The Silver Blade

(Cieran Kean)

Location: SBS Shokari, In orbit above Venture, Iera System, Shadow Sea


Captain Idia B'Anta sighed as another alert came across her omni-tool, flicking the file to a tablet resting on the communications room's main table. "I'm glad we got away from that rock when we did. Have you seen this Director? The situation has gone straight to the Deeps."

I hummed noncommittally but accepted the datapad when she passed it to me. Evidently the fool in command of the blockade, Hetlek ul... something or another, had sent a message to Aria to take personal credit for the death of Jorgal Salamul. His ramblings on his own greatness had been cut off quite literally by a very familiar-looking armored Vorcha. The hapless Batarian had been seized by other Vorcha and dragged out of view, with the panicked screams that bled over the background of the call suggested what was happening to the stupid keshin off-screen.

"With the sudden vacancy in the unified command structure here, marm, I am assuming command of the bally offensive here on-planet," Pyke droned in his bastardization of Pirate-English, while Idia's eyes widened as she watched the recording. "As per the Articles of Employment, section 3, subsection A, I will defer Class-S decisions to your further instructions, Lady Aria.

Rark, End transmission."

"Well, that's…" The ship's captain began, struggling to find the appropriate phrase.

"Unnerving?" Berra Olympie offered. "You're telling me... goddess but it was awful to listen to in person."

Idia pursed her lips glancing at the tablet as I set it aside. "If they are under contract with Aria... she's definitely throwing out a lot of harpoons right now, hoping that one strikes true."

"Nothing we didn't already guess." I sighed, "What's the haul from Rift? T'Goni?"

The third Asari present was lurking near the edge of the room, already having darkened her armor and having added the down-turned warp-sword that was our icon. She pursed her lips in thought before replying, "They made more progress on Rift that most of the other groups, at least in terms of kills. Three lesser Krogan war-leaders, and of those, Salamul is the largest name he's taken down. I didn't hear any reports of him managing territory however."

"That will be... interesting." Olympie murmured before frowning, hesitantly adding, "That doctor though... Lemrin, could he be STG?"

I rolled a shoulder in an Asari shrug, "Probably is. Any planet that close to the Union, the Salarians would want to keep a very close eye on who is going to end up on top. Bigger problem is that we've never even heard of those crazy fucks, and I'd really rather not run into them again if possible."

"Agreed." Olympie sighed, "Still, my father approved of everything that has happened so far. Your payment began at the first of this month, post-dated."

"I'm sure Ayle and Ven will be thrilled." I replied, making the omission of my own happiness clear. The maiden gave me a little smile, clearly having picked up on such, and I continued, "She say anything else?"

"She looks forward to... negotiating with you on access to the Prothean diagrams," She offered. "Your group is probably the ones with the most knowledge on Prothean technology, so I don't think it will take much work on your part."

"Collector tech," I clarified. "Something that the... Seneschal... was very careful to point out."

Lila T'Gona shuddered in the background, something I noticed rather quickly. "You know about him? What can you give me before he shows?"

She looked reluctant, but gave an Asari shrug. "Just stories, mostly, stuff you scare the maidens with, that kind of thing."

"Like what?" I pressed, though I was careful to keep my voice even. "We know exactly nothing ourselves, other than that he's an egocentric asshole even by our standards."

The former independent contractor snorted softly, "Well, Zymandis said that he… consumed the souls of the Faithful. I know it sounds like the usual Hanar religious shark-shit, but he is genuinely and truly terrified and horrified of this… Seneschal."

Before I could do more than frown and continue to question her, Idia's Omni-tool blinked, and she pulled up the image of the Batarian First Officer of the Shokari. "Yes?"

"We've got a signature coming out of FTL," he stated, his head inclining to the left in deference. "Just the one, as arranged."

"Set a wide-motion net sweep of the belt," Idia ordered. "I don't want any surprises or uninvited guests to this party. Ping Executive Commander T'Voth as well, inform her that we're about to get started."

His image bowed. "It will be done."

"Right... Let's just get this shit done," Idia muttered, as she powered down her Omni-tool. "I don't like the idea of those… things on my ship. Again."

I shrugged once more. "Our other option was his ship."

The grunt I received in reply communicated that she had fully understood why the transaction was taking place on the Shokari, but she didn't have to like it. The image of the ship flickered onto the holo-projector as it rotated around, engines fluttering as it shifted to the prescribed distance. That gave our sensors plenty of time to analyze the vessel, Idia frowning as she leaned in a bit.

"I know that ship," She murmured. "That's the Vengeance, Sirena Olm's cruiser. Drell pirate, a good one too... mostly stuck to raiding Hegemony colonies. Must have gotten religion."

"She from the Primacy originally?" I asked. It was a safe bet, most Drell were, and I wasn't surprised when Idia nodded. We fell silent once more as a shuttle icon appeared from the other vessel, its IFF reading as a heavy Hanar model, and quickly began moving in our direction. The quiet remained until the marker reached our own hangar bay, and Voya reported that our guests were disembarking.

"What did you think of First Land?" Idia asked as we waited for the Seneschal to arrive.

"Not much." My right shoulder might have twitched slightly. "Not a dangerous pirate group by any means, and for all the Seneschal's prattling on the difference between Protheans and Collectors... their tactics seemed the same."

She snorted. "And his little proclamation?"

I brought a hand up to stroke my beard thoughtfully, speaking slowly as I considered the matter. "Couple of years ago, it wouldn't have meant anything, maybe a chance that a few old gangsters could retire safely on an ocean world. But with the Traverse such a goddess-damned mess and the big three consolidating in the Terminus..."

"There's room to expand." T'Goni murmured, speaking up once again. "Especially since all the pirate groups that fled from Ganar's war are at each others throats, and Ul Tirravan is too busy arguing with the Hegemon over colonies to really expand."

"It's getting awfully crowded in the Traverse. Dangerous for smaller groups especially." The Captain exhaled, glancing at the image of the former pirate ship. "Evidently enough for even successful fish to find a shark to follow."

"Assuming," I replied, "That it is a shark at all."

The three Asari made noises or gestures of agreement before settling in to wait. It didn't take long, a few minutes perhaps, and then Voya opened the room's doors to reveal a veritable entourage behind her. Golden armor glinted as the Seneschal's blocky frame strode into the room as if he owned it, with a massive one-eyed Krogan hovering over his shoulder. Three more of the massive aliens were visible in the hallway, along with a pair of Turians, a pair of Hanar, and what were probably a pair of Drell. Though all of their armor was of different models and makes, the coloration was uniformly red with gold accents, with the symbol of the Illuminated Primacy in gold on their chest plates.

And naturally accompanying them in turn was a full marine squad, Volern's towering body in the lead as they ensured that only the single Krogan along with one of the Drell was allowed to enter the room proper. Voya quickly shifted around, ignoring the Seneschal entirely in favor of taking up a position behind me, while T'Goni visibly tensed from her place at the bulkhead.

For his part our guest retracted his helmet almost at once, his eyes shifting to look around the room as he stopped about a meter from the table. "Where is he?"

"Payment first." Olympie replied evenly, rising to her feet.

A scoff escaped the Neanderthal. "Child… you could have grabbed any Hanar in your expedition. I need to see that it is who I sent you after, before I hand over the technology of my cycle over to you."

His arm came up slowly as he spoke, some version of an Omni-Tool flaring to life, and the same image of the Prothean Particle Rifle hovering. The maiden's eyes flickered to me, and she gave a brief and reluctant nod. In response, I merely pressed a button on my own Omni-Tool, seeing the secondary entrance open to reveal a pair of Batarian marines carrying an iron bar between them. Shackled upside-down to the bar was the figure of Zymandis, flashing all sorts of colors that I was quite certain varied somewhere between desperation and indignation. All of his tentacles were secured to the bar, lashed together with anti-biotic restraints. I gave a nod, and one of the Batarians lifted the circular translator, re-attaching it to the Hanar's body.

"This one defies you, Demon!" a high-pitched voice wailed through the device, "The Enkindlers return, instruments of the Ancient Ones' will, and the Beloved will follow in their footsteps, reborn in glorious…"

I made another gesture, and the device was removed, leaving the Hanar mute, except for its own luminescent language that only Drell and other Hanar seemed to understand.

"Satisfied?" I asked, resisting the urge to rub at my face. The sooner this pointless shit was done with the sooner I could return to Nos Astra and a long overdue vacation, and hearing a Hanar babble on about its religion wasn't improving my mood.

The Herald made a gesture of his own, and the file came up again, revealing the 3D image of the weapon, and suddenly, an orange orb floated from his wrist to the computer terminal beside us. Dozens of schematics and what appeared to be technical manuals appeared, all representing the various parts and assemblage of the rifle. "The blueprints: payment for a task well done, as promised."

Olympie looked over at me, and I sighed and turned to give it a cursory glance, my technical eye going over what parts of the document I could understand. Of course, the entire document was written in what I assumed was Prothean script, but then again, a translation of the text hadn't been in the agreement. I supposed Jona would have people that could work up a translation matrix, or at least make a rough approximation of one.

That or just pay off Aethyta to have Shepard or T'Soni translate the bloody thing

I gave Berra a nod of confirmation, and she resumed her seat, lifting a hand to the two Batarians. They in turn handed both ends of the restraining rod to the Krogan and Drell guards. The latter reached out a hand for the translator, which was handed over without ceremony. The alien then made a gesture of deep obeisance to the Herald, presenting the translator as if it was some kind of sacred object.

Athame's azure, maybe it was, in their weird religion.

Their lord and savior walked over to the still-bound Hanar, and very slowly set the translator back in place. The second it made contact with the Hanar's skin, more high-pitched whining began.

"You will not take this one's soul, made holy by the Ancient Gods…"

There was a flash of more green biotics, and the Hanar was suddenly floating in front of the Herald, the guards releasing the bar and taking quick steps back. The green biotics shimmered around the jellyfish's body, cutting off any further words.

Now I actually did rub my forehead in exasperation. If he was going to execute the stupid thing after all the least he could have done was waited until he was on his own goddess-damned ship. With our luck, he was probably going to make it a long, drawn out affair that was going to leave pieces of jellyfish splattered all over the room...

Fuck. I should have charged Sederis double for this crap.

Even as my mental bitching continued, the Herald's touch and tone became almost gentle, the other hand rising to creepily caress the former Admiral. Dreadlocks shifted as his head shook, his voice lowering to something soft, clearly intending to be soothing. "The Dark Ones have touched your mind, Regards-the-Enkindlers-Work-In-Despair. Believe me, I am not your enemy..."

Then his eyes turned bright white, and two spikes extended from the wrist that held the Hanar fast, plunging deep into the alien's gelatinous body.

"I am thy salvation!" The words were barely audible over the high-pitched scream emanating from the translator, and I instantly regretted not having my helmet in place.

"Zymandis!" Came an inhuman snarl from the golden armored figure, breaking the shriek apart "I. See. You."

As if responding to his words, the Hanar shifted and changed through a dozen colors, and then, with a sudden flick of the wrist, the jellyfish slid off the spike nearly skewering it, falling into a heap on the floor, the god-awful screaming finally coming to a stop. I just kind of... stared as I tried to understand what the fuck this shit was about, everyone else seemingly in confused agreement.

"Rise," the Seneschal ordered callously.

It seemed to take it a tremendous amount of effort, but Zymandis managed to gather his tentacles beneath him. His body shook as he rose, as if he could no longer control the technology that allowed him to float.

"This one… lives to serve…the Exalted Herald… of the Enkindler's Return," The Hanar almost... panted, the former passionate and high-pitched whine now a low, almost monotone drone. It clicked in my head around then what we had just witnessed, and from the shift behind me, a three-fingered hand falling to my shoulder to squeeze the armor to indicate her fury, so did Voya.

"Return to the Vengeance," Ko'le ordered, evidently oblivious to everything else, typing on his Omni-Tool. "Contact those that remain of the Expectant, inform them of your enlightenment, and implore them to reunite with the Illuminated Primacy. The Word of the Enkindlers must be honored."

The biotic restraints on the Hanar deactivated and the bar clattered to the floor in response, body bobbing weakly in something like a bow. "So mote it be."

He turned and began to float out of the room, evidently content to now serve the thing behind him. That lasted until I lifted my right hand, fingers flicking in a wordless order, and then the harsh crack of a Viper deafened everyone except for the luckless Admiral. The round took the Hanar center mass just as it reached the doorway, its internal matter becoming an external coating over the Krogan guard who had been lingering nearby.

Said guards started to bring their weapons up, then seemed to hesitate and turn as armored footsteps reminded him that there was a large number of marines standing directly behind them in the hallway. Their rifles snapped up even as the Primacy's soldiers did the same, everyone staring at everyone else as they waited for some kind of sign.

"That..." I spoke into the absolute silence that followed, the Seneschal's entire body quivering with anger that he seemed unable to express verbally. "Was intolerable. I would presume that you have some kind of argument for why I shouldn't simply throw you out the nearest airlock?"

When the Herald answered, his voice was terse monosyllabic. "I do."

Then there was flash of green, and then in the very next second, I felt the nauseating disorientation of being flash-stepped. I was being held above the ground, near the back of the room, and Ko'le's arm was glowing green with warpfire as it clutched my throat, his second rearing back to slam into my chest. "Because you are a dead man."

Then there was crack of a nullifier, and the hand that would have burned straight through my body became a blow that merely sent me flying across the room. Armor cracked audibly and something in my chest felt compressed, the sensation not at all helped by the abrupt end to my flight. I hit the far wall, hard, feeling all the air leave my lungs in a whoosh and feeling a burning sensation creep across my chest.

Voya had followed her grenade with a snap-fire shot to the back of the Herald's head, sparking across where his helmet had folded from his face. While that saved his life, the force of the shot still sent him to his hands and knees. Focusing on recovering my wits, I was only vaguely aware of a Krogan roaring and hearing Volern's voice shouting above the chaos that the Communications Center and it surrounding area had become. The Seneschal, on the other hand, merely looked up, his helmet finishing the process of re-folding, leaving me starting at a pair of glowing green eyes.

"Fine." The snarl boomed from the speakers, deepening to something nearly Krogan. "Kill them! All of them!"

And then suddenly, he was fading from view, and Voya's next shot hit only empty space where he had been only seconds before. She swore viciously and then also vanished behind a tactical cloak, throwing her rifle aside as she did.

Athame's fucking complicated azure!

I willed myself to roll to my side, coming up with pistol drawn as half of the asshole's bodyguards surged into the room, the rest evidently quite busy dealing with the marines outside. One of them didn't last long, Idia flash-stepping forwards to grab a red armored Drell, twisting him around to act as a meat shield when a Krogan tried to blast her.

"Boarding protocol blue!" She snarled, keeping her flailing hostage in place as she backed away, ignoring his screams as his own ally tried to shoot his way through him to get to her.

In response, there was a deep thrum from somewhere below us, my ears popping as an emplaced biotic nullifier went active. A Drell promptly came stumbling out of a flash-step, slamming into the table at unseemly velocity. He hit it, hard, his pelvis or his equivalent audibly shattering as he screamed, a long vibroblade tumbling from his hands as he fell back. I shut him up with a heavy round through the forehead, not trusting that he wouldn't try and blow himself up via grenades.

There was a sudden curse, and Voya rippled back into view, alongside the figure of the Herald. Voya had her knives drawn now, and she was crouched low, bringing both of her blades upwards into the Neanderthal's gut... who responded by merely stepping forward, closing the distance between them. With a ringing clang, both daggers met the golden adaptive body-armor and simply slid aside. Voya didn't have time to be surprised before a fist made contact with her helmet, driving her sideways. She staggered, tried to get her weapons back up, then took a second blow that might have snapped her neck had he had his biotics.

As it was it merely concussed her, sending her sprawling backwards, and leaving her opponent open for me to snap off two rounds into the center of his chest. Whatever the fuck his armor was made of held, but the deep grunts of pain, the idiot evidently still had his mic going, told me that he'd still felt the impacts either way. His response was to flicker out of sight again, making me curse as I flicked my eyes left to right.

Palming a grenade, and wincing a bit in pain as I brought my arm back, I threw it side-arm towards the least occupied area of the melee. The guess proved to be entirely on target as the explosion sent a humanoid figure reeling into a wall, the Seneschal falling to a knee and shaking his head violently. I was steadying my pistol to see how many rounds it would take to break through his helmet when I was struck hard from behind.

"Look out!" Lila T'oni snapped, her pistol barking as I dodged out of her way. The Drell that had been going for my throat with a wave-blade got her in the arm instead, the mercenary yowling as she collapsed to a knee, staring at the thing stuck through her bicep.

"Director!" Idia's shout was barely audible as I grabbed T'Goni, shoving her behind a console to try and keep her out of the brawl. "We've got company!" Eight... no twel... Athame's ass, fifteen signatures coming out FTL!"

I cursed in turn, taking a critical heartbeat to glance around the room. Nearly all of the Seneschal's guards were down, or seemed to be in the process of dying, but it was clear that they'd killed quite a few of my marines in turn. More annoying was the sight of the golden asshole managing to get back to his feet in the corner, his one-eyed Krogan buying him time with his life.

"Signal Joa!" I snapped out, bringing my pistol around once more. "Tell her to-"

"My turn!" The roar interrupted me, the Herald matching his words by bringing up some kind of spinning, disc-shaped omni-shield on his left wrist. It caught the round I snap-fired on reflex, and he was flinging a grenade of his own before I could try for a second.

"Grenade!" Someone, Olympie I thought, shouted the warning as it sailed towards the entrance to the room, everyone scattering back as best they could. Unfortunately for my people, several had been in the process of trying to enter when it reached the hatchway, and there wasn't time to react before there was a cackle of energy, and a green-tinged singularity flared to life, evidently unaffected by the nullifier that was firmly keeping biotics suppressed.

Volern and several others were hauled off their feet before they could activate the mag-strips in their boots, floating helplessly as other marines leaned or scrambled back. The thing flickered once, twice, and then exploded in emerald fire, drawing screams from everyone who'd been too close.

I didn't have time to process it fully, or to get any idea as to how many of my people had just gone down, because the Seneschal had activated a flash-forged blade to go with his shield, a long spike style weapon extending from his wrist as he charged me. Firing a round into his shield on reflex, I activated my left war-gauntlet, and then my right as I dropped my pistol on a snap-decision; blunt impact trauma might get through the armor that had held off our gunfire.

He came in with a fury, but it was a wild animal's aggression, swinging his blade savagely rather than using its length and thrusting ability to his advantage. I parried one blow, then a second, stepping into his guard and snapping my right hand towards his face. His shield rose in reply, bringing into contact with all three of the explosive omni-panels on the fist.

It shattered at the blow, a guttural oath accompanying as he staggered back, throwing a third wild blow at my unprotected head. I threw myself right, keeping my skull in one piece, but losing the left braid in my hair. Rather than stop moving, I let my momentum carry me down into a roll, buying space, then snapped my right arm forwards, firing off a submission net even as my now much-shorter hair came down around my face. Blinded momentarily, I heard the unmistakable snap-crack of the net and another curse, letting me know that I had found my target.

Ignoring him for a moment, I turned to try and reach for my helmet, now just a few steps away. I had to confess: Of all the things I had anticipated and planned for today, the Herald being stupid enough to start a brawl on my own ship had not been one of them. Even if he somehow managed to kill me and the others here, there was a couple of hundred crew members who would all-too happy to mob him or simply eject him into space.

My thoughts were just starting to gather, noting that the remainder of the fighting was clearly winding down, when something hit me low and on the side, ceramic plates cracking as I grunted and rolled with the momentum of the blow. Coming back up to one knee, I saw the Herald, submission net trapping his left arm around his upper body, bathed in electrical currents, still coming on.

"Athame's fucking-" I had seen goddess-damned Krogan reduced to wrecks under the influence of a submission net, and even Justicars were generally trapped by the things even if they didn't show the agony. He'd managed to avoid being entirely wrapped up, which had probably helped, but fucking still.

"You think this is pain!?" The Herald, his accent thickening into a nearly unintelligible rumble. Then, with a sweep of an arm, he ripped the bloody net from his arm and head by main strength and simply threw it at me.

Cursing, I flicked a hand in a gesture to de-activate it the heartbeat before it struck me, though the thick coils were still more than a little inconveniencing as I had to waste a few breaths to get the thing off me.

The second it cleared my sight I saw a gleaming orange blade coming at my head, and was only barely able to get my raised arm in place to deflect the impact. My opponent growled and kept his legs moving, lowering his shoulders and his center of gravity, clearly intending to simply drive me back by main force to find an opening. Hissing in pain as my ribs continued to inform me of their damage, I met his charge directly, using my left arm to keep his blade away while my right snapped out, the hand wrapping around the back of his neck.

He snarled in reply and drove two quick punches to my chest, trying to get me loose, and when I dug my heels in and accept the agony, tried to straighten and jerk himself back to give himself room to use his blade properly.

It was the mistake I'd been waiting for.

Lowering my torso even as he rose his, I drove my shoulder into his chest, snapped my left hand under his arm to grab his shoulder, stepped in, and then twisted viciously as my hips. The Seneschal let out a surprised gasp as he abruptly became airborne, flying up and over my shoulder as I slammed him into the decking, my own weight landing perpendicular to his chest as I did.

Not about to let the stupid keshin recover, I worked my right hand free and punched him as hard as I could in the head, detonating a line of tech plates across my gauntlet as I did. The second blow left a significant dent in the metalwork, and the third broke something from the cracking noise on impact, but didn't manage to shatter the bloody thing entirely.

Cursing and gasping, and now stuck waiting for the gauntlet to recharge, I got him by the throat and tried to hold on. There was a rattle from the Herald's throat that let me know that even his armor was not protecting him from me cutting off his air-flow, but then his free hand came up in a jab, striking my unguarded and already-damaged ribs. Gritting my teeth, I squeezed even harder, but my body was nearing its evident limits.

His fourth strike broke my hold, and he followed it with a punch at my head. It wasn't nearly as hard as it could have been, the angle and his own accumulated damage working in my favor, but it was enough to make me let go and roll away to avoid his attempt to grab my hair.

My effort to use my roll to get up into a crouch wasn't my most graceful display of agility, and I could sub-vocalize a few bitchy words to the goddess when he heaved himself up with far less trouble.

I felt a little better when he went to take a step towards me and staggered a bit to one side, but only a little.

Such feelings died entirely when a concussive round slammed into my left leg, sending me right back down to the bloody floor, a second such shot sending the Seneschal down as well.

"Enough!" A rasping shout made me blink and shake my head, turning in surprise to see another Drell, a female in a formal red and gold ensemble, de-cloak near Idia. She had a pistol in each hand, one for both her probable boss and for me. "This was supposed to be an exchange, not a battle!"

Said boss snarled through his cracked helm, "Captain Olm, you will-"

"With all due respect, Lord Herald." She cut him off, her voice lowering to something furiously earnest. "Please. Shut. Up."

There was a wheezing cackle from Idia at that, her mirthless laugh the only sound apart from gasping in the blood-spattered room. "Sirena."

"Idia." The Drell replied. "Long time."

"Decade." My Captain shook her head, something almost nostalgic in her voice. "Shooting your own employer? Good to see you still have a quad."

"You seem to have lost yours." Came the quick retort. "Or you'd have stopped yours from starting this."

Something angry came into the tattooed woman's eyes, but she held herself back from bringing her weapon up, or doing more than sharpening her voice. "My corporation doesn't have many rules, but we've got even fewer punishments. Your boss broke one."

The Drell regarded her flatly, then exhaled through her nose and nodded slightly. "I would like for this to be resolved peacefully, without the fleets now present blasting each other into scrap."

Idia pursed her lips, then glanced at me. "I... believe we would find that preferable as well. Director?"

I nodded, tried to speak, then ending up just coughing. For his part, Ko'le retracted his helmet, the motion not entirely smooth anymore, revealing a... incredibly complicated expression. It definitely seemed as if he was at war with himself, his eyes flicking about as his lips tightened and then relaxed; it wasn't until he glanced at the, miraculous still working, sensor display on the main table that he nodded as well.

No one quite relaxed at that, but the tension did ratchet down a few tiny degrees. Medics and additional marines were already swarming into the area, but to my surprise it was Berra Olympie who reached me first. The well-dressed maiden fell to a knee beside me, her omni-tool running scans over my body. "I think you have a rib or two broken, but most are still together... the goddess alone knows how."

"Sit-rep." I rasped back at her, accepting the hand she offered when I tried to rise.

"He had a virus in the file he sent us." She reported, all but pressing her body against mine to make her muttered words inaudible to the others. "It was isolated locally, and the communications systems did a hard reset, but I think the data is gone."

"Dammit..." Grimacing, I glanced at the sensor display, and was unsurprised to see a mess of a stand-off. A good fifty or so Primacy vessels, including a pair of dreadnoughts, were hovering just beyond the Vengeance. Arrayed against them was our entire fleet, nearly sixty ships, but ours trended towards being far lighter in design even before the Hanar's probable technological superiority was included.

We couldn't beat them straight up, but then we didn't have to. Their Herald was on one of our ships, and we had more than enough vessels to make any win on their side pyrrhic... assuming Joa didn't just have us rabbit to FTL so that we could flee to the safety of the Terminus.

"And you called me paranoid." I managed to sound somewhat normal when Idia shifted over to stand beside me, having just supervised a pair of medics carefully helping Voya up and guiding her out of the room. "Voya?"

"Concussion but otherwise fine." She reported. "Others weren't that lucky. Volern and seven of his squad are dead, we've got another dozen wounded, but all of that idiot's guards are dead... except for that giant Krogan, he's out but still breathing. Rest of the marines are forming a perimeter around the room, crew is already shifting."

Meaning that they were preparing to seal and vent this entire area if it came down to that. I nodded in approval and shifted a little, trying not to show that I was leaning on the Eclipse maiden as I turned to face our 'guest' as his own support spoke to him in quiet, urgent tones. He didn't seem thrilled at what she was saying, but a gesture at the display made him grimace and twitch his head in another silent nod.

"So here's the situation," I started, my weakened voice still carrying easily in the quiet room. "I should put a bullet in your skull for the goddess-damned stupidity that you just offered."

There wasn't an ounce of fear in the gaze that he returned, pale lips pulling back in a sneer. "Even assuming you could, primitive; my fleet would take yours apart like tissue paper."

"First? Doubtful," I stated. "Second, that wouldn't do you much good."

The Herald shrugged. "As long as you were dead next to me, I'd count it worth it right now."

"Athame's fucking..." I started to curse, then grit my teeth against a wave of pain from my right side, "Anyone else I would have thought that a pathetic bluff… but you really are that much of a moron, aren't you?"

"I've already died many times over," The herald stated evenly, his eyes flicking around at how many guns were pointed at him in that moment. "Maybe, just maybe, the combined strength of every soldier on this… vessel… could kill me again. But rest assured, you would not survive such an attempt."

There was a stir of motion around us as the threat hung in the air, and I was giving serious consideration to having someone shoot him anyway when his Drell subordinate stepped directly in between he and I.

"Or," Sirena Olm offered, "We could all go our separate ways and save the war for our actual enemy: the Reapers. Everyone here knows they're coming, that we'll need every gun, every ship. We can hardly afford to waste anyone in pointless dick-measuring."

A muscle in my cheek twitched, and the rasp in my voice became something frigid. "I will not tolerate indoctrination, of any kind, on my ship."

"It is intolerable to purge Reaper indoctrination from the minds of the weak in this cycle, then?" The Herald's voice was terse and delivered syllable by syllable. "Do you also slit the throats of your children when they fall ill?"

I just kind of stared at him, somehow astonished at the continued arrogance on display. Athame's ass, he was making Nynsi seem humble.

"His mind was taken by the Reapers," the Seneschal continued, "Somewhere in his past, he was exposed to one of their monoliths. My nanite induction had succeeded in PURGING that code, making him the master of his own self again... but apparently, that is unacceptable to your primitive minds."

For a long few moments I could only keep starting, then I gave him the only response I could: I laughed at him.

It was wheezy, quiet, and probably didn't sound all that sane, but I thought it got the message across. "You... you actually expect me to... Athame's azure. You do, don't you? You actually think that I'll believe that."

"What you believe is irrelevant." He informed me, a vicious kind of anger clear in his stance. The laughter was probably getting to him, or to whichever other psychopath lived in his head. "As I told you before."

"You did." I allowed, still grinning a little, "Take your delusions, your wounded, and yourself off this ship."

The Herald drew himself up and took a step forwards only to bump into Olm who hadn't yet moved. He glanced down at her with a thunderous expression, but then there was a flicker in his eyes, and he relaxed visibly. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he nodded once when she turned to look back at him. She moved to where his last bodyguard was being heaved onto a stretcher by a pair of Batarians, murmuring to them as they got moving.

He himself moved to follow, then slowed and stopped near the door. "Miss Berra Olympie. You may explain to your father Director Kean's actions are the reason for the file's destruction."

The maiden drew her shoulders back, and for a moment I saw her father in her indignant expression. "That is unacceptable. Director Kean delivered the Hanar into your care. By the words of our agreement, the task was fulfilled."

"Did I or did I not transfer the title to your computer databanks?"

"To Blade computers." She retaliated coldly. "Not Eclipse machines."

"I delivered them to you," He growled in reply, "If you had wished them in a separate location you should have informed me of such things. As it was, Director Kean saw fit to terminate the Hanar that was in my custody, and I therefore in turn saw fit to delete the original file that was his... And now I must go end a civil war, a task made all the more difficult by his own incompetence."

I snorted but didn't offer anything further, there wasn't any point. Olympie showed her youth then, floundering for a moment before lamely offering, " "My father will not be pleased."

"Direct her towards the human idiot, or tell her to come to me personally with her complaint," snarled the Herald. "And her head can adorn a spike next to the Black Queen's."

She started, as if she had been struck, blinking rapidly. "What? What does that even... are you serious?"

"I leave it to your primitive minds to unravel. I cannot hold the hands of everyone in this galaxy. Kean?" I met his gaze evenly, boredly, my anger cooling as my mind chased logic through mental currents. "You killed my men, I killed yours. Prothean justice would call the scales balanced."

"I am not a Prothean," I retorted flatly.

The grin that met my words was mirthless. "When it comes down to it… neither am I."

Then the golden figure spun on a heel and followed his two surviving comrades out of the room. Marines turned to follow, escorting them back to the hangar, while a few others began to collect the dead. For my part I simply limped to an intact chair and fell into it, rubbing at my chin and waiting for this tides-be-damned shit to be over.

A final moment of tension came as the shuttle neared one of the Hanar dreadnoughts, entering it as our fleet began to reform for its jump out system. But rather than start a suicidal battle, the Primacy fleet simply turned as well, one by one launching themselves into FTL.

"Well, that was about as fucked-up as I had hoped for," Idia exhaled in relief as the last one blinked away. "Guess we have a new enemy to add to the ledger."

"My father will be…" Berra sighed as she settled herself into her own chair, her gown splattered with blood. "She's going to be furious over this one. Athame's azure, Kean, did you really have to have her shoot him?"

"Yes." I replied simply.

She blinked at me. "Why?"

I regarded her, then shook my head, reaching up to start gathering my loose hair into a pony-tail. Behind me, I heard Idia sigh before she explained, "Corporate law girl. Slavery in our territory, of any kind, is not tolerated, and the punishment is death if caught."

Her brows furrowed as she puzzled over that, then she seemed to wince, "Oh... the indoctrination thing that he did."

"Yes." The Captain replied. "Whatever that idiot did, or thought he was doing, he was taking away that poor fucker's free will. Killing him was mercy."

"I suppose." She allowed, "But we could have still just reported the ability to my father and had her dispatch a Night Whisperer or a freelance agent, we didn't have to engage."

"Yes." I said once more, "I did. Drop it."

Olympie winced, bit her lip, then reluctantly seemed to nod. I closed my eyes tiredly, not really able to blame her for being edgy. Explaining this to Jona wasn't going to be fun for anyone involved... neither would explaining to Voya that she couldn't hunt the son of a bitch down. Not that he didn't deserve her killing him in a horrendously painful and creative way, but the Drell pirate, Olm, had had a point.

Killing the dedicated, war-focused leader of a nation-state, even the Hanar one, before the Reapers or Leviathans made their move wasn't a winning move. He would serve his purpose during the war, that much seemed obvious. And then, if what he had implied was true, if some of the declarations he had made were in fact his long-term intentions... he would be rubbing up against Aria.

If he thought he could provoke her and get away with it... she would drink wine from his skull, assuming that Jona didn't fill it with rum first. There wouldn't be much point to me getting involved, they'd be more than capable of killing him without any help from me.

Though if I asked politely enough, they'd probably let me watch.

"Idia, signal Joa to get the fleet out of here. Core fleet is to return to Nagato," I opened an eye in time to see her nod her head. "We'll head for Illium by way of Omega. I've had enough of goddess-damned jellyfish and delusional Neanderthals to last me for a few centuries."


Author's Note: So... That went well.

Reviewer Response: BJ Hanssen - Ko'le has also been awakened VERY late in the cycle (as evidenced by the wide-spread appearance of the Collectors and Sovereign. In his mind, he is running out of time, and Beast is itching for a fight.