Mass Effect is owned by Them. You know who Them are. Umbrella… wait, sorry, that's another story of mine…
Author's Note: Welcome back to the Peacemaker Series! New Story! New Players! And a whole host of crazy to feast your eyes upon.
Previously on the Peacemaker Series, 'Where The Law Stands Tall'…
Marshal Sam Collins, the Marshal of Therum, began as a Deputy investigating possible smugglers. Her investigation using Mass Relay Data had her finding the destination of said smugglers; a planet called Revan in the Thermopile System. Unfortunately, the facility was a lot more than what it seemed; a baby farm to grow slaves from several races with the use of fertility drugs to maximize the numbers. Thankfully, Sam had help in the form of three Council Agents; Nihlus Kryik, Tela Vasir, and Jondum Bau. Together, they stopped the House of Horrors and arrested the person responsible, Doctor Saelon. Sam was shot in the process, but made a recovery onboard the SSV Marco Polo.
Following that, Sam went to Therum to arrest her boss, Marshal Bart Weathers, who was involved and committing treason, and took over his job with the help of a Naval Security Team. Conducting an investigation to help arrest the guilty and protect mankind from unwarranted implications, Sam Collins filled in the shoes as the Marshal of Therum, getting cooperation from the Eldfell-Ashland Energy Corporation with the aid of a Naval Security Team and Battle Group Moctezuma. She also arrested Nico Dekker, the crime boss and President of the Planetary Brotherhood of Teamsters. Along with him, she arrested known terrorist Garm Jor'raddah, a Batarian extremist and a part of the Alliance's Top Twenty-Five Most Wanted.
A Batarian invasion fleet comes to Therum with the intent of rescuing Garm Jor'raddah, who is the right-hand man of the Ministry of Peace in the Batarian Hegemony, as well as conducting the most massive slave raid to date. With the help of Battle Group Moctezuma, Naval Security Teams, Marines, and seven SPECTREs, they were able to throw off the Batarians as Citadel Fleets came to the colony's aid. The story ends with the knowledge that Sam is moving up in the galaxy, getting the great big gig in the Citadel; Marshal of the Citadel.
And now we move to the sequel. You lucky bastard, you.
ARC 0: Preludes, I
Dock 54B, Arcturus Station, Arcturus Stream, June 3, 2175
The Military Transport Cargo-130A landed at the appropriate docking bay as gimbals moved to 'catch' the sixty-person transportation vessel meant to move military members from various points in Systems Alliance Space, one of the easiest methods for a human being to move from one end of Earth Space to another without the messiness of civilian transportation, security checks, a multi-pass, or even paying. The method of transportation, having been called Space A for centuries now, was the Systems Alliance Navy's answer for moving whomever they needed to a variety of locations without having to wait days or weeks for available seating upon civilian transports, not to mention that every MTC-130 came armed with GARDIAN lasers and swivel MA guns for defense, unlike its civilian counterparts. It wasn't unusual that members of the government, both Systems Alliance and EarthGov, used Space A for traveling purposes to avoid having their itineraries known and distributed by the many information brokers and intelligence services that the galaxy held. While it wasn't widely known, the MTC-130 was responsible for some eight percent of human transportation needs in and around Alliance Space.
Coming off of this particular one was Alliance Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins.
Sam stepped off the ramp of the military transportation vessel, her booted feet hitting station deck as she officially landed on Arcturus Station, affectionally known as the Arc throughout Alliance Space. She was one of many debarking the transport, most in uniform, be it Systems Alliance Naval Sailors or Marines, their blue Battle Duty Uniforms pegging their branches by the shades they wore; Navy Blue for Navy, and Royal Blue for Marines. Sam herself wore her customary uniform; a black sports blazer over a buttoned shirt, black slacks held by a Sam Browne belt, topped with her Western Gentleman cowboy hat and her black cowboy boots. She had gotten more than a fair share of looks and stares from the various Sailors and Marines, most of them Seamen and Privates in rank, but one or two of the older, higher-ranking kind seemed to know that whomever she was, she was important enough to merit a berth from the Helios System where Earth resided to the Arc. Now that she had arrived at the Arc, Sam realized that her life was once again going to be completely different.
She had a very important meeting to attend to.
Shouldering her duffel bag, the Marshal walked down the gangplank that led from landing pad to the Docks itself, resembling something similar to a civilian spaceport, though with less confusion thanks to the military structure of rank and making really obvious signs so that Seamen and Privates had no excuses on why they got lost. Moving along with the variety of members with the SA Military, Sam was conscious that she was being eyeballed by a Marine Sergeant that was walking alongside her, his eyes touching where her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver rested in its mag-lock Kylex holster on her left hip before looking at her. His eyes had hit upon the badge she wore on her jacket, the five-pointed star set inside a border with the word 'MARSHAL' engraved upon it, to better identify what she was. She looked back at the Sergeant staring at her, and he gave her a tentative nod of respect. He might not know whom she was, but evidently she was whatever he expected an Alliance Federal Marshal to be.
A Federal Marshal… she was playing with the big boys now.
There were many different rates in the Alliance Marshal Services Office, but really only four ranks; Deputy, Frontier Marshal, Federal Marshal, and then Staff Marshal. Deputies were the bread-and-butter of the Marshal Service, the men and women who put boot-to-ass against those who broke the law, upholding the law and justice throughout Earth Alliance Space. The rank-and-file could be found at any Alliance post, outpost, settlement, colony, town, or city, and were the largest branch of law enforcement in both the Systems Alliance and EarthGov.
Frontier Marshals were the next step up, a position of authority and responsibility that ran an office covering a swath of jurisdiction. In some cases, it would be a town or a territory, though in other places one could be responsible for an entire planet or even more. As the Marshal of Therum, Sam had technically been responsible for the entirety of the Artemis Tau Cluster, though Therum was where the colonies were located. Since the entire population had been less than a quarter of a million, the responsibility had been hers, as it had been for her predecessor, Marshal Bartholomew Weathers, before she had slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists for his actions involving the House of Horrors, and later high treason. Bart was now vacationing in Venus for his crimes, given a sentence that sent him to the penal colony upon that hellhole in which he would never leave.
After that there was the Federal Marshals. While Deputies and Frontier Marshals were more visible and most recognized, the Federal Marshals were the ones that people were wary of. Responsible for the law of the entirety of Earth Alliance Space, as well as that of any domicile a human lives in, Federal Marshals had a jurisdiction that enveloped the entire galaxy… technically. They were the traveling lawmen that hunted down those who escaped justice, dogged investigators that could cover crimes that spandex planets and systems, and bring back anyone who was upon any wanted list for any species in the name of civil protection. Only two organizations enjoyed such leeway; the Asari Order of Divine Justice and Retribution, its members known as Justicars, and the Office of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, Agents of the Galactic Council known as SPECTREs. If Sam wished to do so, she could walk into the worst cesspool in the galaxy and start picking off bounties and the wanted… if she didn't mind kicking a few hornets' nests in the process.
The last rank were the Staff Marshals, which were the ones who mostly worked in Headquarters on Earth, though there were a couple stationed on the Arc as well. For the most part, they were the ones that kept track of it all, organizational in nature and reviewing laws, cases, and conduct. Those were the ones that handled the cases sent to Earth, like what Sam had sent off pertaining to Bart Weathers and almost the entirety of her Office when she purged it back in Therum. And when she arrested Nico Dekker and sent him back to Earth to stand trial. And finally Garm Jor'raddah, Batarian terrorist, extremist, and evidently Senior Deputy of the Ministry of Peace for the Batarian Hegemony. No doubt each of those sent waves through the home office, and she had been solely responsible for all of them. When the Acting Director of Marshal Services first met her three days prior, he had shaken her hand not out of politeness, but out of respect. Of course, she was the reason he had his job considering his boss had been forced to resign over the House of Horrors and negligence over letting Bart Weathers commit high treason for four years while on his watch.
Sam filtered through the arrival dock with only her carry-on duffel bag, the checked-in bag that she had to be picked up by a liaison as she threaded through the many members of the Alliance military heading towards their various commands and destinations as she herself headed towards the ArcTram, the electromagnetic rail that encircled the Stanford Torus making it easier for members and visitors of the Arc to reach their destination faster. The Marshal boarded the next Tram, seeing that her destination was only a couple of stops away, marked 'SAG Wing.' Sam's eyes darted through the Tram, noting the heavy military presence, but also the sight of Ministry employees, family members, and even visitors. The Arc was, after all, the first and last line of defense for Mankind.
And she was going to walk into the heart of it.
Collins disembarked the ArcTram when it arrived at the appropriate station, the marked SAG Wing Platform defended by no less than twenty Systems Alliance Marines at clearly marked checkpoints, inspecting identifications and itineraries. Beyond the checkpoint was the heart of the Alliance; the Systems Alliance Government itself, where the President, her Ministry members, the Parliament, and the Justices ruled mankind in the stars. Sam showed her MultiPass to a Marine Corporal, flanked by two Private First Classes armed with Hadne-Keder M500 Storm Shotguns for anyone who decided compliance wasn't necessary. Her pass got looked at, as well as the badge clipped onto her jacket and the revolver on her hip. Thankfully, she was allowed to enter military and government installations armed as a law enforcement agent, so sliding the card through the scanner confirmed her credentials and allowed her to pass through the old-school metal cylindrical turnstile that could and would trap even a Krogan with the press of a button. Sam had no such issues as she pushed her way through and began walking right into the halls of power that laid in the heart of the Systems Alliance.
She had a meeting in one of the rooms, after all.
- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -
"This is Senator Michael Dorn with the Parliamentary Sub-Committee of Extrasolar Affairs, calling to meeting number zero-six-zero-three-seven-five." An older human male of about sixty years wearing the normal garb of a politician sat at a raised bench, a silver-mane'ed man flanked by six others at the long-benched table of the panel. Marshal Sam Collins sat at a table in front of the panel, a microphone in front of her as well as a common AppleCorps iPad in front of her for any information she wished to jot down or files she wished to look up in front of her if needed. Beside her were two people to either side of her, equally in chairs and armed with the same tools. One was Assistant Director Walter Skinner, the Assistant Director of the Office of Naval Intelligence; the Alliance's go-to intelligence agency, who held a military rank of Rear Admiral for his position despite being a civilian. He was dressed smartly in a suit of somber colors and the classic black tie. The other was Staff Marshal Emilio Torres, Director of Extra-Alliance Jurisdictions for the Systems Alliance Marshal Services, the man responsible for Federal Marshals and those who committed crimes against humanity (human or other) outside of Earth Alliance Space. He, like her, was dressed in the Marshal's uniform; black blazer over a white dress shirt, black bola with a clasp, blue jeans and boots, and a black Stetson that was resting on the table instead of on his head. Like most men in the Marshal Services, Marshal Torres had grown a mustache to reinforce the Western look, a Fu Manchu that was thick enough to climb up. Both were here for her. "Presiding before us are Federal Marshal Samantha Collins, Staff Marshal Emilio Torres, and Rear Admiral (lower half) Walter Skinner. Upon the docket will be the decision to grant the Citadel Council's request for Marshal Collins to perform duties for the Citadel Council outside of Alliance Jurisdiction in a capacity that may extend beyond the Alliance Charter and duties of the Systems Alliance Marshal Services. Senator Burchard?"
"Thank you, Senator Dorn." Senator Cynthia Burchard replied, an older woman whose handsome face announced her mid-life age and wisdom. Senator Burchard was the elected representative of Elysium, and had been since the colony's founding. Few in Parliament had her clout, and her voice was certainly a make-or-break in any deal. "Good day, Officers. As this is a Sub-Committee inquest, I will let you know now that this is neither a trial nor are any of you being prosecuted. This is to determine whether or not going forth with installing a Marshal on the Citadel is a feasible idea, as well as the no-doubt public relations hit we'll undoubtedly take no matter how good or bad a job anyone does." Marshal Sam Collins sat in her chair with her hands resting on the table in front of her, her fingers interlocked. She had never been to an informal inquest, though she had studied up on it beforehand to better understand what she was getting into and how to respond to questions. It was really not much more than a panel of well-educated, well-connected people who were going to gauge her by her answers to their questions. "Marshal Collins, first of all I would like to thank you for your service upon Therum and all that you did there. I would be hard-pressed to think of a person who has accomplished so much in as little time as you have."
"Thank you, Senator Burchard." Sam nodded her head respectfully, understanding that simple answers were often better ones.
"To begin," The older woman continued, "the Citadel has extended to us an offer for your services, Marshal, citing that you showed a skill that they would find accommodating. The issue isn't with the offer, for you wouldn't be the first person to be asked by a Citadel Agency to work for them. The issue is that we will effectively lose you in the process, and given recent history, that isn't something we much look forward to." Sam didn't make a noise, but understood where the Senator was alluding to. They didn't want to give up what was essentially the hero of the day to the aliens, no matter how beneficial. It wasn't racist, per se, but it might be that the Alliance wasn't even aware why the Citadel wanted her. Or even whom in the Citadel. "Ambassador Doyle has worked rather tirelessly on a concession in which we both get to have our cake and eat it, too; the establishment of a Marshal's Office on the Citadel itself. Obviously, this is big."
"I understand, and I agree." It wasn't hard to see the implications. Sam knew that all the other agencies on the Citadel were, in effect, Citadel agencies; they ran off the authority of those in governance on that station. There wasn't a Hierarchy law enforcement agency on the Citadel, or a Salarian intelligence service, or an Asari training house. But there was about to be a human Marshal's Office. The implications were staggering, actually. Anyone with two eyeballs and acumen in politics could see that the Citadel wanted Marshal Collins very badly. Bending over backwards, politically speaking. Thankfully, such things were left in the hands of the Human Ambassador, Anita Doyle, who had, as Sam understood it, dealt with the situation with finesse and a bit of political bribery. The situation on the Citadel involving the humans living there was in a constant state of turmoil, and the idea of a Marshal's Office to help relieve the tensions there was an olive branch for both sides. It was a big deal, but it had gotten to the point that unusual and extraordinary circumstances were going to be needed. Plus, it had side benefits for Collins herself. Mostly as a cover and a base of operations.
No one else in the room knew that, though.
"So my question is… why you?"
"Why me, the Citadel? Or why me, the Marshal's Office?"
"Both." The older woman leaned forward, her face going predatory.
"Then I'll answer the first one, Senator." Marshal Collins replied, thankful once again that being Autistic had certain advantages. "A great deal of it revolves around the Revan House of Horrors and the Trail of Tears Consortium that I discovered and provided information for. I was able to locate it through discrepancies in logs, customs paperwork, tare weights, fuel consumptions, and the fact that what they were declaring wasn't really found in the system I surmised that they were going to." All of this information was factually correct, if not the exact truth. "An agency on the Citadel noted the data usage I was looking for pertaining to such things and got curious, and hacked into my terminal on Therum, noting that I was doing it in a method different than they." Again, that was factually correct. "They sent someone to investigate and interview me to find out how I was reaching my conclusions, but by that time, I has already left for Revan on what I believed at the time to be a smugglers' operation." Nothing she said was either alarming or surprising the panel of Senators.
"So when you assaulted that pisshole," Senator Dorn opened up, "you had outside assistance."
"Correct, Senator." Collins nodded. "The undercover investigator in question tracked me to Revan and notified me of their presence. We linked up and began our investigation of the House of Horrors, and as an operative of a Citadel Agency, they had the same access and information as I did. Sharing was imperative, especially when we discovered what was going on. At the time, my biggest fear was that mankind might suffer a knee-jerk backlash because of its location in Earth Alliance Space. I feared war."
"A realistic fear, and one in which we at ONI agree that Marshal Collins made the right choice." Assistant Director Walter Skinner replied, having surmised that this was his cue to speak up as a part of the Alliance intelligence community. "Any kind of deception or burial of intelligence on our behalf might have very well created that kind of scenario. Since the undercover Citadel operative was available throughout the operation and saw the same things that Marshal Collins did, withholding would have looked like guilt or involvement. We approved of her actions retroactively when we began combing through the House of Horrors ourselves in the aftermath, and have a signed referendum available from the Parliamentary Sub-Committee of Intelligence giving her the authority to do so pertaining to the House of Horrors and anything related to the investigation, to include her own Office." The Office of Naval Intelligence had saved her from a potential faux pas of giving out information that could have been quite harmful if anything had been discovered pertaining to the Alliance. Collins was grateful that Director Skinner was the kind of man she saw as a worthy one; he did his job, took it seriously, and didn't let petty obstacles get in his way. "Marshal Collins sent the same intelligence to us as she did to the necessary authorities of the Citadel, and considering the massive tactical strikes they were able to enact to remove the Consortium from existence, we at ONI agree that it was the best available option; we would have never been able to strike that hard, that fast, or with that level of cooperation from others in the same manner." Again, Skinner just gave her another boon. "All in all, the whole ordeal with the Trail of Tears Consortium ended with us in a strong positive light; the worst criminal we had was Collins' predecessor aiding the Revan House of Horrors and selling patrol schedules to their transporters. The Turians, Salarians, and Asari had a lot worse representatives involved, so as far as the aliens are concerned, Marshal Weathers wasn't even a bump on the road, and we got the credit for discovering and spearheading that entire operation. We came out looking good."
"As for your second question, Senator," Collins continued when Assistant Director Skinner had nodded to her, indicating that he was done, "I will admit that my best qualification would actually be my age." That earned her a few amused glances from the panel. "I was born just before the First Contact War, and I've known about aliens as long as I've been aware. Being from an orphanage, I didn't have parents to teach me to instantly hate anything non-human. Most in my position are generally almost two decades older than I am, and have that ingrained sense of unease and distrust about them, fearing the unknown. I lack that issue, though I am not naive and immediately trust another, but having to deal with a member of another species would be easier for me than it would be someone else."
"And what of your lack of experience, Therum notwithstanding?" Senator Dorn asked, the question a good one. "As you mentioned, your contemporaries have almost two decades more experience than you yourself do. That's twenty years to learn how to be a law enforcement agent, to be a detective, to understand the intricacies of forensics, and how to run and manage a section of other fellow Officers. Now," the Senator motioned that he was going to continue to talk, "I am not downplaying the events on Therum nor your actions on Revan or your capture of Dekker and the Jackal. Those were fine moments and there isn't a person in the Alliance Government who isn't thankful for what you did. But you did make some rookie mistakes;
"First," Dorn continued, "I know that Weathers was playing everyone, but going to a planet by yourself to what you believed was a smugglers' operation was foolhardy. Two, while technically slavery is also smuggling, you were woefully unprepared in equipment to engage in any kind of operation, much less what you discovered in that Colonial Starter Kit. Three, your arrest of Nico Dekker was almost tossed out of court due to the fact that you had no arrest warrant of any kind, not to mention you shot up a nightclub, no matter how well-deserved. If you hadn't had a vid of him trying to bribe you and describing his bribery of both of your predecessors, not to mention the attack on Deputy Jessica Leveque? He would be walking a free man. Four, Garm Jor'raddah was a lucky capture, and you had no idea who he was, how he arrived on Therum, or what his business was about in the first place." Sam tried not to wince at any of those, and she admitted that the Senator had very good points. "Also, you had several small series of police-oriented actions that make you look like you are reckless; stunt-flying a speed bike through a favela at maximum speed to stop a riot, and then using the Contragravity thrusters as a deterrent by pulling donuts in a small locale? Cutting off power to No'burg itself when there was every indication of a full-scale riot after Dekker's' capture? Parading Dekker and the Jackal like killed game through the middle of town for their escort, whether it was them or not? Not to mention that you were practically absent during the Battle of Therum itself when your place should have been at your Marshal's Office, not in some slumhole defense checkpoint manned by SA Marines. By all accounts," Dorn continued, "you had Master Chief Valentino and Senior Chief Mason running the Office while you spearheaded the investigations on the Revan House of Horrors and Marshal Weathers, which was a smart choice, but they are both military police officers, and not civil police officers. There is a very sharp distinction between the two. You were at least wise enough to put a Marine Captain in charge of the Battle itself when you went in absenia, as that point in time it was a military action, but by your own report, it was Captain Meer who brought up the point, not you coming to the conclusion yourself."
It was like a bell tolling.
"Senator," Marshal Torres spoke up, "while I'll admit that some things could have been handled differently, we in the Marshal Services are of a different opinion." The Latino man started ticking off his points. "First, Marshal Collins found somethin' wrong in the Revan case, and she went for it, plain and simple. We ain't always right on our assumptions of guilt when we go after suspects; that's what further investigations and interrogations are for. But Collins' instincts were right on the money. Two, she conducted several operations with no injuries to those under her authority, and no counts of brutality against her, which is better than most considerin' the level and hostilities she was dealing with. Three, she purged her entire Office with evidence of corruption, which was our fault, and managed to preserve evidence that linked a good many parts of the Trail of Tears Consortium. Four, she led the largest investigation that we had in the past decade, and her paperwork was so immaculate I heard Weather's lawyers sweatin' from it, it was that airtight. Five? She caught the guy we've been drooling over for years on gettin', and Dekker's lawyers were singing 'deal' for full cooperation and to finger all the parties involved off-planet. Six? Therum is literally our worst post, and it had two corrupt Marshals headin' it, and yet Collins took over and got back to its proper standard. Seven? She literally nabbed the worst pendejo we've ever caught, and she kept him safe as a bug while the Batarians practically launched a full-scale rescue mission that took more than a Fleet to ensure success. Eight, she was up in the front with her Deputies through it all, walkin' in the same dust and dirt as they were, first through the door and makin' the arrests herself. She had SA military eatin' out of her hand, Eldfell-Ashland pukes eatin' out of her hand, and she put meanin' back into the words 'law and order' in No'burg. Lastly, she's our first wartime Marshal since Shanxi, and Marshal Jorgensen was found holdin' the fort in his Office while his Deputies died fightin' Turian invaders. You want qualifications? You want to know why her?" The Latino man sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "She's got the rep, she's got the drive, and she don't take shit from no one, human or otherwise. Like what I expect from my Federales; do your damn job better than everyone else. I literally cannot think of anyone I would want to replace her durin' her time on Therum. Can't think of anyone else for El Cit, either."
Sam, needless to say, was rather speechless. She tried not to show it.
"As for alternates?" Torres snorted, chewing the inside of his cheek. "We got Marshals that are thugs, and we got Marshals that are smart, but we don't got a lot that are both at the same time. The three that we got that are in Collins' league aren't goin' to happen. One's pushing sixty, had a heart attack last year, and is on his second liver, so that's a no. Second one absolutely hates Turians, so that's a big no. The last one's been at his post for some twenty years, where he met and married his wife and had kids. He's the runner up, and he's a far distant second place that has no inclination in movin' with his oldest girl 'bout to enter her Senior Year in Secondary Gymnasium. She's among the best we got, and Turians actually like the Marshal Services; they see us as similar to their Vigilus Comatatus, their Principal of Civil Obedience." The Staff Marshal shrugged. "We tend to get along better than just about any other branch of the SA Government, and those boys were born-and-bred to obey the law. Plus… you throw a male out there, and a Turian will likely do some Alpha posturing bullshit. Chuck a female out there though, those big boys are likely to listen, 'cuz they was raised to mind their mommas and see females as defenders of the nest. They'll give Collins the initial gram of respect a male Marshal might not get at the onset. It'd be stupid not to take advantage of that, 'specially with the way things are goin' on El Cit."
"Those are… interesting points." Senator Dorn nodded slowly, obviously thinking them over. "As a Staff Marshal, what would you expect out of one of your own running that kind of Office?"
"Honestly? It'd have to be someone who'd stick by their guns, so to speak." Torres replied. "We're combin' through our Deputies and lookin' for anyone that might want to make a move to a different post, while keepin' an eye on their involvements dealin' with non-humans. It's a short list, I'm afraid; not many of our boys get to deal with aliens on human colonial territories. We're also lookin' at cops on Earth, 'specially in the big cities, like Neo York and Neo Angeles, or even Tokyo-Kyoto. Somewhere with big, heavy populations and a fair 'mount of immigrants. In that? We're short-handed no matter what we do. Collins brings up a fair point though; newer generation has better relations with aliens than the older one like myself. That works in our favor, honestly. We want to be team players? We need someone who can actually manage to do that. Collins already has the experience workin' with some Citadel agents, and got them involved with the Battle of Therum. That's already in her favor, and another Marshal might have disdain that kind of thinkin'. That would have ended with somethin' worse than Mindoir if we had someone else whose first thought at foreign intervention was 'fuck them'. Her decision saved lives, a lot of lives." Torres shrugged again. "As I understand it, with her savin' Turian females and hatchlin's on Revan, the Turians are gonna like her and respect her for that. Again, be stupid not to take advantage of that."
"You mention being a team player when it came to the Citadel and its agencies." Senator Burchard picked up with another line of questions that Collins knew was going to be just as important as Senator Dorn's. "What do you believe that entails, Marshal Collins?"
"Honestly? We need to step up." Sam replied, having already worked this response out. She knew a question like this would come up. "We can't run or hide, and we can't stick our heads in the sand. If we want to look like one of the big boys, we have to prove ourselves. We're behind on the power curve, and we walked in the low man on the totem pole. The only way we're going to pull ourselves up is by showing the various species and governments that we are to be taken seriously, that we can defend our own, and that we can cooperate with others when necessary. The Volus created the current galactic market and the banking system that everyone uses, and has a very strong economy, yet they are considered a 'minor' race, as well as being a client state of the Turian Hierarchy. The Elcor haven't impressed anybody, and are practically a client state of the Asari Republic. The Hanar are just weird, and nobody takes them seriously save when it comes to anything Prothean-related. The Batarians are becoming increasingly aggressive and isolationist, and they're quickly losing their voice in the Chambers of Governance due to their actions. And we know what happened to the Quarians, the Krogan, and the Rachni." Everyone was on track with her line of thought so far. "We need to build relationships, foster some form of good will with the others. Our own history is rife with those who tried to stand separate from what was considered the common good, and they usually ended up decimated either through military action or political muscle. I don't want that happen to mankind, so we need to find chances and opportunities to show the others that while we may be new to the galactic scene, that we aren't to be underestimated. That will take time, that will take events, and that will take politics. But I believe we can do it, but it won't be through antagonizing the other races and causing undue amounts of strife, discord, and scandals."
"So what would be your plan to enact this?" Senator Dorn asked, intrigued.
"The Marshal's Office is a start," Collins answered, "as we're going to have the only non-Citadel law enforcement agency on the station. We patrol the 'Human Wards'," God she hated that term and concept, "and show them law and order; a mark of civility. As there are other law enforcement and intelligence communities available on the Citadel, we gain cooperation, but make it a two-way street. When there are incidences, we arrive, and when they need favors, we provide. The Asari and the Salarians became Full Charter Members of the Council out of creation and seniority, and only accepted the Krogan and the Turians at the aftermath of an all-out war. The only ones who had ever gotten close to being accepted as a Full Charter Member of the Council… were the Batarians." That had a few people on the panel shifting in their seats. "The Hegemony have been in the galactic scene for nearly a millennia, patrolling Citadel Space alongside the Turians as a secondary peacekeeping force. They were first among equals among the 'minor' races," God, she hated that term and concept, too, "and were listened to and heeded by the Charter Members more so than the others. It shows with the amount of colonies that they have, double of that of any of the minor races, as well as the approvals of other favors and demands that they've had over the centuries. They curried favor from the Council by doing what I suggested, and they were repaid for their line-of-thought. Now? They are quickly losing that favor since our arrival, their actions having soured their relationship with the Charter Members while we are slowly risking up in the ranks of the 'minor' races. We're getting colonies and resource planets from the Citadel Geological Survey Society, the process going faster than it has been for the Volus and the Elcor. Batarian borders and patrols are shrinking while ours are expanding. The writing's on the wall; we're currying a better spot at the dinner table, and if we keep it up, we'll have the Batarians' chair from right underneath them." Assistant Director Skinner made a pleased sound at that one. "My plan? Do what we've been doing; stay strong, drive forward, and minimize the flak."
"You certainly have an eye for politics." Senator Burchard commented, her tone amused. "Something your position calls for, and doubly so for the Citadel, I'd imagine. But it still begs to question why you are more qualified than anyone else. Say, a Special Agent of the Global Bureau of Investigations, or perhaps a Police Commissioner from one of our more established colonies or Sol System."
"To that," Skinner replied, "anyone else is going to look a puppet. Marshal Collins' was a solo act on Therum, and certainly showed the Citadel that she had no real ties to any political movements or strings from any of the other branches from EarthGov, which is a plus. Anyone else, and they're going to see a figurehead; not what we want. Also, they asked for her specifically due to her actions at Revan, which impressed them and won us a lot of good will saving babies from a multitude of species, as well as cutting the rot off with those involved. None of those others you mentioned have ever done anything close to that caliber. You include the capture of the Jackal and the Battle of Therum? They'll see another choice as a sub-par Silver Medalist who will have it three times worse than Collins' will just because they will push and push until they break. Collins has a good reputation and credibility under her belt, and they'll respect it. We're going to need it, and she's going to need it."
"Are there any further questions or issues that need to be addressed?" Senator Burchard asked, looking to either side of the panel.
"I'm satisfied." Senator Dorn replied, getting the other members to nod their heads.
"Then it is by the decision of this panel that the Citadel Council's request for Marshal Collins to perform duties for the Citadel Council outside of Alliance Jurisdiction in a capacity that may extend beyond the Alliance Charter and duties of the Systems Alliance Marshal Services be approved with the full backing of the Systems Alliance Government." The older woman picked up a gavel and tapped it upon the striker, finalizing the decision. "And Marshal?" Sam looked to the Senator.
"Good luck out there."
- A Fox Amongst The Wolves -
"That was rather intense."
Marshal Sam Collins was glad to be out of the conference room, the Sub-Committee inquest panel having been something she had partially dreaded for the past day or so. She stood in a hallway with Assistant Director Walter Skinner and Staff Marshal Emilio Torres just outside the room in which the panel had convened in, and the hour-long meeting left her feeling drained. She didn't know what would have happened if she hadn't satisfied the panel or its members, and it wasn't something she was eager to discover. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.
"Not the worst one I've sat through, not by a long shot." Skinner mused, a dry smile to his lined face. "Just sit through an Intelligence Sub-Committee Inquisition where they proceed to legally tear you a new asshole and leave you out to dry. This was merely a nice walk in the park, frankly. You handled yourself well for your first witch hunt."
"Ain't that the truth." Marshal Torres replied, wiggling his Fu Manchu. "Had me sweat a time or two, but you handled it cool as ice, Collins. I suspect that was the intent; to see how you'd react."
"All things considered, it was good practice then. I imagine with the way things are on the Citadel, a panel will be the least of my worries." Sam had been looking up news media stories and some of the in tell gleaned by the Office of Naval Intelligence for the Human Wards, and what she had read disheartened her. She was going to have her hands full for like the next year or so. At least. "Now I've got a week to prepare myself for the Citadel. I'll keep in touch with both of you and send you reports of my daily struggles."
"Don't envy you." Torres admitted with a shrug as he donned his Stetson on. "I'll send some contacts and suppliers your way to give you an idea of what you might need, as well as some files and dossiers for some potential hires. My suggestion? Get Deputies, pronto."
"Agreed." Skinner replied, nodding his head. "With the human population and the unrest that's going on, you'll be outnumbered and outgunned in the ways of legality and response. You won't succeed trying to cowboy that shit or acting like some old-school gunslinger. You'll need muscle, and fast."
"I've got a few friends who will be coming in to help." Sam replied, though she knew they were both right; she couldn't just walk in and swagger about like the new Sheriff in town. It was going to take finesse, allies, Deputies, and a whole lot of sleepless nights and grueling days. "Better grab some lunch before I start plowing through all the manuals on how to kickstart a Marshal's Office on a non-Alliance post."
"There's a manual?" Skinner asked, curious.
"There will be when she's done writing it." Torres replied, harrumphing. "I'll point you to a few good places to eat, first time on the Arc and all." The ONI Assistant Direct took the cue and bade them farewell as he left the hallway, Marshals Torres and Collins walking away from the conference room a few seconds later to leave the SAG Wing. They walked together mostly in silence until they left the Y. Gagarin Federal Building and found themselves on the ArcTram, riding towards another destination as the car was sparsely populated. Sam could tell that the few people in the Tram with them, mostly Arcturus inhabitants, looked at them sideways as citizens did whenever there was a cop around. The ArcTram finally reached a destination that Marshal Torres indicated was their stop, and Sam had to snort at the sight of a sign that said Food Court. She was actually suppose to meet someone here, and once they entered into the large place lined with fast-food restaurants and tables and chairs set out in the middle for the customers, she spied that person close to the entrance, eating what appeared to be the good ol' fashion hamburger-and-fries combo.
"Hope you don't mind some company." Sam told her contemporary as she headed towards that table, seeing the person occupying eating with one hand and reading from a datapad with the other, more reading than eating as she looked up to spy Sam approaching.
"Well, that was quicker than I expected." Petty Officer First Class Jane Catherine Shepard smiled as she set down the 'pad and the burger, wiping her hands clean with a napkin as she stood up politely. She was currently on leave, as were the rest of the Naval Security Team Members of the SSV Canberra while Battle Group Moctezuma went though a month-long repair and refit. She was dressed in semi-military fashion, wearing a Navy Blue t-shirt with the 'NAVY' monogram in gold letters displayed just above the swell of her breasts, the shirt perhaps a bit too tight on her by the way it conformed to her figure. She also had on a pair of Navy Blue cargo pants and black pleather boots, leaving no doubt that she was a service member, and which branch. "Didn't rake you over the coals too badly, I hope?"
"There were a few moments." Collins replied honestly, glad that the whole ordeal was over with. "Jane, I like for you to meet Staff Marshal Emilio Torres, of the Marshal Services."
"Petty Officer First Class Jane Shepard, SAMP." Jane extended a hand, in which Emilio shook, looking a bit amused.
"You got a carryin' license for them guns of yours, Chief?" The mustached Marshal asked wryly, obviously noting the muscular arm her hand was attached to. Jane was rather proud of the thirty-three centimeter circumference of her arms.
"These puppies don't need to worry about running out of ammo, Marse." The redhead smirked as they all joined in at the table, turning to Sam. "So… good news?"
"Good news." Collins confirmed, getting Jane to beam at her.
"Hot damn! I know you were sweating it, but you read up and studied up. Give you a few hours and some material, I don't doubt you can plan and talk your way out of anything." The Sailor was still all smiles, her green eyes sparkling as she pushed her fries towards Sam. "Still shipping out on the Tenth?"
"Yes. A lot of planning and studying for me to do, I'm afraid." That had Torres grunt. "Literally everyone else comes to their Office with everything set up. I'm practically colonizing with 'Gels and wishes."
"We'll give you a good starter budget and some toys, no worries there." Emilio offered, smiling through his mustache. "Spacecraft… you're on your own on that one. I suggest getting a mortgage plan."
"People mortgage ships?" Sam was utterly perplexed at the thought, never actually occurring to her about the cost of any kind of space travel. She looked over to Jane, who looked a little amused at her reaction.
"Don't look at me, I'm Navy; I don't buy the shit."
"What does a basic shuttle cost?" Collins asked Torres, almost ready to dread the answer.
"You know that little UT-32 Kortuga asteroid-jumper you had back in Therum?" The Marshal asked, and Sam remembered the Utility Transportation Vessel he was referring to, the one she had taken to Revan. "That cute lil' basic no-frills, no bells-and-whistle two-seater with no bathroom or place to eat? Four point three MegaCredits."
"That thing cost four million Credits?" Collins felt her jaw drop at that, hardly able to believe it. That UT-32 had the most basic of navigational computers and instrumentations, and took forever going from one system to another! "Mother of God! How do people afford ships?"
"Mortgages." Emilio nodded, his face passive. "Welcome to the Federales, Collins."
Author's Notes: This chapter was mainly just a bit of a blurb on the after effects of an action pack story. I mean, what would happen to Sergeants Roger Murtaugh and Martin Briggs after Lethal Weapon with like fifteen police-related shooting deaths? They'd be suspended-with-pay for like the next year or so while the city of LA wept at the insurance premiums. Yes, cities have insurance.
Space A - A Real Life service of the military that does indeed transport military members from one base to another, generally for a very low price. The down side to it is that it is 'Space Available' and if they run out of seats… you're waiting for the next available flight that might be heading in that direction. It isn't Delta.
Military Transportation, Cargo-130 - Based off of the C-130 Hercules Cargo Airplane used by the United States Military. Still rollin' down the strip, just like the military cadence.
Stanford Torus - A circular space station, meant to rotate to create gravity through centrifugal force. The Presidium is technically a Stanford Torus, as was Elysium from the same-named movie.
Arcturus Station - Mass Effect didn't really delve that much into Earth politics that much, but the Systems Alliance was not an Earth-based government, but is instead based off of the Arc. I believe that ArcGov and EarthGov are a duel-government in which the SA is responsible for extrasolar jurisdiction and spacial transportation and defense while EarthGov is primarily responsible for (you guessed it) Earth-related issues. The SA is funded by EarthGov, but isn't necessarily ruled by them, while the SA is more or less hands-off on Earth politics. So this is the route I am going for. The SA Constitution is a well-written document that defines and explains the separate powers and divisions of the Systems Alliance, while EarthGov has its own rules and regulations. In a sense, it is a Federal duel-Government with clear, well-defined powers and jurisdictions where EarthGov has sole responsibility for Sol System and its planets while the Systems Alliance is responsible for defending Charon Relay and everything outside of it.
MultiPass - completely stolen from The Fifth Element. Same concept as the movie, too; probably will liken it to the Military CAC (Common Access Card) or that chip thingie everyone's got on their debit cards.
Michael Dorn - Actor who played Chief of Security Commander Worf on Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Sub-Committees - I know they exist in the US Government, the Canadian Government, and the UK Government. Each Sub-Committee is responsible for its particular jurisdiction (like say, Appropriations or Intelligence, two permanent ones in the US Legislation) and generally are oversight committees that either approve of something before it happens, or review something after-the-fact. While not trials, per se, Committees and Sub-Committees are quite powerful, usually seated by Representatives or Senators with seniority in Congress, and pass a certain level of 'details' to be accepted (wouldn't want Storm Thurmond on the Committee for Civil Rights, after all). Being on one is quite prestigious, and heading one even more so. Senator John McCain has been seated on both the Committee for Defense and Sub-Committee for Military Spending for like… ever.
33cm - 13 inches, almost on the dot. It's not super huge on a woman, but pretty obvious.
Ship Mortgages? Thanks to the 2105 Edition of the Starship Construction Manual by www. woinrpg .com and www. enpublishing .com for this idea! My go-to books on all things astronautical!
And hold on to your keisters, kiddies. Because when you're surrounded by aliens... human lives matter.
The next series of chapters are monsters at 20,000+ words. I haven't made one that is less than 21,000.