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16.66% Mass Killzone / Chapter 2: Contact

章 2: Contact

The Citadel.

The year 2182...

The Citadel... The Citadel was the subject of numerous crazy theories, rumours and speculations. From the science-minded Salarians to the disciplined Turians to the diplomatic Azari, one could find terabytes of information about the Citadel's builders, its Guardians, and the secrets lurking somewhere deep within the walls of the Citadel. Where no explorer has gone before.

Secrets beckon to everyone, no matter how advanced your race is. It can use nanotechnology and live for a thousand years - but the mystery will still intrigue and make you shiver.

However, apart from secrets of a globally absurd nature, there were rumours of other secrets in the Citadel. Diplomats and spies (though it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began) dwelt in their own world on the Citadel. Information about stock market reports was intertwined with global plans of the races, and all of this was flavoured with a concern for preventing major conflicts.

And, of course - how could one get around gossip and rumours about the private lives of certain high-ranking people, like the fact that Councillor Spartus of the Turian Hierarchy had, two days ago, secluded himself and Councillor Azari Tevos in the meeting room and from there one could hear shouts that were not typical of diplomatic debates.

However, in the Presidium Hall, a very different kind of groans and exclamations could be heard...

***

- And I ask again - how can you disrespect the Council by insulting it with such a blatant lie? - Spartus went into a frenzy. Councillor Udin mentally wished the turian would choke on his mandibles, but he remained undisturbed outwardly.

- Spartus, can we cool it? - Tevos tried to defuse the situation at least a little. Valern mentally wished the Azari good luck, but only with the edge of his consciousness: for now, he was thinking about the extract from the intelligence reports.

- We've catalogued this system to the best of our ability and provided telemetry and all the necessary data! - Udina was bending his line. - And yes - we're cross-checking our databases. They don't match the data from the planet analysis.

- So what - someone took the planet and remade it? - The turian grinned derisively. - How's it going in there? In seven days?

- First, he didn't remake it; he created it. Secondly, not the planet, but the whole world. - The man began to lose patience. - Thirdly, don't make fun of Earth's religions. Our race at least had enough imagination for something richer than abstract "spirits".....

- I'm curious..." The turian tilted his head so that his deep-set eyes gleamed from the tunnels of his eye sockets. - ... how can your race have such rich facial expressions and gestures yet be so deceitful...

- Let's behave ourselves! - Udina choked.

The already universally forgotten Salarian irritably adjusted his hood. It was hard to judge from the slow-moving face and black eyes, but it looked like Valern had not slept well and was in a nasty mood.

Meanwhile, Valern continued:

- 'Hasn't a single Hierarchy ship ever passed this planet? I find that hard to believe...

- The Alliance must trust us more to let us into the Scillian Limit. - The turian chuckled. - They're afraid the colonists will run away from their colonies in hysterics...

- Would you stop it? - Tevos rubbed her forehead tiredly. - 'Ambassador Udina, you don't know the gravity of the situation.

- Why not? - The man nodded. - Suddenly, there was a very large colony with an orbital shipyard in orbit. And in a strategically important place, and supposedly very rich in minerals... A real sweet spot for the Turian Hierarchy and its Volusian subjects.

Spartus snorted:

- Man, if you think the Hierarchy is so poor that one planet is a serious reason for it to raise the alarm, you're wrong. No, I'm talking about the shipyard. A shipyard that - judging by its size - can build dreadnoughts...'

"It can't. "The equipment is old. It needs modernising, but not likely. The patterns are irregular..." - The Salarian's brain is working fast, and lines from the report and images from the recon team flash before his eyes.

"They've started shouting at each other again. Tevos even feels a little sorry for them. We need to end this krogan wedding."

- Gentlemen. - Valern coughed. - 'I'm afraid there is another matter that requires explanation. Please activate security protocol number three.

The counsellors and the Ambassador glanced at each other and reached for their uni-tools. Receiving a synchronised signal from all diplomats, the boardroom lowered the armoured gates. It activated the energy barriers that were supposed to prevent a potential spy from eavesdropping on the conversation by clogging the audio signal with noise.

- So - the Salarian coughed meaningfully. - Our intelligence...

- Have you learnt everything yet? - Tevos snorted. - Who'd doubt it...

- Not quite. More like even more confused. Your attention to the screen, please.

An image of an orbital station appeared on the holo screen.

- Please note that this station's equipment is extremely old. - The image has been enlarged. Giant winches and hooks for transporting ship sections became visible. All the more advanced areas of the Galaxy used zero-element, but here it was crude mechanics.

- Yes, equipment of this type was common two hundred years ago. - The turian said thoughtfully, glancing at the Ambassador. - It's a terrific piece of junk.

"Come on, Udina. You're so sensitive to all insults, won't you react?"

- There's also a marking on the station missing from all the databases.

- Maybe they were looking in the wrong place?

- It needs to be added to OUR databases.

- Now that's strange...

Tevos looked thoughtfully at the symbol of three diverging black arrows enclosed in a circle on a dark red background.

- We also found no traces of the null element at all. It's like they didn't have one.

- Are you serious? - Spartus looked at the cyclopean structure in amazement. - To build something like that without a mass effect is a terrible waste of resources.

- You don't understand. - The Salarian drummed on the keyboard. - We've found no trace of the null element, above the cities and industrial plants, even on the planet.

Images began to appear on the screen. The city in the artificial 'bowl' impressed the councillors as much as the station.

- Hmm... Funny. - Udina took a closer look. - Could you zoom in on that one over there...?

The Salarian complied with his request.

The giant building, looking like one large monolithic concrete cube, had the same symbol carved into the stone, and just below it was an inscription.

- What was the alphabet?

- We don't know. However, audio recordings of radio conversations have revealed whole groups of Earth languages.

For example, the Salarian included a minute-long radio conversation, presumably with the rescue services. Familiar words like "go" and "halt" came up but were strangely altered.

- Now, do you realise the gravity of the situation? - The Salarian pressed his thin, bloodless lips together. - This is an isolated community of people. It is unclear how - but I can say with certainty that the star system has changed its properties and is a completely different planet, star and people. Who knows - maybe some matter transfer has occurred.....

The advisors and the Ambassador listened attentively to the Salarian. When it comes to science - the Salarians are worth listening to.

- The unique case is that the system is still stable despite the transfer of another star and planet.

- Meaning.

- Yes, this system will have very little effect on navigation. Everything from the planet's mass and size to the star's mass and size is balanced. So it makes you think of an artificial transition. Now do you realise what's really scary?

- I see. Tevos went cold inside. She saw the apocalyptic picture of a weapon capable of transporting entire star systems from one place to another. Nothing good can come of this.

- It's a threat. - The turian clapped his claws meaningfully on the table. - And threats must be dealt with. I suggest we organise a fleet of Citadel fleets to blockade the planet and then demand an explanation...

- That's too categorical, Spartus. - Tevos gently rebuked her colleague. - 'For now, unnecessary noise could be damaging. 'Let's assemble a diplomatic mission, send a ship from each race...'

- And the Adriatic from the Alliance! - Udina jumped at the opportunity.

- The Alliance has no credibility in this... - Spartus began, but Tevos interrupted him.

- All right. However, the Council will be in command.

Politics is the art of compromise. So Udina realised that no greater concession would be made to him...

The security protocol has been disabled. The Alliance Ambassador took a quick step to his office, searching the instrumentation for the contact of his nominal ally.

Nominal - because Anderson was primarily a military man, and their relationship was not cordial due to their difference in character.

"He's in his place, though..."

***

- So... Shepard. What about your promise?

- I kept it. - Anderson was a little taken aback by the rudeness. Then he pulled the clipboard back to his desk.

"Jane Shepard has severely insulted Urder Khal Reese, representative of the Batarian trading house Irae, calling him a filthy coward and a slave trader who belongs in prison."

- Sir, this batar is a slave trader. You know it. This scum is a slave trafficker who...

- I know that, Shepard. But that's no reason to give him two black eyes and promise to give him two more.

- He grabbed a gun. I could have shot him..." Jane mumbled guiltily under her breath.

Anderson mentally wished those who got in the girl's way a quick death.

Jane was an idealist: sometimes it frightened, sometimes it angered, and sometimes it delighted. The girl was strong and fast, she realised that - but she was not cruel. Perhaps her not-so-happy childhood had etched out of her all the petty things that sometimes existed in the human soul. The red-haired beauty might have taken offence at the fact that someone had stolen her yoghurt, but it was contrived. For the newly formed crew of the Normandy, the XO could turn a platoon of Batarian military inside out.

Except, one thing could blow even Jane's mind: children. The hatred of slave traders reached incredible heights regarding children, and here Jane was uncompromising.

"Ah... Fuck it!" - Anderson decided. - "Let's just say I've already pissed her off this time. I've got to fight my throat out over some dickhead..."

- One. A new one. Message. - A synthetic voice on the terminal notified me that someone wanted the Captain's attention.

- Okay... Enough... - Anderson looked at the 'hat'. The message from Udina could have been anything - and carried both pleasant news and another dose of ceremonial nonsense.

***

Jane watched intently as the Captain read something on the terminal. As she read, the officer's eyes rounded upright and obvious...

"What could it be..."

- Shepard, I have great news! - The future Captain of the Normandy grinned intriguingly. - You are given a unique opportunity to redeem your service for this debacle.

The girl asked:

- Take what?

Service is a tour of duty. A tour of duty is the life of an Alliance officer.

- Take a month's worth of stuff. Then we'll see...

***

"The Adriatic wasn't the most modern ship. So they had to put two more sleeping pods in it, which caused the crew to constantly trip over unfamiliar ledges. But that was the only drawback: Anderson was valued in the Alliance, and having him on board boosted the crew's morale, which could have been better. Alliance soldiers preferred something other than being the Council's backup.

Jane quickly found a common language with the junior officers. She even insisted on being included in the watch, arguing that she needed to gain experience.

At the sarcastic remark of one of the military officers that "he was not some hamster test subject", the girl looked under her feet in embarrassment. However - everything was settled.

It was a week's journey to the mystery planet and two relays, which the ships passed one after the other.

***

When you look at the Repeater, the first thing that strikes you is how natural it looks in space. That could be because its size makes this structure comparable to space objects like asteroids and planets. A ship looks in space like a flea trying to swim in a bathtub, while the Repeater looks like a normal part of the universe.

He was. He is. He will be later.

- Entering parameters... - The pilot entered the mass transfer values into the Repeater. Jane noted that Joker did it on the Normandy's simulator almost without looking while the Adriatic pilot checked and rechecked everything.

"Re-insurer..."

However, the passage through all the repeaters was accurate and smooth - it's silly to be picky here.

Well, it was time to use the SSD, for the Oko II was still a considerable distance away, even by space standards...

***

Hellgan. 13th Battalion, Planetary Defence Force.

- HELLGAN!

- GET YOUR WEAPONS. FORM UP.

- TRIPLE AMMO, GET THE AMMO CARTS!!!

The bunker hummed like an angry swarm. Soldiers were checking and rechecking their gear in fear of forgetting something.

- The Vectans have decided to attack?

- What the hell do they want us for?

- They found out we were gaining strength and got scared?

- TALKING!

Heavy boots stomping on the corridor was like the work of jackhammers. Rifles swayed nervously on their armour mounts, and the lenses of the protective gas masks glistened slightly with the red light of the protective spraying. *

It didn't matter who the enemy was.

The Helghasts were marching forward...

***

Soldiers were being transported through the underground underground systems to the southern border of Pyrrhus. Even the civilian sector was used - and the residents looked on anxiously as the soldiers marched into the unknown.

Further orders were extremely strange: they were ordered to organise a fence around the area to stop attempts to break out of this perimeter and defend against a potential intruder.

Soldiers and officers of the 13th Battalion were extremely surprised by the scale: it was a circle with a radius of five kilometres in a hilly area, closing the centre from prying eyes, and besides the 13th Battalion, there were several other units present - including heavy weapons such as Phalanx anti-aircraft guns and a couple of tank companies.

And someone said that he saw vibrations in the air and a muffled lilac glow, which happens when the protective capes of special forces work...

And then a shadow fell from the sky. A large predatory silhouette spiked softly and with a kind of animal grace...

It was still classified information on Hellgan, but there was an irreversible change in the history of the Galaxy, as well as in the history of Hellgan...

***

Colonel Mael Radek resembled a rock. His figure was both feared and feared, the lower classes enthusiastic and the higher, usually terrified.

Now, however, the colonel's reputation was being severely tested. He was covered by loyal bodyguards, and snipers with the latest Stahl rifles, with reinforced ammunition, were stationed on the hills along the perimeter, but...

What is unclear is more frightening than usual.

When the ship popped out from behind the clouds, Radek thought for a long second about ordering the anti-aircraft guns to turn it into a sieve. The turn was too sharp - potentially, he could have been on target, but something stopped him.

The fact that the ship was quite miniaturised in the first place. It was hardly over a hundred metres long, which was very little for a long-range spaceship. And it was clearly not a planetary shuttle - the radars clearly showed that it - came from space...

The white plating was made of ceramic cells. On the nose were located some emitters - that it was a weapon, the colonel had no doubt.

"The cabin resembles an aeroplane cabin - and no additional thermal protection is visible. And the ISA has no such technology - their ships are similar to ours. Unless, of course, the intelligence is wrong."

Like any military man of any race, country, or nation, Radek knew: intelligence is ALWAYS wrong. The only question was how badly.

Another thing that confused the colonel was that the ship had no heat as it entered the atmosphere. Of course, perhaps they entered at low speed, constantly switching on the engines and correcting speed and position, but this is a crazy fuel waste. Who would do such a thing?

"Unless, of course, their fuel is the same as ours."

All these long thoughts ran through the colonel's mind in five seconds. A hull segment opened up next to the cockpit, and in another second, a white metal ladder began to crawl out.

And then, a passenger stepped out of the ship. Radek looked in some amazement at a female - clearly female - figure in a dark blue protective suit with a blind visor and a narrow slit of visor on the faceplate.

The figure made a reassuring sign with both hands, indicating that she had no weapons, and then raised her right hand in an indicatively slow motion.

"Attention, everyone! Take your fingers off the triggers! Weapons to the side. Just observe."

Radek watched in amazement as her right hand encompassed a hologram resembling a mine detector and military wrist computer hybrid. After waving this device around, the woman shook her head and said:

- Nai atime.

Then she slowly reached into her belt pouch and pulled out something the size of a packet of cigarettes. She stepped aside about twenty metres, pressed...

***

The tent, manufactured by Arcturus Salarianis, was a set of several hexagonal-shaped polymer frames that were folded up. When a current discharge was passed through them, the frames unfolded according to one of five possible modifications. In this case, modification "number 4" was designed for unfavourable conditions.

Leira waited for the tent to take its final form - and connected the power source and atmospheric filter to the control unit. The poisonous substances in the air couldn't kill the Azari. Still, they were guaranteed to affect their health, and living for over a thousand years as a disabled person was not a pleasant experience.

"Hmm... What a strange species they are..."

Leira, while the computer finished installing the software and connecting the power, looked at the people.

First of all, the Chief. No, not that - the Chief.

Tall, dressed in baggy, long clothes, with eye-catching features. On his shoulders are distinctive golden symbols, like the epaulettes of humans (the Azari used armour patterns to identify commanders). His face is obscured by some grotesque protective mask. Two hundred years old - bulky hoses descend to his chest and go to large air filters. His escorts are dressed in much the same way - bulky, heavy-looking armour, helmets, masks... And weapons, apparently gunpowder powered.

"Where did I even get to?"

When she'd agreed to an assignment like this, she'd been told of exotic places and a mysterious planet. But in reality, some insane reclusive people are passed over by progress.

"Maybe a cult? Especially using only pure-Earth technology?"

Finally, the computer beeped, announcing that the tent had been decontaminated and the filtration system was working properly.

Leira signalled for them to proceed inside.

***

- Stay here. Repeat-- shoot as a last resort.

Radek was intrigued.

The strange ship, and the strange technology, all reminded him of the fantasy stories he read as a child. Except that now, a lot depended on his decisions. And when the woman in the spacesuit called him by signs to the tent - he decided to take a risk.

They first passed through an airlock, where he was scanned with laser beams all over his figure, and then went inside.

Finally, she gestured for Radek to take off his helmet. And she started unbuttoning something around her neck...

"If anything, I'll have time to draw my weapon and fire."

Radek reached for the clasp...

***

Grey skin. Pale, painful.

Humans only had that when sick or dying of blood loss, but this man was healthy.

The sunken cheeks and protruding bones of his skull and the bald head with burn marks and old scars completed the picture.

Her eyes, deep-set, with dark circles around and inside the hollows, were reminiscent of those of the Turians. Except that it was rare for a Turian to have eyes with red, glowing irises.

Leira's eyes had a much more violent reaction: the man flinched a little and put his hand on his weapon belt, but there was more bewilderment than fear on his face.

Azari switched on the translator module and tried to speak:

- Greetings. Do you understand me?

***

Radek expected to encounter something strange. However, meeting with aliens was separate from the plan.

The human face harmonised strangely with the growths on its head, making it look not frightening but strange.

- Hall... Hollow... halo, do you understand I... me?

The English language was even more unexpected than the strange appearance.

- Where... us? Planet... name? - The translator was slowly coming around. Radek learnt English for the sake of interest - it was a way to read old archive records in the original, so he answered:

- Planet Helghan. The star system is Alpha Centauri.

- No." The woman shook her head. - System - unknown. Lama cluster. Planet Eye II. Year?

- Um... 2357, but that's on our calendar.

The woman rounded her eyes in surprise. I did some mental math.

- 2182 on the human calendar. - Radek stared into the void for a few seconds, trying to realise the scale of what had happened...

- We have to... Keep talking.

***

None of the soldiers knew what had happened. The order had just been given to lift the cordon. Instead of a blind ring, standard roadblocks were set up, and the SPO was replaced by the Guard.

And the first reports from Colonel Radek went to Pyrrhus...

***

From: Argus.

To: Leader.

"Option 0. Peaceful (for now). Enclosed is an information packet. Please review..."

***

The Hellgan Emperor watched. But even more, he listened. It took about fifteen minutes to relay the basic details of what had happened, and it was the longest fifteen minutes of the Emperor's life.

Radek had done well and was competent enough not to bring the matter to a shooting, again confirming his high reputation. It would seem that one should rejoice, but...

Visari once again studied the rough political scheme of the so-called "galactic community",: and he did not like what he saw.

Because, as a seasoned politician, he saw only one thing: in a galaxy of a trillion people, Hellgan was but a grain of sand.

Compared to the so-called Alliance, whose name alone brought to mind the ISA logo, Hellgast's army was weak.

And everything he'd spent ten years building wasn't worth a Vektan loan.

For a second, the man felt devastated... But only for a second. Visari took a deep breath, exhaled, sat at a piece of paper and picked up a pen.

It was extremely old-fashioned and costly, but he wrote his speeches exclusively by himself and hand.

"Sons and daughters of Hellgan..."


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