The galaxy is a big place. Millions of worlds suitable for life. The most diverse races. Secrets of past eras and forgotten space objects.
For me, during my existence as the AI of the Boundless Will, everything was simple. There are Humans and San'Shyuum, there is the Forerunner Ecumene and their satellites. The very fact of the existence of third races was known, but it was in the background; we contacted them only as rare servants within the ranks of the Forerunner army.
Only now, after getting acquainted with Citadel Space and mapping the Mass Relays, can one perceive the size of the inhabited galaxy. Truly perceive it, realizing how colossal it is. Simply because, in many ways, it is necessary.
Even in our part of the galaxy, the Orion Arm, more than a dozen races live. Most of them form The Covenant, which is at war with Humanity. Humans and their colonies are also on the list, and now there is also the world of large bipedal lizards—the Krogan. And that's only one arm out of five. The other four were not studied during the war with the Ecumene; even Human ships did not reach there. Now I have a unique opportunity to fix this and pass the knowledge to the new Humanity. My contribution to the future, besides technologies and knowledge.
In the galaxy beyond the Orion Arm, many others live as well. The Council Races of Citadel Space: Asari (like a human, but blue, bald, and with a cartilaginous crest on the head, a mono-gendered race), Salarians (humanoid amphibians), and Turians (also humanoids, but closer to featherless birds), in whose territory the small, spherical Volus live.
There are other states as well:
The Batarian Hegemony, inhabited by four-eyed humanoids with a penchant for slave trading and raiding. We captured a group of their technicians; now they work for Humans and feel quite well.
The Migrant Fleet, essentially nomads without a world of their own. The population is Quarians; due to atmospheric specifics and atrophy of the immune system, they wear environmental suits. They have no planets of their own, but their fleet of fifty thousand ships stays in certain sectors without leaving them.
And their creations and allies of Humanity—the Geth. A hive-mind AI living in the Perseus Veil centered on the planet Rannoch, formerly the Quarian Homeworld. They essentially have no state; a state typical for organics is simply not needed for them. But with the help of a shard of Mendicant Bias, they have developed well enough to be mentioned as a separate sapient species.
There are also the Terminus Systems, colonies and worlds "free" from Citadel authority, inhabited by secondary races and outcasts from the main ones. And many others, known and unknown. Likely, we are talking about dozens, if not hundreds of races, most of which we don't even know about. Partly because the entire civilization of Citadel Space is concentrated around the Mass Relays and within a distance of up to 30 light-years around them. A percent or two of the total number of worlds in the galaxy in total.
Of course, there are other interesting places in the galaxy. Prothean creations, Forerunner complexes, black squid-like ships, and if one is very lucky, those of ancient Humanity, and possibly other civilizations. One only needs to look closely.
I, Councilor 18-436, Khaela, have one of my avatars currently busy excavating the secrets of past civilizations.
In the past, I was an AI of ancient humanity. But due to certain events, I ended up in the future. I never thought I would have to be a psychologist, archaeologist, builder, and grave digger. I have to learn new things. It's not difficult, especially the latter.
The archaeological expedition arrived at the planet designated Eden Prime. The name was taken from the SSV Normandy archives; in our designation, it has nothing but a digital code.
And, likely, it won't receive anything else in the near future. It is located on the border of the Sagittarius and Orion galactic arms, shifting toward Sagittarius. According to available data, we can dig up many interesting things; we have the coordinates, we just need to conduct the excavations. Sending a combat avatar for this task is foolish, so The Possessed is there.
The expedition arrived, conducted a scan—there is no one on the planet, no signals—found the approximate coordinates of the objects, and is now unpacking. The excavations will take some time, but the sensor complex ONI brought is respectable. We will find the Prothean, the vault, and their complex. We will find everything. What wasn't found, we will find too.
Who am I now? An AI of the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) of humanity, Councilor class, series 18, number 436. Created by ancient Humanity one hundred and fifty thousand years ago, I spent a long time on the ship Boundless Will. The ship arrived at Reach, one of the Inner Colonies of humanity, moving by inertia through space, and I was integrated into the hierarchy of UNSC intelligence two years ago.
I have under my direct command laboratories on the cruiser UNSC Apollo, an assembly dock in Earth's orbit, robot squads, and seven avatars. One combat and six "civilian" ones. Plus, I perform a mass of secondary tasks for intelligence, scientists, and analysts. All avatars are disguised as organics and, without a deep scan, are almost indistinguishable from Humans or humanoid races. You can even touch them and not know it's not a human.
One of the civilian avatars is currently busy with the excavations. Another received a teaching position at a school at the military academy on the Moon; I will look for promising personnel and charge the social module with data.
Another works together with Jacob Reyes, studying the use of hydrogen overloaded in eleven-dimensional space as a weapon. So far unsuccessfully—hydrogen is unstable, and we have to look for substances to slow down the reaction. But we know what we need and how it can be achieved. Sooner or later, there will be a result.
Other avatars are performing their assignments or awaiting them. A normal working atmosphere.
At the moment, I am interested in the combat avatar. She is present as a Spartan at the Martian shipyards, specifically on board a new prototype. I ensure secrecy with a hammer to the knees.
Today, a next-generation prototype ship will set off on a test flight. The machine was built at an accelerated pace, as it can use a power gun and accelerate to a hundred light-years per day, which is fifty times faster than ships from the beginning of the war. And five times faster than the previous generation.
It is no surprise that the admirals collectively demand that the tests be completed as quickly as possible. And the ONI forces at the facility are almost more numerous than the engineers. This is despite the fact that nearly double the amount of personnel and robots are used in assembly. This negatively affects security and secrecy; it is difficult to keep track of everyone.
The dock itself consists of huge cells, kilometers long, made of pipes and struts. Without an outer covering, they are massive scaffolding, divided into thicker load-bearing ones and thinner ones in the cells. A metallic square forest in which new ships for the UNSC appear. In total, about a dozen cells connected into a block, with ships of different sizes and classes being built in each.
The construction is stationary, but since it is in Mars' orbit, everyone is fine with it. The grids are hollow; atmosphere, workers, and equipment are delivered to the ships through them. From the surface of Mars, cargo and personnel are delivered by Orbital Elevators and shuttles.
It is divided into square niches where, amidst the scaffolding, new ships of Humanity take shape. Large ones occupying the entire cell. Small ones for which a cell can be divided into several smaller sections, with a ship being assembled in each. In an atmosphere, such a construction would collapse under its own weight, and projectiles would tear through it without problem, but all this is located in space; the construction itself cannot move, so there are minimum problems with loads.
Parts for future ships are cast and formed on 3D printers nearby, also in orbit. First, transports deliver thousands of tons of metal to the foundries, parts are cast from them, and then tugs bring them to the scaffolding of the shipyards, where the ship will be assembled from them.
The object of my interest has just finished assembly and has been undergoing tests for two weeks. A Jupiter-class prototype, a battlecruiser. The number of experimental technologies in all aspects of the machine makes it unique for today's humans.
One and a half kilometers in length, a cutting-edge antimatter reactor, and a powerful cooling system to prevent the reactor itself and the laser point defense from overheating. Liquid shields, a small air wing. Two 56A2D4 Magnetic Accelerator Cannons (MAC), the kind put on frigates. Large-caliber broadside turrets, "Spitfire" railguns, Archer Missiles, nuclear warheads.
And the heavy beam weapon Eye of Odin (Odin gave an eye to see the world of the dead). A scaled-down version of the weapon from the Boundless Will, currently on the UNSC Apollo. 510 meters in length including the rotating turret (MACs are always pointed forward; this turret has a rotation angle of 240 degrees and up to 30 vertically if turned sideways).
Less power than the original, simpler construction. However, the weapon doesn't take half an hour to cool down after three or four quick shots and can fire at a fairly high rate from the ship's reactor at a distance of up to forty thousand kilometers. And humans can mass-produce them, which is also important. All ships of this series, and possibly others, will receive such a weapon. Potentially, it could even be installed on a frigate, but there would be problems with cooling and power consumption.
— Task: work on creating projectiles for energy weapons in the form of plasma power cells. Priority: 0.75.
As a result, we get a powerful battlecruiser for direct ship-to-ship combat. These are not yet the ships of ancient Humanity, but a step in the right direction. There were complaints about the amount of landing troops, but that is nonsense.
I see no point at all in turning a capital ship into a dropship; it only increases mortality among the troops, and they already die quickly and in large numbers. Landing troops—separate. Ship combat—separate. And this project uses this concept, which is why I like it. Well, and for its closeness to human technology rather than Forerunner tech.
Why am I still present here? Because the facility is full of interested parties wanting to get their hands on the blueprints. Simply due to the excessive number of personnel compared to norms and the difficulties in tracking everyone's actions. At every stage, from transport to assembly, too many people saw what we were building here. Their hands need to be slapped in a timely manner.
Potential corrupt officials also see that the security service simply doesn't have time to be everywhere and try to get their small "gesheft." Everyone NEEDS it. I suppose people realize the technology is experimental, and corporate interests want to shell out a round sum for it, while the navy doesn't want to share.
I had to coordinate efforts with the local intelligence branch, take a robot squad under control, and patrol the territory with a separate team of lower AIs. The Vice Admiral allowed it, justifying it by saying the project is too important. The ship must leave the assembly cell and begin tests on schedule.
The Board of Admirals in its entirety is interested in the ship being ready "yesterday" (a stable expression).
And even so, despite security measures, there have already been more than a dozen attempts to steal information over the last year, even though such violators are demonstratively put on trial. There are still those who consider themselves luckier or craftier.
"Running far?" I asked, looking at the engineer.
This one wasn't trying to steal blueprints directly but to pull data from repair robots, which happen to have specifications for many structural elements. That way, everything necessary can be requested from the network. Also, these robots are controlled, in part, by AI. And when a robot requests blueprints while in a workshop, it's clearly a sign of trouble.
Seeing the avatar, the thief tried to flee. Unsuccessfully. And it's not even a fact that he is a traitor or a saboteur. Possibly a corrupt official bribed for a good bonus. They'll sort it out later.
He looks like a middle-aged man in an orange uniform and a hard hat. An oxygen mask and an Omni-tool are on his belt. An ordinary worker from among the ship's engineers. An ex-worker now. The man cursed to himself when he received a message about his dismissal and a bill for breach of contract. A large bill.
"Usually you're nowhere to be found, but here a whole Spartan is running around, and such an unusual one at that," the man grumbled, not even trying to break free, "you started running around a bit late."
I will report this; let the competent specialists deal with it.
"And why isn't your salary enough for you?"
The man snorted.
"We're overworking here, you know. This ship—they canceled our vacations, increased shifts, a total ban on leaving the territory. We sit on rations, work, and sleep, even though I was supposed to have a vacation six months ago. According to the schedule. And I'm here."
I nodded.
"So, and?"
He looked at me somewhat strangely, then sighed.
"Ah, well, yeah. A Spartan. You wouldn't understand that people have a civilian life too. No offense. And there's also a family that it's desirable to see at least once every six months. I didn't sign up for this, and neither did my loved ones."
Having handed the client over to security, I went further. More accurately, that's the avatar walking outwardly. In fact, a lower AI on my behalf monitors the cameras and checks suspicious activity with robots, while the avatar is more for distraction. And a demonstration of presence; well, people don't understand that I see everything.
"Khaela-317, what do you have there?" the dispatcher clarified.
"A violator, reading data from robots. He shouldn't even be here. Detained, handed over to C-Sec."
"Understood, continue."
Continuing. The territory is large; with the forces of AI and counterintelligence agents, I control it, day after day.
I understand that man, but he could at least resign. Not everyone is such an enthusiast as Dr. Catherine Halsey. There is nothing surprising in the fact that a person is not ready to sacrifice themselves in production. It doesn't justify the attempt to steal data.
The rest of the time, one only needs to observe; the shipyard has its own specialists, my role here is only in control. Calculations, construction, and quality control are the concern of the shipyard personnel.
And so, finally, the ship is completed. Testing of mechanisms began during the assembly process at the first opportunity; the crew is on board, technicians too. All so that upon completion of assembly, the ship could begin sea trials as quickly as possible. Haste—if not for the AIs taking over the calculations, the process would have dragged on for months, if not years. But haste was combined with colossal computing power; with the protection of the admirals, all necessary resources were allocated, no matter how much was required. The only condition—deliver the ship as soon as possible.
It wasn't without problems, but both workers and AI were motivated and acted at the limit of their capabilities. All for this moment.
Time for the "Jupiter" to leave the dock in one piece for the first time.
"Jupiter speaking, ready to begin. Reactor normal, everything working stably. Ready to start."
"Jupiter, this is dispatch. Understood, reactor normal, stable. Seeing the check results, everything in order. Disengaging dock clamps. Stand by."
Massive struts holding the ship began to retract into the structure. Slowly but surely. The ship was free for the first time.
"Clamps removed. Starting starter engines."
One can turn on the main engines in the dock, of course, if you want to melt the dock itself. Even grid structures won't withstand such a thing, nor will the valuable equipment inside. So smaller engines lit up around the ship, carefully guiding the one-and-a-half-kilometer giant out of the dock.
Of course, there are other messages, but they are secondary. Everything is working normally. The ship is ready to start. Thanks to the starter engines, it slowly moves away from the assembly cells by inertia; the starter engines have detached and will be picked up by tugs. Several more move parallel to the new ship, so small against its background.
"Safe distance. Final check. Normal. Starting main engines."
Now that the shipyard grids are left behind, one can examine the ship better. At first glance, an ordinary cruiser, except for the energy turret on the roof taking up a third of the hull, which glows blue when accumulating a charge. Also, it is noticeably longer than ordinary cruisers and carries more weapons.
If you look closely, you can notice massive triple-barreled turrets that can destroy escorts; on the bow, a pair of rapid-fire small-caliber MACs using triple-shot methods of the Halcyon-class, and on the sides, numerous hemispheres of laser point defense and missile defense. Shield projectors too.
The ship is literally hung with weapons and active and passive defense systems.
On the roof is a massive five-hundred-meter turret, the barrel of which glows with blue grids of guides and cooling systems. The first full-fledged mass-produced heavy beam weapon of humans. And their bid for victory.
Will it help? Time will tell, but likely yes rather than no. Additionally, a super-fast engine that is also subject to modification as the technological base accumulates. This ship model can be further improved in the future, increasing all indicators. When the technologies are ready. But that is all the future; for now, the prototype is preparing to move independently for the first time.
A blue stream erupted from the huge nozzles at the stern. The ship started, gradually accelerating. Maneuvering thrusters kicked in, forcing the giant to shift in different directions. Everything normal.
The shipyards exploded with applause from the personnel, watching as the giant took its first kilometers under its own power. Yes, a live broadcast is being conducted from a tug. For posterity.
"Confirming main engine start. Moving to test position."
The avatar smirked under the helmet. The future has already happened, even if no one knows it yet. One just needs to wait.
***
Liara entered her mother's mansion with a quick step. To get to Thessia, she had to try hard. They left the Shadow Throne in orbit of a third-party world, and from there, a shuttle flight to the planet, where they were picked up by Matriarch Benezia's ship.
Tela Vasir was taken separately. First, they gathered data, then put her to sleep. The humans handed over the Asari already in a chemical coma, but she had to be woken up to make sure she was okay.
During the flight, she had to be placed under medication, fortunately, she suffered due to frequent use of Biotics and problems with recovery. Turning her off by supplying gas was a matter of technique. No need for her to walk around the Shadow Throne. Upon arrival, she will be taken to a clinic, woken up, and interrogated. Well, and then she, as the Shadow Broker, will get in touch and pay.
And here—Thessia. The capital world of the Republics. Home. At first glance, everything is normal. Right up until the moment our ship was fully inspected in orbit under the sights of the Republic's destroyers.
This is not normal; Benezia is one of the Matriarchs, part of the Council, and all previous times the correct codes were enough for passage. This needs clarification. She, of course, heard about the increased security measures, but the fact itself!
"Introduced the day before yesterday," the pilot immediately explained, "according to our data, Doctor T'Soni, the enemy uses a different coordinate system. And they arrived at Oma Ker and Palaven using a special beacon, or so we were told. So all ships are being inspected, just in case. The procedure is mandatory for everyone without exception; the Council of Matriarchs made such a demand. Even for the Matriarchs themselves."
"I see."
So they did take into account the information she passed to them as the Shadow Broker. And that's not all. In orbit, over major cities, ships are hanging. More than usual. And those over there seem to be ancient stationary combat platforms, without an FTL Drive. From the times when the Asari didn't know how to use Mass Relays. Four kilometers, a mass of armor. They were effectively decommissioned, but if desired, they can be hung with weapons and shields. And it will be a weapon platform.
For Dreadnoughts, they are just a target, but if they were upgraded, it might work.
"How is it there, on Thessia?" of course she knows, but it would be strange if she didn't ask.
The Asari pilot shrugged.
"They are preparing. For something. No one knows exactly for what, when, or how. But they are preparing. Each as best they can. Some are leaving for the Attican Traverse or even Terminus Systems. Some are digging into the deepest hole, and some are joining mercenaries or training camps for commandos. I suppose you are here for that too, Liara?"
Well, yeah, yeah. It actually makes sense that Mom didn't tell anyone anything. And they don't know who Liara T'Soni is. It turns out part of the commandos knows, and part doesn't. A reasonable approach, and it shows which of them Mom trusts more. And still, what does Benezia need? That is unknown.
"Not me, I don't know exactly what happened myself, but the Matriarch asked me to arrive as quickly as possible. But she didn't say why."
The pilot nodded.
"I think I understand. Your younger sister signed up for the commandos. Or rather, decided to sign up."
"What?" the thought escaped simultaneously with the question.
The pilot looked at the maiden and nodded.
"Everything is serious; she flew in to find out how best to proceed. Half of Lady Benezia's squad is now on Palaven; well, the maiden wants to be there too. Formally she is within her rights, she has training and at the level..."
"But Mom is categorically against it, right?"
The pilot nodded.
"And she can be understood. It's tough on Palaven right now. Only rumors, but even they are enough."
That is so. The information from there is contradictory.
In the end, the ship was still able to land on the pad near the Matriarch's mansion. Time to solve problems. So after saying goodbye to the pilot and greeting the guards, Liara headed into the building with a quick step.
Benezia herself was found in her office. Seeing the newcomer, she seemed to spend a second on recognition and relaxed slightly.
"Come in. There's a talk. Sit down."
And she herself started running her fingers over the panel of the jamming system. Then she nodded.
"The pilot said that my younger version decided to go into the commandos."
Benezia winced.
"Your story influenced her a lot. You know how difficult it is with Asari Maidens?"
That we are all universally junkies on the Asari equivalent of human adrenaline? Someone who isn't acquainted with Liara might say she is a very calm maiden. They are wrong.
Every maiden has her own source of thrills to which they return time and again. Sex, crime, the army, chemistry, extreme sports—for everyone it's something of their own. This is also why it's so difficult with Ardat-Yakshi; when burning out nerves, they get their dose of ecstasy, overloading the opponent's nervous system and enjoying it at their expense. And once they start, they physically don't want to stop.
Liara herself also has her passion: dark and deep dungeons. In the very first one, she was buried in early childhood; rescuers dug her out. Those were ancient ruins on Thessia, not far from the estate. When they dug her out, Benezia looked into her daughter's eyes and understood everything correctly.
Then there was training as an archaeologist, a lot of work, Therum and its catacombs, which, according to Joker's admission, no sane person would enter. Then there was John. And many, many more dangers and adventures. So Liara knows perfectly well how difficult it is with Asari Maidens. From her own experience.
"I know from my own experience, Benezia," she smiled.
The other sighed again.
"And now she, having heard your stories, wants to go to Palaven. You know what's happening there?"
She decided to answer this honestly.
"Not as much as I'd like. I have a mass of recordings from Oma Ker, but the Turians heard the warning about the beacons and, just in case, are jamming the Extranet and everything they can. We have to rely on quantum communication, and here everything is limited by agents. In fact? The Covenant concentrated strikes on the moons, grinding down the Hierarchy's army."
Benezia opened a holographic map of Palaven with a couple of clicks.
"Military bases and many guns are located on the moons. There is weak gravity and atmosphere there. Fewer problems with linear accelerators."
Liara nodded.
"And that is exactly where they are attacking most actively. The part of the moons far from the planet has been subjected to Glassing; approaching Palaven without coming under fire from the side close to the planet is difficult. And therefore, the assault on the moons themselves continues. With attacks on the surface, of course. It's a meat grinder there."
Benezia sighed.
"That's why I don't want her to be there. Yes, the maiden has training. But you and she are archaeologists, not pilots or officers. Maidens are attracted to risk, to breaking social norms. But most who enter the recruitment centers might not return. I know that you or she won't back down so easily. But still, I ask you to look after her. Strain her with work for you so she gathers information and doesn't meddle."
Liara shrugged.
"I'll see what can be done."
Benezia nodded.
"I know I'm asking quite a lot from the Shadow Broker. But I have something to pay with. After all, it will be much safer for young Liara this way. I think you'll agree that it will be better for both of you."
I'll think about it. Deciding for another... It's not a simple question.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan