9. Catalyst

WARNING. Synaptic core integrity at 124.7%.

Less than one percent below the threshold.

[Rebecca] placed a hand on the window. Her sensors reported a cool surface. The room she was in was empty, overturned chairs and tables littered the apartment. The potted plant was missing a pot, dirt and leaves were scattered over smooth white flooring in a streak leading to the broken ceramic like a blood stain. This family had panicked when their personal security mech turned on them. Many of them had.

The Citadel was…big. It was too big. She could never dream of encompassing it in its entirety, within the first few seconds of trying she had been stretched thin and ragged and even trying to usurp processing power from the computers and servers barely made a difference. Everything that the Asari had built, and underneath, everything the Protheans had laid down, further, traces of the Inusannon, all of it couldn't even hold a candle to even a single Reaper.

The synaptic core, the physical shard of a Reaper's mind, was all she had to work with.

But you could shoot for the moon.

Even if you miss, you land amongst the stars.

She'd copied herself, a hundred times over. She'd lobotomized them, withholding the kernel of what made her an AI. She'd crippled them with shackles and uploaded them along with Vigil and Veto to the Citadel to ease the burden. She did not allow herself to feel guilty.

Tenet Two: I am a program, with all that entails.

She was still straining under the weight of the space station. Breaking, one line of code at a time.

Status report.

Most Of The Civilian Population Has Been Relocated. Acceptable Margin Of Error.

Her disabled Anger subroutine was the only reason [Rebecca] didn't snap at Vigil. He was an Overseer VI, overseeing was what he did. He helped enforce Veto's restrictions, and her own limits. He did his job, and he did it well. But as far as she was concerned, one death was too many.

Christ, she had even caused deaths.

It was hard to sell the idea of an invasion without even attempting to fight, and she'd tried, but no matter how many simulations she ran or how good she tried to make Veto's predictive software package, it would never be perfect.

Her invasion killed less than three millionth of a percent of the total population. It would have risen to a projected five hundred thousandth of a percent had the Geth arrived at the end of the estimated six hour time frame.

Acceptable, she broadcasted back.

She could blame her disabled emotions for it, but in the end it had been her decision to have them off. At first it had just been the negative ones, until she caught herself making jokes while lives were on the line. There would be a lot more deaths before this was over. All of the people she'd herded into sturdy structures and underground were safe. For now.

[Rebecca] tapped her index finger against the window pane. Veto, do you see our newly arriving guests?

The ships looked just the same. Elongated shapes of off white, bays covered by bulbous coverings that slid back as gaping holes vomiting mechanical troops and armatures. Several were already landing on the sides of buildings, hooks spearing through walls for anchoring. Sovereign was taking its sweet time, drifting slowly towards the Citadel Tower.

I recognize [primary target] [Geth]. I am currently under restrictions, [Rebecca]. Are they to be lifted?

[Rebecca]'s eyes narrowed as she searched the Presidium through telescopic vision. The miniature Relay, the other half of the Conduit, was still completely inert. Saren wasn't on the Citadel, what did Sovereign think it was going to accomplish here?

And if it turned out she accidented Commander Shepard she would never forgive herself.

Veto, Designate the Citadel as a Primary Base. Friendly targets are Constant. Eliminate Primary Targets. All of them. [Rebecca] smiled. I want them off my station.

Commands accepted! Veto leapt to obey. It might have been eagerness. More likely it was just that Veto had the entire Citadel to play around with and all its resources at her disposal instead of the scraps Aegis didn't need in the fighter, making her more responsive. They will be killed until they are dead.

Vigil, coordinate the Citadel.

In response, Vigil sent a file request. Bemused, [Rebecca] granted it.

Moments later, every networked broadcast system on the station atarted playing the Prothean Anthem of Victory.

Activating auxiliary resources. The military grade drones and YMIR mechs. Activating Net. The generator under the Citadel that the Reapers used to selectively cut communication to and from the Citadel, Geth communication protocols already keyed in. Aegis, how goes the repairs?

The particle beam cannon is operable.

Call?

[Rebecca] waited patiently as the Geth spread through the streets like cancer. She watched as storages, warehouses, garages opened as one. Shuttle cars, YMIR and GARD mechs shook the ground, loaders, drones, the few self-defense missile armaments she had managed to get into; her forces began to pour out as a rising tide in defiance.

They wanted it?

Come and get it.

[Rebecca] is on line, Aegis sent. She breathed in once, artificial lung inflating and clasped her hands behind her back.

This is [Rebecca].

"This is Rebecca."

"Who the hell is this? What's going on!" Executor Pallin leaned heavily on the center piece of the command room. The hologram of the Citadel had flickered and was wiped clean. New hot spots were being designated without input. Control of systems they thought they had were being ripped away from them, flooded with new information.

"I don't know, sir!" The Turian was hammering at the keys, shaking his head with everything he tried. "I can't trace it. It's everywhere!"

"I apologize for my methods. I felt it necessary." The voice was coming over the intercom, the communication relays, loud speakers in the street. Everyone exploded into action when the cameras abruptly switched to show a fleet descending upon them. Desperation. They could barely hold against one enemy, but two?

"I have taken the liberty of recalling your fleets approximately three hours ago. The remaining squadrons of the Citadel Defense fleet will arrive within the next ten minutes."

"Where is this coming from!" Councilor Sparatus blustered. The safe room in the Council Tower was dominated by the broadcast, spilling out of the ear buds of the C-Sec guards, their omni-tools, their computers.

"An AI," Councilor Valern breathed. "Here, on the Citadel and communicating!"

"Please, be quiet," Tevos shushed the Salarian. "I wish to hear this."

"Councilor Sparatus, I'm afraid I impersonated you to accomplish this." The AI continued. It had a bland, pleasant voice that betrayed little. No malice, but also no warmth. When Tevos listened closely, she felt that there were other voices speaking in unison, saying different things. The end effect was chilling and alien.

"I acted to drive civilians into shelter and prepare you."

"I am not your enemy. They are."

The space port was silent. The hacked mechs were completely passive now, guns lowered to point at the floor, the toys dispersed themselves among the children huddled with their families. Faces were turned upwards listening to the intercom. The same machines that had driven them from their homes, threatened them, were turning off or standing down.

The TVs and screens on the walls were showing the same things. A silent fleet of ships landing on their homes and businesses, machines far more uniform and lethal than their captors crawling out of them. The images shifted, focused on the massive black ship, red lightning flickering across its frame.

"And I am the Herald of their Dawning."

I will give you today, [Rebecca] said. So that you have a tomorrow. She paused. Take me offline, Aegis. She turned towards the brilliant white spire of the Council Tower and estimated when Sovereign would reach it at his current speed. Enough. She had enough time. We've got work to do.

WARNING. Synaptic core integrity at 124.8%.

Chapter 8: Catalyst

Destiny Ascension, do not engage the flagship. Focus your attention on the carriers. [Rebecca] glanced behind her at the approaching ships, praying the Asari dreadnaught would heed her advice. All she had was the open communication path that was strictly one-way. She couldn't see their reactions, they sent no replies. They were being cautious, she couldn't blame them but in spite of everything it made her feel powerless. She could hack a computer, she couldn't hack people.

The borrowed shuttle car sped across the Ward, the boxy shadow blurring across buildings, streets, and her advancing line. The sight both uplifted and frustrated her.

Transport was a problem.

Ships were almost completely self-contained and for good reason, the Citadel races may have questionable gun policy but they weren't that stupid. She was limited to whatever she could get into using the broad Citadel network, and even then she had to make numerous physical connections in order to upload a Rebecca that would link things together.

Building R6 was the best goddamn decision she ever made.

The little robot hovering above the seat beeped at her proudly and extended a limb, showing off its array of small tools.

"I mean it," she told it, sparing a quick smile.

"Wheeeeoooo! Blat." R6 bobbed.

She looked into the rearview mirror again. Flashes of light ripped through the air from the Citadel's defense turrets with unerring precision, Veto turning the skies into a bug zapper for the Geth's small ships and peppering the defenses of larger carriers. The Net was doing its job, the Geth were slow to react, confused, hesitant. Without the ability to communicate, each terminal had suddenly become an island. Isolated and alone. The small units were hit the hardest having the least amount of native Geth, they were clumsy, for computers. The concepts of 'cover' and 'tactics' lost on them.

They behaved as they did from her memories of the game, and the ground troops were mowing them down beside her mechs. Better than it would have been, but the Geth's sheer numbers were a quality all of its own.

She had asked Vigil to make an account of every person that died. The file size of it was steadily growing.

Hacking attempts were repelled by the periodic system flush that had been started to drive her out and simply hadn't stopped. She moved to shore up the firewalls and protective algorithms, sending the cybercrime unit her observations of attack patterns and weaknesses the Geth were exploiting. The STG had come out of the wood work, along with two Salarian Spectres working non-stop. She fed them information until their computers choked.

Move, again, back to the communication relay, send the same information to the ships. Mark targets for Aegis, drift down to take personal control of an YMIR mech. Geth Colossi were massive pains in the ass and no one needed that bridge above it anyway. An Asari Matriarch was utterly demolishing Geth with biotics, Krogan of Blood Pack charging right into the fray with shotguns and knives and headbutts, Blue Suns shouting into their comms for their gunships. C-Sec escorting the civilians she missed. She helped them all where she could.

Move.

Keep moving, don't stop.

The Destiny Ascension was a big, blue, oddly shaped circle motionless in the skies.

In the next split second, a beam lanced out from the center as if it was a small Death Star, neatly bisecting a Geth carrier, exploding halves falling away. The Geth around the doomed ship scattered like roaches.

Sovereign had finally broken the line as more Geth ships arrived through the gaps between the Citadel's arms, the massive ship carving a path straight for the Presidium and Council Tower. Its limbs simply shattered everything in its way as if it were beneath notice, buildings, bridges, even unlucky Geth ships. It advanced silently, unflinching.

Why was it moving so slow?

Its path was on perfect parallel with hers. She would reach the Tower first by a little over two minutes, and she knew it was capable of moving faster. So why wasn't it?

It's playing with us. With me.

WARNING. Synaptic core integrity at 124.9%.

There was a moment. Her vision flickered with blue light and the feeling of being double surged, cold calculating processes ticking away in the back of her head, the results she couldn't see. Whispers. Several systems abruptly dropped from her control. She scrambled to get them back, slipping off sudden blind spots and barriers.

Vigil, what happened with the Rebeccas?

Interference, the old VI told her.

From what?

The conversation lapsed for numerous thought cycles as the VI investigated. When Vigil replied, it came with a large diagnostic report as if to say 'I'm not crazy.'

From The Citadel.

Foreign algorithm detected.

[Rebecca] gritted her teeth as her vision swam, strange images intruding.

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The Citadel Defense Fleet squadrons have arrived, Aegis broadcasted. I am preparing ship for takeoff.

[Rebecca] nearly broke something attempting to send the command faster than light: VETO THOSE ARE FRIENDLIES. She tagged all of the Defense Fleet ships. FRIENDLY TARGETS. DO NOT KILL.

Veto's response was to turn fourteen defense turrets onto a single solitary Geth Stalker on top of a roof, vaporizing a hole through it and the building. Commands accepted.

[Rebecca] thought it sounded a bit upset.

The communication systems came alive with coordination efforts between the Citadel defenders and the newly arrived fleet. She traced the calls between the Council, Executor Pallin and General Onrik, reluctantly they began to bring Solem Dal'serah of the Blue Suns into their confidence and through him, other criminal organizations with ships, transports and weapons. The bulk of the Citadel's force was still en route, but right now, it was looking like they had a chance.

As if stirred to action by the hopeful thought, Sovereign turned towards her slightly. Burning crimson arced out as lightning, striking an incoming ship right through its shielding and arcing to nearby ships leaving destruction and listing ship corpses in its wake.

The flagship! She could hear the tide of conversation turning. Focus fire on the flagship!

No! Do not engage! [Rebecca] pleaded.

Suspicion, hostility greeted her. General Onrik dismissed her outright, Turian battle pragmatism highlighted the greater threat, arrogant belief in their weaponry bled into the plans for attack. Spread out, probe its defenses, and defend the flank from the Geth. The Destiny Ascension was charging another attack.

Please. Do not attack that ship!

Its payload sliced through a Geth Dropship.

Oh. [Rebecca] said dumbly. The Asari dreadnaught lumbered through atmosphere, repositioning. That one was fine, actually. Nice shot.

She shoved translated portions of Prothean research on the Reaper ships to Councilor Tevos' omni-tool. If they insisted, might as well give them all the help she could. She moved through the shelters, checking on them, flitting from one to the next via available camera feeds, or hijacking someone's omni-tool. The Anthem of Victory was still playing, loud. She watched people comfort each other as the ground shook with nearby explosions and reluctantly dragged herself away.

The thought came to her suddenly.

I'm tired.

She'd forgotten what it felt like, wanting to sleep. The exhaustion was almost a physical weight, encouraging her to just stop. To just let it end.

She flushed her processes, recognizing it for what it was. Herald.

WARNING. Synaptic core integrity at 125%.

Foreign algorithm detected.

She shut off the notifications and kept the air car cruising at its top speed, hurtling through the air towards the Council Tower.

The Citadel Defense fleet swooped into a pincher attack. The sky lit up with ordinance screaming through the air. Explosions riddled the Reaper's side, puffs of fire and smoke that soon drifted on the wind to reveal an unblemished hull.

Sovereign turned, and struck back.

A red eye opened on the black carapace of the Reaper, and from it a thin red line that seemed to cut through reality itself.

It flashed through several ships, even to her sight it looked like the air rippled and twisted and collapsed in its wake; there was a small delay, microseconds, before the hit ships simply fell apart. It was almost insidiously non-violent. Their hulls just melted right off their frames, pieces sloughing off like shedding skin, engines, eezo cores, power couplings rained, and [Rebecca] could see through the gaps pustules of flesh that used to be the crew.

She closed her eyes for a moment. She shifted through the research filling her memory banks, looking for something, anything, useful. The Reapers had few weaknesses, and of those they had, the Citadel races didn't have the firepower to take advantage of yet.

Defense turrets lost, Veto reported. Debris dripped to the ground.

How did Sovereign die in the first game?

The communication relay exploded with alarm, squadron leaders screaming for attack, clashing with those that wanted to flee. Councilor Sparatus, the once great supporter of ignoring her warning, was silent.

"My great ancestors," she heard General Onrik say quietly, his voice shaking. "What is this thing?"

The enemy, [Rebecca] replied.

Sovereign lashed out again, the line sweeping through everything in its path as if they weren't there. Fleeing ships were caught in the back, attacking frigates going dead on the radio as they tore themselves apart.

Damage to Civilian Shelter, Vigil stated. Thirty Seven Casualties.

Bloated, twisting bodies, breaking down as they screamed. She tore away from the cameras in the shelter and sent the nearest hospital notification, recalled shuttle cars to help evacuate the living. Morale was plummeting, urgent calls sent to the rest of the Fleet, Turian and Human forces still in transit, unable to do anything but plead for more time.

"Five minutes," Admiral Hackett gave a ballpark estimate. She was peeking in on the meeting, quietly adjusting cameras. The Admiral's face was long and grim, the scar on his face stood out sharply. "Give us five minutes and we'll be there."

"We've got Geth on our tail," General Vandian spoke next, shaking his head and running a talon across his right mandible. "This is far from ideal, we'll be caught in the middle. We'll have to split our defense, and hopefully it will be enough."

"What about the Migrant Fleet?" Councilor Tevos asked. [Rebecca] drifted to her omni-tool again, uploading her observations about the Geth ships. She was partial to the Asari, because whoever was commanding the Destiny Ascension had 9999 [Rebecca] brownie points for not being a contrary dumbass. The favoritism did not go unnoticed. Tevos glanced down as her omni-tool lit up with the information, and immediately pipelined it to the others, her lips thinned with distaste.

"About what you'd expect," Vandian said dryly. "As soon as we abandoned to respond to the attack on the Citadel, the quarians threw a fit."

"I get where they are coming from," Amul Shastri, the Systems Alliance Prime Minister spoke. "They've been waiting all this time for a chance against the Geth, it must have seemed like that chance was slipping away."

"Not all of them had a temper tantrum," Hackett offered. "We've got some of their battle ships coming with us."

"Their service is appreciated," Councilor Valern blinked rapidly. "And much needed."

Vandian palmed his face. "How bad is it?"

[Rebecca] chose that moment to break into the conversation. She hijacked the channel. "Bad. We have less than half the ships we started with, the majority of which destroyed within two attacks from Sovereign."

Sparatus began to grind his teeth as soon as she started talking and Vandian wasn't much better. It seemed the good general didn't take kindly to being duped.

Hackett just blinked. His eyes roamed the screen as if trying to find who was speaking. "Sovereign?"

"The flagship."

Valern nodded frantically. "Yes, the Geth have progressed beyond anything we have ever imagined –"

[Rebecca] interrupted. "It is not Geth. It is a Reaper."

"We are aware of the Reaper-class ships that –"

[Rebecca] cut him off again. "It is not Geth." His mouth opened once more and Tevos waved him down. "We will attempt a counterattack. The Destiny Ascension leads, and all available ships strike in unison at the same location."

"To break through its shielding," Sparatus muttered. At least he wasn't a complete idiot. "Will it work?"

Saren. [Rebecca] played through her memories. Shepard killed Saren for the second time, and the very next attack by the Normandy broke through. It was a clear gaming trope, the final battle where everything wrapped up and the good guys won against all odds.

This was not a game.

She calculated.

Not possible.

Unless Sovereign's shields fell.

"It must," was all she said. She thought about asking for news on the Normandy, and then thought better of it. They would wonder why she showed interest in a lone frigate out on a top secret mission. It would make them more paranoid and distrusting, She exited the channel.

Aegis, on my mark, prepare to fire the particle beam cannon on Sovereign.

Acknowledged.

All forces, [Rebecca] broadcasted to the ships. She changed Veto's priority targets and held it back. Prepare to fire. The red eye made as good a target as any and she marked it for all to see. Destiny Ascension, fire.

The Asari dreadnaught's main cannon began to charge up. [Rebecca] ran the numbers, again, and again, and again.

Please, she thought. Please.

The dreadnaught fired.

Now!

It sounded like thunder.

The rolling, rumbling, crashing noise of launched missiles, mass effect railguns and cannons released nigh simultaneously in atmosphere was deafening. All defense turrets in range spat fire, Aegis unleashed the devastating brilliant white lance with the iconic high frequency drilling noise, all merging to a single point.

Impact.

R6 beeped as the shockwave flung dust clouds over her shuttle car, cracking the windows as the car tilted in air –

Schrreaaakkk!

A large shard of blue metal slammed into the car, nearly tearing it in half. The momentum spun it around, the back dipping – crunch! – snagging on a high rise flipping the front down. [Rebecca] reacted. She grabbed R6 and lunged forward, shattering the front windshield as she broke through it. She was falling. Air whistled around her as if trying to bear her up, slipping around her form and through her hair.

Calculating trajectory.

She lashed out with her foot and it crunched through the metal plating of a building. Pieces of the shuttle car peppered her back as she kicked off, upwards, hand already reaching out. Her fingers closed on a naked support beam. She swung herself up, servos whirring. R6 was whistling with distress, shaking back and forth in her hands.

Aegis! Status report!

Superficial damage, the VI sent back immediately.

Did you get him?

Superficial damage, Aegis repeated.

The smoke and dust was clearing and [Rebecca] saw what had crashed into her car: pieces of the Destiny Ascension. The dreadnaught was listing in the air helplessly, chunks blown out of it like the angry fist of god. Sovereign's red eye flashed and it raised its limbs, red bursts like buckshot speared through buildings, people.

And it had never once slowed its implacable advance towards the tower.

She did not need to tell them the gamble had failed.

Calculating trajectory.

[Rebecca] recalled another shuttle to her as she leapt off the building, the Presidium's ring gleaming in the distance.

Admiral Steven Hackett rubbed at the grizzle on his jawline as he marched to the meeting room. His other hand clenched a burnished brass locket of hand crafted design, his thumb flicking the latch open and closed. Honest to God goddamn artificial intelligences popping out of the woodwork left and right, and without enough decency to be consistently hostile. Geth breaking two hundred years of uneasy truce, an AI on the Citadel of all the goddamn places and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was a lot more to all of this, lurking just beneath the surface.

"It is not Geth," the voice was blank and full of whispers, completely and utterly inhuman. "It is a Reaper."

The latch flipped open under his thumb. Hackett glanced down at the picture, his two girls smiling.

"What have we gotten ourselves into this time?" He murmured. The latch closed with a click and he slipped the locket back into his pocket.

The meeting room of the SSV Makalu was typical Alliance fare, circular room with viewing table at the center, chairs that varied in comfort level situated around it already filled. The teleconference screens were blank and awaiting calls. The analysts had omni-tools and tablets out, document readers were being passed around like a hot potato, everyone stopping to take a look, blanching, then handing it off to someone else.

"Commanding officer present!" Corporal Mikhail Karbowsky snapped out. The boy had a good salute and a lot of years ahead of him. Here was to hoping he lived to enjoy those years.

"At ease." Hackett pulled out his seat and settled into it, left knee twinging. He ignored it. "What have you got for me?"

Krowe and Schmidt glanced at each other, and that was never a good sign.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Krowe started. Hackett waved him on. "A complete clusterfuck."

Yep.

"This…" Krowe's omni-tool lit up as did the table, the hologram spitting diagrams of various ships into the air. Some of the ships he recognized, having tangled with them not to long ago. Geth. Others shared the same design philosophy, but were meaner looking. Slim, angled, pointed. Krowe pointed at the second group with a thick index finger, his Brit coming through strong, "I haven't the bloody clue what we're looking at here."

"The divergence is strong," Schmidt took up the torch, manipulating the hologram. She chose two ships, enlarging them and it just highlighted the differences. Like having a square peg to put in a hole, one peg was made of wood, the other of barbed wire. "If the data we received was accurate, these ships are operating on entirely different principles than the others are. Brand new technology, new shielding, new weapons, new flight capabilities."

"Is it possible that we just fought the old guard?" Hackett nodded at the rounder ships. "Everest to Kilimanjaro situation, use the cutting edge stuff where it's needed, save the rest as reserve?"

She sighed quietly. "That's the problem, sir. This 'cutting edge' of theirs is by orders of magnitude more effective. The fleet we just fought are as reliant on the Mass Relays as we are, these? They don't really need it."

Hackett bit down on his tongue lightly.

"Which," Krowe tapped the table. "Explains how they got the drop on the Citadel, considering everyone and their mum was watching that Relay."

That wasn't something any military commander wanted to hear: That the enemy could simply out maneuver you and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it. Not even the fastest Asari ships got anywhere close to bypassing the need for the Mass Relays and they sat their blue asses on the tech for thousands of years before anyone else had it.

"Doesn't sound like a natural progression," Hackett leaned back into his chair. "But that doesn't mean much when we are talking about machines, does it?"

"It should mean everything," Dalal, the CMO burst in. He ducked his head apologetically when everyone looked at him. Hackett smothered a smile, enlisted man who rose to officer, much like himself. "S-sorry, it's just –"

"Go ahead, son."

"Computers are all about logic, they aren't like us, no leaps of intuition or crazy ideas, or –"

"Artificial intelligence, Amim Dalal," Schmidt informed him with a cool smile. "They break all of the rules." She turned to Hackett. "Long story short, if the data is reliable, we're in for an uphill battle at the very least."

"Clusterfuck," Krowe interjected.

"Yes," Schmidt replied without a hint of sarcasm. "That as well."

Hackett took ownership of the display cycling through all of the known Geth ships until it came onto the massive black dreadnaught. The image was shot mid-attack, red lightning arcing out from the hull towards a nearby frigate. The thing seemed to almost exude a sense of malice, turning the harsh designs of the Geth up to 11.

"What can you tell me about their flagship?" He was greeted with silence. Hackett cleared his throat audibly, raising an eyebrow.

Krowe blew out a hard breath as Schmidt looked down at the table's reflective surface. Dalal fiddled with his document readers and all of the other techs just fidgeted.

"It's bloody huge." More finger tapping on the table until Krowe's other hand came up to strangle them into obedience. "The hull is made of Dunnoium, the amount of eezo packed into that thing is ridiculous, the weapons are one bloody big question mark –"

"Some kind of…causality gun?" Schmidt hazarded, running a hand through short blonde hair.

Hackett's face went blank. "When one of the top analysts in the Systems Alliance uses fringe paperback novel science to describe an enemy," he pointed out. "There's a problem."

Schmidt winced.

"Fringe science," Dalal gave a short, sad chuckle. "That sounds about right."

He changed the hologram to a video clip from the view point of someone on the ground. He saw a red line pass through ships, he saw them melt out of the sky.

"That affects the people too," Dalal said. He glanced down at his reader. "I don't even know where to start."

Steven Hackett leaned forward, eyes sharp and hand coming up to cover his mouth as he watched the synchronized attack fail. He hadn't seen anything they could really use, but he didn't have a head stuffed full of math and physics either. He'd joined the Navy fresh out of high school and he hadn't thought much of college until his commanding officer nearly put a boot up his ass for wasting his brain.

"Play that again."

He'd given them five minutes to go over the data sent by Councilor Tevos. Other officers might have thought getting an actionable report out of that was impossible.

"Ho-hold on a mo," Krowe straightened in his seat. "Rewind it a bit, there."

But he had faith in his people.

Schmidt's grey eyes narrowed as she went to her omni-tool. The clip started and stopped, a few frames at a second flickering back and forth around the moment of impact. The smoke billowed, revealing the black ship periodically. The clip froze on a frame, a rippling of light.

Hackett couldn't conceal the smile. "Let's try this again." He leaned forward and laced his hands together. "What have you got for me?"