Chapter One

"Captain, entering relay in three… two… one…"

The ship shook under captain Valcan's feet, the small but very noticeable tell of relay travel.

"All clear Captain, a bit of ice but nothing close." Came Helmswoman Varrick, a very dependable and skilled pilot if Valcan had any right to judge. The bridge crew let out a collective breath. Jumping through unexplored relays was always a dangerous prospect. It happened now and again in the early days of Turian, Salarian and Asari history that exploration vessels met an early demise as it ran straight into whatever debris had managed to cling to these massive structures. It seemed the spirits was with them today though.

Valcan and his ship was attached to the 66th Patrol Fleet who by commission from the Hierarchy had started a wide scale survey mission to explore, map and secure the still inactive relays within the attican traverse. Four relays had been so far unlocked. Three of which he and his crew had personally found and two they had the honour of first using.

Even though it was a wide scale operation it was going slow, only one relay at a time was activated before one lone ship was finished poking around every star within ten lightyears. Meanwhile the whole scout fleet sat safely at the ready to beat back any new Rachni threat that might be lurking on the other side. Luckily none had been found.

It was slow and at times quite boring work to scan any and every celestial object they found, looking for minerals and the few lucky gems they could find, garden worlds. They had found two so far that looked promising; sadly all of them had been so far Levo based worlds.

He could only hope this new system held the promised Dextro-world that would make this whole operation worth it. What glory would it not bring him to have the honour of naming his own planet. He could only sigh at his little daydream, but how could he not. He would be immortalised in Turian history!

"Captain, detecting eight planets around a single yellow star, point-four size." The scanning officer Garvel told him from afar. Valcan could not help put perk up, that was a surprising large amount of planets for such a small star. Young too.

"Can you read anything else?" He asked from his podium.

"No, Captain, the system is cluttered with micro objects, we are also very far away, just at the edge of the system inside an outer asteroid belt."

A solid surprised round of sounds came from his crew. No wonder it had so many planets, it must have had an abnormally high amount of matter.

"Keep me posted, Ensign." Valcan ordered.

"Alright crew, we have waited long enough now, time to get moving. We do this by the book, a quick pass by of all major bodies then we work our way slowly back with a more thorough scan."

"Yes, Captain!" his crew answered him and then they were on their way.

The first planet they passed, an Ice giant, had nothing of real note. A few hours later they whipped by a green ringed gas giant, only thing that Valcan could note was its odd axial tilt, usually planets tended to spin with their orbit. He was not an astrologist so he had no idea how to explain this anomaly.

They sipped by another gas giant, this time brown, it also had rings which was not too unusual for these kinds of planets.

They swung around another, the biggest planet in the system, and unsurprisingly also a gas giant. The scanners picked up a few moons as it had done with most of the others objects though this one had hope. The scanners picked up a warm core from one of the little moons and it was covered in ice, which meant running water. His eyes sparkled at the prospect, running water often meant life, time would however tell if it was any life to brag about later.

The fifth planet was interesting as it showed signs of having running water and a… well passable atmosphere, nothing breathable but it counted as a good thing nonetheless.

They passed through another asteroid field, not too dense but the rocks was huge, most fields tended to be less traversable in his experience with them.

Then with a sudden gasp from the helm he was thrown into the railing in front of him, stopping him from falling into the galaxy map.

"Explain yourself, Varrick!" Valcan shouted a very angry growl at his Helmswoman.

"Captain, come quick!" Came the woman's voice, sounding panicked.

Growling all the way, Valcan marched quickly into the cockpit.

"What is… it…" His shout petered out when he saw what laid floating in front of his eyes.

"By the spirits…" his voice barely managed a whisper. His jaw and mandibles spread wide in shock, an expression he shared with the pilot and co-pilot. In front of them floated their worst nightmare, an alien dreadnought.

Valcan swallowed, trying his best to not show how much this affected him. He hoped no one would notice just how hard he was gripping the pilot seat. His claws had made cut cleanly through the padded headrest.

Carefully he unclamped his claw, he could clearly see the gaping holes in its hull which at least had the worst of his nerves under control.

He turned and commanded,

"Garvel, the scans quick!"

He gladly noted his voice did not break, if a bit shaken, but it had not shown weakness!

None of the other bridge crew said anything even though a blanket of worry had settled over them. Everyone perking a curious ear towards the scan officer. It filled him with pride that none of them even so much as stood up from their seats even though he could clearly see that their curiosity was nearly overwhelming.

Impatient he took the handful of steps towards Garvel's position. His heart dunked up a warriors storm and was drowning out the low whispering murmurs, all speculating what had him and the cockpit so spooled up. He wondered how they would react to the news of another armed and very dangerous alien race.

Would they panic or would their training hold? Was he going to be able too?

Then his thoughts turned darker.

These aliens were dangerous, those holes looked melted to him, Damage he only could attribute to their phalanx point defence weapons… he shuddered, if he was right with his deduction they had on their hands a race capable of direct energy weaponry. Something not even the clever Salarian's could cook up. It was even so far has been stated to be physically impossible to make in any practical form… except missile defence and at times anti-fighter weapons, though they were very inefficient against targets with any proper armour, they took up huge amount of space and power. Its only saving grace that kept them in use was their cost effectiveness. While any conventional weapon ran out of ammunition the phalanx guns could still continue to fire. Barriers did little to shield against the heat these weapons discharged.

They was brought to great effect against the Krogan's all those years ago. Krogan's liked to brawl; in all fields of battle they preferred to be up and close in their enemies faces as they delivered devastating barrages of mass driven metal. The phalanx laser batteries did little to damage the ships themselves but the shield tended to fail quickly under a short barrage from them, enabling the bigger guns of cruisers and dreadnoughts to unopposed cut down even the most durable of ships. An entire line of cheap sacrificial support ships was made under that concept, small frigate with one or two of these phalanx batteries on them was invaluable in deterring and destroy any ships that ventured to close to the fleet. On their own completely useless but when used in conjunction with a dedicated mass accelerator ship… well, it was a very successful strategy.

With baited breath he hovered over the ensign's shoulder, watching the data the scanners was gathering faster than he could keep track of or even hope to discern. But one number caught him unprepared:

Size:1200m.

"By the spirits…" he whispered barely audible.

The ship was challenging even the biggest Turian dreadnought, the ship was not only long it was broad too having almost the same width and half that tall. It was a pure monster.

"It… it seems to be mostly hollow, Captain." Garvel whispered after a few more seconds. "The hull is thin for a ship its size and the insides are compact with large wide open areas within…"

Those words felt like smooth fabric on his skin. At least he still had the benefit of the doubt. Could it have been a freighter or transport? He shrugged of the thought, he had other more pressing questions to ask.

"Any power source?"

The ensign gestured in the negative.

"No heat, no electromagnetic activity, or… eezo." Garvel made a helpless shrug, "the ship must have been abandoned. My sensors do not pick up any nearby celestial bodies; only small scraps of what I would guess are scrap metal from the ship itself."

"Good… good." Valcan was happy that Gravel manage to calm him down with cold hard facts. It kept his mind from wandering into delusions and baseless paranoia.

He could however not shake the sense of unease. Somewhere out there in the system was something capable of destroying their little scout vessel… if they hadn't long since left… Mass relays was hard to find to begin with, and it had this time been hidden in a debris field of ice… for all they knew it might have been encased in it. So it was probable that they were not using them for travel.

He made a reassuring clap on Garvel's shoulder before he slowly walked back towards his command podium. A claw slowly stroking his mandibles in thought. What was he supposed to do? Should he break protocol and risk being blown up by his own fleet, should he leave the wreck for others to study and continue on his way… or, should he order an EVA to investigate further?

When he reached the podium he came to a decision.

"Varrick, bring us closer!" he ordered, "Prepare to board the wreck!"

Vanu leapt from the safety of the airlock and towards the hulking grey cadaver of the alien ship. A safety cord slowly drifting behind him. Two of his fellow marines were nervously peering out of the small opening that was the Sniffer's airlock, accelerator weapons clutched tightly in their grips.

Vanu quickly oriented himself with a few button presses on his omnitool, the small rcs-pack on his back flaring small Jetstream's of compressed gas through the small thruster ports in the pack.

His feet made contact with the surface with an ominous clang. He could feel the vibrations through his entire body. He nervously made a few careful tests to see if the mag-boots was working correctly. Many times he had heard horror stories of Turian's rookies that had been lost in deepspace when they discovered to late that their boots malfunctioned or simply did not get a grip.

He let his pent up energies out in a wavering sigh. Phase one completed.

He holstered his gun, again ensuring the magnetic lock worked as it should have, and unclasped the safety cord. He extracted the tether magnet and fastened it to the alien hull. The same clang vibrated through his fingers and toes. Again tested how well the magnet took to the surface with a few hard pulls.

It did not loosen. Phase two completed.

He released the death grip he had held onto it and gestured 'a okay'. The tether tightened as his fellow marines one by one attached their cable-climbers to the cable and after a minute of textbook grace made their way over in a quick and efficient manner that would have made their trainers swell with pride.

They nodded at each other and as one started to make their way towards the closest hull breech.

They soon came upon the gigantic hole that they had been aiming for. They exchanged nervous glances. The hole was huge! Vanu could even see the stars at the other end.

With weary steps the marines stepped in, carefully to keep as much foot surface on the uneven and warped metal. Only a few steps in they found and opening, what was left of a long and small hallway.

Barely wide enough to support two of them shoulder to shoulder, Vanu noted.

"Found an entrance, do we proceed?" crackled Fyarga's voice of the comm.

Only a few seconds passed before the, "Proceed," came back. Nodding they slowly and mindful of all the sharp edges went inside into the darkness.

A trio of helmet torches blinked on, throwing sharp and clear white light everywhere. The hallway closest to their entrance, Vanu noted, was bent and warped. The metal looked like it had been subjugated to extreme heat. It was cracked and jagged where the metal had simply cracked. It ended however quite fast, only a few metre in front of them. Closed and unpowered doors lined the wall to their left. At the end of their light they could spot a crossroad leading further on forward, and one that led further into the ship.

"Alright… let's go."

The doors, odd manual cranked ones, hid row on rows of bunks, beds and what they could only guess was tool storage. A more thorough look revealed that even clothes and other affections had been left behind.

Vanu stared at the odd picture that was stuck to the roof of one of the bunks. It was an… well, as far as he could see it was an pink hairy asari. That was… uncanny. The clothes however was uniformly batarian though alien in its detail and makeup, all of them green.

Humanoid and bisexual, militaristic and very adept shipbuilders… wonder what goodies were hidden behind all those non-functioning terminals? He picked up a paperback book that was floating around in a drawer. It was simple maroon in colour with golden text printed on it. The letters was unreadable and understandably alien. Vanu leafed disinterestedly through a few pages, idly wondering what was printed on them. Was it a manual, a military doctrine, or a some kind of novel? Half the species, he assumed, looked asari so it was not too farfetched that they shared more than just looks.

Shrugging he dropped the book and left it to drift in the vacuum. He did however pocket the picture, the captain would certainly find it interesting.

Fyargar and Mar left with him, Fyargar had seen fit to take one of these alien uniforms with him, probably too give it to the Captain too… or maybe he liked it, who knew?

Mar for some reason saw fit to snapped up the book he dropped on the way out. He shrugged, not questioning her.

They had to hurry and find out what those big hollow rooms in the wreck was before their Captain grew to restless.

They rounded a corner and was brought to a stop.

There in front of them floated something that made all their heart jump in their chests, an alien. On reflex their guns snapped from their back and unfolded to train their sights on it. However it never moved. It was dead, probably since long ago. Its skin was pale and bloated purple, its arms was thrown in front of its face, its clothes burnt and singed, at places Vanu recognized what looked like burn marks on its skin, something that looked distinctly like a salarian burn wounds…

He lowered his gun and walked up to the corpse. It must have clearly been one of the males its damaged but otherwise whole uniform was uniformly black, only a few white accents broke the monotone colour.

Vanu could only shudder when he realized what it must have happened. The whatever made that hole through the ship it must have superheated the air and cooked this alien alive.

He brought his omnitool up and snapped a few pictures before he tentatively moved the corpse out of the way. He could hear it hit the wall through his feet. It was frozen completely solid.

They threw a sympathetic last glance at it before they continued down the hallway.

They continued to search through the wreck, checking each room as they went. They found other alien cadavers along the way though very few showed the same damage as the first, most looked like they simply had suffocated or starved to death. It was sobering sights.

They soon found and strong-armed their way down an elevator shaft. They passed floor after floor until they reached what they were after.

They stepped out into the largest ship-based hangar they had ever seen. The roof extended so far up that they wondered whatever was so large that these aliens could justify it. It was so wide that it could have easily fit an entire village with room to spare. Spaced through the entire hangar was large gangways and support rigs meant for maintenance and ease of access for whatever was meant to be stored there. Vanu quickly made a calculation in his head and easily counted over two hundred of these rigs. Tools and containers of many different sizes was strew haphazardly around the whole space. It was as if there had been a giant earthquake in there.

Each rig had a marking of some kind, Vanu could only guess it was numbers if the patter was anything to go by. A yellow and black striped line made a square around each rig. Whoever attacked the ship had cleaned it well as nothing remained that could even clue him to what was supposed to sit in those rigs.

"Spirits…" Mar voice was barely picked up by their comm.

"Yeah." He could not help but answer.

"I think we are done here, let's get back to the Sniffers."

"Nothing?" Valcan asked.

"Nothing." Garvel answered. His face glued to the holographic screen in front of him.

Three days had passed since they parked themselves beside the gigantic wreckage. The wreckage had been scoured for as many clues they could about the whereabouts, the technology, and culture of this new species. It was not surprising that they learned very little. They had discovered sixteen hard-points where they guessed guns had been.

These aliens seemed to have been very selective with what they took with them, no weapons, no food, no nothing. Everything that seemingly must have been of value had been extracted or removed while what was left was small knickknacks, welding tools, and all other sorts of small tools that engineering had taken a love too, that is they very much preferred the array of specialized tools that they found amongst the remains than using their omnitool. Of course none had fit as these tools relied on standardized materials to use. Turian's tended to build their ships with bolts that was specially made for just that spot… that meant a lot of different gauges that needed a tool that fit all… which was where the omnitool came in.

He shook his head to shake that trail of thought away.

What was even bigger mystery was the dead. Why had they left their dead behind on this wreckage but hadn't with everything else… were they really that craven that they saw no value in their former comrades bodies? He had struggled long and hard to wrap his mind around such a concept, something he was secretly glad he could not.

There had been thoughts that this was a monument or grave of sort. That would explain why but something felt too… unceremonious for it to be. Which was why they kept a constant eye on the scanners. Valcan was not interested to test how aggressive this new species were and so he wanted to be able to flee the moment they were discovered.

He just hoped they would survive the three months before the allotted time came for them to safely go back through the relay. But that was a long time away…

"Captain," came the unsure voice of his XO, Fritz, "Shouldn't we continue the survey of the system?"

Valcan looked wearily at him.

"I mean," Fritz started to backtrack as fast as he could as he saw his officer's expression, "we can't stay here the entire time. Wouldn't our time be better spent making sure our mission gets done?"

Valcan sighed deeply and leaned down on the podium rail and stared at the holographic reproduction of the wreckage. Fritz was right of course, they couldn't sit there and wait forever… there were nothing more to learn from the derelict, its engines were bust, nothing but scrap and melted metal, dead weight only worth its weight in steel, nothing to shun at but it would never fly on its own again. There were no tell-tale signs of any mass effect drives…

Valcan did not know how many must have realized it yet but this species was highly likely in this system… and they already passed the only other planetoid that could have theoretically supported life, and the only one that was left was the distant spec on the other side of that yellow star…

He did not want to carry on with the mission because he knew they would make contact if they did… Contact with a species that was still waring with itself... He held no illusion that first contact would in any way be friendly. If they did not attack them outright they would probably do whatever they could to trap them.

Worse was that he could not admit to it, he could not admit that he was afraid. He would lose the trust of his crew, and worse still, be deemed unfit to lead. It would destroy his career, his entire life. He wasn't young anymore and losing his commission would doom him if not force him of the peacekeeping fleet.

But now that his second-in-command was finally starting to question his actions he had no choice.

"You are right Fritz, as always… prepare the crew." He turned as he spoke his orders and made his way into his quarters.

He sank himself down onto the small office chair inside. He leaned forward slouched against the small desk terminal. His head cupped in his hands, against all logic and reason he felt afraid of what was to come. He could feel it in his bones, the feeling of utter fear. He knew that moving on was a bad idea, but equally so he knew that no one, be it the hirarchy's high command or his own commissioned crew, none would accept his feelings on the matter, not without proof, and not if he ever wanted their respect ever again.

Officers were ideals, role models, for the lower ranking soldiers, they were supposed to be unshakable, unbreakable and for all intents and purposes infallible. One's gut feeling was never an acceptable excuse for actions in the Turian military, only logic and stone cold facts was ever the proper foundation one made one's decision upon…

He could only hope he was not dooming them all to an early death…

A/N: Here is a new brain child of mine. Hope you found it enjoyable to read as it was to write.

For those who wonder what ship they stumbled upon look up Gondwana-class on the gundam wikia.