In a vast, amphitheater-like briefing room, Hannah Shepard sat on the edge of her seat, straining to absorb every word from her Malukor instructors, Khaen and Shaani of Clan Gerrel, stationed below.

“Never, under any circumstance, look directly into a war construct’s power core,” Shaani said. “If you do, then Keelah…may the ancestors be with you.”

She conjured her omni-tool – as the quarians called it – then input a few commands before a hologram of a biomechanical terror flickered into existence, drawing gasps from her companions.

“This,” Shaani said, her voice echoing in the room, “is the most common of their constructs.”

“Their ground infantry,” Khaen added.

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor momentarily, as her heart pounded. Goodness, the construct was a faceless, four-legged abomination with an oily, black carapace. Its robust segmented torso pulsed with a radiant power core that shimmered with a spectrum of colors.

“And its main weapons,” Shaani said, highlighting the construct’s tentacles, “are these four appendages, capable of firing a variety of projectiles.”

“Primarily plasma bolts and super-sonic tungsten slugs,” Khaen clarified. “When facing them…”

Her throat tightened at the mention of such destructive firepower. Yes, no human had ever faced infantry with such weaponry, and the potential carnage they could unleash sent a chill down her spine. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath. Stay strong. Yes, for Mark and her boys.

You’ll get through this.

The past four days had been a whirlwind of grueling combat drills in their new gear, along with ceaseless briefings on the Silent Ones and their strategies. Khaen and Shaani had pushed them to their limits, granting only just enough rest to keep their spirits from shattering. And she couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu, as if she was a green cadet again at Luna’s military academy.

She sighed. Outside their armor, Khaen and Shaani were also a sight to behold. Unarmored, they donned simple, black cloths and boots over a high-tech body glove, leaving their faces exposed. And they were a stark contrast to the suitless quarians Rael had shown her in his presentation.

Indeed, Malukors were the epitome of quarian genetic engineering. Their alien beauty and deadly aura made them seem like demi-gods amongst the quarian people.

“Often, you’ll find many of these constructs,” Khaen said, as he conjured his omni-tool, “supporting one or more of these…” Khaen typed in a few commands, and the hologram changed, revealing the next Silent One war construct, a giant, biomechanical spider with a tentacled face, capable of deploying swarms of tiny attack drones and armed with a monstrous main cannon.”

“Their equivalent of tanks,” Shaani said.

“Undoubtedly, the Silent Ones will deploy many of them during the evacuation,” Khaen said, “and if you ever encounter one, do not engage.”

A knot twisted in her stomach. The thought of such a creature on the battlefield sent a chill racing through her insides.

Briefly, Khaen looked at Shaani, and she nodded. “Other squads will handle them while you are escorting your fellow humans.” Khaen cleared his throat, then paused as if studying everyone’s reactions. “Now, before we move on to the next construct, do any of you have any questions?”

Anderson raised his hand. “Is their power core a weak spot?”

“Good question,” Shaani said, “And yes, it is. Destroying it will sever a construct’s connection to the Silent Ones’ collective consciousness. However…”

“It is always protected with heavy shielding and layers of armor,” Khaen said. “So often, you will have to concentrate fire on where its shields are weakest first.” On the hologram, Khaen highlighted the region in which a construct’s shields were the weakest, around the rear and flanks.

Briefly, she looked at the ground. Goodness, the galaxy was filled with such horror, and now the reality of what they were facing was sinking in. What are we going to do?

She looked at her companions, and their faces reflected the same mix of fear and determination. Damn it, they were in this together.

And now was not the time for second thoughts.

Next, Khaen and Shaani moved on to the next few constructs, including an aerial construct, resembling a sleek, black crescent, a stealth and recon construct, resembling a faceless, shadowy panther, and finally a commander class construct, resembling a towering, armored humanoid, detailing their behaviors, along with their strengths and weaknesses and the best tactics to face them.

Finally, Shaani closed the hologram. “Now that you know the basics, let’s head to the combat simulation deck to apply everything you’ve learned in mock evacuations.”

“Except for you Khanah’Shepard ,” Khaen interjected. “Captain Zhoru wants to speak to you personally in his ready room.”

A jolt ran through her, and her pulse climbed. Meet me in his ready room? Why did Zhoru want to meet her personally? Yes, in the evacuation, she would not have an active combat role, but Zhoru had hardly spoken to her since they departed for Mindoir.

So what could he possibly want?

As her companions left the room, following Shaani, Anderson paused to give her a reassuring nod. Smiling, she returned the gesture. Such a good friend.

When she was finally alone, Khaen approached her. “ Khanah’Shepard ?”

“Yes?”

“Follow me, please.”

She stood up. “Lead the way.”

Khaen gave a curt nod. And with a sense of trepidation, she fell into step behind him, following the quarian super soldier towards Zhoru’s ready room.

As they traversed the labyrinthine corridors of the ship, she couldn’t help but marvel at the stark differences between this vessel and the Endaara. Yes, unlike the Endaara, the deck and hull were made of some dark, sleek alloy, bathed in soft, red light from countless lumen strips. Countless turrets lined the ceiling, and every few minutes, Khaen had to stop and say passphrases at security checkpoints, where automated scanners swept over them with a low thrum, the turrets tracking their every move.

Must have had trouble with boarders. Yes, but who would ever be stupid enough to board a warship like this?

Eventually, they stopped just outside a large, circular door, like the entrance to Zhoru’s ready room.

“The Captain is waiting for you inside,” Khaen said.

“Alright, thank you, Khaen,” she said, and Khaen turned on his heel and walked away. Goodness, is even capable of lightening up? Given his job, she could hardly blame him – or any Malukor – for being so uptight. But ah, no matter. She had a meeting to attend.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, towards Zhoru’s ready room. As if sensing her readiness, the door slid open with a low, metallic hum.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Inside, she found Zhoru standing with his back to her, talking to a hologram of another Malukor clad in one of their standard battle suits. Two other holograms flickered in the room.

And both were of asari.

Her eyes went wide. Her jaw dropped. Asari?! What in the–

Briefly, holograms went silent, staring at her as if they were seeing a ghost, and Zhoru glanced behind him. The Malukor’s face looked so calm and collected, his red eyes glinting in the dim light. “Ah, Khanah’Shepard. Come in.”

Hardly able to speak, she complied. Goodness, what is going on? As she stepped beside Zhoru, feeling like a child before a council of elders, the two asari – one a man and the other a woman – were studying her, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe, wonder, and disbelief. Soon, they exchanged a few words with Zhoru in a language she couldn’t understand, their voices soft and melodic. And Zhoru replied in the same language, then nodded.

“Zhoru?” she asked. “What is going on? Why are you communicating with these two Asari?”

Yes, weren’t they the enemy?

“ Khanah’Shepard, ” Zhoru said, “allow me to introduce you to three important members of our allies in council space – the Remnants.”

The Remnants? Remnants of what? Suddenly, it dawned on her, and her eyes went wide as she gasped. So that’s where our new gear came from. Friends in council space. “Of the First Federation?”

Zhoru nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. “Yes, of the First Federation.” Zhoru gestured at the two asari. And both were absolutely striking. Each wore a dark, hooded cloak over some kind of high-tech, armored skin suit. Both glowed with youth and beauty, their sapphire skin vibrant and iridescent, their golden eyes sparkling with intelligence and filled with centuries of wisdom and experience. “First, meet Masters Samara and Vysaeris of the Justicar Order.”

Justicar Order…

Yes, Rael had mentioned that a kill team of justicars had slain the Great Khan of the krogan during a climactic battle of the Krogan Rebellions. But why would they stand against the Thessian Empire?

As she looked at Samara, the justicar master performed a formal bow, her hand placed over her heart, whilst saying something in her native language. Unlike Vysaeris, it seemed asari women had backward-sweeping scalp crests instead of a bald head. Likewise, Master Vysaeris bowed, then spoke in the same language, his voice deeper and more resonant.

“Both are very pleased to meet you,” Zhoru said, “and want you to know that in all their centuries of living they never expected the mythical Terra to be real, nor to ever meet one of their kind’s primogenitors – the humans.”

For a moment, she could hardly speak. Goodness, what could she say to that? What could she do? She mirrored the same bow they gave her, as best she could. “It is an honor to meet you both.”

Samara and Vysaeris exchanged a glance, their expressions softening.

Next, Zhoru pointed at the Malukor. Tall and imposing, he wore black cloak with purple filigree over his armor, which had a purplish tint than Zhoru’s. “Next, meet General Haarun’Zorah, the commander of all the Remnants insurgency operations.”

Haarun nodded, then told Zhoru something in the quarian language, his voice gruff and authoritative.

“He says that it is an honor to meet you,” Zhoru said, “and that you are very courageous and honorable to have volunteered for this mission.”

“Oh, why thank you,” she said, smiling. Looking at the General, she couldn’t help but wonder how old he was, and how it must feel for him to be thousands of light years away from his people when they had finally found a new home. She cleared her throat. “ So now that we’re finished with introductions…” She looked at Zhoru. “Tell me, what were all of you talking about?”

Samara and Vysaeris started telling Zhoru things in their native language. And Zhoru replied in the same tongue, then nodded.

“We were just discussing how the Thessian Empire and the Turian Hierarchy have noticed my people’s disappearance from galactic civilization and have already begun sending out probes and scouting ships into uncharted space.”

Samara told Zhoru something in her native language.

“And that according to our spies,” Zhoru continued, “that they are assuming the worst, that we have fled into uncharted space, seeking a new homeworld in territory outside their jurisdiction – where once again we can rise as a great interstellar power.”

Gritting her teeth, she clenched her fists, then huffed through her nose. Was the Great Betrayal not enough? “Why can’t they just leave you alone?”

Vysaeris told Zhoru something, and Zhoru nodded.

“It is because of the asari civil war,” Zhoru said. “During it, we supported the losing side – the republic loyalists – and in the aftermath, the new Citadel Council saw us and what remained of them as a threat to their rule, as the last remnants of the old galactic order, who fell into corruption and decadence, and who allowed the rachni and the krogan to lay waste to galactic civilization.”

She paused, processing what she just heard. Goodness, the weight of the astro-political landscape was so much heavier than she imagined. Yes, the alliances, the betrayals, and the power struggles, all on an interstellar scale…it was much to take in.

And soon, it seemed humanity would find itself caught in the middle of all of it.

Haarun interjected, telling Zhoru something in the quarian language. His tone was serious, his words carrying a weight that seemed to fill the room.

“The good news,” Zhoru said, “according to General Haarun, is that – for now – they are looking in all the wrong places, that it will likely take years for them to find us.”

Samara interjected, telling Zhoru something in her tongue, and Zhoru nodded.

“And that – with the help of our spies – it will take them even longer,” Zhoru said.

She sighed. “Good to know.” A pang of icy pain racked her chest. Yes, despite all of this, was it inevitable that the Citadel Council would find them? That humanity would be thrust into fires of its first interstellar war?

Samara and Vysaeris told Zhoru something, and Zhoru nodded.

She tilted her head, then narrowed her eyes. “What did they just say?”

“They must leave now,” Zhoru said, “but want me to tell you one last thing.”

“Which is?”

“That when the time is right,” Zhoru said, “the Remnants and what remains of the Justicar Order will rally to our cause and fight alongside us in the impending struggle for our freedom and independence.”

Briefly, she met Samara’s gaze. “Thank you.”

The justicar masters gave her a solemn nod, then bowed once more before their holograms winked out.

Meanwhile, Zhoru shared a few final words with Haarun, and then Haarun gave a firm nod before his hologram also winked out.

In the ensuing silence, she took a deep breath. Goodness, every day, this situation was getting more and more complicated. Indeed, the future of humanity was on a knife’s edge, and now, it seemed as though the tiniest misstep could plunge humanity into a catastrophic disaster.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to anchor herself in the present moment. Yes, now was not the time to worry about the future.

“So…” she said, facing Zhoru, “is this all you brought me here for? So I can be aware of all of these developments?”

“Partially,” Zhoru said.

She tilted her head and furrowed her brow “Partially?”

“Yes, while I wanted you to be aware of these developments, and was fulfilling Master Samara and Vysaeris’ request to meet you – to see an actual primogenitor of their species – for the first time,” Zhoru said, “there are also other pressing matters we must discuss.”

“Other matters?”

“Yes,” Zhoru said, as he conjured his omni-tool, “so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Zhoru input a few commands into his omni-tool, and behind him a grav chair rose from the floor. She glanced behind her, only to find another such chair, hovering above the ground. Momentarily, her eyes went wide. She exhaled. Goodness, the quarians and their technology…would it ever cease to amaze her?

She sat in it, then took a moment to absorb her environment. Zhoru’s ready room was minimalist, with sleek, dark surfaces with just a few war trophies, including the skulls of a few turians and krogan, an intricately carved blade, and a holographic portrait of a smiling quarian woman with amber eyes and lilac skin.

Must have been before the Great Betrayal. Yes, the quarian woman was wearing a flashy silver-blue dress, along with a delicate silver necklace ending in a luminescent medallion, engraved with intricate quarian glyphs.

Who was she?

Looking at Zhoru, she couldn’t help but notice a similar necklace around his thick neck, its medallion glowing subtly against his body glove.

And suddenly, it dawned on her. Better not pry.

“Now, in all the days you and your companions have been on this ship,” Zhoru began, “we have hardly spoken to each other. Given that we will be working closely for the remainder of this mission, and considering how our species will likely become very close allies, I believe it is important for us o understand each other better, to foster unity and cohesion.”

She smiled and couldn’t help but appreciate how he was treating her. “For unity and cohesion?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning forward and steepling his hands, “Khaen and Shaani have reported that you and your companions have been performing admirably over the past few days, that you learn quickly and work effectively as a unit, but…”

She narrowed her eyes. “But?”

“But that you struggle to work cohesively with your quarian allies,” Zhoru said. Zhoru sighed, then leaned back into his seat. “Yes, it seems our species have quite distinct military doctrines, and I must confess that I hardly know enough about humans to bridge this gap effectively.”

Her eyes went wide, and she let out a weak laugh. Wow. Yes, Zhoru was entrusting her with such a significant task, one that could lay the foundations for how humans and quarians fought wars together. “I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Excellent,” Zhoru said. Again, he typed a few commands into his omni-tool and the holo-projector came to life, showing a hologram of a tactical battlefield layout of Mindoir, with its key strategic points and potential evacuation routes highlighted. “Then let us begin.”

Briefly, she smiled. Yes, if this mission panned out smoothly, would whatever system they’d devise lay the foundation for human-quarian joint military operations? If so, then what would Mark and her boys think about all of this, about her role in shaping humanity’s destiny?

Just as she was about to voice her thoughts and delve into the discussion, she had no doubt that they would be proud.