goes).

(A.C)2427/ (C.E)2176 – In the wake of David Mulcher's revelation about contact with the Quelix, the humans found themselves treaty-bound to inform the council. The Quelix, embroiled in their ongoing war with the Anoians, received a summons from the Citadel. Their delegation was slated to appear on the Citadel in the year 2177 C.E.