Shanxi Theta System, Republic Territory
For 120 years, the Shanxi Theta system had been a jewel of the Republic's outer territories, a beacon of progress and stability in a galaxy otherwise filled with the unknown. Now, it had become the center of something unprecedented—a meeting of two civilizations, neither knowing anything about the other, their fleets locked in a silent standoff.
The tuning fork-shaped mass relay, suspended like a cosmic sentinel at the edge of the system, had become the focal point of the Republic's attention. It was a gateway to the wider galaxy, though still poorly understood. Its activation by the Khathor raiders had not only triggered a battle but left lingering questions about its origins and purpose. Now, with three sleek, angular alien vessels hovering on the far side of the relay, questions had turned to tension.
Aboard the Endurance
Admiral Steven Hackett stood at the center of the bridge of the Endurance, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the holographic display. The unknown alien ships loomed on the projection, their energy signatures carefully monitored by Republic sensors. They had arrived hours ago, yet no one knew why. Their hails were indecipherable, their intentions unclear. The Republic had only the Codex's vague references to "mass relays" and "interstellar civilizations" to work from—and none of it prepared them for this moment.
"Still no progress on translation?" Hackett asked, his voice measured but carrying a hard edge.
"Negative, Admiral," the communications officer replied. "Their language doesn't match anything in our database. Even the protocol droids are struggling to make sense of it."
Hackett frowned. The Republic's advanced translator implants, embedded into every citizen from birth, handled the thousands of languages spoken across human space with ease. But these aliens spoke something entirely foreign, beyond even the slicers' ability to decode.
"Admiral," the sensor officer interjected, "their lead vessel is transmitting visuals again. Same as before—no audio, just their leader making gestures."
Hackett stepped closer to the hologram as the transmission came through. A tall, violet-skinned humanoid stood at the center of the projection, her movements calm and deliberate. Her body language was precise, her raised hands seemingly an appeal for peace. Behind her stood an armored figure, their face marked by sharp mandibles and a rigid posture.
"What do you make of this?" Hackett asked.
"She's signaling non-aggression," the protocol droid said, its bronze frame glinting in the light. "It's a universal gesture for peace."
"She's stalling for time," Commodore Shepard said, stepping up beside Hackett. "Maybe assessing our strength. They've seen what we can do."
"Maybe," Hackett murmured. He crossed his arms, his sharp gaze focused on the alien leader. "Or maybe they really do want to talk."
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting?"
Hackett's jaw tightened. "I'm suggesting we meet them halfway. If they're serious, they'll agree to a face-to-face meeting."
On the alien side, Matriarch Lissana stood before her viewing screen, her violet eyes fixed on the Republic shuttle now approaching her ship. Behind her, the young Turian Lieutenant Varanus stood with his arms crossed, his mandibles twitching in visible discomfort.
"This is dangerous," Varanus said. "We don't know who these people are. We don't even know what they want."
Lissana turned to him, her serene expression unshaken. "Which is precisely why we must meet them. They control this system. If we leave now, we may never get another chance to understand them."
"They destroyed the Khathor raiders with ease," Varanus countered. "And look at their fleet. Those dreadnoughts—they could tear through anything we have."
Lissana smiled faintly. "Then it's a good thing they haven't fired on us, isn't it?"
Varanus hesitated but nodded reluctantly. "I've stationed guards in the hangar. They'll hold fire unless provoked."
"Good," Lissana said. "But this meeting is about trust. Let's not give them a reason to doubt ours."
It was maybe 10 minutes later with the Republic shuttle landed in the frigate's hangar, its white and red hull stark against the dim blue light of the alien vessel. Admiral Hackett descended the ramp first, flanked by four troopers in Phase II armor. Their movements were precise, their rifles holstered but ready. The protocol droid followed closely, its polished plating catching the light.
Matriarch Lissana stepped forward to meet them, her robes flowing as she moved with practiced grace. She raised her hands slowly, palms outward—a gesture Hackett recognized as one of peace.
The protocol droid stepped forward. "Admiral, her body language suggests she wishes to communicate directly. However, their language remains indecipherable."
Hackett studied Lissana carefully. She was humanoid, her features elegant and serene, but undeniably alien. Behind her, the Turian lieutenant stood rigid, his gaze fixed on the Republic troopers. The tension in the air was palpable.
Lissana placed a hand gently on her temple and gestured toward Hackett. The droid processed her movements quickly.
"Admiral," it said, "she appears to be offering a form of mental connection. A... shared exchange of thoughts."
Hackett frowned. "Mental connection? Is this a trap?"
"There is no evidence to suggest hostility," the droid replied. "Her gestures indicate consent is required."
Hackett hesitated. Every instinct told him to be cautious. But if this was the only way to establish communication, he couldn't pass up the opportunity.
"Fine," he said. "Let's get this over with."
Lissana stepped closer, her fingers reaching for Hackett's temples. The Republic troopers tensed, their hands hovering over their weapons. Hackett raised a hand to calm them, then allowed the Asari to make contact.
The world around Hackett faded as the meld began. Images, memories, and emotions flooded his mind, a torrent of unfamiliar sensations. He saw towering spires of the Citadel, fleets of alien ships, and the intricate politics of a galaxy bound together by the relays. He felt Lissana's presence—calm, deliberate, and deeply curious.
In turn, his thoughts flowed outward. Lissana saw the disciplined might of the Republic fleet, the grandeur of the Senate on Earth, and the fiery chaos of the Khathor battle. She felt the Republic's pride in its independence, its mistrust of the unknown, and its determination to protect its sovereignty.
But the experience was overwhelming. Hackett staggered, his knees buckling under the weight of the shared connection. He stumbled backward, breaking contact as he struggled to regain his balance.
Hackett's sudden movement startled the Republic troopers. Their instincts kicked in, and within seconds, their blasters were raised, barrels trained on the alien delegation. The Turian guards reacted just as quickly, their weapons snapping into firing positions. The hangar erupted into a tense standoff, both sides braced for violence.
Hackett, still disoriented, raised a hand. "Stand down!" he barked, his voice sharp despite the residual dizziness.
Lissana, equally startled, raised her own hands to calm her guards. "No! Lower your weapons!" she commanded, her voice firm.
Neither side moved at first, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade. Hackett straightened, taking a steadying breath, then repeated his order. "Lower your weapons. Now."
The Republic troopers hesitated but obeyed, their rifles slowly dropping. Across the hangar, the Turian guards followed suit, their movements cautious.
Hackett turned to Lissana, his expression hard but measured. "That was... something," he said, his words clipped.
Lissana inclined her head. "The meld was overwhelming. I apologize. I didn't anticipate the intensity."
Hackett gave a faint nod, his sharp eyes studying her. "We understand each other now. That's what matters."
Lissana's lips curved into a small smile. "Indeed. It seems we have much to discuss."
Admiral Steven Hackett stood on the hangar deck of the Citadel diplomatic frigate, his breathing steady but his mind racing. The alien matriarch—Matriarch Lissana, as she'd introduced herself during the meld—was poised before him, her elegant demeanor unshaken despite the earlier tension between their guards. Behind Hackett, his troopers kept their helmets on and their postures rigid. He knew they weren't here for diplomacy, but to protect him. In contrast, the Turians flanking Lissana held their weapons at rest but didn't appear any less prepared for trouble.
Hackett adjusted his stance and fixed his gaze on the alien diplomat. She carried herself with an air of practiced control, her body language calm and deliberate. Even so, Hackett knew better than to lower his guard. The meld had given him enough to understand her intent: curiosity, caution, and an invitation to something larger than this standoff. What it hadn't given him was a reason to trust her—or her people.
"I appreciate your effort to bridge the gap between us, Matriarch," Hackett began, his voice carefully measured. "But I need to make something clear."
Lissana tilted her head slightly, a faint flicker of interest in her glowing eyes. "Go on, Admiral."
"I'm not authorized to speak for my government," Hackett said. "I'm a military officer. My orders are to defend Republic territory, not to negotiate its future. If you're here to open a dialogue, you'll need to take that up with the Senate on Earth. They're the ones who speak for the Republic."
For a moment, there was silence between them. Hackett could feel the tension behind him as his troopers subtly adjusted their stances, clearly still wary of the alien guards across the hangar. But Lissana's expression remained neutral, almost contemplative, as she processed his words.
"That's understandable," she said finally. "I had no expectation that you would negotiate on behalf of your people. My mission here is not to secure agreements, but to extend an invitation."
Hackett raised an eyebrow. "An invitation to what?"
"To the Citadel," Lissana replied. "It is... how should I put this?" She paused, clearly choosing her words carefully. "The center of our galaxy's interstellar community. A place where governments and civilizations come together to resolve disputes, share knowledge, and ensure peace."
Hackett's brow furrowed. The meld had hinted at something like this—a massive space station, a hub of diplomacy and governance—but the idea still felt abstract. The Republic was accustomed to charting its own course, independent of outside oversight. An interstellar council, no matter how noble its intentions, would raise immediate questions about sovereignty.
"The Citadel," Hackett repeated, testing the word as if to make sense of it. "And you expect my government to come there? Just like that?"
"It is not an expectation," Lissana said smoothly, her tone unruffled. "It is an opportunity. You control this relay, but you are not the first to do so. The Citadel has long overseen the mass relay network, ensuring its safe use. Meeting with the Council would allow your people to establish a foundation of understanding with the galaxy at large."
Hackett's expression didn't change, but his mind was working quickly. The Republic had fortified Shanxi Theta's relay under the assumption that it was an artifact of immense strategic value—and a potential vulnerability. The idea that an alien coalition laid claim to the entire relay network was a revelation, one that would undoubtedly send shockwaves through the Senate.
"I'll pass your message along," Hackett said at last. "But understand this: my government won't be quick to trust anyone making claims on our territory. The Republic takes its sovereignty very seriously."
Lissana inclined her head, a gesture of understanding. "As do we all, Admiral. That is why dialogue is so important. Misunderstandings often lead to unnecessary conflict."
Hackett's gaze hardened slightly. "Speaking of misunderstandings, this relay—it's inside Republic borders. My government has controlled this system for over a century. You're not here to dispute that, are you?"
Lissana shook her head. "Not at all. The Citadel respects the sovereignty of any government in whose space a relay resides. Your system, your rules. But the relay itself is not a local curiosity—it connects to the wider galaxy. By its very nature, it brings your people into contact with others. That is why the Citadel exists: to manage such connections."
Hackett studied her carefully. She was good—calm, diplomatic, and deliberately non-threatening. But there was an undeniable undertone to her words, a subtle warning wrapped in civility. The Republic might control Shanxi Theta, but the relay connected them to something far larger than they'd anticipated.
The short journey back to the shuttle was tense, the earlier calm replaced with a quiet unease. Hackett walked with deliberate steps, his eyes ahead but his thoughts elsewhere. Behind him, his four Phase II-armored troopers maintained a protective formation, their rifles held at ease but ready to snap into action at the first sign of trouble.
As they reached the ramp of the shuttle, one of the troopers, Sergeant Vale, leaned in slightly. "Permission to speak freely, Admiral?"
"Granted," Hackett said without looking back.
"What the hell just happened back there, sir?" Vale asked, his voice carrying an edge of unease. "That... meld thing. Looked like you were about to keel over."
Hackett allowed himself a small smirk. "It's not something I'd recommend, Sergeant. But it worked. We've got a better idea of what we're dealing with now."
"And?" Vale pressed.
"And," Hackett said, turning to face him as they reached the shuttle's airlock, "we're dealing with something big. Bigger than anything we've seen before. Stay sharp. This is just the beginning."
The troopers exchanged brief glances but said nothing more as they boarded the shuttle. Hackett took his seat at the front, staring out at the hangar as the airlock closed behind them.
Back in the hangar, Lissana stood quietly, her hands clasped in front of her. Lieutenant Varanus stepped up beside her, his mandibles twitching slightly in a gesture of unease.
"Well?" he asked. "What do you make of him?"
Lissana's expression softened, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. "He's cautious. Proud. But reasonable. He won't overreach."
"Reasonable?" Varanus said with a snort. "He brought soldiers into our ship and nearly sparked a firefight."
"That was instinct, not intention," Lissana replied. "They are a military people. It's their nature to be defensive. But that will change with time."
Varanus frowned, clearly unconvinced. "And if it doesn't?"
"Then we ensure that it does," Lissana said firmly. "This Republic is a new force in the galaxy, Lieutenant. We don't know what they'll become. But we do know one thing."
"What's that?" Varanus asked.
"They've already proven themselves capable of wielding great power," Lissana said. "If we don't bring them into the fold, they'll remain unpredictable. And unpredictability is a danger we cannot afford."
By the time Hackett returned to the Endurance, the message was already being drafted. The communications officer worked quickly, encoding the details of the meeting with Lissana into a secure transmission bound for the Senate on Earth. The message included everything—Hackett's observations, the Matriarch's words, and the invitation to the Citadel.
Hackett stood over the officer's shoulder, his expression hard as he reviewed the transmission.
"Make sure this gets to the Chancellor personally," he said. "She needs to see it first."
"Yes, Admiral," the officer replied.
As the transmission was sent, Hackett turned back to the bridge, his hands clasped behind his back once more. He stared out at the vast void of Shanxi Theta, his mind racing with possibilities. The Republic had spent centuries building its own legacy, forging its own path. But now, for the first time, it was being drawn into a galaxy far larger than itself.
The only question now was whether the Republic would adapt—or stand its ground.
Geneva, Switzerland, Earth
The Senate Rotunda of the Galactic Republic
The Senate Rotunda in Geneva stood as a testament to human ambition, unity, and progress. Its massive dome, an intricate masterpiece of stained glass, depicted humanity's centuries-long journey to the stars. From the bustling colonies on distant planets to the fleets of ships carving through hyperspace, every pane told a story of exploration and resilience.
Today, however, the chamber was steeped in tension. Senators from across the Republic's territories had gathered to debate a matter that could reshape the future of their civilization. The circular room, designed to amplify voices naturally, was filled with murmurs and hushed conversations as the leadership waited for the proceedings to begin.
Standing at the center of it all was Chancellor Alexandra Blake.
At 54 years old, Blake was a vision of authority and grace. The advancements in medicine and genetic optimization that had extended human lifespans to nearly 240 years had preserved her with a beauty that seemed timeless. Her flawless, sun-kissed skin radiated a natural warmth, while her piercing emerald-green eyes sparkled with intelligence. Thick, dark lashes framed those eyes, and her sharp, symmetrical features gave her an almost regal appearance. Her auburn hair cascaded in soft, deliberate waves over her shoulders, catching the light as though it danced to her movements. She wore a tailored white suit, pristine and elegant, its simplicity only amplifying her commanding presence.
As Blake turned to face the gathered officials, even the most hardened senators and generals unconsciously straightened their postures. Her striking beauty was undeniable, but it was her sharp intellect and unwavering composure that demanded respect. She radiated the magnetic presence of someone born to lead, a figure who could inspire hope or strike fear with a single glance.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate," she began, her voice soft yet commanding, "we are here today to deliberate on a matter of unprecedented importance."
The chamber quieted almost instantly, the weight of her words settling over the gathered officials. She gestured toward the podium, where a holographic display had been prepared. "Admiral Hackett has sent us a report regarding a situation in the Shanxi Theta system. What you are about to see may very well shape the future of the Republic."
With a nod to the communications officer, the hologram flickered to life, revealing the weathered face of Admiral Steven Hackett.
"Chancellor Blake, senators of the Republic," Hackett began, his voice steady and authoritative. "I am reporting from the Shanxi Theta system, where we have made first contact with an alien delegation. Three vessels emerged from the relay—a gateway to the galaxy that has only recently revealed its purpose."
The chamber erupted into murmurs at the mention of first contact. While the Republic had long speculated about other life in the galaxy, this confirmation sent a ripple of unease and curiosity through the gathered senators.
Hackett continued, his expression hardening. "The leader of their delegation, a figure who identified herself as Matriarch Lissana, claims to represent a coalition of civilizations that govern this network of relays. She has extended an invitation for the Republic to send representatives to a place she called the Citadel. According to her, it is the center of galactic diplomacy—a hub where governments from across the stars convene to discuss trade, security, and governance."
The murmurs in the chamber grew louder, senators exchanging uneasy glances.
Hackett paused before delivering his final assessment. "I must emphasize: this invitation does not come without risk. These aliens speak of cooperation, but their capabilities remain unknown. They appear highly organized and technologically advanced. I have transmitted all data from our encounters for your review. As a military officer, my recommendation is to approach this with caution. The Republic's sovereignty must remain paramount."
The hologram flickered off, leaving the chamber in stunned silence.
Chancellor Blake turned her gaze toward the floor, her sharp green eyes scanning the room. "The floor is now open for discussion," she said, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
The first to rise was Senator Richard Vaughn of New Britannia, a graying man with a deep, commanding voice. Known for his staunch conservatism, Vaughn wasted no time making his stance clear.
"Chancellor, esteemed senators," Vaughn began, his tone heavy with skepticism. "This invitation reeks of arrogance. These... aliens claim to govern the relay network, but let us not forget—Shanxi Theta has been under Republic jurisdiction for over a century. The relay lies within our borders. It is ours. The Republic must not yield its sovereignty to some self-proclaimed galactic council."
Several senators nodded in agreement, murmurs of approval rippling through the chamber.
Vaughn pressed on. "We do not need their Citadel or their so-called diplomacy. What we need is to fortify our defenses and ensure that no foreign power threatens the Republic."
As Vaughn sat, Senator Caroline Ortega of New Santiago rose to speak. Her sharp features and calm demeanor contrasted with Vaughn's fiery rhetoric.
"With respect, Senator Vaughn, I believe you are missing the point," Ortega began. "The invitation is not a demand—it's an opportunity. We have long wondered whether we are alone in the galaxy. Now we know we are not. Ignoring this invitation would isolate us in a galaxy that is clearly far more interconnected than we imagined."
She gestured toward the hologram of the tuning fork-shaped relay. "We must acknowledge reality: the relay is not a Republic invention. It is part of a network that connects us to something far larger. Engaging with these aliens does not mean surrendering our sovereignty. It means understanding the galaxy we are now a part of."
The chamber stirred with murmurs once more, the senators divided between caution and curiosity.
Chancellor Blake stepped forward, raising her hand slightly. The room quieted as all eyes turned to her.
"Senators, your arguments are well-founded," she began, her voice calm but firm. "And I agree with both of you—our sovereignty is non-negotiable, but neither is our responsibility to understand the galaxy we inhabit."
She gestured to the display of the Citadel, projected as part of Hackett's data. "We do not yet know the intentions of these aliens, nor the full scope of their influence. But let us not act out of fear or ignorance. The Republic has always thrived through exploration, diplomacy, and strength. This moment is no different."
Blake's emerald eyes swept across the chamber, her voice rising slightly. "To ignore this invitation would be to isolate ourselves in a galaxy that is vast and unknown. That is a risk we cannot afford. But to engage recklessly would be just as dangerous."
She paused, letting her words sink in. "I propose we send a delegation to the Citadel—not as subordinates, but as equals. This delegation will consist of diplomats, scientists, and military advisors, all under strict orders to protect the Republic's interests. They will assess this galactic community, gather intelligence, and report back with their findings."
The chamber was silent for a moment before Senator Ortega rose again. "I second the Chancellor's proposal."
A few murmurs of dissent were heard, but they were drowned out by the growing wave of agreement. Even Senator Vaughn, though visibly displeased, did not openly object.
After several more minutes of discussion, the Senate voted overwhelmingly to approve the Chancellor's plan. A delegation would be formed and sent to the Citadel, its members carefully selected to represent the Republic's interests. The decision marked a turning point—not just for the Republic, but for humanity's place in the galaxy.
As the session concluded, Chancellor Blake stepped away from the podium, her expression calm but contemplative. This was only the beginning. The path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but Blake knew the Republic was ready to face them.
She turned to one of her aides as they exited the chamber. "Have the military and diplomatic corps begin preparing the delegation. And send a message to Admiral Hackett—tell him he will be briefed on his role shortly."
"Yes, Chancellor," the aide replied, hurrying to carry out her orders.
Blake's emerald eyes flicked toward the horizon, the Geneva skyline visible through the towering glass of the rotunda. Whatever awaited them in the stars, she would ensure the Republic faced it on its own terms.
Geneva, Switzerland, Earth
Galactic Republic Senate Complex
The towering Senate Rotunda of Geneva was a beacon of human achievement, its architecture blending centuries of innovation with the timeless strength of Earth's history. Inside, the chamber buzzed with activity as leaders and experts debated the Republic's next steps. Chancellor Alexandra Blake stood at the center of it all, her commanding presence ensuring order even amidst the weight of what lay ahead.
For nearly five centuries, the Republic had expanded across the stars, building an interconnected civilization that spanned tens of thousands of worlds. But the decryption of the Codex, salvaged from the ruins of the Khathor battle, had forced a paradigm shift. Humanity was not alone in the galaxy—and the Citadel's invitation, though framed as an opportunity for diplomacy, was laden with risks.
Blake stood before a council of her top advisors, the holographic display around her illuminating the key takeaways from the Codex. Behind her, images of alien species and technologies floated in rotating projections, each one representing a potential ally—or threat.
Doctor Elena Cross, the Republic's leading linguist and xenologist, stood at the edge of the table, her hands resting lightly on the console as she summarized the Codex's findings.
"The Codex is a treasure trove of information," Cross began. "It paints a picture of a galaxy far larger and more interconnected than we previously imagined. The Citadel is at the heart of this network, a space station that serves as both a diplomatic hub and a center of governance for a coalition known as the Citadel Council. The Council is composed of three primary species, but the Codex identifies many others—each with unique cultures, histories, and roles."
She gestured, and the holographic display shifted to show the Council species first.
The hologram depicted a tall, blue-skinned feminine humanoid figure with smooth, elegant features.
"The Asari are the galaxy's oldest known spacefaring civilization," Cross explained. "They are a matriarchal society, long-lived—often reaching a millennium in age—and known for their diplomacy and unity. The Codex credits them with founding the Citadel Council thousands of years ago, and they are considered its leading voice."
"Diplomats first," Admiral Hackett said from the side, arms crossed. "But that doesn't mean they don't have claws."
Cross nodded. "Indeed. The Asari prefer negotiation, but they possess advanced biotics—abilities derived from manipulating dark energy. They're not a species to underestimate."
The hologram shifted to show a tall, sharp-featured alien with mandibles and an armored physique.
"The Turians are the Council's military backbone," Cross continued. "Their society is rigidly hierarchical, with a strong emphasis on discipline and duty. They maintain the largest fleet among the Council species and are described as highly strategic and methodical in battle."
"A military culture," Chancellor Blake observed. "They'll be watching Hackett closely."
The display flickered to show a wiry, amphibian-like alien with large, expressive eyes.
"The Salarians," Cross said, "are known for their intelligence and rapid thinking. They have short lifespans—typically no more than 40 years—but they make up for it with unparalleled efficiency. Their expertise lies in espionage, science, and engineering. The Codex describes them as masters of information."
"Spies and scientists," Blake murmured. "I doubt they'll miss a single detail."
The hologram shifted again, cycling through profiles of species affiliated with or known to the Citadel.
A large, quadrupedal alien appeared on the display, its movements slow and deliberate.
"The Elcor are a highly logical and precise species," Cross explained. "They live on a high-gravity world, which influences their slow speech and movement. The Codex suggests they place great emphasis on context and subtlety in communication. While not a major military power, they're known for their honesty and dependability in trade."
The next hologram depicted a short, rotund figure encased in a pressurized suit.
"The Volus are economic specialists," Cross said. "Their homeworld's dense atmosphere requires them to wear these suits in most environments. They act as bankers and merchants, facilitating much of the galaxy's trade. They are considered invaluable to the Citadel's economy."
A floating, jellyfish-like being appeared, its body glowing faintly.
"The Hanar are deeply religious and poetic," Cross said. "Their society revolves around the worship of the Protheans, the species believed to have built the mass relay network. They communicate through bioluminescent patterns, though they also use translators to interact with other species."
The next profile depicted a humanoid figure with reptilian features.
"The Drell are closely tied to the Hanar," Cross explained. "The Codex suggests the Hanar saved the Drell from a dying homeworld, and in return, many Drell now serve as diplomats, spies, and assassins."
The hologram of a hulking, reptilian figure with a ridged head appeared next, drawing the room's attention.
"The Krogan were once a major power," Cross said, her tone more serious. "They were uplifted by the Salarians to fight the Rachni, a species described as a galactic threat. But after the Rachni War, the Krogan's population exploded, and they became a threat themselves. The Council deployed a bioweapon called the genophage, which drastically reduced Krogan birthrates. They're now scattered and diminished, but the Codex warns that they remain dangerous."
"They sound like they'd make better friends than enemies," Hackett said.
The hologram shifted to a figure with four eyes and a scowling face.
"The Batarians are described as aggressive and isolationist," Cross said. "They have a history of slavery and piracy, and their relations with the Citadel are strained at best. The Codex indicates that they prefer to operate outside Citadel law, often as raiders or mercenaries."
A small, wiry figure appeared, its face twisted in a feral snarl.
"The Vorcha are primitive scavengers," Cross said. "They have short lifespans but are highly adaptable, able to survive in some of the galaxy's harshest environments. While not a significant power, they're dangerous in large numbers."
The final holograms depicted a humanoid figure in an environmental suit and a sleek, mechanical figure with one glowing eye.
"The Quarians created the Geth as laborers and assistants," Cross said. "But the Geth gained self-awareness and rebelled, exiling the Quarians from their homeworld. The Quarians now live aboard a nomadic fleet, while the Geth control their own territory. The Codex suggests that the Geth are hostile to most organics."
Chancellor Blake turned to Admiral Hackett, her piercing gaze locking onto him. "Admiral, given the risks, you will escort the delegation aboard the Endurance. One Imperator-class Star Destroyer should suffice to project strength without appearing overly aggressive."
Hackett nodded. "Understood, Chancellor. We'll maintain a low profile but be ready to respond to any threat."
Blake's lips curved into a faint smile. "I can think of no better person for this mission. You've seen the unknown up close, Admiral. Protect our delegation, but remember—we are not here to bow to anyone. We are here as equals."
"Yes, ma'am," Hackett said, his tone resolute.
The Endurance hung in the void of space, dwarfed by the colossal mass relay that dominated the Shanxi Theta system's outskirts. The sleek, dagger-like Imperator-class Star Destroyer—a symbol of the Republic's strength and precision—was now a vessel of exploration, tasked with charting the path to the Citadel through the mysterious network of alien-built relays.
It had taken a week to prepare for the journey. Hackett had been instrumental in deciphering and translating the galaxy's common language thanks to data recovered from the Codex and the recent mind-meld with Matriarch Lissana. The Republic's universal translator implants—nanotechnological wonders embedded in all citizens—had been updated with the Asari language, which, as the Codex revealed, was widely used as a trade and diplomatic standard across the galaxy. For the first time, Republic personnel could communicate with alien species without needing droids or translation devices.
But the journey itself remained daunting. While the Codex had provided rudimentary knowledge of the relay network, it contained little to no navigational data, and hyperspace lanes had yet to be mapped in this unfamiliar region. The Endurance's advanced sensor suites would map the systems as they traveled, marking gravitational anchors, celestial phenomena, and potential hazards for future exploration and military use.
Admiral Steven Hackett stood at the center of the bridge, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out at the massive tuning fork-like structure of the mass relay. Its arms glowed faintly, energy pulsating through its alien surface like the beating of some enormous heart. The sheer scale of the relay, even compared to the Endurance, was humbling.
"All systems ready, Admiral," reported Lieutenant Andrea Tolbert, the ship's senior navigation officer. She sat at her console, surrounded by glowing holo-displays streaming telemetry data. "Course through the relay to the designated junction system is locked. Relay activation protocols are online."
Hackett's weathered face betrayed no emotion, though the weight of the moment was not lost on him. "Comms, transmit the activation signal."
"Yes, sir," replied the communications officer. A moment later, the relay began to glow brighter, arcs of blue energy crackling along its arms. The central node swirled with light as the relay field expanded, ready to hurl the Endurance across unimaginable distances.
Hackett turned to the crew. "All stations, secure for transit. Helm, bring us into position."
The Endurance moved forward, its massive engines humming as it aligned with the relay's energy field. The ship glided smoothly into the shimmering blue light, which wrapped around it like a cocoon.
"Brace for transition," Hackett ordered.
The relay activated, and in an instant, the Endurance was hurled forward. The stars around them twisted and blurred into streaks of light, giving way to the surreal, otherworldly visuals of the relay corridor. The ship moved with impossible speed, carried by forces far beyond the understanding of Republic scientists.
The ship exited the relay with a faint shudder, the streaking light giving way to the serene blackness of space. Before them stretched a new star system, its centerpiece a yellow dwarf star surrounded by rocky planets and an enormous asteroid belt. Another relay floated in the distance, orbiting a gas giant shrouded in brilliant blue and white clouds.
"Transition complete," reported Tolbert. "All systems nominal."
"Status on the system?" Hackett asked.
"Preliminary scans indicate six planets, two within the habitable zone," replied the sensor officer, his hands flying over his console. "The asteroid belt shows signs of mining activity—centuries old, judging by the lack of recent debris. No active signals or vessels detected."
Hackett nodded. "Mark this system as Junction Alpha. Helm, adjust course for the next relay. I want continuous scans as we approach."
As the Endurance moved toward the second relay, the ship's sensor suites worked tirelessly, mapping gravitational markers, planetary orbits, and hyperspace anchors. Every detail was logged for future use, ensuring the Republic would not have to rely solely on the relay network for navigation.
The journey continued through the relay network, each jump taking the Endurance further from Republic space and deeper into the unknown. Each system they passed was a marvel of alien beauty—some teeming with vibrant nebulae, others eerily quiet and barren.
In one system, the ship emerged near a dying red dwarf star, its faint light casting long shadows across a massive field of planetary debris. "Scans show signs of an ancient battle," the sensor officer reported. "Dozens of wrecks, some larger than the Endurance. All heavily deteriorated."
"Log the data for analysis," Hackett ordered. "But stay alert. I don't want any surprises."
In another system, the relay deposited them near a binary star system, its twin suns creating a dazzling interplay of light and shadow. A massive asteroid field surrounded the central stars, glittering with frozen gases and metallic ores.
"Admiral," Tolbert said, her voice tinged with awe, "the data we're gathering... this network is unlike anything we've seen before. The precision, the stability—it's far beyond our current understanding."
"Keep gathering," Hackett replied. "Every piece of data gives us an advantage."
After several more jumps, the Endurance approached the final relay leading to the Citadel system. The tension on the bridge was palpable. Hackett stood silently, his sharp eyes fixed on the glowing relay ahead. The crew moved with precision, their movements quick but controlled.
"Final relay in sight," reported Tolbert. "Coordinates to the Citadel system are locked."
"Shields up," Hackett ordered. "We don't know what we'll find on the other side. Communications, prepare to broadcast the Republic identification codes we received from the Codex. Let's try not to start a war."
The crew worked quickly, their hands flying over consoles as they prepared the ship for the final jump. The relay began to glow brighter, its energy field crackling with raw power.
"All stations, secure for final transition," Hackett said. He paused, then added, "And remember—whatever's waiting for us, we represent the Republic. Stay sharp."
The Endurance entered the relay, its massive frame disappearing into the swirling blue energy.
The ship emerged into the Citadel system with a faint shudder. What lay before them left the bridge crew momentarily speechless.
The Citadel hung in space like a colossal jewel, its five arms stretching outward from a massive central ring. Around it orbited hundreds of ships, their designs alien and varied. The scale of the station—and the fleet surrounding it—was staggering. It was unlike anything the Republic had ever encountered, a testament to the sheer scope of the galaxy beyond their borders.
"Admiral," the communications officer said, breaking the silence, "we're receiving multiple signals from the station. They're hailing us... in Asari."
Hackett nodded. "Good. Let's not waste the translator updates. Open a channel."
The officer complied, and moments later, the voice of a calm, measured Asari filled the bridge. "Republic vessel, this is Citadel Control. You are entering Council space. Please identify yourself and state your purpose."
"This is Admiral Steven Hackett of the Galactic Republic," Hackett replied, his tone firm but diplomatic. "We've been invited by the Citadel Council to establish contact."
There was a brief pause before the Asari responded. "Acknowledged, Endurance. You are cleared to approach. Follow the designated flight path to Docking Bay Seventeen."
The comm line closed, and Hackett turned to the helm. "You heard them. Take us in, nice and steady."
As the Endurance began its approach, Hackett couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment. For centuries, the Republic had charted its own course, isolated and independent. Now, it was stepping onto a stage filled with civilizations far older and more experienced.
But if the galaxy thought humanity would simply fall in line, it was in for a surprise.