I'd like to give a big shoutout to GeneratedName, author of When Civilizations Meet and future author of When Civilizations Meet 2.0. Without his advice and guidance, this story would have become a forgotten note in the bowels of my laptop's hard drive.
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Orbital Installation, Epyrus
12:90, 32 Arart 2031 Galactic Standard
Lieutenant Gaicus Marcedus was, in the tradition of sensors officers throughout the multiverse, bored. That was, officially, a desirable quality. Officially, if there were anything to be excited about or interested in, it was either a Bad Thing or above his paygrade. Unofficially, an invasion would be preferable to trying to pay attention to the stubbornly blank sensor arrays covering the wall in front of him. There wasn't even any incoming traffic. Epyrus didn't get much traffic. Not legitimate traffic, at any rate. Pirates seemed to come at least twice a month, taking advantage of the relatively light security forces in the system. But the last scheduled Relay activity had been half a week ago, and there wasn't anything else scheduled for another two days.
Which was why a massive dreadnought coming in from the outer limits of the system was obviously an error of some sort. Especially since the ship was only showing up on the gravitic sensors, and not the radar, radiation, thermographic, and radio charts. Nonetheless, Gaicus was a good Turian, and good Turians followed orders and protocol. In this case, that meant he was to call in a techie, and try to get a LADAR read on the "serpent" in case it turned out to be something more than an error.
"Command, this is Sensor Station 3," he relayed to his superiors. "I'm getting anomalous readings from the sensors. Requesting tech support and verification of functionality of equipment."
"Sensor Three, this is Command. Your station received maintenance less than a week ago. Equipment should be fully functional. Please run a diagnostics check, and attempt to validate anomalous readings," came the slightly puzzled reply.
"As ordered, Command. Diagnostics check underway, and I am already attempting to get a LADAR read on the anomaly. Expecting results within thirty minutes."
"Carry on, Sensors Three. Command logging out."
Gaicus sighed, and leaned back in his chair as the diagnostics ran its course. They'd probably left the "maintenance" to some idiot suit rat, rather than having a proper tech take care of it, that was all. The LADAR ping would show that nothing was out there, and he'd get to take the day off once a tech got up here and started working on repairs. Until then, there wasn't much else to do but wait.
Except that the diagnostic came up negative, when it was finished fifteen minutes later.
And the LADAR, when the signal finally got back, showed an image of a three kilometer ship, in a state of obvious disrepair, headed towards the planet.
The young lieutenant nearly tripped over his feet in his attempt to raise the alarm.
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The Javelin, Epyrus Defense Fleet
13:73, 32 Arart 2031 Galactic Standard
High Captain Verasia Simpraka glanced at her Executive Officer as she strode onto the bridge.
"Sitrep, Isatus," she snapped out quickly as she began to pull up the latest reports on the invader.
"The unknown ship appeared approximately oh-point-eight hours ago on the gravitics arrays of Sensor Station Three," began the XO. "None of the other sensors detected it- only the gravitics. The soldier on watch at the time initially thought it was a technical error, and attempted to validate the anomalous readings via LADAR. LADAR showed an image of a ship, roughly 3.2 kilometers long and in poor condition, approaching the planet at subluminal speeds. The defense fleet scrambled at approximately 13:25. Almost immediately, the unknown ship changed heading to an intercept course with the fleet. The ship in question does not match any known profiles, and there are no colonies on record within FTL distance in the region of space the ship seems to have come from. There has been no change in heading or activity since the ship moved to the intercept course."
"Understood, XO Isatus. Sensors, can you give me any details on the ship?" the High Captain asked as she sat down at the command console.
"Not much more than XO Isatus could, ma'am. It only shows up at all on gravitics and LADAR. It must be running some sort of stealth system, though why they're still running it when we can obviously see them, I don't know. The LADAR imaging shows what very well might be gunports, as well as missing hull plates and possible impact sites. All in all, it looks like a warship that lost a fight. The only really significant thing of note is that there's no signs of any eezo on the entire ship."
Verasia's flanges widened at that. That meant that either this ship was built on totally unimagined technology, or it was a generation or sleeper ship. The implications of either were... significant.
"Very well. Evidence suggests that this is a First Contact scenario, and we will follow protocol to the letter. Is that understood, everybody?" There was a chorus of agreements, and the turian nodded in satisaction. "Good. Comms, send a message directly to both the Council and the Council of Primarchs. As soon as that is done, begin recording."
There was a pause, and the Communications Officer spoke. "Recording in five, Captain."
Verasia waited for a few seconds, then spoke. "Unknown vessel, this is High Captain Verasia Simpraka representing the Turian Hierarchy. If you understand this message, please respond on the indicated frequency and explain your presence in Hierarchy territory. If not, the files attached should give you some aid in translating our language and finding a way to communicate."
"Recording and first contact package sent."
A few minutes passed, and the comms officer spoke. "We're getting a transmission from the serpent, ma'am. Standard frequency."
Simpraka's mandibles flared in surprise. The fact that the unknown ship was actually using the right frequency meant that either this wasn't a first contact, or the aliens knew Turian. "Play the transmission."
The vidscreen turned on, and an image of a creature very much like an Asari-but with white skin and black fur instead of a headcrest- appeared and began speaking.
"Captain Simpraka," the alien said with the slightly tinny tone of a flawed translator, "this is President Flurenze Midjel, representing the Escape Fleet. I have come to officially request the aid and assistance of the Citadel Council."
There was a great deal of activity on the bridge at that statement, but Verasia ignored it.
"Comms, begin recording on my mark," she said to the officer. Then, once the recording light had turned blue, she began. "President Midjel, I would like to establish a direct link with you, so as to enable better communication, if our technologies are compatible."
"Message sent."
"Good. Comms, if they agree, establish the link, and route the message to the debriefing room. XO Isatus, you have the bridge."
"As you will, captain."
Simpraka rose, and moved to the debriefing room adjoining the bridge, and sat down in a chair facing the main vidscreen. A few moments passed, and the screen lit up, showing President Midjel's face once more.
"Hello, and on behalf of the Citadel Council, welcome, President Midjel," said Simpraka formally.
"Thank you, Captain Simpraka. I hope that our races will get along peacefully."
"As do I, President Midjel. You understand, though, if I will ask a few questions."
"Of course, Captain Simpraka."
"Firstly, how do you speak or understand Turian?"
"The Escape Fleet has been studying the colony of Epyrus for over eight galactic months. That was more than enough time for my techs to be able to develop a translation software."
"And why have you been studying my people?" Verasia asked, somewhat angrily.
"Because, Captain, the Fleet is all that is left of the Human race. If we were to ask for aid, only to immediately be conquered, my race would likely be driven extinct. We have not fled for two thousand years, only to be destroyed at our destination. We had to be absolutely certain that you would not seek to kill or enslave us, and the only way to do that was to spy on your people."
The captain's mandibles flared once more. "Two thousand years? Your people have been running for two thousand years? From what?" Then she caught herself, and shook her head. "I apologize, President Midjel. That should not be the most important of the things you just said. You say that the fleet is all that remains. Exactly how large is your fleet? And how many humans are on it?"
"I understand, Captain Simpraka. It would seem rather extreme, were I in your position, rather than the other way around. To answer your question, the Escape Fleet contains twenty-one vessels, twenty of which remain serviceable, and one point two million Human beings."
"Spirits... And that's all that's left of your race?"
"Indeed."
"And, if you don't mind my asking, what were you fleeing from?"
President Midjel hesitated. "A being of immense power, which attacked our world. Suffice to say that it was responsible for the deaths of over thirty five billion Humans, and the destruction of our home world."
Simpraka gaped. "I...see," she said eventually. "And the aid you requested?"
"Fuel. Materials to repair our ships and their systems, if it can be spared. Shelter, if it can be found. Food for over a million people. Medical supplies for the same. Clothes, shoes, and blankets for at least a third of our population. In our current condition, we can survive for, at a maximum, twenty of your years. If the Citadel were to lend us supplies for half that time, our odds of survival would improve immeasurably. We have little to repay you with, but it might be possible to share some of our technology. Much of our more advanced technology is dangerous, but we have some things which your civilization lacks."
"For example?" Verasia prompted.
"I'm afraid I can only share that information with either the Council, or an ambassador who is fully authorized to negotiate on the Council's behalf. That is, in fact, the reason why we came here today. The Humanity's Hope has lost it's Void Drive- our method of FTL. It is, essentially, stranded. We would have gone to meet the Council directly, but the civilians aboard the Hope cannot be abandoned, and the other ships lack the room to take them aboard. If you could arrange for either an ambassador or an alternative method of transportation, we would be happy to begin discussions. We have already compiled a brief history and codex of my people and our culture, which will be transmitted as soon as this discussion is over."
"I'm afraid I will have to contact my superiors for that, President Midjel. Is there anything I can do in the meantime?"
"If you have a surplus of levo-amino foods, or of various metals, my people would be grateful to have them. Other than that, there is little that we can do for now."
"I'll see what I can do."
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The Black Box, The Citadel
11:48, 1 Suria 2031 Galactic Standard
"Finally, we have what could be a very important matter, depending on how we handle it," said Councilor Tevos as she poured a glass of Serrice N Brandy for herself, and offered the bottle to her counterparts. The drink was, essentially, a Serrice Ice Brandy of ridiculously high quality (which was saying something, considering the quality of the "cheap" stuff). Despite the name (and the advertisements), N Brandy did not, in fact, have anything to do with liquid nitrogen- that was simply a marketing gimmick.
"Assume you are speaking of the race asking for Council aid," said Dimort, the Salarian councilor, as he ignored the bottle in favor of the large pot in front of him, and the small, spiky urchin-like creatures it contained. "Could indeed be very significant. Codex implies highly unusual technology, if Humans are willing to trade."
"Frankly, this 'codex' of theirs seems more like a religious text than anything else, and that religion is mostly a hoax," argued Councilor Erasnion, as he took the proffered bottle and poured himself a glass. "I mean, let's look at a basic summary. Twenty-three hundred years ago, they discovered an artifact which allowed them to perform magic and use mathematics and geometry completely different from anything in reality. They built new technology off of this. The bizarre mathematics involved drive their researchers insane, so they create an organization to regulate the knowledge. Then some cult awakens a god, and it attacks their planet. Within one year, only a million humans are left. They use a device of some sort to make their sun go nova, and then leave their home galaxy. Now, here's what I think happened. They discovered a Prothean beacon, or ruins, or artifacts of some kind. The scientists wanted to keep the power to themselves, so they came up with this nonsense about it driving people insane, and being based on magic. These 'sorcerers' of theirs are simply biotics, obviously, who have been convinced that they have to use rituals and spells to use their abilities. The 'Others' are clearly the result of some sort of deranged genetic and cybernetic experimentation, if they're not just ordinary people in costumes. There was some sort of civil war, or maybe an alien invasion. The propaganda, of course, tells people that they're under attack by one of the 'Outer Gods' that their religion talks about. This group lost the war, and, rather than face defeat, activated some sort of horrifyingly powerful weapon of mass destruction. The survivors make up this nonsense story about leaving the galaxy. They lie to their people about the speed of their FTL, and spend the next few hundred years going to a new solar system- Epyrus. It hasn't been two thousand years at all- probably no more than a couple hundred, given their lifespans. The leadership has just been lying, and this University is still hoarding all the knowledge on technology. They find us, and realize that if they tell us the truth, but keep lying to their people, they'll be in trouble. Or maybe the leadership at this point truly believes the nonsense their predecessors have been saying. Either way, they spin us this fairy tale, and present it to us as history." Finally finished, Erasnion leaned back and took a sip of his brandy.
The other two councilors thought through what their companion had said, then nodded.
"That does seem to be the case," Tevos began. "I suspect that the current leaders genuinely believe the story they gave us, though. As you said, their supposed history seems to have been made into a religion of sorts. And since they have a semi-democratic leadership, the leaders who concocted the story would have eventually had to pass on the position to people who didn't know the truth. At that point, they had a choice of telling them what had really happened, and risking it get out, or just continuing the lie. I suspect that a few individuals kept up the ruse for a few generations, until it had finally become universally accepted, and then let the truth die out. But what of this 'Psychiatric Institute'? They supposedly kill off sorcerers and scientists who go insane. How do they keep that ruse up?"
It was the Salarian, and, more importantly, former STG head, who answered that question. "Is simple practice," Dimort began. "No witnesses to executions. Executions never happened. Supposedly insane scientists retire to a life of luxury, but seclusion. Luxury provides incentive to willingly cooperate, while seclusion ensures that the general populace never sees the supposedly dead individuals."
The Turian and Asari councilors exchanged a glance. From how readily their counterpart had proposed the suggestion, they suspected that this was a former, if not current, practice of the STG regarding "assassinated" operatives. The practices of the STG were not their concern, however.
"So, in summary, this University has a conspiracy designed to ensure that they maintain a monopoly on their technological capabilities, while a former conspiracy has been transformed into a perverted religion among their people. The scientists will doubtless refuse to share their technology, because when our scientists study it without going insane, the game will be up. They have no resources to trade, and possibly practice genetic experimentation. And you two are proposing that we give them aid?" Erasnion seemed dubious.
"Their religion may be a perversion to us," Tevos said, "but it is all these people know. Why would they doubt what has been presented to them as truth for centuries? The origin or reality of their religion says nothing of the people, while their devotion to it is admirable. And can we really deny aid to a species in such dire need?"
"Would set a dangerous precedent. Quarians in similar position," Dimort pointed out. "But could be to our advantage. STG and Spectres could likely get ahold of technology or schematics. Could provide benefits."
Tevos carefully avoided mentioning her views on the Quarian plight, knowing that her "allies" did not share her opinion on the matter. Instead, she presented the official party line- "The Quarians broke Council law. These people have not. Or at least, not intentionally. Should we agree to give them aid, they would, of course, have to become an Associate Race, and follow the laws of the Council regarding genetic experimentation. It would not take a great deal of resources to feed only a million people. Not in a galaxy populated by billions. And we would almost certainly gain at least some new technology. They couldn't possibly keep the STG and the Spectres out forever, and once they do, reverse engineering any samples we capture should be a simple enough task."
Erasnion shook his head irritably. "I can see that the two of you are determined to go through with this. Very well, I shall agree. When are these lunatics getting to the Citadel?"
Tevos scowled at the Turian, but instead answered his question. "The representatives of the Humans will be arriving within the week. Among them will be a few of their top scientists, their President and her advisors, including the leader of the supposed 'Eldritch Society', and a small security force. There will also be a number of their 'Psychiatrists', who will be acting as security for the scientists. They were adamant that the Psychiatrists be present in addition to the regular security force. Apparently, the leader of the University, as the result of his supposed 'insanity', can become extremely violent without warning. They didn't outright say it, but I suspect that he has committed at least one murder for the sake of this ruse."
"And you two want to help these people," Erasnion said with a certain degree of disgust.
"The actions of a few individuals do not condemn the race," Tevos said carefully. "The Professors at this University are truly despicable, yes. But the rest of them believe that tolerating the insanity of their scientists is necessary for their survival. They do not realize that they are being duped, and act as best as they can with the knowledge they have."
"Perhaps. But the race has committed atrocious acts in the past, and I see no indication that they will not in the future."
Tevos simply shrugged and took a sip of her drink, before responding "We shall see."
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The Presidium, The Citadel
10:00, 5 Suria 2031 Galactic Standard
Tevos, Dimort, and Erasnion watched as the shuttle bearing the human delegates landed. Traditionally, the Councilors would have waited in the imposing, and ostentatious official Council Chambers for alien delegates to arrive. This would have shown and symbolized that they had been waiting for centuries for the younger races to come and seek the guidance and wisdom of the Council. By going out to meet the aliens, but sending an ambassador for any business beyond the Citadel itself, it instead showed that they were willing to go out of their way to aid the Humans, but only so far as was reasonable in light of their other duties.
The shuttle door opened, and figures began to come out. First, the C-Sec squad that had been assigned to the delegates. Next, two Humans in what appeared to be power armor, carrying large, heavy guns. The soldiers took up posts on either side of the door, standing perfectly still and clutching their weapons in front of them. Four more Humans-three males and a female- came out, wearing black pants, a white top of some sort, with a black jacket over it, and some kind of black strip hanging from their necks, and formed into two lines, extending out from the door and facing the crowd. Next came a male and a female, these in gray pants and blue shirts with red strips. On their hips were what appeared to be some form of small arms, and in their hands were black batons. They joined the line formed by the humans in black. Finally, the actual delegates came out. First came a female that the Councilors recognized as President Midjel, accompanied by five other Humans. President Midjel and two of her companions wore attire identical to that of the four in black. One of them had glowing blue implants for eyes, and wore the gray pants and blue shirt, but with a violet strip hanging from his neck. The next was in some sort of dress uniform. The last was, again, wearing the black pants and jacket, white shirt, and a black strip hanging from his neck (this seemed to be the standard formal attire for the Humans). The primary difference was that his hands were tightly bound behind his back, and he wore a look which would, on an Asari, indicate some sort of strain or significant discomfort.
"It seems a rather excessive show, doesn't it?" Erasnion muttered to his companions.
"No more excessive than the show most species give upon their first arrival to the Citadel. In fact, compared to the Batarians' arrival, this is positively casual," came Tevos's reply. "Although, having one of their members bound like a criminal is a nice touch. He is, without a doubt, Dean Hurtun, their lead scientist."
"Indeed. Would not be surprised if, during the discussions or dinner, he broke out into a violent episode to 'prove' his insanity."
Erasnion smirked, while Tevos just shook her head in sadness at how these people had been misguided and manipulated.
The Councilors looked at each other. "Time for us to meet delegates." Dimort said, to which Tevos smiled softly, and Erasnion shrugged. Together, the three most powerful beings in the galaxy faced the humans and stepped forward to greet the delegates of a tiny, primitive and brainwashed race as equals.
"Welcome to the Citadel, President Midjel. I am Councilor Tevos, and these are my partners, Councilor Erasnion and Councilor Dimort. The three of us represent the Citadel Council, the guiding hand of the galaxy." Tevos, as usual, had been nominated to be the spokesbeing for the Council, and would be doing most of the talking, if all went according to plan.
"It's a pleasure, Councilor Tevos. These are Admiral Wilbert Turner" she gestured toward the human in dress uniform, "Jake Jonzon, head of the Logistics Office," one of the humans in the apparent formal outfit, "Owen Carr, the head of the Eldritch society," the other human in the formal attire, "Doctor Jack Harper, the head of the Psychiatric Institute," the one with the implants in his eyes, "and Dean Paedru Hurtun, head of the University of Lovecraftian Science," the man with his arms bound. "They are my advisors and cabinet, and we represent Humanity."
Tevos nodded at each of the Humans in turn, then turned to Midjel. "Traditionally, we would offer you a tour of the Citadel, and then conduct the discussions in the public Council Chambers. We thought, however, that you might prefer to skip the tour, and that the discussions might best be held in a private office."
"I appreciate the thought, Councilor Tevos. While I would certainly love a tour at some point, it would be best to conduct the discussions first. And yes, in private would certainly be best."
"Very well, then. If you will follow us, we will begin immediately. Afterwards, we would be honored if you would join us in an official banquet, where the representatives, ambassadors, and leaders of the Citadel races would be thrilled to meet you."
Midjel raised her eyebrows, and her gaze seemed to shift, ever so slightly, towards the bound man, but she simply said "We would be honored to join you, Councilor Tevos." Dean Hurtun visibly cringed at this, but said nothing.
Tevos's smile widened ever so slightly. They had arranged so that the Dean would be next to an STG researcher. If he had an "episode", he would be taken down immediately. If not, the Salarian would engage the man in scientific discussions, and attempt to learn what he could.
"Excellent! I'm sure it will be an enlightening experience for all of us. But first, more important matters are at hand. This way, if you please."
The Human party followed the Councilors through the Presidium, into the elevator, and into the Citadel's tower, where they went through the Council Chambers and into the more private offices at the back. As they moved, the two humans in power armor and the four in black took up positions around the party, while the two Humans in blue shirts (apparently some sort of uniform for the Psychiatric Institute) fell into place slightly behind and on either side of the Dean.
The room they entered was quite unlike the ostentatiously imposing Council Chambers where public audiences were held. It held several comfortable armchairs, each of which had a small table next to them. A larger table was in the center of the arrangement, which had a set of six omnitools resting on it.
The councilors remained standing, but indicated for their guests to sit down.
"Would you care for any refreshments?" Tevos asked.
"No, thank you. There will be time for that later, hopefully."
"Very well, then. These," the Asari gestured towards the omnitools, "are Omnitools. We had them prepared for you in order to make the discussions easier. With them, you will be able to view and edit the documents we have prepared for the discussions, as well as study our people and history. It was proposed that you be given a few hours in private to learn how to work them, discuss matters among yourselves, and study the Codex which is available to all citizens of the Council races. We understand that you have been discretely studying the colony of Epyrus for some time now, and thought that providing a more complete picture might be helpful."
"Thank you very much, Councilor Tevos. That sounds like an excellent idea. The information we gathered is far from complete. And to answer a question I'm sure you carefully won't ask, we limited our studies to public transmissions. There were many among us who wanted to read private and encrypted transmissions, but it was decided that it would be best not to anger you in the event that you had a way to detect such things."
Tevos was surprised at this. Not at the statement, but the explanation of the reasoning. President Midjel had more or less openly stated that the sole reason they hadn't spied on military or private communications was that they didn't want to get caught. Most races would at least pretend it was out of respect for the rights of others or the laws regarding such issues. Not that she believed for an instant that the Humans had restricted themselves to public communications.
"Well, I suppose an opportunity to study the Codex is more important than we thought, then. With your permission, we will leave to take care of other matters while you familiarize yourselves with the Omnitools, and come back in a few hours."
"That would be perfect, Councilor Tevos." Midjel said.
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Some time later, the Councilors were sitting together in the Black Box, the highly secret and incredibly secure room where the most sensitive of discussions were held.
"Human soldiers were remarkably thorough," Dimort was saying. "Managed to find not only all of the decoys, but many of the real bugs as well. Even fewer survived purge. Humans used unknown device to shortcircuit many bugs. Fortunately, some survived. Is sufficient, if unsatisfactory. Will have STG begin work on analysis of device used, and ways to negate it."
"Do they think that they're secure, though?" Erasnion asked.
"Undoubtedly. Have discussed many topics which would not want to reveal to us. Examples: flagship is out of commission not because of mechanical error, but because of unauthorized and potentially dangerous experiment on enhancing their FTL drive. Did, in fact, monitor secure and military communications. Soldiers are genetically modified, and suspect this 'Eldritch Society' works heavily with genetic experimentation and modification, as well as other potentially unethical fields. Humans clearly believe that they can speak freely after activation of unknown device. Which makes next recording an anomaly." Dimort pressed a button on his Omnitool, and the voice of Owen Carr played out of it.
"There's something strange going on here, ma'am."
"What do you mean, Owen?" President Midjel said.
"I can't quite describe it. You'd need experience with the Eldritch to understand it, and most mortals don't have enough experience to notice it. But look around you. My operatives are even more restless than normal, and Dean Hurtun looks as if he's going to be ill."
"I feel like it, too. I know I haven't had an episode in a few days, but normally they come without warning. I don't think that's what this is. It feels a lot like when I'm working out of the Necronomicon, but different."
"And that is significant cause for concern. If something of the Eldritch, or something like it, is at work here, it must be found and contained. We left Sol to get away from the Ancient Ones. We don't want to find that our new home was created by them. These people say that the Citadel was made by the Protheans, but it's too old for that. Any member of the Society could tell that, just by being near it. It's even older than some of the artifacts we used to work with before the War."
There was a gasp at this declaration. "What can we do?"
"For now? Nothing. If there is truly an artifact here, it could be that everybody on this station is a member of a Cult. We cannot allow them to know that we suspect them, but we cannot allow them to live, if they are Cultists."
"If I may, I have a suggestion." This was Dr. Harper, now. "The Therapists have noticed that Professors, when affected by their mental illnesses, have different mental patterns than would be expected. Former Dean Zwanzon, for example, was almost constantly giving unique readings we couldn't understand. Dean Hurtun, on the other hand, has episodic events, during which his readings are disturbingly similar to those on record as having been noted with Cultists and some Sorcerers. Namely, the ones who were receiving psychic signals from Azhorra-Tha, Cthulhu, or other Ancient Ones. Now, whatever phenomena is occurring here is likely to be significantly different from the ones that we are familiar with, but they may work on similar principles. If we were to induce an episode in the Dean, he may be able to form a sort of corrupted connection with whatever is happening."
"And then I'd turn into a Cultist. I don't particularly feel like being executed, thank you." Hurtun replied sharply.
"Not so. Your brain is, under normal conditions, remarkably resilient against mental intrusion. That's one of the reasons you are able to work with Lovecraftian artifacts as much as you do without being driven insane or becoming a Cultist. It is, in fact, the only reason the Institute has seen fit to allow your continued existence in any sense. Were you even slightly less resistant to mental control, you would have been executed the moment we became aware of your alternate state."
"Wonderful. And if I'm permanently altered by whatever's going on here?"
"In light of this development, whether we induce an episode or not, you will be submitted to rigorous testing upon our return to the Fleet. Should any kind of permanent change have taken place, you will be retired or executed immediately. So, from your perspective, the only difference that would occur is that your episode will occur in private, and be gotten over with, rather than running the risk of it happening in public. As you said, it has been several days since your last episode. The stimulation and uncertainty of a banquet would be dangerous, and the odds of your not having an episode there are virtually nil, unless you have already undergone it. We can only theorize as to why, but my agents have noticed a minimum gap of seven point six hours between your psychological breakdowns. That should be plenty of time for us to get you out of here safely."
At this, Midjel spoke up. "Hurtun, it is essential that we make a good impression on these people. They probably think we're lunatics, given what we've told them. If you attack or kill anybody, we're going to have a lot more trouble on our hands than we need. If we can get a grace period, that would ensure that at least one potential problem is out of the way."
The councilors could all picture the look of distaste on Hurtun's face as he spoke. "Fine, dammit. But if I'm permanently altered, I want a bullet in the head. Don't you dare keep me on for experimentation or study, or even as a brain-in-a-jar. I've read the histories- Cultists can be charismatic, and they have some way of spreading their... whatever they have. More to the point, I don't particularly feel like living as an experiment for the next few years."
"Fair enough," Midjel said. "Dr. Harper, go ahead."
"As you wish, madam President. Lieutenants, if you will bind him more securely, and draw your weapons, we will begin immediately. Nonlethal methods only- the Dean is too valuable a scientist to lose unless no alternatives are available."
There was some movement, and some sort of unpleasant noise began to play over the recording. A few minutes later, it stopped, and they could hear Hurtun screaming, then laughing, and then shouting some sort of unintelligible gibberish.
"Rug'weshp fccporl fhtagn pois'tiw..."
"Carr, can you understand him?"
"Some, ma'am. It's clearly related to the Old Languages, but it's either garbled or in a dialect we're not familiar with. I can make out something about a Harvest, and the word 'sleeping', or perhaps 'waiting'. I can't make out a word of this part. The word 'Harvest' again, then what seems like nonsense even to me, and 'Vanguard', then something about a betrayal by slaves. It's not a spell or a summoning, I'm fairly sure- it doesn't have the right... well, layout, is the best way to put it. It seems like he's just chanting something."
"How long do his episodes usually last?"
"They can continue for over an hour, but normally not much more. This, as he indicated before we began, is far from typical, however. Normally he doesn't say a word, he just kills and eats anyone he can get his hands on. I honestly couldn't say how long this is going to continue."
Carr spoke up again. "It's interesting to note that whatever we were feeling seems to have increased as soon as he began speaking. I can feel it much more strongly now."
"Well, what should we do? Can we sedate him?"
"I'd advise against it. As unpleasant as this feeling is, if we can translate what he's saying, it might give us useful information. I'm willing to put up with the discomfort for as long as it takes, if it will be useful, and my agents will alert me if it gets to be too much for them to handle. I suggest we set up a recording device, and ignore him."
Dimort ended the recording, and pulled up another. "The only things of interest for the next hour or so are their unusually strong objections to the Genophage, and the expected reaction to the Quarian situation."
"Did... did that man say that the Dean eats his victims?" Tevos asked, visibly nauseated.
"Indeed. Is probably just a claim made to further hoax, but may be willing to go so far as to actually perform the action occasionally. Not enough data. However, is related to next clip."
Dimort pressed play, and the sounds of the Humans arguing about something began. After a few moments, Hurtun's voice spoke.
"Can I be untied now? At least for that seven hour grace period you mentioned?" the Dean sounded rather strained, as if he had actually gone through a trying ordeal.
"I fail to see any reason why not. Lieutenant, remove his bindings, if you will."
A few moments of relative silence, then the sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a great deal of activity, including some shouting.
"You fucking bastard," Hurtun could be heard saying. "Bit my tongue my ass. How many?"
"I'd wondered if you were conscious for that. Would it really help you in any conceivable way to know how many human beings you've killed and eaten? I think not. Suffice to know that safeguards have been in place for some time now, and it is no longer a concern. Should you feel the need to assault me again, I will have my agents sedate you for the duration of our trip here. Agreed?"
"Safeguards? You put up safeguards to make sure I didn't EAT PEOPLE? Bullshit. I should've been retired after my first victim. And I will be, as soon as we get back to the Fleet."
"No." Midjel spoke now. "You are too valuable a researcher to lose, especially in light of what Professor Zwanzon did to the Hope. If you like, you can be put under a twenty-four hour guard, but you will not be retired. Not even just to an advisory role."
Hurtun grunted. "Fine. Twenty four hour guard. Even during the grace period, dammit. And I want reparations to the families of the victims and witnesses. Don't bullshit me, Harper. I may be a lunatic, but I'm still damned smart, and any idiot could figure out that you've been killing the witnesses to my attacks. Heavy reparations, or I'll tell the poor bastards what really happened to their loved ones. Understood?"
"Are you blackmailing the Institute?"
"Yes. Yes I fucking am. As you said, I'm too valuable a researcher to kill. And before you even think of going there, if my family faces any kind of accidents, I'll talk, dammit. And not just about me. I know what that maniac Adams got up to in his spare time, and he was perfectly sane. There's all sorts of information out there, to somebody smart enough to find it."
"Enough." Midjel spoke harshly. "Hurtun, you will not speak of anything that can harm the government, the Institute, or the University. Harper, you will restrict your assassinations to people who absolutely must be put down for the sake of security, and pay their families reparations. Anonymously, and in a manner that doesn't make them ask questions we can't answer, but you will pay reparations from now on. But I will not have two of Humanity's most essential organizations wiping each other out in a blood feud. Understood?" A pause, here. "Good. Now, Dean Hurtun, you say you were conscious during this last episode. What can you tell me?"
"Not much that you don't already know. It hurt like hell. I said weird shit. I was going in and out, to be honest. I was only awake a bit at a time. No, I can't remember or translate any of what I said. I know some of the Old Languages from my work, but I doubt I'd be able to figure out anything that the Society can't."
"Nonetheless, I want you to work with the Society during the translations. Your perspective might prove to be helpful. And I don't want a word of anything about this to get out, you hear me? If you so much as dream about what's happened here, I swear to Lovecraft I will have you executed for treason. People are already worked up enough over the idea of getting a new home. We can't let them find out that there may be Eldritch activity here until we know exactly what is going on. As far as anybody knows, nothing has changed."
The recording ended.
"I'm sorry, but why did we need to listen to this?" Erasnion asked. "All I can make out is proof that these organizations of theirs are manipulating the people. I suppose President Midjel's words present her in a new light, but beyond that, I don't see any real significance beyond this."
Tevos shook her head. Like most Turians, Erasnion's thinking was simply too honest and straightforward for a real politician. He was, at heart, a general.
"Don't you see? With that little act of theirs, they just shattered our plans. By pretending to have been under the influence of some sort of artifact and that the Citadel is much older than the Protheans, the Dean has given the Humans a reason not to trust us. They have convinced President Midjel that we may be brainwashed by something from their religion. If we bring up our demands for the dismantling of the University and the Eldritch Society, she will take it as confirmation that we are members of one of these Cults that they fear so much. In demanding his own execution should he be 'altered', he ensured that she will take the threat seriously. To make it worse, they have ruined any hope we have of exposing their charade. By pretending to have only just learned about his supposed cannibalistic tendencies, and by insisting that he be placed under an armed guard and demanding reparations for those harmed by the act, Dean Hurtun has ensured that the President will feel greater trust and sympathy for him."
"In other words, they were making sure there wasn't any risk that they would be exposed, because their president no longer trusts us. Wonderful. So what do we do now? Hope that they don't tell the next president the same thing? Because I doubt that will work."
"Indeed not," said Dimort. "Must find undeniable proof, if wish to end conspiracy. Will be difficult. Probably require physical evidence, or cooperation of a conspirator. Will claim that anything digital has been faked, and play off of mistrust and supposed brainwashing."
"In the meantime, we must modify the proposal we will suggest to them. I think we can still demand they stop creating 'Others,' as they are a clear violation of council law. And, using their own claims, we can force them to limit the control of their University. If their technology is too dangerous to share with our scientists, surely it is too dangerous to share with the public! I think that a galaxy wide restriction regarding any 'Lovecraftian' technology would be quite reasonable. If they can only use their technology on the single colony we give them, surely they will adopt Mass Effect technology. That removes the University's monopoly on production. Especially once we manage to duplicate any devices they might have which we lack."
"Very well. I suppose it's about time we go meet the Humans for the actual discussions, then. It's not like we can gain anything more by waiting."
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Midjel looked up as Tevos and the other Councilors entered, and smiled as warmly as she could manage given what she had learned.
"Well, we trust that the past few hours have been helpful?" Tevos said, as warmly as she could manage given what she had learned.
"Very much so, Councilor. We appreciate the assistance you gave us."
"It would be remiss of us to do otherwise, in light of the situation. Even with time you were given, you will be at a severe disadvantage in the discussions, and it would be unfair of us to take advantage of your, if you will pardon the term, ignorance. We might gain some temporary advantage, but any perceived deception on our part would lead to resentment and strife between your race and the Council, meaning that we may lose something in the long run."
"I find that to be impressively enlightened, Councilor Tevos. I hope that others share your view, though something tells me I will be less than fortunate in that regard."
"Indeed." Tevos' smile faltered slightly, but at the same time became more sincere. The President had a certain coldness to her, as indicated by her acceptance of Harper's assassinating witnesses to certain acts, but she truly did try to do the best thing for her people. As far as she knew, Harper's methods were essential for the progression, and even survival of her species.
The Councilors joined the Humans in the circle of chairs, and Tevos leaned forward. "Regardless of our methods, it is now time to begin the discussions, I believe. The first, and most important matter, is that of your new home. You will be granted, should you agree to certain conditions, the Turian colony of Gellix, which they find to be a hindrance, rather than a benefit, for a variety of reasons. You will not force any current residents to leave the planet or solar system, but the system will be under your jurisdiction, and the residents will be required to abide by your laws and acknowledge your rule, and whatever government the Human race deems suitable for their new situation. The system, especially the planet, is already fairly developed, but largely unused. Any abandoned installations, facilities, or equipment currently within the system will become the property of the Human government. Any activities occurring in the system will, likewise, become the responsibility of the Human government."
The humans were visibly surprised at the generosity of the Council, which Tevos took advantage of, and presented her next statement while they were off balance.
"In exchange, the Human race will become an Associate Race of the Citadel Council. The Human government will be required to comply with and enforce all Council laws, as well as new modifications and specifics created to suit your unusual situation, culture, and technology. You will pay a moderate tax to the Council, and in exchange receive the protection of the Citadel's forces, trade rights, benefits, and aid as befits any Associate Race, as well as an Embassy on the Citadel. You will be required to, within one standard galactic century, have adopted Standard Galactic Time for all official business. You would be required to adopt the Standard Galactic Credit as your currency within twenty five standard galactic years. Those are the basics, though there are, of course, a great deal many more details."
"You mentioned modifications and new specifics created for humanity. What kind of new rules would we be required to follow?" Midjel asked.
"Ultimately, the modifications exist to expand the existing laws to cover Lovecraftian technology and methods. For example, many, if not all, of the methods your codex described for the creation of Others violate the intent, but not the letter, of the laws concerning genetic modification and experimentation. Under the modifications we have created, the creation of Others will fall under the realm of genetic modification. There are other examples such as this, but that is the primary concern."
"I'm afraid that is unacceptable," Carr said. Tevos had expected as much, but didn't interrupt. "Others are not only an important part of Human culture, we are a full culture of our own. Many of us, myself included, are actually the sole remaining examples of ancient Human cultures. I, for example, am one of a handful of remaining Human who was raised in the United States of America, and the only remaining United States Congressman. There is one surviving member of the People's Republic of China. A single married couple is the entire United Kingdoms. Were you to ban the creation of Others, you would be infringing on our cultural rights, and the preservation of existing Human culture."
The councilors stood in an almost stunned silence, before Erasnion nearly growled. "What did you just say?"
Carr smiled softly. "I said, that if you were to ban the creation of Others, you would be infringing on the cultural rights of Humanity, and banning the preservation of our current and future culture. Historically, if any Human has discovered a method of becoming an Other, it has been viewed as his inalienable right to enact the procedure, so long as it did not bring any other humans to harm. Under your new rules, that inalienable right will have been revoked. Humans have sought to become Others for nearly as long as we have walked upright. It is a significant part of our cultural psyche. Eliminating the right to enact the procedure would seek to eliminate that drive for over a million humans, when only a few, if any, would succeed in even discovering the methods required. The Citadel Council has millions of established legal precedents of noninterference in regards to violation of Council Law as part of the Council's cultural noninterference policies. Banning the creation of Others goes against this noninterference policy, and violating the standing legal precedents indicates a massive and potentially disruptive change in policy."
"And how would banning your genetic experiments be disruptive in any way?" Tevos could have slapped Erasnion for that, but it was already out, and the human's smile had turned feral.
"Well, if the Citadel Council were to adopt a policy of enforcing Council law, regardless of long standing cultural views and rights, then that would imply that they were to, among other actions, bring the Batarian Hegemony into line with Council laws regarding slavery. This would do untold damage to both economies, as the Batarians would lose millions of unpaid workers, and be forced to find a way to raise the billions of credits to pay for employees which they have not needed for millennia. The Council, on the other hand, would find itself faced with the prospect of transporting millions of their citizens. Once those citizens were, somehow, transported, the medical, food supply, clothing, housing, and other essential industries would be pushed to and beyond their capacity. Then, once all of those citizens were cared for, the Council and Associate races would find a massive influx of primarily unskilled laborers, raising unemployment to hitherto unimagined levels.This is just one of many examples, of course, but it is the most prominent practice which falls under the category of cultural exemption."
Erasnion looked as if he could have killed the man, Dimort's mouth was slightly open, and Tevos, though she did not look it, burned with a hatred more intense than she could remember feeling in decades. This man, a charlatan sorcerer, had just trapped the Council in a web of contradictions, and, in doing so, taken control of the discussions. More to the point, this primitive, inexperienced, child had made a mockery of her and her Citadel Council, the guiding force of the galaxy.
"Of course, as you said, the laws as currently written do not apply to most Lovecraftian methods. Were we to agree to them unmodified, the situation would be wholly different. Humanity would pursue this dangerous field at our own risk, and determinedly guard the secrets of the procedures, while our own culture and laws would ensure that no unwilling participants would be harmed. And, of course" Carr said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "any technique which involves genetic modification, Lovecraftian or conventional, would be banned under the existing laws."
"I suppose that, when it is presented in that light," Tevos found herself saying, "it would be more than reasonable for the Human race to agree to the unmodified Council laws."
"Excellent." Carr smiled once more, then stepped back. Tevos blinked, and wondered when he'd gotten so close to her, but mentally shook herself.
"Well, since you will be agreeing to the unmodified laws, the only other matter is that of your technology, and the Eldritch Society and University of Lovecraftian Science. By your own statements, these are far too dangerous to allow into the general public. The technology represents a danger to anybody who studies it, and the mental stability of your Sorcerers and Professors is questionable, at best. As such, they will be limited to human space only. Human technology, save specific, certified exceptions, will be limited to the Human systems, and members of either organization will require special permission to leave Human controlled space. Do you have any objections to this?"
"Absolutely not," Midjel said. "In fact, we had planned to enact our own laws to such an extent, and to request that you do the same. Extending the regulations to the Professors and Sorcerers was unexpected, but reasonable, and so long as permission is not unreasonably withheld, I have no objections at all."
Tevos tried not to glance at Carr, and mentally frowned when he did not object to such a severe limitation of his powerbase. What was he playing at? This should have been a crippling blow to his little conspiracy, so why was he grinning?
