Author's Note:
Last Friday I had several strokes of luck.
I met Constantin Popovici at one of my university lectures; not being a big sports fan, I'll leave the bragging rights to others about having his autograph.
Plus, I passed a pop quiz. I'm a pessimist and always tend to underestimate myself, forgetting that I'm one of the best students in the class.
Finally, I finally treated myself to that burger I'd been promising myself for a long time.
But enough chit-chat: I hope you enjoy this chapter, because it took me a while to find the right inspiration!
XXX
Story Arc: First Contact with a Rogue Trader Militant
Episode 1: The Supercarrier Moonbreaker (IV)
Chapter 4: Collaboration: Yes or No?
Plot: The crew of the SSV Tokyo finds themselves in a desperate situation from which there seems no way out. Just when all hope seems lost, the humans receive a transmission from the supercarrier Moonbreaker, offering them a choice...
XXX
POV Narrator
The atmosphere on the bridge of the SSV Tokyo was tense; everyone present felt an invisible weight weighing on them.
Only a madman detached from reality or a hopeless idiot would not feel anxious when faced with such a situation.
Captain Anderson and his XO, Aiden Shepard, two of the finest of the old and new generations, were facing difficulties for which they had not been prepared.
The entire crew of the SSV Tokyo had witnessed the arrival of the largest Starship ever and what looked like the alien equivalent of a portable Mass Relay.
Their attempt to make First Contact was met with a cyberattack; then, through the opening of several portals, other Starships emerged.
In short, the patrol force led by Captain Anderson was completely paralyzed, unable to move or communicate, overshadowed by a monstrously large and fearsome vessel.
A little mouse in front of an Argentinosaurus.
"Just one more second... I'm almost there," Aiden Shepard growled, his concentration at the limit.
His fingers danced frantically across the holographic interface of his Omni-tool, which emitted short, bluish bursts.
To bypass his own ship's security locks, Aiden was drawing not only on tricks he'd learned at N-School, but also on ones from his old days in Chicago.
In a sense, it was a return to basics: using the ingenuity of a hacker and car thief to bypass the technological interface, rendered unusable by the cyberattack.
Aiden felt like he was rebuilding a computer without a keyboard or screen; an impossible task for anyone, but not for him. It was just damn complicated and wouldn't be quick at all.
With a metallic click and a hiss of compressed air, the control room hatch swung open a few centimeters.
We've made a breakthrough!' Aiden Shepard exclaimed, confident that he would soon be able to force it completely.
Around him, the SSV Tokyo's bridge had sunk into the methodical chaos of an emergency workshop.
The few engineering officers present, along with anyone who knew anything about maintenance, were hunched over their consoles. Among torn panels and tangles of exposed cables, they were trying to use their Omni-tools as best they could.
Captain Anderson, looking around, realized that he was no longer steering a military vessel on a mission: he was trapped in an iron tomb.
Its crew was trying to revive the SSV Tokyo using only their bare hands, Omni-tools, and a whole lot of luck.
At that moment, an outside observer could have sworn with his hand on his heart that the bridge resembled a suburban garage, where amateur mechanics were trying to decipher the workings of an alien engine.
It was a depressing metaphor that, Captain Anderson was sure, would also perfectly describe the confusion that the Citadel's politicians would face in the future.
At least his protégé, Shepard, had managed to make a breakthrough.
"Excellent news, indeed. But can anyone tell me what we'll do once we get out of here?" Gordon Malloy's question echoed across the bridge, laden with a pessimism he was now struggling to hide.
The SSV Tokyo's helmsman was hunched over a torn panel, using his Omni-tool in flashlight mode to illuminate the burned-out circuitry, while next to him a soldier who knew something about electronics was desperately trying to force a reboot of one of the auxiliary systems.
"We'll take up arms and prepare to fight, that's what we'll do!" Alara Kitan exclaimed. Her voice was firm, dictated more by her heart and her instincts as Security Chief than by any real tactical analysis.
Despite her diminutive stature, Alara was demonstrating prodigious strength, carrying on her shoulders an engineering officer who, suspended from the ceiling, was trying to activate the fire suppression system to force open the doors.
'This place is turning into a circus,' thought Aiden Shepard, watching the surreal chaos.
For a man accustomed to the surgical precision of N7 operations, seeing the bridge reduced to a makeshift workshop was an insult to military discipline.
"Fight? That thing?" Malloy retorted, pointing through the glass at the titanic shape of the alien vessel, now assisted by six ships that, at a glance, looked to be twenty kilometers long each.
"That ship spits out cruisers as easily as a magician pulls rabbits out of a hat. I'm seriously afraid to find out if it can pull out more rabbits... or worse," muttered Malloy, who had seen too many space horror movies as a child.
Alara bit her lower lip, staring at the gigantic ship that looked like a Dark Lord's fortress-city fused with a warship.
The diminutive Security Chief opened his mouth, but no words came out: Malloy's logic was as overwhelming as the mass of the enemy ship.
"We must not lose our temper," Captain Anderson intervened. His deep voice acted like an anchor for the crew.
"Our primary objective has not changed: we must restore minimal systems, reassemble the entire crew, and find a way to get the SSV Tokyo underway again. One step at a time," said Captain Anderson, choosing to focus on what he could do, not what he couldn't.
"I appreciate your determination, Captain, but an objective analysis suggests that the chances of success have dropped below five percent," Isaac Jackson stated.
His voice was flat, uninflected, as if he were reading a weather report rather than a death sentence. He was, without a doubt, the calmest man on the SSV Tokyo.
More than one officer cast a murderous glance at Isaac. He was certainly the most brilliant mind on board, but his lack of tact was irritating on many occasions.
If he hadn't been the genius of SSV Tokyo, someone probably would have punched him already.
"I've always said Isaac's got a screw loose," Malloy muttered to a nearby colleague, not too quietly.
"Silence!" Aiden Shepard's cry cut through the air like a whiplash, startling even the most seasoned crew members accustomed to working under pressure.
"One more word and I'll throw you all in the brig for insubordination and abandoning your post in an emergency!" Aiden Shepard declared, clenching his hand into a fist and cracking his knuckles.
The XO fixed those present with the steely gaze of the "Butcher of Torfan." He'd had enough of this circus; it was time for soldiers to be soldiers again, and not extras in a space sitcom.
"Isaac, if you have any of your wild theories, spill the beans. Now." Aiden Shepard's order was terse. He knew Isaac wouldn't remain so unperturbed without a valid reason; after all, beneath that veneer of logic, he was still just a man like the rest of them.
"I'm making some assumptions based on the residual energy data," Isaac began, crossing his arms.
"A hundred-kilometer ship, capable of generating stable portals and moving such a mass, requires a power output beyond any scale we can measure," Isaac said, but was interrupted by a certain chatterbox with red hair.
"Yes, that's pretty obvious. I wouldn't be surprised if that behemoth could pulverize Madagascar in one fell swoop, like in one of those old movies where aliens destroy Earth and humanity ends up like the Quarians," Malloy said, starting to regret being an old-school movie buff.
"Shut your mouth and let Isaac talk," Aiden Shepard cut him off, shooting Malloy a bloodcurdling look.
The helmsman was far too talkative for his taste in a crisis situation.
"With that amount of energy, they should have just as much firepower. Instead of reducing us to a wrecked ship with bodies scattered in space, they neutralized us with a surgical cyberstrike. They shut down the SSV Tokyo's engines, but left the life support and artificial gravity intact. Bottom line: they want us alive," Isaac finished, crossing his arms with his usual coolness.
The idea that aliens in the largest ship in the galaxy wanted them alive was both reassuring and frightening.
"What if they were like the Batarians?" Alara asked, a hint of uneasiness in her voice. The thought of being caged and sold to the highest bidder made her want to vomit.
"Typically, technological level reflects the cultural advancement of a species," Isaac replied, though this time his voice betrayed an unusual uncertainty.
"I'd say we're looking at a mix of salarian precision and turian discipline. But that's just speculation; I can't tell you the culture of an unknown alien species based on the size of their ship alone," Isaac added, trying to be helpful.
"If you're right, and that's a big if, I hope they're more like those brainy geckos than those warlike birds," Malloy commented, unable to keep quiet even though he was in the crosshairs of a colossal and terrifying alien ship.
"We're not getting anywhere like this," thought Aiden Shepard. He abruptly closed his Omni-tool: it was time to change tactics. Software wasn't enough; brute force was needed.
"Malloy, since you have so much breath to waste, come over here and make yourself useful. And you too, Bortus," Aiden ordered, turning to a dark-skinned, massive, bald NCO towering nearby.
Under the XO's guidance, the three men gripped the edges of the SSV Tokyo's half-closed doors. With a coordinated effort, the metal began to groan and slide slowly through the now-depleted magnetic guides.
Bortus' strength, combined with Shepard's determination and Malloy's effort, managed to overcome the resistance of the portal.
"The door is open!" Aiden exclaimed triumphantly, as the door finally opened onto the outer corridor of the SSV Tokyo.
It was a fleeting moment of victory. That brief moment of relief was destined to shatter against what awaited them outside.
XXX
While inside the five Systems Alliance ships, humans struggled against sealed hatches and inert systems, shutting down as easily as hitting the off button on a remote control, outside, in the cosmic void, the Voidwalker Fleet was certainly not sitting idly by.
The six Sparta-class Heavy Cruisers had already formed a defensive turtle formation around the Moonbreaker, ready to transform into an impenetrable shield or a devastating spear depending on the order given.
Meanwhile, the Laserbeak series Space Fighters, coordinated by the digital mind of PANDORA, had launched the attack.
Divided into five lethal squadrons, they aimed like arrows at the human ships.
Wing Three, led by the Laserbeak-020 fighter, had already set its sights on the SSV Tokyo.
XXX
In cyberspace, inside a virtual "throne room," PANDORA sat composed, seemingly motionless.
It was just an illusion: his avatar was a necessary construct to provide the organic crew with a sense of familiarity and to remind the AI itself that it was, at least in form, a member of the crew like everyone else.
USKY's doctrine was clear: an AI is less likely to alienate or rebel if it perceives itself as an integral part of the community, rather than as a cold mass of algorithms and fractal geometries.
In fact, PANDORA's awareness was everywhere.
Thousands of screens floated before her, but the closest were fifty crimson military HUDs, each linked to the optical sensors of a Laserbeak fighter.
Around the throne, a cocoon of orange holograms pulsed with data pulled from the bowels of the SSV Tokyo.
With precise, almost bored gestures, the Moonbreaker's AI scanned the data, highlighting crucial sections in the technical schematics of enemy Starships.
"Mom shouldn't have ordered Team Q-1 to get into their Star-Mechs and arm their ace pilot with the experimental weapon. I already have the situation under control; I could end everything with a single strike," thought PANDORA, selecting the precise order of the most vulnerable structural points to strike on the human patrol.
The objective was to cause critical damage to the systems, but without compromising the structural integrity of the ships or killing the crew aboard the SSV Tokyo and other naval units.
As if playing a flight simulator, a scrolling list of weapons available to the Laserbeak-class Star Fighters appeared on the AI HUD.
Being mass-produced models designed for front-line sacrifice, their arsenal was standardized, but lethal in its accuracy.
For the opening of hostilities, PANDORA selected the Blizzard-equipped missiles.
These small rockets were not designed for conventional kinetic detonation: upon impact, the warhead released cryogenic magical energy contained within a shard of artificial Magicite, enhanced by a special elixir concocted by Commonwealth potency experts working for various Fleet Departments.
Their striking force was not massive, nor their range vast, but their effectiveness lay in their ability to immobilize.
Once it hit its target, the released substances triggered a chain reaction: the magical ice began to expand like a crystalline virus along the outer hull and, where it found microfractures or structural damage, penetrated inward.
A clean, silent and crippling attack for SSV Tokyo.
"Checkmate on the first turn," PANDORA whispered, with a victorious grin. With an almost childish gesture, she mimed the shape of a gun with her hand and fired into the void.
That harmless gesture was the signal for execution. In real space, the fighter squadrons opened fire in unison.
'These humans are lucky that Mother is a lover of peace and diplomacy,' PANDORA mused, crossing her arms in satisfaction.
On the red screens, the image of the SSV Tokyo and the other Alliance ships changed dramatically: they were not destroyed, but shrouded in an unnatural haze.
"But I'm also Papa's daughter, and he wants to win a war before it even begins. These humans will have no chance to touch any member of my family," PANDORA said, her eyes serious.
His words reflected the protective nature inherent in all AIs aboard Starships; they are not mere programs, but the very will of the ship.
A symbiotic relationship develops between the vessel and its crew, often evolving into familial or camaraderie bonds, and in some cases even romantic ones towards the Captain.
It is precisely this deep emotional connection that led to the promulgation of the law that allows the marriage between organic and synthetic materials.
A union legalized by the government and officially supported by the royal family, especially Second Princess Beatrix Blight, and by religious institutions, who recognize that AIs like PANDORA possess souls.
Within moments, the Systems Alliance ships, including the SSV Tokyo, appeared completely encased in a layer of crystalline ice, frozen in a cryogenic prison that sealed off any hope of escape.
XXX
As soon as Aiden Shepard managed to force the airlock open with the help of Malloy and Bortus, it seemed as if the galaxy had decided to throw another low blow to humanity.
ICE BLAST!
The SSV Tokyo was rocked by a sequence of violent, dull impacts that sounded not like explosions, but like the groan of metal suddenly contracting.
The officer Alara Kitan was carrying on her shoulders lost his balance and fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
A final shot hit the bridge window squarely.
There was no flash of flame, just a shockwave of ice that hurled the entire crew to the ground. Within moments, the glass was covered in a layer of blue ice, opaque and unnatural.
"What did I do wrong?!" Malloy cursed, struggling to get up while rubbing his side.
'Talking too much and when you're not invited,' Aiden Shepard thought with a hint of nastiness as he got to his feet.
"I only had one year left on the force! One year and I'd be back on Earth flying luxury civilian shuttles," Malloy lamented, resting his hands on the helmsman's console.
"Guys... did we just get frozen by a... plane?" Alara asked, stunned.
Through the last few clear sections of glass, he glimpsed the silhouette of an alien fighter, resembling a drone from the early 2000s.
Winter had come without warning for the humans on the SSV Tokyo.
Within seconds, the temperature on deck dropped below freezing; every breath the crew took turned into a cloud of white steam.
"Fascinating, a naval-scale cryogenic weapon," Isaac commented, perking up with a calm that bordered on insult.
"The design of that fighter reminds me of the antique military model planes my father loved so much; a strange aesthetic coincidence," Isaac said, trying to see the alien craft through the ice.
It was the first time Isaac spoke about his family. Some of the crew members muttered under their breath, talking about lost bets or how they'd always believed he was a genetically engineered clone.
"Use that brain to get us out of here instead of complimenting him!" Malloy snapped, tucking his hands under his armpits in a desperate attempt to warm himself.
"I'm a scientist, Gordon, not a wizard," Isaac replied, as cold as the air around him.
"Silence!" Aiden Shepard's roar restored order. The N7 shook the frost from his armor, his gaze fixed on the dying glass of the SSV Tokyo.
"Report! Does anyone know what the hell hit us?" Captain Anderson asked, managing to keep a cool head despite the desperate situation.
"The computers are still completely inert, sir!" replied one of the technicians, his teeth chattering from the cold.
Isaac approached the frozen section of the bridge, activating a manual scan with his Omni-tool.
"It's an extreme thermal subtraction weapon. Extremely effective: the frost slows down the metabolic functions of organics, and if we tried to melt it now, the resulting water would short out any sensitive systems still active. They've got us in a perfect trap," Isaac explained in an almost admiring tone as he closed the holographic interface.
"I hate to admit it, but these aliens are pretty damn ingenious," Aiden Shepard confessed, approaching Anderson.
The ice, like a crystalline mold, was already beginning to creep up the walls of the SSV Tokyo, conquering inch by inch.
"This isn't going to end well," thought Captain Anderson. He felt like a man with water up to his neck; if someone decided to fire the engines or use thermal weapons, that metaphor would become tragically real: meltwater would flood the bridge.
"Did anyone manage to restore communications?" Aiden Shepard asked, turning to his men.
The technicians shook their heads, terrified: the equipment was not responding to their commands.
A stylized logo appeared on the screen: a one-eyed black dragon, proud and menacing.
"Crew of the SSV Tokyo," began a firm, authoritative voice, which seemed to make the ship's bulkheads vibrate directly.
"I am Ignis, Lord Fleet Admiral of the Astra Navis." Iggy declared, introducing himself to the humans.
"Is that... a space elf?" Alara Kitan whispered, her eyes wide at the image on the monitor. The man staring back at them was undeniably handsome, with noble features and long, pointed ears.
"If we're going to end up being slaves to someone, at least we'll have sexy masters," Alara thought, trying to find a silver lining in this disastrous situation. Judging by the distracted expressions of several people on the bridge, she wasn't the only one with similar thoughts.
Isaac, on the other hand, was lost in a scientific vertigo.
"Humanity and the asari share similarities that already defy statistical odds, but this... this is unprecedented. Phenotypically, we may be different, but morphologically, we're nearly identical. It's a coincidence beyond measure," Isaac mused, already imagining the fierce academic debate such a discovery would spark.
Captain Anderson, however, did not allow himself to be distracted by the beauty of his interlocutor or by the chill that now gripped the room.
He stepped forward, maintaining a neutral expression: a perfect balance between military respect and diplomatic caution.
"Hello, Admiral Ignis. I am Captain Anderson, the commanding officer of this patrol," the old soldier began, his voice steady despite the vapor of his breath dancing before his lips.
"I know exactly who you are, Captain Anderson," Ignis replied. His voice was flat, laced with a stoicism that betrayed no emotion.
Aiden Shepard stepped forward, standing beside his mentor in a gesture of solidarity.
"Is it customary in your culture to respond to a peace signal with a cyberattack and unprovoked aggression?" Aiden asked.
His voice was a blade, laced with a direct accusation that would have made a less experienced officer tremble. It seemed reckless, but it was a test: Aiden wanted to observe any cracks in Ignis's composure.
The space elf, however, didn't bat an eyelid. He calmly adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, an almost human gesture that clashed with his alien nature. He didn't seem at all offended by Shepard's insolence.
"According to our culture, no. Courtesy is a cornerstone of our society, but according to current Voidwalker Fleet protocol, the answer is yes... under certain circumstances," Ignis replied with almost disarming sincerity.
The Admiral exuded the aura of someone totally devoted to rules and duty.
"And what would that protocol be?" Captain Anderson interjected, his deep voice trying to regain control of the confrontation.
He sensed that behind that cold logic lay something much more complex than simple hostility.
"You surely witnessed how the Moonbreaker emerged from the Star-Gate," Ignis stated.
It was a certainty, not a question: anyone with a working sensor or a rudimentary telescope would see the arrival of the Crownmaker-class Supercarrier.
'Moonbreaker,' thought Malloy, feeling a chill that wasn't from the ice on the walls.
"Moon Destroyer. Fantastic. Aliens with a ship the size of a city wouldn't choose a name like that if it was built for cruising," Malloy mused on the meaning of those wartime titles.
"Hard to miss," Captain Anderson admitted, thinking back to that titanic mass that had changed the meaning of everything he knew about ships.
It was an event that would remain etched in the memory of every man and woman on that patrol; a story destined to be passed down for generations... if they lived long enough to tell it.
"The Voidwalker Fleet can be described as an intergalactic armed scouting force. Normally, our philosophy dictates that we remain in the shadows, observing the natives and studying the galactic landscape, or at least that of each individual Sector, before revealing ourselves to anyone we deem safe, friendly, or compatible with our purposes," Ignis explained, outlining what they planned to be an invisible first contact.
"Did you say... intergalactic?" Captain Anderson repeated the word as if it weighed tons.
"Are you saying your people routinely travel between galaxies?" asked Aiden Shepard, completely taken aback.
The situation was getting worse: they were not just facing a new race, but a civilization that regarded travel between the Milky Way and Andromeda as naturally as a train ride.
"No, intergalactic travel is a recent achievement, a mere fourteen years ago. But only the Voidwalker Fleet, the elite of the elite, can leave the Azure Galaxy to study the unknown," Ignis explained, flashing a faint smile that wavered between arrogance and smugness.
Clearly, a way to shift attention and avoid having to explain the limitations of their method of intergalactic travel.
'The Earth fairy tales were right: elves are arrogant in every universe,' thought Aiden Shepard, having read his share of fantasy books.
"Given what you just said about the Ghost Protocol, and considering your current actions, it seems clear to me that you are not following it," Isaac interjected, intervening in the conversation with his usual analytical coolness.
"If your patrol had arrived even a few hours later, you wouldn't have seen or heard anything," Ignis clarified, unfazed by the intrusion.
"You would have discovered our existence only months from now, after we'd completed mapping this Sectorum. Instead, you intercepted us right during the emergence phase. This automatically triggered the Sanguinius Protocol," Iggy said, providing some details about a possible more harmonious meeting.
The Admiral spoke with absolute detachment, as if the blame lay solely with the unfortunate coincidence of events.
"And what would this... Sanguinius Protocol entail?" Anderson asked, clenching his fists at his sides.
'Nothing good for us, that's for sure,' Aiden thought, preparing for the worst.
"The Sanguinius Protocol is categorical," Admiral Ignis recited, with the coldness of one expounding a religious dogma memorized.
"It requires treating any unknown armed force as an immediate threat. The goal is to silence, immobilize, neutralize, contain, and ultimately study the enemy."
As he spoke, Ignis opened his left hand and struck it with his right fist, a sharp gesture that underlined the finality of the procedure.
"Yet you don't strike me as a sadist, Admiral Ignis," Isaac observed, squinting to analyze every micro-expression of the elf on the screen.
"And he doesn't seem inclined to proceed with final neutralization either," Aiden Shepard added.
Admiral Ignis smiled faintly.
"Was there a change in protocol or a higher order?" Aiden asked, desperately trying to read the alien's body language, hoping that the similarities to humanity weren't just aesthetic, but also reflected some comprehensible logic.
"Actually, you were extremely lucky," Ignis replied, with a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Lucky?!" Aiden Shepard snapped, feeling his blood boil. His instincts urged him to respond to every attack with double the force, but the inability to react made him feel like a caged predator.
"You brought us to our knees without warning and you call that luck?" Aiden Shepard blurted out, his Chicago-raised street-kid side shining through.
Ignis looked at him with almost glacial detachment.
"Are any of your men dead?" the Admiral asked directly.
Captain Anderson intervened before Shepard could explode.
"No, as far as I know. There have been no casualties on the SSV Tokyo so far," Captain Anderson replied, gesturing for Shepard to stay calm.
"Precisely," declared Admiral Ignis.
Aiden Shepard refrained from replying, but his gaze remained accusatory.
'Lucky us. They just froze us so they could study us before deciding whether we were cannon fodder or playthings,' thought Aiden Shepard, the cold still biting into his armor.
"According to standard Sanguinius Protocol, we were supposed to unleash overwhelming force. We were supposed to dismantle anything that stopped functioning or breathing, then capture what remained from the rubble," Ignis said, punctuating his words with measured hand gestures.
"Well, we're done for. Officially done for," Malloy thought, his expression completely dejected. Hearing his own death described as a bureaucratic procedure was worse than a bullet.
"However, your belated First Contact message and the peaceful disposition of the Lady High Scientist of the Mechanicus have convinced me to proceed with caution. We have decided to leave open the possibility of dialogue," Ignis explained, demonstrating unexpected flexibility.
'Correction. We're done for, but maybe not today,' Malloy thought, a faint glimmer of hope lighting up his cold-lined face.
"Are you telling me you've been... holding back?" Captain Anderson asked, almost unable to accept the truth.
If that was their idea of restraint, the prospect of a full-force attack was something he preferred not to imagine even in his worst nightmares.
"We merely shut down non-vital communications and computer systems. Our Star Fighters' intervention was only to safely disable engines and armaments, in the event you could restore backups. You are mute and paralyzed, it is true, but you are alive and without permanent structural damage on the SSV Tokyo," Admiral Ignis explained with the casualness of a surgeon describing an anesthesia.
"A very aggressive way to start a dialogue. But extremely clean. You have total control of the situation," Aiden Shepard commented, crossing his arms.
'Damn, that's a textbook maneuver. They took us out without even breaking a sweat,' thought Aiden Shepard, acknowledging the tactical perfection of the maneuver.
"I'll be blunt: What do you want from us, Admiral?" Anderson asked, trying to decipher whether this alien was a potential ally or just a very polite jailer.
"I want your cooperation. This way, no one has to die. It's the most logical solution," Ignis replied, following Captain Anderson's example and getting straight to the point.
"The 'no death' option seems like a good place to start," Malloy murmured, voicing the desire for survival that hovered over the bridge.
"Listening doesn't cost us anything; we have no cards to play right now," Aiden added, exchanging a knowing look with the Captain.
Ignis continued without interruption: "If you agree to cooperate, you will be treated as a neutral alien species. Your ships will be scanned and transported to a containment hangar; your weapons will be confiscated, and your crew will be transferred to secure quarters, with all civil rights and necessities guaranteed. We will ask you questions you will not be obligated to answer. Finally, the highest-ranking officers will be invited to dinner with my Lord."
As he spoke his final words, the Admiral placed a hand on his heart, his voice resonating with an almost religious respect.
"Within a week, depending on the outcome of the talks, you could return to your space aboard your ships, accompanied by our diplomatic representative," Ignis concluded, outlining the ideal scenario.
"What if the talks go badly?" Anderson asked, his voice firm.
"In that case, the crew will be left on a habitable planet compatible with your biology. You will be equipped with bows, arrows, knives, and old-fashioned camping gear, as well as six months' worth of canned food supplies. If you are able, you will survive until our Fleet officially contacts your people; at which point, we will inform them of your location," Ignis explained, laying out the scenario with disarming calm.
"So, either we become ambassadors or we become castaways on a school trip. Great," thought Aiden Shepard, gritting his teeth.
"So, to recap," Malloy interjected, trying to ease the tension.
"Scenario A: You treat us like guests, we chat, and we become the legends of the most absurd First Contact in history. Scenario B: If you don't like us, you send us on a forced camping trip on a remote planet to play primitive." Malloy concluded his summary of that surreal situation with a vague wave of his hands.
"You get the gist," Ignis confirmed with a nod.
"What if we decided to refuse cooperation right now?" Captain Anderson asked, a serious expression etched on his face.
"In that case, you will be officially classified as a hostile alien species," Ignis began, his gaze suddenly chilling. Malloy suddenly turned even paler than before.
"Besides that, the vast majority of my crew would consider you rude barbarians for refusing our offer. You would personally offend the Lady High Scientist of the Mechanicus, a figure greatly beloved and respected by all of us in the Fleet," Ignis added, showing the first, open sign of hostility.
The Admiral paused, letting the weight of those words weigh on the chilly air of the bridge.
"Team Q-1 would be ordered to target the SSV Tokyo with a new experimental Mechanicus weapon; you'd likely be burned to death before you knew what hit you. For other ships, protocol calls for a forced shutdown of life support: we'd wait until your oxygen supply was exhausted until you were unconscious. Only then would your bodies be removed and sealed in a containment bay," Admiral Ignis explained calmly.
Aiden Shepard felt his jaw tighten.
'It's not a shouted threat, it's a technical execution,' thought Captain Anderson, the chill seeming to seep into his bones.
"Every single survivor would be held in total isolation, in high-security cells. You would receive only a basic ration of nutrients and be subjected to the interrogation methods of former members of the Inquisition. You would be treated as prisoners of war and political hostages for future negotiations with the Systems Alliance. Although..." Ignis waved his hand vaguely.
"There's always the option of eliminating you all and erasing every trace of our meeting. It will depend solely on my Lord's will and a simple cost-benefit calculation," Ignis concluded, the lenses of his glasses seeming to glow with an eerie light.
The silence that followed on the deck of the SSV Tokyo was heavier than the ice coating the walls. Scenario C wasn't a war: it was total obliteration.
"Nutritious pasture and Inquisition. Bow-and-arrow camping is starting to feel like a luxury vacation," Malloy thought, swallowing.
"I surrender, here and now. No heroics, thank you," Malloy declared, raising his hands with the urgency of a child trying to avoid punishment.
"A wise man," Ignis commented from the screen. A compliment that sounded like a pragmatic pronouncement.
Malloy dropped to his knees, clasping his hands behind his head. He deliberately ignored the leaden gaze Aiden Shepard was planting in his back.
"I have no intention of dying from a foolish excess of pride, much less of finding out how creative former alien inquisitors are in an interrogation room," the red-haired helmsman muttered.
"Captain Anderson, XO Shepard," Isaac interjected, mimicking Malloy's gesture with his usual mechanical precision.
"I strongly suggest we cooperate. Being classified as 'neutral' offers greater statistical leeway than being classified as 'hostile.' It's in the best interest of the crew's survival." Isaac provides the motives for his actions.
"For once, Isaac and I are on the same wavelength. Mark that in your log," Malloy commented with a tight smile.
Aiden Shepard approached his mentor.
The cold of the room was nothing compared to the chill he felt inside at having to give in without firing a shot. He leaned towards her ear.
Anderson, his voice a hoarse whisper: "Whatever we choose, Admiral Ignis will get what he wants. The only variable we control is the number of coffins we send home."
"I know, Shepard. I know it all too well," Anderson replied. He seemed to age ten years in a single instant, his usually straight shoulders sagging under the weight of an unbearable responsibility.
The Captain turned to the screen, straightening his body for the last time as a free man.
"Admiral Ignis, I, Captain David Anderson of the Systems Alliance, hereby declare the surrender of this patrol. I commend myself to your goodwill, with the hope that you will keep your word," Captain Anderson declared.
'I wonder if this is how General Williams felt in Shanxi...' thought the old soldier, a sense of defeat weighing on his chest.
Ignis's expression became monstrously serious.
"If I were to go back on my word, my Lord would dissolve my Iron Contract and pour it molten down my throat. For a subject of USKY, treason is the supreme sin; breaking an agreement is the second," Ignis declared, with a solemnity that spoke of life and death.
"These space elves must be even more obsessed with honor than the turians are," Malloy muttered under his breath, shuddering at the thought of the punishment the alien described.
"Your corvettes will soon be scanned by Q-1 Team's Star-Mecha, and then transported to a containment hangar. To facilitate the maneuver, we will temporarily restore communications between your units," Admiral Ignis explained.
As the space elf spoke, the equipment on the bridge began to power back up one by one, except for those that the humans had damaged in their desperate repair attempts.
"This ship is actually classified as a Light Cruiser," Isaac clarified.
He could not allow such a gross taxonomic error to go unnoticed, even during a surrender.
Ignis blinked, showing for the first time an expression of genuine bewilderment.
An eerie silence fell, lasting nearly thirty seconds, as the alien seemed to process the information.
"This... small ship is supposed to be a cruiser?" he asked finally, with a hint of incredulity.
"Its dimensions correspond to those of one of our super-heavy Corvettes or, at most, a light Frigate," added Ignis, touching his forehead still perplexed.
"There they are, the famous different galactic standards," Malloy commented, suddenly feeling very small. It was a sense of inferiority that weighed on the chest of every officer present.
"Considering they built that portable Mass Relay and that gigantic ship, it stands to reason that their scale is different from ours," Isaac added, his gaze lost in structural calculations.
"The Moonbreaker is one of only two Crownmaker-class Supercarriers in the entire USKY," Ignis clarified proudly, pounding his fist against his chest.
"Her twin sister, the Sunbreaker, remained to protect our homeland, in service of the Second King." Admiral Ignis said with a tone of respect.
"Are there two of them?" Anderson muttered, hoping with all his heart he'd never have to see the duo reunited in battle array.
"There are two for now, but I don't know all the secrets of the Royal Family; there may be a secret facility working on a third Crownmaker-class Starship," Ignis said, his expression thoughtful, considering the possibility.
'The Systems Alliance will have to re-budget the Starfleet from scratch and rethink every single project,' thought Captain Anderson, feeling the weight of an unbridgeable technological gap.
"The Moonbreaker and Sunbreaker debuted fourteen years ago, when the First King passed the throne to his heir. The Sunbreaker was given to the new ruler as a coronation gift, while the Moonbreaker was given to his closest confidant as a retirement gift, along with a Warrant of Trade. This allowed him to found the Voidwalker Fleet and begin intergalactic expeditions," Ignis explained, offering a version of events that contained only half-truths.
'King? A space monarchy?' Anderson thought, troubled. For a man raised on the democratic values of the Alliance, the idea of a ruler gifting such ships sounded dangerous.
Aiden Shepard, however, was focused on a more disturbing detail. 'What's scarier? An ancient race that's been traveling across galaxies for millennia, or one that learned to do so while I was learning to read?'
"Out of curiosity, how long has it been since your species left their homeworld?" asked Ignis.
"If we consider the first steps outside the atmosphere, the moon landing occurred in 1969," Isaac explained with encyclopedic precision.
Admiral Ignis listened with extreme concentration.
"It's now 2182. The real turning point came in 2148, with the discovery of the Prothean ruins on Mars. Thanks to that technology, we've only been traveling beyond our solar system for thirty-four years." Isaac concluded.
"In our case, it's been about five hundred and ten years since we founded the first city on our moon, Gankessho," Ignis replied, adjusting his glasses.
Isaac was petrified.
'Impossible. The asari have been traveling for nearly three thousand years, the turians for fifteen hundred... and these, in a third of the turian time, have crossed the edge of the galaxy? How did they do it?' Isaac thought, sure that many other brainiacs will go through similar mental processes.
The question was hammering into his head so hard that he didn't even notice the screen going dark, cutting off the connection.
Isaac was only shaken out of his analytical stupor when a violent shudder shook the hull of the SSV Tokyo.
Suddenly, the air began to warm rapidly; the magical ice obstructing their view melted in a shower of steam, revealing to the crew a spectacle they had thought possible only in animated films or the fevered dreams of a visionary designer.
Before them, suspended in the void, floated a titanic forty-meter war machine.
A humanoid Star-Mecha colored fiery red and orange: a vision of metal and fury that instilled terror just by looking at it.
The colossus's torso was broad and powerful, protected by overlapping plates of dark red carbon alloy that absorbed starlight, giving off a dull metallic sheen.
The head, set between massive shoulders, pulsed with emerald-green slit sensors, like the eyes of a prehistoric predator scanning the SSV Tokyo inch by inch.
But the most terrifying element was the right arm: the fingers were enormous mechanical claws, as long as an interstellar fighter, with joints that emitted a pulsating red glow, a sign of energy ready to be unleashed.
Suddenly, a young, female voice filled with sharp energy invaded the audio channels.
"This is Squadron Commander Kallen K. Scarlet, ace pilot of the Star-Mecha Guren Type Burnstar, of the Mechanicus's Collegia Titanica. I will personally oversee your escort to the Moonbreaker. Consider this privilege an unparalleled honor," the woman declared, her tone passive-aggressive and impermissible.
Then, the voice grew even colder: "On an unofficial note... if you dare spit on the benevolence of the Lady High Scientist or the mercy of our Rogue Trader Militant, I swear by the Astral Fire, Ifrit, that I will burn you to ashes before you can invoke your gods."
The communication ended abruptly and the Guren slid out of sight with a violent jerk.
"That... that was a giant robot? A giant robot flying through space?!" Malloy exclaimed, rubbing his eyes as if hoping to wake from a nightmare.
"What the hell are we up against?" Captain Anderson muttered, his face pale as he realized how dwarfed their Cruisers were by such steel monsters.
"An intergalactic exploratory fleet with cutting-edge technology, a fanatical code of honor, and absolute devotion to their leaders," Aiden Shepard summarized, maintaining an icy calm as he memorized every detail of the enemy.
They didn't have time to say anything else. A space portal swung open in front of the SSV Tokyo's bow, and the ship was brutally pushed inside by the Guren's impact.
In a blinding flash of light, the SSV Tokyo vanished from space.
Continues ...
XXX
Codex - Council of the High Lords of Commorragh or Senatorum Commorragh.
It is a governing body composed of the highest-ranking men and women among the most powerful and important people in Commorragh.
Among all these prestigious individuals, four of them stand out: Planetary Governor, High Planetary Secretary, High Commander of the Defence, Iudex of the Commorragh.
The Senatorum Commorragh is composed of four fundamental pillars:
- Supreme Authority: The Planetary Governor (Bruce Bel Bahamut Belmont), nicknamed Darkus Archon.
He simultaneously holds the position of [Rogue Trader Militant] and the leadership of [The High Command of Voidwalker Fleet].
- The Administration: Civil High Command (CHC).
The leader is the High Planetary Secretary (■■■) who can be considered the bureaucratic engine that coordinates the 8 Prefects who are responsible for administering the five Departments of Commorragh.
- Security: Planetary Defense Command (PDC).
The leader is the High Commander of the Defence (■■■) who coordinates the 5 leaders of the five branches of the Commorragh armed forces.
- Justice: Planetary High Court (PHC).
The leader is the Iudex of the Commorragh (■■■), he is the highest legal authority of the colony, coordinates the three branches of justice (Controls the Chief Justice, Supervises the Attorney General, Guarantees the High Defender) and arbitrates conflicts between CHC and PDC.
XXX
A scheme that will be explored in more detail in future Codexes:
1) Planetary Defense Command (PDC):
- High Commander of the Defense [Leader]
- Special Paranormal & Extreme Crisis Tactical Response Arm (SPECTRA) [Responsibilities of the SPECTRA Chief Operating Officer]
- Planetary Intelligence Agency (PIA) [Responsibility of the Inquisitor General]
- Planetary Police Forces (PPF)[Responsibilities of the General Commissioner of Police Planetary]
- Planetary Defense Force (PDF)[Responsibilities of the General of Planetary Defenses]
- Space Defense Force (SDF)[Responsibilities of the Admiral of the Planetary Fleet]
2) Civil High Command (CHC):
- High Planetary Secretary [Leader]
- Prefect of Logistics and Planetary Resources Allocation
- Prefect of Planetary Infrastructures
- Prefect of Planetary Expansion and Relief
- Prefect of the Biosphere and Terraforming
- Prefect of Planetary Integration and Sustainability
- Prefect of Planetary Health and Bio-Security
- Prefect of the Planetary Social Protocol
- Prefect of Arcane and Scientific Phenomena
3) Planetary High Court (PHC):
- The Iudex of Commorragh [Leader]
- The Civil Court [Responsibilities of the Chief Judge]
- The Global Prosecutor's Office [Responsibilities of the Attorney General]
- The Board of Guarantors [Responsibilities of the Chief Ombudsman]