Mass Effect :: First Contact (IC)

by **Nuxipal** » Sat Dec 26, 2015 8:57 pm

Welcome to the In Character Thread for the Mass Effect: Factions - First Contact RP. The only place you can get your filling of power hungry warlords, beautiful space princesses, and the action packed heroics of the mighty Spectre: Blasto. Now please, lean forward. Squint. As you try and read the epic tale that is Mass Effect : Factions - First Contact.

Rule 1: Go to the OOC
Rule 2: Read the Rules of the OOC as they pertain to the IC
Rule 3: Confused, so am I.

That's it, go post. Do it. Why are you still here? Oh right, your job is to build up your civilization in your little corner of the galaxy and explore the depths of space as the balance of power is about to get a kick in the pants with the imminent arrival of a new species in the Galaxy.

January 2157

The Galaxy is at peace, for the most part. In the Terminus Systems the countless frontier worlds still struggle to exist beneath the boots of pirates and mercenary gangs. In Citadel Space, the Asari, Salarian, and Turians have maintained a power balance that helps unite all of the races beneath their rule against the chaos that is the Terminus and the threat that is the Geth. However, within this peaceful enclave are the Krogan. A race, while officially a Citadel Associate race, is more of a prisoner race. Confined to their homeworld of Tuchanka, the Krogan have grown impatient and even a small group of Krogan living on the Citadel have been trying to petition the council to end the embargo on them and permit weapons to be purchased for a planetary militia. This is being aggressively blocked by the Lusia Federation, a faction within the Asari Republics based on Lusia, the planet at the core of the Krogan Rebellions. The Hanar and Batarians both have political groups on their homeworld petitioning their leadership to make a push for a seat on the Citadel Council. The Turians have their own problem as well, with a potential breakaway faction forming in the Horsehead Nebula, the Turians must find a way to get to the Nebula faster and have employed probes to discover twinned Mass Relays to permit them to unlock new relays as well as exploration teams seeking out new relays to do work with.

Meanwhile, just a few Relays over, the Systems Alliance and the United Nations of Earth have an uneasy rivalry. One is incomplete without the other, yet they both are competing against one another for dominance in the territories of the Local Cluster, Arcturus Stream, Shanxi Cluster, and Skyllian Rift. There are other Relays that their explorers are activating all the time and who knows what they will find at the end of the next Relay.

by **The NAR** » Sat Dec 26, 2015 9:00 pm

SYSTEMS ALLIANCE

ARCTURUS STATION

"Sir, a detachment of the Second Fleet has moved in and begun repairs on the new Relay- we expect it to be ready for activation within the month"

Cigar placed firmly in his mouth, the decorated Admiral spun around in his chair, facing the officer who spoke. He leaned foreword, knocking off the ashes into an ashtray, and then placed it back in his mouth, spinning around a looking out the large window into the vast emptiness of space. Smoke rose up from where he sat, and the man began to speak with a raspy, old tone.

"Has the UN released an official response to the action?"

"No, Admiral McNamara, but we're expecting one to be released within the week- and knowing the UN, it will be nothing but condemnation"

"Very well" the Admiral said, turning around once more, but this time standing up. "Continue with the activation of the Relay. I've already spoken with the Alliance Director, he's advised us to ignore the UN's arguments"

"May I speak freely, sir?" asked the Officer. Admiral McNamara simply nodded. "How long do you think the Alliance will be able to ignore the UN before they stop bluffing and take real action?"

"They're just scared" McNamara responded, taking a drag from his cigar.

"Of what, exactly?" the Officer asked.

The Admiral turned and looked out into space as an Alliance cruiser passed by the window. "The unknown, Lieutenant. Nobody really knows what's out there... they don't want to. They're afraid we'll open a door that we can't close"

"And do you believe that those doors exist?"

"I believe that the Galaxy is too large for them not to exist, but we can't let that hold us back. Human civilization doesn't shy away from exploration, no matter the danger. Do you think the Vikings knew where they were going? Did the Spanish back down when their colonization was threatened by Natives? Human history is filled with doors that we open whether or not they're dangerous"

The Officer went silent, and McNamara nodded slightly, turning around to put out his cigar. "Dismissed".

RELAY 314

Piece by piece, the bones of the newly discovered Relay were being put back together by dozens of Alliance ships, which had been working nonstop for nearly two weeks to activate it. For many months, the Alliance had been pushing the Fleets to activate every Relay they found- regardless if it was actually for Human Colonization, or a chance to give the Alliance an economic edge over the UN. The past few years have brought the Alliance a surge of wealth and influence, especially with the mass-colonization of Terra Nova, Shanxi, and Demeter, but as their influence and power grows, so does their hunger, and their curiosity.

Inside the SSV Patton, Alliance Admiral Richard Jameson was overseeing the reactivation of the unknown Relay- which was a time-consuming and constant duty. Sleep was a thing of the past, so coffee and energy pills became the only thing that kept his eyes open. On the Bridge of the Patton, Jameson scurried around, trying to make sense of the current events unfolding.

"Sir, we're getting unusual power fluxuations within the Relay's core- we're going to have to shut down power to the whole thing or we'll have some serious problems" said one of the Tech Officers who was scrambling on his computer.

"If we shut down the power it'll take hours to reboot the systems and it'll set us back days!" the Admiral shouted.

"Yes, sir, but if we don't then the whole core will overheat and we'll have almost no chance of activating it"

"Shit!" Jameson shouted, slamming his hand on the nearest table. "Okay, shut down all power systems being pumped into the Relay and give it some cooldown time, then Reboot the system but take it easy on the amount of power being sent to the Core".

"Yes, Admiral"

Jameson sighed, running his fingers through his hair, and watched as the lights on the Relay flickered out. "That's at least 3 fucking days of progress shot to hell. Better be worth it"

by **Argentumurbem** » Sun Dec 27, 2015 5:04 am

Balak Crob'bath stood patiently, something he was renowned throughout the Hegemony for doing. Crob'bath did not rush, he did not stress. Calm, a winter's morning, he waited for the governors to silence themselves. They owed their very livelihood to him, Governor-Marshall Balak. Even with such a string to tug, the governors were notorious for their autonomy, for acting in the interests of themselves as opposed to towing the line. Such actions led to the corruption which the other Citadel races stereotyped them with. Despite that, there was little the Supreme Leader could do without weakening his own position, newly claimed from the cooling corpse of his predecessor.

"I have gone over your reports," Balak began as the murmuring of political infighting washed away. "And I am disappointed with the figures you have come out with."

The reaction was one of ponderous nods and the slow blinking of eyes. They knew that they had failed in their first task, a simple enough objective of ridding unemployment in order to save their ailing economy.

"How are our fleets expected to claim our rights on the galaxy when the streets are flooded with vagrants?"

"Supreme-"

"I was not finished," went the reply, as smooth as the surface of a frozen lake. "We have no need for excuses now. No, excuses will wait for when the Salarians have taken our colonies. They can explain why Turian ships patrol the trade lanes we were meant to hold. You can waste them when the Asari dance at checkpoints our men were supposed to guard."

The governors seemed to bristle at the words, whether at the images conjured or Balak himself no one was really sure. What was certain, was that the Governor-Marshall had their attention. Emotion was the easiest way to control.

"You will fund our operations on Camala. The mining mission has been projected to have a sustainable revenue source we must exploit. All chattel and resources necessary will be diverted from your jurisdiction in order to see this through. There will be no getting out of your duty."

Accepting that with the sullen air of defeat all politicians held, the governors were allowed a moment to begin formulating their orders.

"In addition, you will understand that the latest complement of frigates shall be ready for offensive operations soon. This is the time to dispatch all earmarked volunteers to their allotted barracks."

Once again, whipped in to a momentary state of obedience, the governors all nodded and sent away the orders.

by **Commonwealth of Hank the Cat** » Sun Dec 27, 2015 12:53 pm

Kahje

Inside a large temple used by the Hanar government as a palace for the leader, a red-skinned Drell bowed before the "Divine Prophet of the Endkindlers", who's holder was current Oxymindas, ruler of the Hanar. In the large "throne" room, about a dozen Drell in ceremonial robes and holding vindicator battle rifles, with two also holding widow sniper rifles, were gathered in the room. Their role was to protect Oxymindas at all costs. Of course, "Divine Prophet of the Enkindlers" was just a title created by Oxymindas to justify his own ego, and his personal guard were really just his loyal servants from his household. Before him, bowed the "Great Hand of the Prophet's Will", another outrageous name coined by Oxymindas, to replace the "unrefined" title of Grand Assassin, Setik Soas. Setik Soas, a Drell who served as the Hanar governments primary assassin for his sheer skill was basically promoted by Oxymindas to general of the Hanar's small military.

"Speak, o great prophet of the divine." Setik said, reciting in a almost robotic tone what Oxymindas had ordered him to address "this one" as.

"This one sees that our land is undefended." Oxymindas replied, as usual, stating his problems to Setik and would typically end converstations demanding he fix it for him.

"What do you mean, o great prophet?"

The two walked down a hallway, trailed by a few of Oxymindas's bodyguards, passing a training center where young drell where being trained to become servants and assassins for the glory of the Enkindlers.

"This one means that the Hanar's military, as the chosen race of the Enkindlers, must grow in order to fight the threats that surround us."

"I understand, o prophet. How shall I go about this?"

"We must induct more Drell into active military service. Only then can this one see a bright future."

"I shall get upon it, right away, o great prophet."

Setik left Oxymindas to his own business, and went to work on the Hanar's internal affairs.

(Month One)

by **Nuxipal** » Sun Dec 27, 2015 5:22 pm

Matriarch Benezia
Serrice, Thessia

Matriarch Benezia is the leading force of the Asari Republics. She had countless followers and is respected across all of Asari space. Outside of Asari space, she is seen as a fair and reasonable diplomat with the resources, both physical and political, to get things done within the Republics. Partnered with Councior Tevos, the Asari councilor on the Citadel Council, Matriarch Benezia has been able to leverage a greater deal of control of her race's future.

"We must do something about it Matriach." a member of the Armali Council said. "I agree, if the Galaxy were to find out.. we would lose a great deal of respect and some may even begin to fear us." stated the Councilmember from Serrice present at the meeting. Matriach Benezia puts up her hand to silence them, "Fine then. We will build them a monastery to keep them out of the public view. It is for their protection, as much as ours however. They are still members of our race and they will be treated as citizens unless they prove to be criminals." She turned to her daughter, "What do you think of this matter Liara? It is your generation that will have to deal with our decisions for hundreds of years to come.

The daughter, a pureborn named Liara, spoke up "I think it is a safe way to keep them safe from persecution as well as preventing deaths in the greater galaxy. The Asari are the chosen of the Protheans and we must seek out their knowledge if we are to understand how to best make every member of our race productive to the galaxy as a whole." The Matriach smiled, she knew she had instilled a greater understanding of the galaxy within her daughter, but this obsession with the Protheans was unhealthy. They couldn't look back when the future was so uncertain. "My daughter knows what she speaks of. She graduated first in her class this last fall and will be leading an archaeology project next year. We will set up a monastery as well as continue developing our homeworld. I need to check on my Spectre Candidate now.." with that Benezia left the room and opened the message from Councilor Tevos.

Tela Vasir
The Presidium, The Citadel

Waiting for politicians to decide your fate was likely the worst feeling in the galaxy. Dozens of people walked past her in the Presidium and none seemed to even notice her sitting there, in full armor. She knew Councilor Tevos would vote yet and the others didn't have a reason to vote no. She should have heard back by now. She picked up her datapad and sent a letter to Matriach Benezia asking if she had heard anything. Of course, the Matriarch was likely busy, but it didn't hurt to try. A squirmy looking Salarian then approached her, "Miss Vasir? The council will see you now."

by **Rightful Revolution** » Mon Dec 28, 2015 12:42 am

Heshtok, somewhere near the front lines

"Vyll! Bombing run successful! Tactical strike left them all dead! Our militia push through into clan territory!"

"You filthy mongrel!" A solid, closed fist slams into the underlings lower chin sending him stumbling backwards into another commander. An oozy glob of broken teeth leak out from his mouth.

"How many damn times have I told you to use proper grammar? I'm stuck in this fucking ship 45 hours a day with you ingrates who can't even form one god forsaken sentence correctly? The Salarians want to kill me! The STG wants to kill me! My generals want to kill me! All of Heshtok wants to kill me and I can't get one complete sentence out of you? GET UP! And if I hear you stutter like that again I'll personally sterilize you!" Vyll reared forward, quaking with frustration and rage. A thick glob of saliva dripped down from his mouth as he hashed out his insults, but the second he calmed down he ran his hand over his mouth wiping it clean. The Salarians may be vile creatures, but they had taught him manners, and that was the only thing separating him from the rest of his kind.

"STATUS REPORT!" He barked.

"We hover... ahem... We are hovering directly three kilometers away from our last tactical strike. The enemy is currently retreating and our forces on the front lines are currently awaiting orders whether to pursue. Our flamethrowing unit has already begun pushing through the countryside and eradicating the civilians. They are currently requesting air support to target the masses fleeing from the destroyed clan capital. Estimated population count is over 457,000 residents, most of whom we can account for on our last strike. Awaiting your orders, Sir." A very fine and very young Vorcha female reported to Vyll. She was only five years old but already serving aboard his flagship and speaking in near perfect sentences. If anything this was proof that the forced sterilizations and genocides happening across Heshtok were working: the trash of our species was being rooted out. Vyll would mate with her, combine the best traits of the Vorcha, probably tonight if those civilians would stop fleeing.

"Give the order for our front line troops to stop their advance and root out any survivors, I want no survivors. Also give the word to deploy three air teams to assist the fire squad with hunting down those civilians. I want nothing to hold us back when we begin our fresh push to the coast tomorrow. I want our colony teams from Hatash ready to mobilize to begin settling this land as soon as possible."

"Yes, Vyll, contacting our generals now."

"Excellent, we will own more than 2/3 of Heshtok by tomorrow, and then... the whole system."

by **Ironsbad** » Mon Dec 28, 2015 9:25 am

Cornish Station/Nemean Abyss

Within the darkest parts of the galaxy, where only the Batarians roam, even the rodents of the galaxy laid their claim to the lawless junction. The symbol of their power was Cornish Station and Tortuga, the only place where their breed of Vorcha can be profitable in their own way. The Copper Jumpers were considered to be a major gang in the cluster, even the Batarian Warlords and other gangsters don't mess with them for they have been growing in power lately since they have expanded on the planet of Tortuga. This alone became a smuggler's hold where the Copper Jumpers started to get refugees from the war on Heshtok by Vyll.

" Many Vorcha leave Homeworld. This good. Many soldiers. Many workers." Zaszn was walking around the station in his copper environmental suit and expecting the station. The station was built suited to the Vorcha, cramp and dirty as hell, but it works to the Copper Jumpers as they were able to build ships around the station anyway. They maybe the Third Generation of weak Vorcha used to gas giants, but they have made a large profit building the ships and being criminals.

" Zaszn, credits come in. Much good from smuggling. More Vorcha born this month. Many refugees come here. Birth no more." One Vorcha said to Zaszn. This has been the way things were over the last 2 years of war on their homeworld. Vyll said it was to " make strong Vorcha" but many Vorcha clans have been wiped out in his war. Many families who had been sterilized had been displaced or sold off into some form of slavery. These two things were troubling to the Copper Jumpers, but they also took it as an opportunity to increase their power in the Abyss. The Copper Jumpers adopted and hired many of the sterilized Vorcha to work for them. However, because of their inability to reproduce, then the Copper Jumpers will soon have a Fourth Generation of weak Vorcha that were born on Gas Giants or Gas Giant-like atmosphere.

This was a sign for things to come for the Copper Jumpers as they have been thinking of hiring mad scientists to try and find a way to get stronger bones. However, until then, they must get more credits to help with more funding operations in the Abyss system as a way to gain more money in the black market.

by **Rightful Revolution** » Mon Dec 28, 2015 12:27 pm

Comms Satellite, Heshtok Orbit

A flashing, grainy image slowly appeared before the Asari. The image took several seconds to snap into place, evident that the call was coming from Heshtok's poor infrastructure. The Asari swallowed hard and took a deep breath as she anxiously awaited Vyll to appear before her. Several seconds later a very angry Vorcha materialized and she clutched a stress ball just out of range of the Vorcha's line of sight; she hated Heshtok Vorcha.

"BAH! What are you doing here? Where is my Council?" Vyll spat, not even waiting for the image of the blue alien before him to fully solidify.

"Lord Vyll, you're call is several hours ahead of schedule, I can summon them now if you like..." The Asari trailed off.

"You are in MY system. Do not think I cannot deploy troops to Parasc if I so desired. You work on my schedule! Off with you! Bring the Council to me!"

"Summoning them now," the Asari announced, quickly moving to get of range of the video comms and back to her overseer duties at the mining facility. Playing diplomat with the Vorcha was never in her job description.

Several moments passed before five other Vorcha appeared before Vyll. These were the Vorcha Councilors of Parasc, the planet next in orbit to Heshtok. The Asari had founded this mining colony and trained the Vorcha in peaceful, non-violent work and had become somewhat of celebrities across the galaxy. Yet even though their peaceful attitudes relative for a Vorcha, the educated class here still desired the same goals of Vyll: a unified Vorcha state.

The five Councilors stepped forward, dressed in the welding gear except for one who wore traditional Asari clothing who must have been caught on his time off. The sight of these Vorcha instantly cooled Vyll's temper; these were not savages or mercenaries, they were educated, hard working Vorcha who were instilling a sense of pride in the Vorcha people.

"Vyll! What is the meaning of this? You will anger the Asari leadership here!" the civilian clothed Vorcha announced. His sentences were smooth and correct, a huge influx of fresh air for Vyll.

"Our plans have had a detour. We have finished off the last of the Vxoytl Clan and colony teams are already in route, but we did not anticipate a surprise landing by enemy forces near the coast. I've had to pull back our militia units for the time being, two of our air teams have been severely damaged," Vyll hissed. He didn't have a boss and these Vorcha certainly did not control him, even though at moments like these he felt powerless.

"WHAT? You were supposed to have steamrolled across the sub-continent by the end of this week! Do not tell me we are in danger of being pushed back!"

"There is no danger of that. My battle plan is solid, I am already preparing an assault force to strike in the next few hours."

"Then why summon us?" another Vorcha spoke up this time, one covered in grease and wielding a blow torch.

"I need welders, more this time. We are making progress training the new recruits but this attack will set us back if I can't get professional repairs started ASAP."

"We are already trying the Asari nerves as it is, we can't just deploy more of their employees..."

"DO YOU WANT A UNITED HESHTOK OR NOT?' Vyll bellowed. It was always his dream to see the Vorcha have peaceful political discussions, but how he hated them when they turned to words he did not want to hear. "I will have them returned, alive, within in the next two shifts."

The council of five looked each over before seemingly coming to a non-verbal conclusion. "Very well Vyll, the Vorcha are yours. May Heshtok soon lie in your hands."

by **Liecthenbourg** » Mon Dec 28, 2015 12:41 pm

The Vol Protectorate

"Coin and Credits, My Boy!"

Irune, Aru System, Aethon Cluster
The Premier's Office, The Grand Bazaar

Premier Shek Els inhaled sharply. The ornate room was a grand one, furnished with grand tapestries and pieces of artwork. Behind him was the grandest of all the old paintings, one of giant proportions. It was of the Grand Merchant, Mehnee Dinero, dressed in his ancient garb of old. He was plump, like all Volus were. In his left hand he held a great and bejewelled cane, and in the other a pair of scales. His garb was reminiscent of an admiral of the 19th Century on Earth, and he gazed down upon the seat of the Premier's Office with menacing and fearsome determination in his eyes. The Premier's Office was always inherited by the next Premier; they never could request for a new room. Because of this the room had gone over extensive renovations over the years, grew larger, but the collections of fine items that were stored inside on display or for use where never touched - some even dated back to an era before Irune was unified under the Protectorate; back when this office was held by the wealthiest trader of his day - Mehnee Dinero.

Premier Els typed into his console as he always did, glancing over at the mug of a warm liquid. It was a hearty yellow colour, bitter in taste but sweetened with honey and spices from the southern portions of Irune. Many Volus of all social standing enjoyed such a beverage. Using his small and stubby Volus hands the Premier reached for it, drinking healthily from the cup before setting it back down, wiping his face with a cloth and returning to his duties of the day. As head of the Volus state his interest in commerce had downgraded slightly, now he was the mediator of all trade laws in Volus Space and the Galaxy - at least in Citadel Space. If any individual could determine the speed, worth and importance of a trade lane, create new ones, shut down old ones and manipulate the galactic market it was Premier Shek Els.

A sudden buzz came from the intercom on his desk. "Premier." the voice called, followed by a sharp inhalation, out of habit from being off world. "Your ten o'clock is here; its Minister Ova."

The Premier pressed the reply button upon the device. "Send him in."

"Yes, Premier."

The automatic door opened with a whoosh, and the waddling of Minister Ova was heard throughout the hallowed halls. A ray of artificial white light washed through the door-frame and the short and stout Minister of the Protectorate's Economy waddled in finally. He reached onto a nearby tray, snacking upon some finger food before continuing his walking towards the large desk at the extreme opposite end of the office.

"Premier." the frugal and thrifty minister called, as he pulled up a chair and tented his fingers.

"Minister Ova." a deep breath was taken by the Premier and he slurped and drunk his warm beverage. "What matters of the economy and state did you wish to discuss?"

"Firstly." the ageing Volus declared, holding up a single finger. "Is my detest at how the Turians still do not cooperate in our demands in that they send a portion of their fleet to escort our tradeships, but that matters not in the long run. With the Kwunu at Irune and a Turian Fleet at Palaven, and one inbetween, no pirate in the Cosmos will be able to plunder and pry from our economic benefits."

The Premier nodded slowly, gesturing for the Minister to continue.

"Secondly, I've already drawn up plans for this month's schedule in our projects."

by **Rightful Revolution** » Tue Dec 29, 2015 12:02 am

Heshtok, Hatash

"I'll be damned, I can't believe this." An Asari shook her head vigorously, eyes widely perplexed and mouth gently agape. "By the goddess you have certainly proved me wrong."

"Vyll has a great vision. Soon us Vorcha will rise and challenge the Humans, the Turians, and maybe even the Krogan! You just wait and see what we can do!" General Grek exclaimed. "Hatash before Vyll was just another burned out clan rally point on Heshtok's withered surface, now look! Modern buildings are beginning to rise, murder is down 85%, the streets are free of beggars! Heshtok and Hatash will soon be the next Illium!"

"While I am sure of your progress I wouldn't jump to that conclusion. Hatash is being rebuilt on the ashes of of over two billion deaths, you murder anyone who commits a non-violent crime and sterilize the dissenters. Illium may not be a paradise but you're making quite the stretch."

"BAH! What do you know! Hatash will soon be the seat of the Council ruled by the Vorcha! We will have Mass Relays dotting the sky! Our dreadnoughts will plow through the STG!"

"Your people just got your first mining facility up and running on this planet, which, by the way, required quite the loan. I'll assume you're leader, this Vyll, will be good for his money," the Asari remarked as she cast her arms across chest, standing defiant for the only alien planet side. Yet there was something about her confidence or her power, -her connection to money that staved off the Vorcha's aggressive instincts. Or maybe it was just threat of being sterilized that kept Grek from unleashing his tongue and claws at this rude blue alien. Whatever the reason, it was working. The Vorcha were securing contracts and building their infrastructure and soon there would be hell to pay.

"Yes, yes, Vorcha are good now! Vyll will pay! We will rival Illium soon!" Grek exclaimed. "Before we burn it to the ground," he muttered to himself.

by **Argentumurbem** » Tue Dec 29, 2015 4:42 am

Saprish Fedkoh smiled as he read the reports, thrice filtered through encryption/decryption protocols. The Supreme Leader had offered a lifeline to the Hegemony, to tens of thousands who had struggled for years beneath Gherish's failing leadership. While he had not joined in the fighting on Khar'shan, he still offered his allegiance to Balak. Saprish had not been a part of the subsequent culling which resulted within the military, but that made him no less a supporter of the new regime. No, he had shut down the defense systems on the palace walls, permitting the Camala legions to storm the gates. He had leaked strategic and logistical information to Balak's corsairs, allowing them to outmaneuver and destroy those ships which refused to submit. It was his lists which the victors used to eliminate political and military opponents, executions broadcasting across the Hegemony through channels Saprish had established. He was the reason for victory, and the new Governor-Marshal of the Unified States of Khar'shan knew it.

"We have been given an interesting task," the diplomat informed his aide. "Let us not disappoint."

Panis, dark skinned and pale-eyed, offered a shark's grin. "When have we ever?"

Dismissing the former soldier to attend to the diplomat's lunch, Saprish began the letters which would be dispatched to the various governors within the Hegemony. These powerful men, risen through the caste system through equal parts merit and deceit, were the key to the Hegemony. Without them, Khar'shan falls, with them, it rises above the Council.

by **Rightful Revolution** » Tue Dec 29, 2015 7:37 pm

Heshtok, Zhyll "Killing Fields" Coastal Plains

"Beta Air Squadron, what's your status, over?"

"Beta Air approaching hot zone fast, weapons primed."

"Roger Beta. New intel has a group of non-essentials moving south along the current fire wall. Complete your initial bombing run and then loop back around to complete your mission. Command out."

The radio link cut out with a sharp hiss and Vex was finally able to relax. His promotions had come fast and steady as Vyll roared across Heshtok and even though he was thrilled to unite the planet, he wasn't fond of his missions. His job wasn't particularly dangerous, in fact he was more likely to be killed by a mechanical error due to Vorcha trainees rather than anti-aircraft weaponry. Yet even though he was a Vorcha, a proper Vorcha, who craved violence and relished at the opportunity to draw blood from the enemy, something about this just wasn't right.

His GPS system began to beep, signaling he was within bombing rage. He maneuvered his aircraft for a drop in altitude as his squadron formed up behind him in a V shape. They came rocketing down from the lower atmosphere, unleashing hell on squatter encampments, makeshift forts, and retreating enemy clan forces. Watching the fire race forward was exhilarating, sometimes it even kept pace with the aircraft and for a brief moment he was jealous of the view the pilots behind him experienced, but he shook the jealous off. He was the squad commander and he had the terrible responsibility to bare.

He whipped his bomber around and headed South as his squadron scrambled behind to keep up. In the distance a great sea of orange dotted the horizon, evidence of where the flamethrower squads had been just hours earlier. What had once been a sprawling mass of slums had been reduced to ashes, churning up dust mixed with the charred remains of millions. This what he didn't like, there was no honor in it. He knew Heshtok was overcrowded and overpopulation was killing the Vorcha has much as the Vorcha were killing the Vorcha, but watching people burn just for being allied with the wrong clan left a sharp stinging sensation in his heart. If anything the Vorcha should be focusing on the Krogan or the Salarians or anyone else who exploited the Vorcha's might.

His GPS beeped again and his stomach lurched. Bellow him he could make out thousands upon thousands of black specks scrambling along in the light of the fire line; refugees trying to make it to the coast. His last payload would be his greatest, a fire bomb. A weapon developed to literally ignite the oxygen in the atmosphere so that even if the fire didn't kill you, the lack of oxygen would. He had no choice, Vyll would just replace him and sterilize his whole family if he refused. He dropped them bomb.

by **Ironsbad** » Wed Dec 30, 2015 5:24 am

Mitash Town,
Tortuga/Abyss System/Nemean Abyss

One of the two settlements that are aligned and housed Copper Jumpers and the ever-growing Vorcha sterilized refugees that found employment and housing with the powerful Vorcha gang. Today the GNN came on with the current events but the news that made every Vorcha stop was the one about Heshtok.

News just came in. The Unification of Heshtok has finally succeeded with a total of 2 billion dead as casualties of war. Many analyizers of the galaxy seem to condone the force sterilization and genocide of the Vorcha but it does come to note that many of the Council states and politicians are getting called for their opinions. On other news...

Everyone went back to what they were doing. To say that the Vorcha were all the same was somewhat true unless they are educated, such as the Copper Jumpers. Even then, the Copper Jumpers knew that violence pays but killing their own en masse was not good unless they had a lot of treasure. Many of the Vorcha who left Heshtok have told about Vyll and his killing of millions of Vorcha in order to cure the overpopulation problem.

This also came with many fertile clans who lived in the Station while other Copper Jumpers lived in the pirate hold of Tortuga. Many of them have been making homesteads and find treasure from the world so that they sell it on the black market on Omega. It was proven that more will come from the mass depopulation of Heshtok through Vyll's eugenics. The Copper Jumpers needed to start enlarging their operations inside the Abyss and would have to fight the Batarians who also reside in the Abyss. To the Copper Jumpers, this was a profitable venture for violence means economy and economy means more Vorcha.

by **Nuxipal** » Wed Dec 30, 2015 10:30 pm

Councilor Tevos
The Citadel, Widow Nebula

Councilor Tevos was entering yet another Council Meeting. This time regarding a Batarian pirate who had raided an independent Asari colony and tried to bring the captured individuals back through Citadel Space. He had been stopped by a part of the citadel council and had pleaded his case well until it came before the Council itself. Tevos looked down on him from her stand. The Batarian didn't look like anything special to her. Just another pirate who had attacked an Asari world that just wanted to be left alone. He spoke well and even cited that the Council permits the Batarians to exercise their ancient customs. Tevos put her hand up to stop his argument as he was about to continue. "We permit your barbaric traditions WITHIN the confines of your own sector of space. This council will not see you transporting your captives through citadel space to return to your homeworld. That is your crime. As you were attempting to transport unauthorized prisoners across Citadel Space, I have see no reason not to declare you guilty for Sentient Trafficking a crime which carries a 20 year sentence per being you had captive. If I remember right, the documents said you had 40 Asari and two Salarians in captivity. That would be 840 years in prison. So unless the other Councilors have a different opinion, I do believe the letter of the law is clear. Slavery is not permitted within Citadel Space with the exception of Batarian held planets."

She looked to the other Councilors, the Salarian Councilor was nodding in agreement. The Turian Councilor was the only one she was waiting on before she put her foot down and declared her sentence to be final.

by **Lunas Legion** » Thu Dec 31, 2015 1:10 pm

Councillor Trejus,
The Citadel, Widow Nebula

Councillor Trejus shuffled uneasily. The Batarian use of slavery had been the pressing question on the Council's mind ever since the Geth had kicked the Quarians off Rannoch. Mostly it was they didn't have much else to do, partially that without anything else to distract them from the question, like the Rachni Wars, the Krogan Rebellions, the Mourning War, minor internal conflicts, well, slavery would reach the Council's agenda eventually.

"The letter of the law is clear, in this case." Trejus spoke. He'd been a C-Sec officer in his youth; you had to know the Citadel's laws off by heart to even think of becoming a commissioned officer. "Slavery is not permitted within Citadel space, outside of Batarian areas. As slaves in transport to Batarian space are still slaves, the law has been broken. However, I personally must object to the sentencing. 840 years... Is somewhat excessive. Tantamount to a death sentence, which I say we should issue in it's place to set an example. If the Batarians wish to continue slavery, then they can run their slaving routes through the Terminus and Traverse."

by **Nuxipal** » Thu Dec 31, 2015 1:29 pm

Councilor Tevos
The Citadel, Widow Nebula

"Very well then Councilor Trejus. I agree in this case. While 840 years would be a suitable penalty for an Asari discovered trafficking that many sentients through Citadel space, a Batarian hardly can live that long. Unless the Salarian Councilor objects.." the Salarian councilor seems not to. "..then The Citadel Council sentences this man to death for the crime of Sentient Trafficking. We will have to meet with the Batarian Ambassador to discuss proper execution methods used by the Batarian Hegemony and to try and prevent more criminal activity within Citadel Space."

As the criminal is taken out of the meeting space she looked to the Turian Councilor, "Thank you for your clarity in the matter. If you do not have anything else for this meeting, I have one matter that the Asari Republics has put forward. The nomination of a new Spectre, Tela Vasir. Her history and records have been uploaded to all of our offices. I have already signed my approval and await the approval of the other council members. She could be put to work in dealing with the Batarian slavery issue quickly."

by **Lunas Legion** » Thu Dec 31, 2015 2:07 pm

Councillor Trejus,
The Citadel, Widow Nebula

"You're welcome, Councillor. Sentencing people for such lengths of time has never sat well with me. Verges on the definition of 'cruel and unusual punishment' to those of us without the luxury of massive lifespans. Far better to grant them a quick and painless end than to let them languish in jail."

Trejus blinked at the mention of Vasir. "I believe I have heard the name before, more than likely in a Blackwatch or STG report forwarded to me at some point. I'll take a look at the reports as soon as I get back; if you will excuse me Councillor, the Primarch is expecting a QEC from me shortly, and I would hate to keep him waiting."

It was a five minute walk back to his offices within the lower levels of the Presidium Tower from the Council Chambers, and with a silent nod of acknowledgement his secretary, some rising star named Aresei, let him in. Chances were she'd take over as Chancellor after him; that was normally how it worked in the Hierachy.

When he walked in the door, there was an orange full-body hologram of Primarch Etorian staring straight at him.

"Tolerably late, Trajus." Etorian barked. He was always barking something; orders, appraisal, punishment orders.... "Better than last time."

"I apologise, Primarch." He bowed his head slightly in respect as he moved to sit in his chair, the hologram projecting up from his desk turning to follow him. "What did you wish to talk about?"

"The current situation on the Citadel. Namely, that little sentencing today. Depending on the Hegenomy's reaction, I was considering diverting funds towards creating a new seventh fleet to assist in enforcing the more rigorous anti-slavery stance that the Council has begun to hold."

"I would begin construction on such a fleet, Primarch. Even if the slavery situation doesn't devolve into an open rebellion, which the Hegenomy cannot hope to win, the extra ships would be much appreciated by our neighbours. I have a meeting of the General Staff in about half an hour on the matter, and your input will be most valuable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must prepare." The hologram dissolved back into it's usual haptic interface.

"And what was that candidates name..." Trajus muttered as he flicked through a mix of spam, sponsorship advertisements, and eventually something that was actual official Council buisness. The service history of one Tela Vasir. Extensive, there was no doubt about that, but no Asari Spectre wasn't experienced. Extensive Terminus connections, well, at least this one wouldn't drain the Council's limited funding even further. Nothing that wouldn't be expected or untoward.
He shrugged, and traced the strange mass of scratches that Turians used for signatures onto the interface indicating his approval.

by **Nuxipal** » Fri Jan 01, 2016 10:21 pm

Tela Vasir
Flux, The Wards

Tela was in one of the clubs, spending time as she wanted when she received a message. She was dancing with a Turian man at the time who looked rather concerned, so he said, "Don't worry about that thing today. Work can wait, we have all night to enjoy ourselves." Tela looked at him, "Actually, this message is more important than spending time anywhere else." The turian goes to try and say something, but stops when he meets Tela's gaze. She walks out of the club and proceeds to her Apartment on the citadel where she gears up.

She grabs her weapons and smirks. She was given an assignment, it seemed like a warm-up to a much larger problem, but she would be heading into the Terminus this time. She went and boarded her ship and hit the Relay heading towards the Omega Nebula.

by **Ironsbad** » Sun Jan 03, 2016 9:23 pm

Cornish Station

The smuggling ships come in and out with more and more Vorcha trying to find a home but the thing is, there was no more room. However, Vorcha are persistent creatures and can grow like an infestation. Many Vorcha started to pitch tents and make encampments like those on Heshtok. Zasn feared that if the station gets too overcrowded then his leadership will be compromised.

Zasn sat in the main hall with his most tactical and skilled captains and ground fighters in order to find a way to expand the Copper Jumpers and the Vorcha squatters they let in. " This is bad. Many Vorcha come. Too many Vorcha. Soon they fight. We must expand." Zasn made his point clear, the Vorcha will start to fight amongst each other for leadership of clans or to take over the Copper Jumpers. One Vorcha raised his claw up and Zasn saw it," speak you."

" I have found spot. Station in Abyss. Used to be Batarian. Now owned by Turian." The Vorcha brought up a computer and tried to connect wires to the table and start to type on it and showed a holographic image of the station. " Turian owns station. Station big enough. Take over station. Move Vorcha away from station. Tighten grip on Abyss."

The plan itself was good enough to try and martial the clan and push deeper into the Abyss. It was something that would needed to be done now or the continuous influx of Vorcha from Vyll's war on Heshtok. Zasn decided to do this act and sent out a corvette to scope out the space station and get dig around for the Turian who owned the station.

by **Elysian Kentarchy** » Tue Jan 05, 2016 12:30 pm

The Shellen, Admiral Val'Ulic vas Selani

"Ten-hut!" An officer yells as Admiral Val'Ulic vas Selani walks in supported by a cane. At 87 years old he is by far the oldest Admiral in the entire Fleet and the longest serving one in its history. He also commands the Heavy Fleet. Despite all that he still has a very sharp and determined mind who prizes the Fleet above all else.

"Recruits." He begins from behind the podium. "I thank the Ancestors that you have come to this meeting. Keelah Se'lai."

"Keelah Se'lai."

"The Fleet has always been our home, our shelter, our refuge from the monsters known as the Geth. We were cast out from our home by our own creations and condemned to be galactic pariahs by the bigots and bosh'tets on the Citadel. But that doesn't matter. For centuries we have endured our situation in space and we will continue to do so. To us there is nothing but the Fleet. There are those who happily just cruise along as if we are completely safe from the outside. But that is untrue. We are always one hull breach, one accident, away from disaster. That is why the Fleet must be protected at all costs. That is why we must be ready to lay our lives down for the Fleet. As Admiral of the Heavy Fleet I place my trust in all of you to protect this Fleet. Our future is in your hands and the hands of every Quarian. Therefore let me send you off with these words: Welcome to the Quarian Marines and Keelah Se'lai!"

"Keelah Se'lai!" They chant back and file out.

The aged Admiral sighs as he walks off. "Now I need to meet with Admiral Palent'Min to discuss her recent expansion of special forces. The Fleet must be ready for war if we are to retake the Homeworld." He sighs again. "That is why we must diversify ourselves. We cannot win a war from the ground but being ready to land troops on the ground who can fight and hold their positions can only be good for the Fleet's abilities." He looks out the window. "The Homeworld... it is something I keep seeing in my dreams. I know I will never see it but that doesn't mean I can't help assure future generations will."

The Shellen, Admiral Feara'Taln vas Shellen

"I don't care about living space requirements!" Admiral Feara'Taln yells over the workers who are assembling new ships. "Defending the Fleet is of greater import and the Shellen has the production facilities needed to assemble those ships!"

"But Admiral..."

"Not buts! When the new ships are built we will be safer and have more living space. Therefore we must do this for the good of the Fleet anyway."

"Yes Admiral."

With that she sighs and walks away. Dealing with people like this and the Conclave is nothing more than a political circus yet she agreed with Admiral Val'Ulic that expanding the Fleet's defense and war capabilities was a good idea.

Expenses:

Code: Select all: Initial Amount: 630 (on the Shellen where almost all of this will take place -20% Starship Production time and -10% production time in general) 1 Marine Division with Electronic Warfare Training (32, 3 months remaining) 1 Marine Division with Drop Troops, High Quality Weapons, and Advanced Kinetic Barriers (37, 3 months remaining) 1 Marine Division with Drop Troops, Heavy Weapons, and High Quality Armor (33, 3 months remaining) 1 Marine Division (22, 3 months remaining) 1 Heavy Cruiser with Drop Ship hanger (168, 4 months) 2 Interceptor Squadrons with Ablative Armor (36, 1 month remaining) 3 Frigates (75, 1 month remaining) 1 Mining Vessel (60, 3 months remaining) 2 Special Ops Squads with Stealth Training, Sniper Team, and Advanced Kinetic Barriers (on the Rayya) (62, 4 months remaining) Total Costs: 525 Remaining: 105

by **Theyra** » Wed Jan 06, 2016 12:33 pm

Hades Nexus- Hoplos system- Kel'Vo Station- Zaun's quarters.

Zaun was reviewing the reports from Trident on his datapad and leaning on a wall. The homes and the fortifications were done and scouts have found valuable minerals on Trident. But, most of the minerals are underwater and they don't have the gear or the facilities to extract it. Zaun presses a button on a nearby console and a holographic projection of the system is displayed in the middle of the room. Zaun looks at the projection and two Vorcha enter his room. "Zaun we have returned and have news". The one with a tattoo only on his face said.

Zaun puts his datapad away and turns to face them, "Nask you first, are the refugees coming here?

"No, they are not and are going to a place closer to Heshtok". "Most are going to the Nemean Abyss and none so far have tried to reach us". Nask said and has tattoos on both arms.

"Good but, if refugee ships start to show up, make sure that they stop coming here". "We only have room for one maybe two refugee ships at most and we can't handle a swarm of the refugees right now". "No deaths if it can be avoided and tell me if any refugee ships shows up". "Now you Vyrsh, any jobs for us?

"I found some who would be willing to offer us a job but, they don't pay well". Vyrsh hands Zaun a datapad of the list of offers.

Zaun looks at the list and looks back at the two. "We need all the credits we can get right now but, when we start making enough by ourselves". "Then we can stop being mercs and pirates and start to show that Vorcha are not vermin". "Vyrsh report back to me when someone contacts us for a job and keep a eye out for more offers". "And Nask keep me informed if any refugee ship gets near us or any ship that is not ours".

The two nod to Zaun and leave the room. Zaun goes back to looking at the holographic projection of the system and it flickers till Zaun kicks the console in annoyance. "When we control the system and stop being mercs........ then we will start to show what the Vorcha are capable of", Zaun said in a determined tone.

by **Ironsbad** » Thu Jan 07, 2016 7:58 pm

Cornish Station,
Abyss System, Nemean Abyss

The Vorcha were gathering weapons and ships ready for the invasion of the station. They knew it would begin at the beginning of the new month but it was necessary to accommodate the large amounts of Vorcha refugees coming from Heshtok. Guns were being made and suits were being issued for battle. The new corvettes were built and were being ready to fight next month. The Copper Jumpers were expanding for they have to or they will collapse.

From the digging of the info gathered by the very few allies of the Copper Jumpers. The Turian had a small fleet and like to collect Prothean artefacts. This was good for Zasn would need more money in order to expand operations in the Abyss and even more.

by **Kinistian** » Sat Jan 09, 2016 11:54 pm

Salarian Union||Dalatrass Argip Solano||Sur'Kesh

Argip sighed deeply as read though the numerous reports and documents regarding various other Dalatrasses and other council race politicians. The Dalatrass then stood up to walk towards a large window in the back of her office. She looked out into city,seeing the jungle mixed perfectly with Salarian architecture.

The calm soothing moment was soon interrupted as two STG agents entered the room."Dalatrass Argip"they said and saluted before carrying on with their report. It seams that the galaxy was going though a period of Military build up,no doubt speared on be her militaristic acquaintances,The Turians.

Of course there was nothing she could do to stop it. The best thing she could do was try to keep her Specie's borders safe while continuing to expand Salarain industry.

by **Nuxipal** » Sun Jan 10, 2016 9:49 am

February 2157
With the Galaxy pushing on the Batarians on the point of Slavery, dozens of Batarian citizens begin searching for a lesser known route to acquire slaves for their homeworld. With the traditional routes through Citadel Space now closed to them by council ruling and potential death penalty, they are forced to do something else forbidden by the council. Open new Relays behind which no one knows what lies.

- Batarians gain 1 Exploration Ship

On Heshtok, the armies of Vorcha fighting soon became Galaxy-wide news as a planetary government would permit them to apply for application to the Citadel for an Embassy. However, very few believed this would be granted and many thought that the council may even step into prevent a full unification of the Vorcha homeworld of Heshtok. As a result, several Citadel Council races see a brief rise in recruitment. However, the rise in numbers of Vorcha under the command of the Heshtok Clan rises as well.

-Asari, Salarian, Turian, Batarian, Hanar, Elcor, and Volus all gain 1 infantry unit.
- Heshtok Vorcha gain 7 Infantry Units

Within Systems Alliance Space, exploration continues. Civilian Explorers claim to have found another relay, this one in the Skyllian Rift Cluster. They promise to show the Systems Alliance navy the relay in return for funding of future expeditions.
- Systems Alliance gains an Exploration Ship

Mass Effect :: First Contact (IC)

Mass Effect :: First Contact (IC)

Month 2

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