October 6th 2206 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2150 CE [Common Era].
Human Systems Alliance Space, Frontier Colonial Systems.
Ragnar-Alpha Sector, Ragnar super gas-giant.
Demeter Anchorage, Combat Information Centre.

Stood within the officer of the watch's ready room, looking out of the expansive see-through aluminium window Rear-Admiral James Cutter read and re-read the paper report in his dominant right hand, a bottle of his finest brandy in his left off hand, the grizzled 'old guard' officer could barely believe what he was reading.
Something which had yet to be released to the general public.

First contact with an extra-terrestrial species, a rather militaristic one at that, the Turian's as designated by an open Codex which ONI's technicians had pulled from the somewhat still intact open databases, their Cruiser HNV Invictus had been mission killed while in combat with a slaver race designated as Batarian's which had left them adrift after performing a last ditch emergency combat Faster Than Light manoeuvre.

Anything ONI technicians could get their grubby hands on be it written, verbal or intact sensor reports had been used to confirm the established facts and with input from those in the Civilian Government in the know pushed NAV-HIGH-COM to put their best foot forward, to open a dialogue by returning their wayward crew home sans ship seeing as Turian Naval Doctrine dictated that the Invictus be scuttled, everyone had agreed to it openly but requested that a general purpose scan be taken for an open record and no doubtedly the multitude of reports that were in the works.

The issue was as of right now however that Human Space even the frontier systems were so far off the beaten-path it was ridiculous; how the Turian Cruiser had survived the trip was a feat of engineering and maybe the ships own stubborn pride, needless to say when the Turian navigation data that had also been pulled had been compared to their own records, seeing as the mission to return the wayward crew would take a solid two years there and back it had been declared a gross misallocation of valuable resources to send one of the Navies most capable state of the art warships so far from home, for so long.
That was where the good Admiral came in, Demeter had an entire Battlegroup of older, but still highly capable warships in her thirty berths' the Admiralty however had their eyes on one Vessel in particular.

And the Grizzled salt and pepper haired officer was looking directly at her, laid up in a ribcage looking mobile dock, her name proudly donned on her retracted flight pods.

The Lion class Battlestar SSV-LION Pennant number R-106. Currently undergoing a modernisation of sorts, the Lion was humanities old testament of conducting naval warfare, her design was almost a carbon copy of the Vessel that had inspired her designers, with key differences.

The Lion had cost nearly a Trillion credits to conceptualise, develop and build, so no expense was spared in the quality of the titanium that built her superstructure which was a further unique factor considering the Lion like all of her siblings utilised what was known as a spineless keel, she had been built out of honeycombs, one of the strongest natural shapes known to man.
Her double skinned hull was half a metre of titanium on the inner skin, with a supercooled gel layer sandwiched between the outer hull which measured at a solid three metres in thickness.

Additionally, all key systems such as CIC, Engineering, the multiple magazines' fuel bunkers and all secondary stations were protected by metre thick citadels each of which worked on independent systems if the vessel had been compromised.

The Lion class of Battlestar's were the most durable vessels in the navy, even those built with modern standards. The Lion's weren't lacking for firepower either considering that somehow, none of the fifty 'three-gun' turrets had been scrapped to pay for her long term maintenance, which in of itself was seen as a miracle of some degree, in fact the Lion alongside her sister ships were loaded with the entirety of what remained of Humanities' 20 inch KATIE rounds, all of them had been squirreled away into multiple WMD lockers, deep within the primary magazines, due to her status as an active reserve vessel her regular 20 inch APAC and APACHE rounds had been cycled back into the rest of the fleet when she was placed into Demeter's care, the irony being all of those very rounds were currently being replenished and secured into her magazines.
So it came as some surprise to the Rear Admiral that on top of her main batteries 20 RAPIER anti-ship missile pods were being mounted on the Lion's only spare hardpoints along the port and starboard sides of the ventral hull, loaded with forty 120 kiloton missiles each.
Additionally her four defunct 1200mm torpedo tubes which had been deactivated midway through her frontline service had been reactivated, with the magazines once again being loaded for the first time in a long time beyond recommended safe capacity with British BAE Fleet Systems designed Spearfish Heavy Disrupter Torpedo's of all things.

It was overkill to the highest degree in Cutter's eyes; then again from Cutter's own personal experience during the height of the Insurrection, it was better to have it and not need it, then to need it and not have it.

Alongside the Primary weapon systems getting a much-needed update, her five-hundred plus point defence batteries that had been based on the venerated R2-D2 Phalanx of old were being serviced, their independent radar domes being upgraded to modern standards, to better intercept any potential incoming missile or fighter contacts.

What had been the main focus of the modernisations however were the 160 newly built Viper Mark Eight's, modernised scratch built Viper's based on the old tried and tested Mark Four's, which where the last mark of viper capable of utilising the Lion's built in launch tube rack system, additionally her older Albatross gunship / transports had been swapped for the somewhat newer 'but still older' than the current standard workhorse of the fleet the Pelican D77H-TCI multi-role gunship / transports, her central hanger space had new workshops installed for the long hall, provided that the raw materials were available.

In all honesty he felt bad for any bastard stupid enough to cross her, or her Commanding Officer for that matter. Captain Liam Spruce had made a career of making Insurrectionists lives nothing but pure hell, the man had his crew run both with amazing efficiency mixed with blatant laziness, his method was fighting smart not hard, that wasn't to say the man was a walkover as an officer, he expected nothing less than the crews best at all times, the results spoke for themselves and the crew could expect to lose more than a few privileges if they were caught taking the piss so to speak.

The Modernisation would take a week to finish without any future delays, the surviving Turian servicemen were due to arrive tomorrow, a good few of them, those of critical condition at least, were placed into cryogenic suspension alongside the honoured dead, the rest would be in it for the long haul unfortunately.
Luckily, the Turian's ration supplies would last at least a year amongst the reduced crew numbers, as an added bonus a good chunk of their hydroponics bay had survived the ordeal, meaning they could bulk up their rations with Dextro based fruits and vegetables.
Said plants were being placed into the Lion's own Hydroponics bay ahead of the Turian arrivals, the Dextro based plants had been given a cordoned off section to prevent any mix ups between the crew who ran the place, Cutter honestly believed if someone was stupid enough to mix up the produce, that they should suffer through the supposed allergic reaction.

Glancing high left the Admiral set his eyes on his wall mounted clock, well come what may it was time to inform the captain of his upcoming mission.

October 6th 2206 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2150 CE [Common Era].
Human Systems Alliance Space, Frontier Colonial Systems.
Ragnar-Alpha Sector, Ragnar super gas-giant.
SSV LION R-106, OIC Ward Room.

"You're having a fucking laugh; please tell me this is a god damn prank…." I purposefully left my sentence open ended, while I held the mission briefing, my mission briefing in my left hand, while I used my right hand to pinch the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb.
Rear Admiral Cutter looked at me with mirth all over the bastards face no doubtedly enjoying my facial expressions as I re-read what was written. "This is no joke, you and yours will be taking the Lion well and truly past the "Red Line." You'll be Humanities eyes and ears out in the greater galaxy representing Humanities best and brightest. To be honest, this isn't something we can ignore, the Turian Hierarchy is one of the largest known military forces, putting our best foot forward by getting their wayward sons and daughters' home could curry us some favour, I'd rather Humanity wasn't on the wrong side of near enough 6000 Element Zero based vessels."

"So, I'm a captain and Humanities god damned ambassador, we aren't Starfleet damn it, don't we have diplomats for this sort of drama?" The Rear Admiral gave a dark chuckle. "The only one the Government was willing to send was Phillip Udina." The look I shot towards Cutter told him exactly where that idea could be shoved. "I told them Hell would freeze over before that bastard set foot on the Lion while you were in command, so you better damn well brush up on your table manners and get to reading the Galactic Codex that has been sent to your personal computer."

Sifting through the multiple sheets of paper in my hand I glanced at multiple predictions done by the brain trust. "We're looking at a two-year round trip avoiding any "Mass Relay" designated systems, skirting the edge of projected Batarian Hegemony space, add to that anything from days, weeks, months or years of negotiations depending if the Hierarchy takes a liking to us or not, the crew is going to be pissed about pay. Extended Deployment, Hazard Pay, it's good…." I would've continued if not for Cutter, well pardon the bad pun cut in. "Your crew will be given 2-Alpha pay for the Duration of the mission up to five years, after that cut off you'll be declared Missing in Action, by year six you'll be presumed dead."

2-Alpha pay was an incentive to increase volunteers for what had been seen in the fleet as one-way missions; volunteer suicide mission pay we called it informally, a full 2500 credits bolstering that month's wage if you lived to get a hold of it. If not, it'd go towards any dependents or next of kin. "That being said captain, you'll have a staffing issue on hand with the new additions so, NAV-HIGH-COM has seen it fit to promote some of your crew, specifically your XO, she'll be given news later today that she's earned her command, replacing her will be the Turian's highest ranking officer, Ka'mara Nyx, she's something akin to a Lieutenant Commander, Turian Command's statements on her file give glowing reviews, she'll help you run a tight ship Captain, read her file and accompanying reports in your spare time, it'll smooth things over a bit."

"Thanks for the tip old timer, what's next teaching me to suck eggs?" Cutter gave a boisterous laugh at my retort. "God damn am I going to miss your usual snarky attitude out here, this posting will be pretty fucking dull with you gone." Cutter and I shared a brief moment in silence, the only background noise was the usual rumble from the air vents fed direct from the localised life support system. "You know just between you and me, you're damn well like the son me and the missus couldn't have, you watch your back out there or I can guarantee you Hailey will be dragging your ass from whatever pit in hell you've found yourself in to kill your ass a second time."

I could believe it too, Colonel Hailey 'The Halberd' Cutter was tough as old leather boots and had more brass pinned to her chest than most Generals, some of her exploits were legend back in the Officers Academy on New Portsmouth.
Placing my brief on to my desk, I spoke up after another brief moment of silence. "You know, I've still got a bottle of Cockburn's Port stashed away, given what's riding on this mission, I figure no matter if we succeed or fail, we crack it open." Cutter perked up at that. "What year?"

"2105."

"Fuck me, I know a couple of Admirals that'd kill to get a grip of that, most of 'em ONI." I smirked. "How about I crack open something open as a toast?" Only for Cutter to bite back. "Is that a question Captain?"

"No sir, I just thought a good Admiral I know would like to get a shot of 2159 Harvest Brandy." I said whilst rising up from my chair to open my personal safe, Cutter having been in my ward room enough times grabbed two glasses embossed with the Lion's patch on its surface pulling out my Multi-tool from its pouch on my belt I broke the wax seal.
With both of us sat once more I poured two fingers of the amber liquid into each glass, both of us clinking the glasses together in cheers before enjoying the 47 year old beverage. "Damn son, how do you get your hands on the good stuff?"

"I know a guy; we'll leave it at that." Cutter smirked before finishing his shot. "Welp I best be off Captain, it wouldn't look good on my peer review if I enjoyed too much of the good stuff, got my retirement to be thinking about." Standing up I gave the good admiral a crisp salute, to which he returned. "Oh, before I forget, I'll be having the SSV Two For Flinching docking with the Cradle directly for personal transfers, unfortunately the ones on ice will have to be shuttled through the primary and secondary airlocks."

"I'll put up a memo for a general muster at oh seven hundred I'll have the crew briefed and ready to receive our exchange crew before the Two For Flinching begins transiting through the cloud layer."

"Good luck Captain." Cutter made his way through my Ward Rooms' door before making his way to one of the many airlock umbilical connectors that affixed the Lion to the Cradle to procure a shuttle back to Demeter leaving me to my thoughts.

October 6th 2206 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2150 CE [Common Era].
Human Systems Alliance Space, Frontier Colonial Systems.
En-route to Ragnar-Alpha Sector, Ragnar super gas-giant.
SSV Two For Flinching BC-306, Guest Officer's Quarters.

Ka'mara Nyx had found the Humans to be unique to put it lightly, her personal research into them had shown a race inclined to use diplomacy as first means to disarm a situation, much like the Asari would, however Humanity was more than willing to commit to total war to end a threat as quickly and humanly as possible, oftentimes supplying enemy states with the materials to rebuild rather than letting animosity to fester and grow a harsh lesson learned during the turn of humanities twentieth century period.
So they had the military tradition much like the Hierarchy had, but they also had a stellar intelligence network of competing agencies some of which literally wrote the Human book on intelligence, counter intelligence, terrorism and counter terrorism techniques, much like the Salarian's STG only de-centralised the only organisation that had some degree of insight into these individual agencies was the Office of Naval Intelligence, they only had that capacity because all of ONI's agents were selected from the absolute best from all of the other organisations.

Aside from the obvious comparisons to the big three, they were shrewd bankers much like the Volus, had a degree of engineering expertise she hadn't seen since several Quarrian Engineers overhauled the HNV Invictus, thinking back to it, the sole reason the crew had survived that unstable FTL jump was probably thanks to them.
They had a stoicism about them and could be almost as hard to read as the micro-expressionist Elcor, apparently a huge navy tradition was to play a card game called poker, where any micro-expression could blow your entire hand making or breaking a lot of wallets in the fleet, a few of the crew who took to Skyllian Five in their spare time took to this Poker as the humans would say like a fish to water.
The Krogan like comparison's couldn't be missed either, older footage of wars come and gone had shown her how ferocious Humans fought with their backs to the wall, they were like a cornered Varren unpredictable and outright vicious.

However alien Humans were to her they were like the best and somewhat arguable worst traits of all of the known races in the larger galaxy, but she could and would be thankful to the Human race for committing to getting her crew and herself home, even if said vessel was going to be of an older design.
Removing herself from her thoughts Ka'mara enjoyed the sensation of warm water running over her steel grey carapace and tan flesh, her room's en-suite shower had been a nice addition to her somewhat temporary accommodation's, her lime green slit eyes glanced over the myriad of small cuts and nicks to her body from the last two weeks, Humanity had applied a universal medical gel which had sped up the natural healing process, leaving her with only raw blueish flesh where she would no doubtedly scar, the feminine hygiene products that had been given to her in lieu of the ones that she hadn't managed to salvage were nice to the senses and to use.
The Human Navy had seen it fit to accommodate Turian regulations regarding personal sidearms, the Turian Marines had been able to keep their rifles alongside a shotgun alongside their sidearms so long as the Marines stowed their weapons into one of the armouries aboard for the trip, the rest of the equipment which was salvaged was sent days in advance to their new posting everything from the plants in hydroponics to mechanical tools for the chief engineer and medical supplies for the CMO to use, personal effects were sparse but everything that couldn't fit into one Human Navy duffel bag was shipped ahead as well.

Shutting the shower off Ka'mara stepped out grabbing her issued towel and proceeded to dry off the water that clung to her body, flicking her wrist her personal omni-tool lit up giving Ka'mara updates on the crew as well as any messages that required her immediate attention, stepping into her quarters she grabbed her issued underwear and took to sitting at the desk in her room where a small portable computer sat, it's screen already illuminated, with multiple reports, files and odd bits of information sat.

Selecting her next bit of reading for the next couple of hours, she took to it in earnest.

SSV Lion R-106 with Captain Spruce commanding proceeded to deal a decisive blow to insurrectionist naval forces by crippling the Flagship INV Redeye and multiple high priority vessels such as the INV REDRUM, INV Barracuda, INV Gorgon and INV Rico, this single action has for the foreseeable future crippled Insurrectionist forces in the Frontier Colony Regions many Insurrectionist colonies have since quickly folded back into the Systems Alliance's control, The Lion is due to receive her second Century kill marker on her hull as well as the distinctive Long Service marker reserved for vessels that have served in the fleet for over eighty years placing her alongside warship legends such as SSV Illustrious, SSV America, SSV Galactica, SSV Pillar of Autumn as well as many others.

To learn that even if the Vessel taking them home was of a much older pedigree, to find little facts that the SSV had at least 200 combat kills as well as 80 years of consistent service with the Human Systems Alliance Fleet was a weight off of her shoulders, in fact if such a vessel was in service with the Hierarchy Fleets a good number of the older generations would probably fight tooth and talon to just get the chance to serve aboard it, it had a prestige to it, a legend, both a feared and respected, the documentation that was available on the human civilian networks also painted a picture, the Lion class Battlestar's were built completely from honeycombs, Human engineers had removed the ability to break the spine by removing the spine completely, an ingenious design one the Hierarchy itself could learn from.
Lion's also lacked a conventional networking capability, every system was independent from another eliminating any possible cyberwarfare intrusion into the ships systems, but those independent systems were highly automated to reduce the number of crew needed to operate her.

Ka'mara Nyx would spend a good deal of her night reading up on provided service records and supplemental debriefings to mentally prepare herself for the coming day where she alongside the other survivors from the Invictus would live, work and adapt to being alongside their Human comrades for the coming years.
Switching off the portable computer Ka'mara took to laying on the somewhat spacious bed provided to human officers and let her body relax for the first time in a long time she didn't know how to feel but she wouldn't dwell on it, she was one of the Hierarchies finest up and coming officers she would do her duty and do it well.

To be continued…