Galactic Compendium link  http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=74849.0 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=74849.0)<br/>Recruitment thread link  http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=73916.0 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=73916.0)<br/>OOC thread link http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=74851.0 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=74851.0)<br/><br/>(Links to everything related to this at the top.  Let's have a good time shall we?)<br/><br/>John Zatheral remembered the meeting in the Zeta Prime Capital Station as he rolled out of the military bunk that he shared with a woman that was twice his age and yet looked no older than 30 years old.  Prolonged or he was a rookie back in basic.  Stretching as he walked to the showers down the hall from the barracks on-board the transport ship he was on, the<em> U.S.S. Dauntless</em>, cruising through FTL to neutral ground for the most important meeting that had happened since the founding of the Council long before humanity  was allowed a position in galactic politics.  The details of the mission were simple; escort the representatives from all over the galaxy from the neutral zone to the Capital, and hope no one took an interest before they arrived at their destination.  Too bad the NZ was Omega, one of the worst parts in the Terminus Systems, a series of planets and stars on the edge of the Milky Way galaxy.  Still, most of the representatives and ambassadors were coming in from that direction, and so Alliance Command had wanted John and the<em>Dauntless</em>to meet the people there....hopefully before trouble found them first.<br/><br/>Three hundred years ago saw the end of the Reaper War; the Reapers being a race of sentient machines bent on destroying all traces of civilizations everywhere they found it every 50,000 years.  They were far more advanced than the Council races had been, but if not for the actions of one woman, the galaxy as John knew it would not be around.  She led the assault on the bastards that had wiped out the civilization, the Protheans, that had come before the Alliance and countless others before them.  The losses were bad, but it saw the end of the Reapers once and for all after it was all said and done.  John was a direct descendant of that same human Spectre who saved galactic life as a whole.  Needless to say, he was pushed to be the best since he could remember.  It wasn't bad though.  Shaking the memories away his meeting a few days ago, John arrived at the armory, suited up into the combat armor, an N7 specialty given his Spectre status, before heading to the mess hall to grab a bite to eat.  Everyone saluted him, knowing who he had come from even if he didn't feel all that special at the moment.  John considered himself just another soldier trying to do his part.