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Old one Griffin: Thank you! It seems I did my job with Roussel since the overwhelming consensus from readers is that she needs to be taken down a notch.
Drygen: Thanks, I was hoping I could keep people interested even with not action.
RabidArmenian: "Ah yes, Reapers", I always loved that line and meme.
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Interested Guest: Thank you! I appreciate your review!
review: Maybe, maybe not, you'll have to wait and see.
Cirg: Thank you, I hope you enjoy the coming chapter.
Author's Note: I apologize that you all had to wait a month for this. Another short chapter with a bunch of exposition and setting up. But the good news is that in the next chapter we'll get into some real meat. I can't promise there will be a lot of action but the story will definitely move forward. Those of you who wanted more Revan in the story, the end of this chapter is for you.
Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith
Chapter 6 - Conspiracy & Politics
2 Hours Ago
Inside a well lit circular room, on a too comfortable smart foam chair covered in high quality black leather, Councilor David Anderson sat with the three fellow representatives of the major powers in the galaxy. The four of them sat equal distance around a luxurious round silver table with a projector in the middle.
Though the average Citadel citizen believed all Council meetings were held at the top of their tower, the truth was that the tower was reserved only for work that required the public be involved. The majority of Council meetings were held in a discreet room, the location of which few were privy to.
It was here that some of the most important political decisions were discussed and debated. The kind of decisions that could affect the state of the entire known galaxy.
"All those in favor of moving the Hanar urinals into the public restrooms?" Councilor Tevos raised her hand.
Anderson pinched his nose and stifled a sigh. If he ever heard about Hanar urinals again in the next thousand years, it'd be too soon. Reluctantly he raised his hand. He was followed by Sparatus and Valern, who were equally eager to move to a different subject.
"And with that pleasant topic out of the way, we may move on to more pressing matters."
"I still can't believe that made it to our table at all," huffed Anderson.
"What is the human saying? 'Where there is a will, there is a way'? The will of some sentients on seemingly insignificant subjects never fails to astound me," said Valern.
Sparatus shook his head in dismay. "All because of one Asari with a disgusting fetish."
"Actually, Urophillia is quite common in-"
"Gentlemen, if you're quite finished complaining there are other subject matters that require our attention," said Tevos.
Anderson was thankful. Whatever strange trivia Valern was about to spout, he wasn't in the mood to deal with. Tevos tapped on the haptic keypad in front of her and the projector in the middle of the table produced an orange hologram of their next subject matter: Aria T'Loak.
"Valern, I believe this one is yours." Tevos swiped the keyboard to her left and it circled the table till it came to a stop in front of the Salarian councilor.
"Thank you Tevos. As you all know, STG has been keeping a closer watch on the Terminus systems and has as of late, been reporting increased activity. Specifically, agents report Aria T'loak mobilizing the Terminus warlords, having their pirate fleets move closer to the borders."
Anderson didn't know much about the 'Queen of Omega' other than the usual gossip. But he had a hard time believing that a single Asari could have that much influence over the hardened warlords of the Terminus.
"She can just tell them to do that?" he asked.
"Aria's influence is considerable," answered Tevos. "She is not simply the criminal overlord of Omega. She is also the unofficial head of state for the entirety of the Terminus system. At her word, The Four would unleash their fleets for war. Though they would do so out of fear of Aria, not loyalty."
"Which of The Four has she moved?" asked Sparatus.
"Thog Kay'tor."
The Turian Councilor let out a low growl of resentment, Anderson couldn't blame him. Though new to political circles, he had heard plenty of the infamous Thog Kay'tor during his time in the Navy. Kay'tor was a Krogan Terminus warlord with a considerable fleet at his disposal.
During the Rebellions, he had made a name for himself as Void Master of the Krogan fleet. Many of the space battles won by the Krogan against the Turians could be attributed to his strategies. At the end of the Rebellions, Kay'tor had fled to the Terminus and built himself back up raiding Citadel transports and patrols.
"Beyond moving them, has Aria ordered Kay'tor to do anything else with his fleet?" asked Tevos.
"No. But some agents have been reporting arms purchases and recruitment drives. Analysts believe that Kay'tor is building his forces, preparing for...something."
"It could just be a show of force," suggested Anderson, "during a period of time in humanity's history known as The Cold War, nations built up stock piles of nuclear weapons. Never with the intent of using them on one another, but as a warning. They even detonated a few. Called them tests, but really they were subtle threats."
"I agree with Councilor Anderson. Though a depraved dictator, Aria did not get to where she is by being stupid. Neither side would survive if war were to break out. She knows better than to try anything."
Anderson saw Tevos, almost imperceptibly, roll her eyes. Clearly the Asari Councilor had a different opinion on the matter, but chose not share it.
"Still, we cannot simply ignore the presence of a foreign fleet on our borders," pointed out Valern.
"Agreed," said Sparatus, "I motion to increase patrols along the Terminus border. If Aria wishes to play the game of who has the bigger gun, then we should show strength and indulge her."
"I second this motion." Valern raised his hand. Tevos and Anderson raised their hands almost at the same time.
"The Destiny Ascension and its battle group have just recently finished their victory cruise. Instead of returning to the Citadel, perhaps we should have Matriarch Lidanya redirect to the Citadel."
"Is that wise? Sending the Citadel's most powerful ship away from the Citadel?" asked Anderson.
"The Unassailable can continue maintaining the Citadel's security while the Destiny Ascension is away," said Sparatus, referring to the massive Turian dreadnought that had taken the Ascension's place as the Citadel flagship while it had undergone a year of repairs for damages suffered fighting the Geth and Sovereign.
"Agreed. Very well then, let us move on. Councilor Anderson, I believe you have the next item on the itinerary."
Anderson was almost caught by surprise. Three hours of debating other people's problems tended to make one forget about their own. Valern slid the haptic controls to Anderson. He activated his Omni-tool and uploaded the files necessary for his presentation.
He cleared his throat, then began. "Councilors, as you no doubt remember, about three months ago Commander Shepard returned to us."
As expected, Sparatus let out a small groan. Valern and Tevos however perked up attentively in their seats.
"He came to us, asking for aid in stopping the abduction of human colonists on the fringe of Alliance territory. This Council refused aid and instead simply returned to him his Spectre title."
"We were all there Anderson," Sparatus interrupted. "Please skip to whatever ridiculous request the Commander is making now."
"No request Sparatus. I'm simply here to inform you that the Commander has successfully completed his mission. The threat to the colonies has been eliminated." He activated his Omni. "I'm sending you all Commander Shepard's report on his mission. It's got all the necessary details, along with plenty of footage taken from his helmet cam."
The other Councilors quickly opened the files and began skimming them.
"I'll give you all a short summary. The Collectors were the ones responsible for the abduction. Commander Shepard led a team through the Omega-4 Relay and destroyed the center of their operations, a massive space station."
"Fascinating," commented Valern. "Travel through the Omega-4 Relay has always met with failure in the past, of the lethal kind. How was Shepard able to...ah, an IFF tag, advanced safety protocols, a black hole. Fascinating, simply fascinating." His eyes darted back and forth, easily combing through the report with the hyper speed typical of his species. "A shame that the base was destroyed, it could have given us a great deal of insight."
Anderson scowled. "That station was a monument to atrocities against my species! I'm sorry avenging the death of millions of humans got in the way of your 'insight' Councilor."
Tevos, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in. "Councilor Anderson, no one is trivializing the death of your people. We all feel regret over their loss, Goddess light their way."
I'm sure you do. Anderson had to restrain himself from vocalizing his skepticism.
"Of course. I meant no disrespect Councilor Anderson," said Valern. "I suppose I allowed my love of the sciences to become a bit detached from the situation."
Anderson simply crossed his arms and nodded.
"At least this time he didn't let them scurry off to Spirits-know-where," Sparatus commented gruffly. Anderson allowed him to have that one. Personally he hadn't been particularly on board with Alan's decision to let the Rachnai Queen on Noveria go either.
"What were the colonists being used for?" asked Tevos.
"Apparently the Collectors were liquefying them."
"Liquefying them? What for?"
Anderson paused. This would be tricky. According to Alan, the colonists had been liquefied to provide life to a Human Reaper. But if he mentioned the 'R-word', the he'd immediately lose their attention. That, and he'd have to endure hearing Sparatus' skepticism.
"Shepard's report says that they were being used as some sort of power source for a machine the Collectors were building."
"Black Watch teams that have had encounters with the Collectors report technology more biological than mechanical," said Sparatus. "But why target Humans specifically?"
Because the Collectors work for the Reapers. And Shepard, a Human, killed a Reaper. And if you'd all just listen for five god damn minutes you'd see that the Reapers are real and-
Anderson shrugged. "I can't answer that one. Maybe Humans were just the first step and they were planning on experimenting with other species later."
"Hmmm. Then I suppose we should be grateful for the Commander's use of excessive force for once."
"Thank you for sharing this with us Anderson. We will review these files and meet with the Commander at a later-"
"There is something else I'd like to talk about, while we're all in the same room." Tevos gave him a look that made it clear she didn't appreciate being interrupted, but Anderson ignored it.
"While on his way back to the Citadel, Commander Shepard discovered a threat to the safety of Citadel space."
"Don't tell me...the Reapers," Sparatus said sardonically.
Anderson fixed the Turian Councilor with a cold glare. "No, Councilor Sparatus, it is not the Reapers. But you might wish that it had been."
Sparatus returned Anderson's glare, but said nothing more.
"Councilors. I regret to inform you that the security of the Krogan DMZ has been compromised."
Present Time
"Whoa, whoa, wait. You just went out and said it?" asked a wide eyed Shepard.
Anderson nodded. "I did."
"Well...what happened after that?"
"They were skeptical, obviously. Then I showed them the footage you took."
"How'd they take it?"
1.5 Hours Ago
Locked inside the sound proof walls of the meeting room, Councilor Sparatus took in the sight of the Krogan Anti-Air emplacement with as much calm as he could.
"THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! WE NEED TO MUSTER THE FLEETS! SEND IN AN OCCUPATION FORCE! STRIP THOSE BARBARIANS OF EVERY WEAPON THEY HAVE BEFORE ANOTHER REBELLION STARTS!"
Tevos meanwhile attempted to maintain her poise, but failed to stop herself from nervously wringing her hands.
Valern was already compiling a report to the STG.
Present Time
"...Well, it wasn't pretty. But I think we can safely say they're on our side."
Shepard smiled. "That's the best news I've had in a week."
"Speaking of good news," Anderson activated his Omni, "The SAI sent the files you requested."
"Finally, those guys are worse than customs agents."
After his meeting with Roussel, Alan had had no choice but to do as she had suggested and filed a request with the SAI for the information on CAT6. The return message acknowledging his request had been sent almost instantly and so Alan had gotten his hopes up that he would get what he wanted soon. But the SAI's definition of soon turned out to be a full seven days, filled with background checks and paper work reminding him that divulging classified intelligence to anyone outside the Alliance was treason and would result in "enforcement".
Alan was pretty sure "enforcement" meant mysteriously disappearing forever. He was also pretty sure that Roussel would be the one doing the "enforcement".
"Here it is," Anderson sent the files to Shepard after making a copy of the files for himself, "all the data from the CAT6 investigation."
Once his Omni received the files, Shepard immediately began skimming through them. Most of the files had been filled out by Roussel and to the agent's credit, each one provided a wealth of information Shepard would have never gotten otherwise. There was too much to sift through by himself, but his quick look over made Shepard believe that it had almost been worth the wait.
"I think I'll head back to the Normandy and look this over with my crew. But before I go, when can I expect to meet with the Council?"
"Tomorrow. They're eager to get your story but right now they have the unpleasant task of informing their respective governments that the Krogan might be rebelling again. I'll have to do the same with the Senate."
"Ech, can't say I envy you."
"And I can't say that I'm jealous of reading all those reports."
Shepard smiled. "I've got a few people on my crew that might make that a bit easier."
Citadel Docks
After making a quick stop at Huerta Memorial Hospital to check on everyone, Shepard caught a shuttle back to the Normandy. As he approached the boarding airlock something caught his eye. He paused midway to the airlock and leaned over the walkway railing to get a better look at it.
On the Normandy's bow, two angry black cuts marred its otherwise pristine armor. It looked as though someone had tried to cut the ship's proverbial throat. Shepard remembered that they had been put there by The Wrath's laser swords. What kind of melee weapon could leave a mark on Silaris armor?
As he stared at the scars on his ship, Shepard brought a hand up to his throat and rubbed it.
"Don't worry old girl. We'll make him pay."
SSV Normandy SR2
Shepard passed through the airlock's decontamination protocols and entered the bridge. As he entered he heard an unusually large amount of shouting coming front the cockpit.
"How!? We're a heavy frigate! He had swords!"
"To say that The Wrath used swords incorrect Jeff. In truth, I cannot be sure what his weapons are until I can obtain more conclusive scans."
"EDI, you're not listening to me. Us, ship. Him, swords. How is it that the current score is Us zero, Him one."
There was a pause.
"You are upset." EDI concluded.
"Some pycho space samurai Shredder cosplayer cut you up! You're damned right I'm upset!" In his rage the pilot slammed a fist on the arm rest of his chair. It turned out to be a mistake."AGH! Damn it. I think I cracked a finger bone."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Joker grumbled.
"I can tell when you are lying Jeff. You should report to medical."
"I said I'm fine. Now let's finish filling out this repair order."
Shepard decided to leave Joker and EDI continue without him. Joker evidently needed more time to cool off and Shepard needed to assemble the right people to help him look through this data. As he passed through the CIC, he came across Security Officer Howards speaking to Crewmen Matthews. The Security Officer had a sullen look on his face.
"It's not your fault Burt."
"Heh. You know, no matter how many times you tell me that it's not going to change how I feel."
"It's not your fault!" Matthews insisted, "that assassin took on Grunt, Jack, Zaeed, hell it took Samara to finally beat him. There's no shame in what happened."
Burt sighed. "I just can't help feeling so damned useless. Couldn't do hardly anything when the Collectors came. Couldn't do anything this time either. What kind of security officer can't even protect the crew?"
"No one here blames you for any of that."
"Yeah? Well they should."
Again, Shepard chose not to involve himself. He sympathized greatly with Burt. Feeling useless was of the worst things a soldier could feel, it was even worse for a commander. Memories of Elysium threatened to spring back up, but Shepard repressed them furiously.
He made a mental note to maybe talk to Burt later. Truth was with his team a strong dedicated ship security force wasn't usually warranted. But recent events had proven that to be a mistake that needed to be rectified.
But all that could wait. Right now, he had an XO to find.
Upon arriving at Miranda's door, Shepard found it locked. He pressed the red button on the intercom set up outside and waited the light tone that indicated a connection with the other side.
"Miranda, it's me. Do you have a moment to talk?"
There was a pause.
"One moment please," he heard her say. Shepard patiently waited for a few brief minutes before the holographic rune on the door switched from red to green and the door slid open, revealing Miranda standing in the door way.
"Commander," she saluted, "please come in."
Shepard returned her salute and did as she bade. Miranda took her usual spot in the chair behind her desk and Shepard took his usual spot in the chair on the other side.
"Please excuse the mess. I've not had time to clean up as of late."
Shepard took a moment to examine the 'mess', which consisted of a few scattered data pads and styluses. It was hardly a pigsty. But Miranda valued organization above all things. For her to just leave these items lying about with no clear purpose was a sign that something was off.
"Sorry I haven't been in the Normandy much lately. I imagine it's been a lot of work."
"It's fine Commander," she said a little too steadily.
"How have you been?" Shepard asked, hoping for some clues. Of course Miranda immediately caught on.
"If you are wondering as to what my mental and emotional state of being is, I can assure you that I am not compromised."
Shepard raised a brow to make known his skepticism. Miranda sighed and began drumming her fingers rapidly on her desk. He didn't want to push her, but he had to. He had to know where her head was at. People thought that Miranda had ice water running through her veins, but Shepard knew better than most that she was just as human as he was.
"Mr. Taylor was-"
"Mr. Taylor?" Miranda never called Jacob Mr. Taylor unless she was annoyed with him.
Miranda winced and Shepard could tell that she was silently berating herself.
"Jacob..." she started again, "...and I were close, that is true. It is also true that I felt the sting of his loss more acutely than I have the loss of other colleagues. But I know how to deal with loss. I have had to before."
Shepard knew that she was lying. Her tone was level, her eyes did not twitch around, and her posture was perfect. Even under close observation it seemed that Miranda was indeed fine. But a gut feeling, something that had led him true many times, told Shepard that she wasn't.
Still, even if she was lying, it was clear that she wasn't ready to admit it.
At least not to him.
"Alright," he nodded, "if you're fit for duty, then I'd like your assistance with something."
She returned his nod. "Of course Commander."
"Good. Meet me in my quarters in 5 minutes. I have to get Garrus, we'll need his help on this too."
"Very good. I'll just finish a few things up here before going."
Shepard gave her one more nod, stood up, and turned to leave. As he began to step through the door, it occurred to him that he had not informed Miranda of something important.
"Miranda," Shepard turned around to face her. She was still sitting in her chair. "When I met with Councilor Anderson, I told him about Jacob. He agreed to put together a service for him."
Miranda took in a quiet yet sharp intake of breath and swallowed. Her eyes wandered down to her desk for a few moments before reconnecting with Shepard's.
"Thank you Commander. It's what Jacob would have wanted."
92.6 seconds.
That's how long it had taken Garrus to field strip his Mantis rifle. Before he'd had his right arm chopped off by The Wrath his record for field stripping his rifle had been half that time. It was just another item added to a growing list of abilities he'd taken for granted.
"Damn it."
Experimentally, Garrus flexed the mechanical fingers of his new prosthetic limb. They still felt stiff and their movements had a near imperceptible delay. He'd spent hours last night recalibrating the damn thing and it still didn't feel like it moved quite right. The soft whirring of the motors inside also irritated him every time he used it. But the worst of it was how it felt, or rather, how it didn't.
Garrus ran the talons of his prosthetic over the barrel of his Mantis.
Before he would have been able to feel the coolness of the metal and the perfect smoothness of its design. But with this new hand, all he felt was the dull bump of the receptors feeding acknowledgements to his nerves. He hated that. Though on some level he noted that it provided him the advantage of not feeling any pain.
"Come on Vakarian. Moping never solved anything." Garrus moved from his rifle to his sidearm: a Ventis.
Supposedly designed by a former member of Black Watch, the Ventis was the standard sidearm of all Hierarchy special forces. It was favored for its incredible heat management systems, which allowed 15 high powered shots before overheating, and its unique ability to switch from single shot, to three round burst, to fully automatic.
It was a weapon exclusive to Black Watch and high ranking officials. To own one was an indicator of skill and service. Garrus had received his the day he'd chosen to join C-SEC instead of Black Watch, as a gift from his father. That day had been one of the happiest days of his life, because it had also been the only time Garrus had ever heard his father say: 'I'm proud of you'.
His father. His mother. His sister.
It suddenly occurred to Garrus that it had been a long time since he'd had contact with any member of his family. The last time he'd talked to any of them was after he'd quit C-SEC. That had not been a pleasant conversation.
His mother and sister had been understanding.
His father had been furious.
Looking down at the pistol his father had gifted to him, Garrus could still hear the words his father had said to him that day, and they stung horribly.
His father hadn't roared and ranted. That wasn't his way. All he did was say four words: "You have disappointed me."
Garrus loudly slammed the Ventis on the work bench. But before he could sink further in his rage the door behind him suddenly slid open.
His instincts screamed: AMBUSH! GUN! HOSTILE!
"Hey thWHOA!" Shepard jumped back when he saw the Ventis aimed at him.
"Shepard?" It took Garrus a moment to realize that he had just drawn a gun on his best friend. Timidly he lowered his pistol and switched the safety back on.
"Garrus...you okay?" Shepard asked, a hand cautiously held out in case he needed to throw up a barrier. The Turian barely heard his friend's words as his heart hammered deafeningly inside of his chest.
"Yeah...yeah...sorry I...I um..."
"It's alright Garrus." Shepard slowly lowered his hand. "Is it Omega again?"
"Kind of," he lied.
Two years of operating on Omega had instilled within Garrus a sort of high functioning paranoia. Every time he walked into a room his first priority was finding the best escape route. Every time he went to sleep it was with his Ventis underneath his pillow. And every time a door opened, Garrus expected a gangbanger with a shotgun hoping to kill Archangel.
It had been worse before, when he first stepped on the new Normandy. A dozen similar incidents of him drawing on crew members had happened before Garrus had started feeling safe enough to let down his guard.
"So uh...what did Councilor Anderson have to say?" asked Garrus, eager to change the subject.
Shepard smiled understandingly. "Good news. The Council is taking me seriously for once. I'm meeting with them tomorrow to give a personal debrief of the situation."
Garrus' mandibles twitched in surprise. "That is good news."
"That's not all."
"Whoa Alan. Two pieces of good news in a row? Now I know your pulling my quills."
"Heh, nope! I stopped at Huerta on the way back. Jack and Zaeed have been let out, they'll be back here soon."
"Glad to hear it. Been getting a serious case of ship fever with only a hyper active Salarian and a surly Krogan with tiny hands to keep me company."
"Heh, I can imagine. So what are you doing up in the armory? Usually I got to go down to the main battery to find you."
"Just a little bit of weapons maintenance. Jacob usually did it." Garrus left it at that and Shepard nodded solemnly.
Just like Shepard, Garrus had been extremely skeptical of working with Cerberus. He had been with Shepard when they had assaulted the secret Cerberus labs and discovered the horrific experiments being done inside. And just like Shepard, it was Jacob that had first started earning his trust.
"Well, if you've got some time. I could use an extra pair of eyes to look over the files on CAT6."
Garrus made the Turian equivalent of a smirk. "Making me use my brain huh? And here I thought I was just here for my good looks."
Tuchanka
A gust of hot dry air caressed Wreav's scaly pitted face as he and two of his bodyguards strode down the dark hall. Thousands of years ago, this same hall would have been painted with murals in remembrance of great battles fought and decorated with the skulls of worthy enemies slain. But time and the elements had destroyed its beauty, leaving only the sandy brown stone beneath it.
The hall he walked through belonged to the building that had once served as the Urdnot shipyard. During the prime of the Krogan, many terrifying battlebarges had been birthed from its womb. As Wreav exited the hall out onto a rusted, yet sturdy, catwalk overlooking a massive kilometer long docking bay, he thought he could almost hear the pounding of industrial hammers and the heat of welding torches being used by the war smiths.
But the only thing left in the bay was the ruined wreckage of an unfinished battle barge. Had it been finished, it would have been the terror of a hundred planets. Instead the Council with their CDEM had aborted its future. Just as the Salarians had aborted the future of the Krogan with the Genophage.
They'll pay. They'll all pay. Wreave promised himself that.
The Chieftain and his two bodyguards moved deeper towards the back of the docking bay. There they spotted their destination, a small landing pad.
In the past it would have been used for construction shuttles that hauled massive pieces of material to be used in building a battle barge.
Now though, only a single ship of black and gray metal sat on it. It was a ship unlike any found in either Citadel space or the Terminus. Everything about it radiated an alien origin, from the unfamiliar material that made up its hull to the peculiar non-streamlined shape.
As they approached the alien ship, Wreav noted that the boarding ramp was lowered. Standing on it was a single slim figure using a welding torch to perform, he assumed, maintenance. Upon getting to the foot of the boarding ramp, Wreav found he recognized her.
She lifted the welding mask, revealing her face to them. Her facial features were akin to an Asari's, she even had blue skin. But she was not an Asari. From what Wreav remembered, she was a member of a race beyond his galaxy's stars, called: Twi'leks.
Behind her head, he could see the pair of head tails that distinguished her origins. Upon seeing them her delicate mouth formed an annoyed frown.
"Boss didn't say you were coming," she said rather casually.
"I came of my own prerogative," Wreav explained.
"Good for you."
"Insolent creature!" the bodyguard to Wreav's right bellowed, "you speak to the Chieftain of Clan Urdnot! Beg for mercy now and perhaps he will not-"
Wreav quickly raised a hand to silence the bodyguard.
"Do not speak for me," he warned. Turning his attention back to the Twi'lek, he noted that her free hand had dropped to one of the two pistols holstered at her waist. Wreav ignored the subtle threat.
"I must see Him. You will summon Him."
The Twi'lek seemed to contemplate his orders for a moment, before finally placing the maintenance torch in a tool bag.
"Wait here," she said, then disappeared into the ship.
Wreav bit down a snarl. Despite chiding his bodyguard's behavior, Wreav felt an unimaginable desire to smash the puny Twi'lek to paste. Who was she, a female and an alien, to speak to him with such candor? She was nothing but a servant! She ought to be begging for the honor of licking clean his boots!
Such firey vengeful thoughts were immediately doused, when the Twi'lek returned and with her, her master.
Wreav swallowed.
"Urdnot."
"Wrath."
Wreav nodded respectfully, though it galled him to show respect to a foreigner. The Wrath seemed to sense Wreav's hidden thoughts and fixed him with a hard stare. Wreav, in an attempt to stand his ground, tried to meet The Wrath's stare. But the moment he looked into those cold black eyes, he was overwhelmed with the unconquerable instinct turn away.
"You interrupted my meditations. I hope you have a good reason." As he spoke The Wrath slowly began to circle Wreav's group.
"I do," Wreav responded stiffly. "I have just finished meeting with the Chieftains of Clan Halya and Clan Olok."
"And?"
"And they have submitted to my rule. Regardless of what the remaining Clans say, I am now effectively King and War Master of Tuchanka."
"My congratulations to you, your Highness," The Wrath did not even try to disguise his mocking tone. "But you will meet with the remaining Chieftains, and you will convince them to stand by your side."
"Why? I now lead an army far greater than any of them could muster, even if they were to combine forces. We should simply wait for them to fall in line."
"Urdnot Wrex's fatal mistake was believing that you would never pose a threat to his reign. Do not follow in his footsteps."
Being compared to his bastard brother irked Wreav's temper. "Never."
"I am glad to hear it." The Wrath finished circling the three Krogan. "And how go the other preparations?"
"They go well. We should be ready in a month."
"You have two weeks."
Wreav's eyes widened.
"I...I cannot work miracles." His surprise soon turned to anger. "And you have not yet fulfilled every promise you gave me. Perhaps before I order my people to continue, you should-"
The Wrath took one step closer.
"...you should..."
And just like that the fire that had burned so brightly in his belly was reduced to but a cinder. Wreav tried to reignite it, but then The Wrath took another step.
"...you..."
The fire was gone now and its ashes had been scattered in the wind.
Another step and the two of them were practically nose to nose. Wreav towered over The Wrath by at least two feet and outweighed the Sith by at least 800 pounds of muscle. Yet it was quite clear which of them was truly in charge.
"Do not forget, your Highness, that your crown can be worn by another."
Wreav instinctively snarled. "Is that a threat?"
"Yes."
Without another word The Wrath turned back to his ship, not even bothering to dismiss the Krogan.
"You can go now," said the Twi'lek, an amused look on her face as she smugly leaned against the wall of the ship.
Barely biting down a his anger, Wreav swiveled around and marched back the way he had come. When he was sure he was far enough not to be heard, he let loose his frustration in a single deafening roar.
Normandy SR2
Shepard and Garrus entered the Commander's quarters. True to her word, Miranda was already there waiting for them. She stood up from the corner couch.
"Great, we're all here," said Shepard as he and Garrus made their way to Miranda. "I've asked you both here because among our team you two have the most experience with investigative work."
Shepard activated his Omni and produced two copies of the files given to him by the SAI. He sent them to Garrus and Miranda who began looking through them on their own Omni-tools.
"These are files from the SAI on CAT6. There's a lot of data, so I need your assistance in working through it all. Between the three of of us we just might find something that gives us a trail. One we can follow to the the ones behind all of this."
"So we can put a bullet in their head," Garrus finished. Miranda nodded in agreement.
"Exactly." Shepard sat down on the couch. "But like I said: there's a lot here. So let's split the work up evenly and get to it."
After establishing who would look at what, the three of them began their work. As expected, Garrus' experience as a detective for C-SEC and Miranda's time as an intelligence operative with Cerberus proved invaluable. Both burned through their work at an incredible rate and efficiently pointed out details of note. Shepard was rather slow in comparison, though N7s were trained to be observant they were never specifically trained for this.
Still, Shepard did his best. When Miranda and Garrus finished their portions, he gladly gave them bits of his own. After two hours of reading through the data and jotting down notes, the three had come up with a comprehensive list of possible leads.
Then began the process to see if any of it would help them.
Garrus started off their review.
"You're friend Roussel-"
"She's not my friend," interrupted Shepard. After having seen Roussel, he had returned to the Normandy and promptly complained about her to Garrus.
"...right. Roussel was telling the truth when she said CAT6 isn't like any normal merc band. Some of these files date back as far as five years."
"Can't believe the SAI has been investigating them for that long," said Shepard.
"It's not that uncommon. Standard operating procedures for any intelligence bureau is to keep eyes on any possible points of interest, even if there is no ongoing investigation," explained Miranda.
Shepard nodded. "So what do you mean Roussel is right?"
"Well, all the earliest reports on transactions they had with the Shadow Broker."
"A lot of merc bands do business with the Shadow Broker," Miranda pointed out.
"Yeah, but look at this report." Garrus pulled up a screen with his Omni-tool and showed it to them. "An information data package intercepted by an SAI Agent. It contained numbers on the standing military power of all races."
"Military power?"
"Yeah, things like number of ground troops, fleet sizes, and weapons technology. The Alliance, the Republics, the Hegemony, Spirits even information on my people was on there."
Shepard took a loot at the report on his own Omni and frowned. "That's the kind of stuff you'd be looking for if you're planning an invasion."
"It's gets better," assured Garrus. "A report a few months later details a few heist jobs that CAT6 pulled in the Terminus."
"Things get stolen in the Terminus all the time. I'm assuming the loot this time was something special?"
"100,000 tons of non-perishable dried meat."
"Food?"
"They hit a supply ship headed for one of the few independent colonies in the Terminus. Nearly all the colonists starved after that."
Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm starting to hate CAT6 more and more. But back to the topic at hand. It's a little odd but there's nothing special about food."
"Hold on, I'm not done," said Garrus. "A week after that CAT6 attacked dozens of medical transports. They didn't target the ships of any one government so it just looked like a series of random pirate attacks. But the agent who filled out the report noted that of each transport the main thing missing were sedatives."
"That's even odder than the food," said Shepard.
"And then a week after that, CAT6 started a spree of grand theft auto. They stole every kind of ship under the sun, civilian and military of various makes."
Miranda put the pieces together quickly. "Learning about military strengths and weaknesses. Storing up food supplies. Acquiring transportation. They really are planning some sort of invasion with the Krogan."
In a strange way it made sense, except one thing. "What are the sedatives for?" asked Shepard.
Miranda answered again. "You've worked with Krogan before Commander. Grunt has to be let out of the Normandy on the regular basis or he starts getting rough with the crew."
"Yeah, I remember." Shepard winced at the memory of Grunt challenging everyone to a headbutting competition. "I'm pretty sure I've still got the cracks in my skull to remind me."
"My point is if one Krogan gets surly on his own, what would a bunch of Krogan cramped onto a ship be like?"
"A god damn nightmare. The sedatives are to make sure they don't kill each other?"
"I'll be honest, I've been tempted to shoot Grunt with a tranquilizer gun on occasion," Garrus quipped.
"Okay so things are pointing towards some sort of Krogan invasion. But why? Are the Krogan paying them? And why try when their species is already in a crisis?"
"I doubt it's the Krogan doing the paying. Remember what Wrex said, Wreav had a benefactor."
"Which we know to be The Wrath." Garrus mechanical arm clenched audibly upon saying it.
"Right. So the big question is then: who is The Wrath?"
"I've actually been trying to find that out," said Miranda. "I took a look at all the dossiers for CAT6 members of note."
"And?"
"And nothing. At least nothing that looks promising. None of these dossiers have anyone that fits The Wrath's profile."
"Are you sure you did it right?" asked Garrus. "I mean it's not like we ever got a good look at him under the helmet."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Please Vakarian. I'm not looking based purely on look. There are other factors that I can use to find a match. Such as his height."
Garrus' mandibles flared curiously. "I'm sorry, I must have missed the part of the fight where you took a tape measurer and-"
"I guessed his height from memory," interrupted Miranda.
This time Shepard was curious. "You can do that?"
"My father spared no expense when...designing me. My memory is almost as good as a Drell's. All that's left to do is analyze the memory. The Wrath is 1.91 meters tall, with a possible deviation of 2 centimeters depending on how much of his height is attributed to his helmet and boots. I can give estimates on his other measurements as well if you like."
"Uh...I'm good," said Garrus. Miranda inclined her chin a bit arrogantly in response.
"Play nice you two," Shepard ordered sternly. He had no patience at the moment for competition amongst the team. "Miranda, you're sure he's not in there?"
Miranda brought up her Omni and brought up an orange screen displaying a series of mug shots depicting various gruff looking men and women. "None of the files provide a match. Some come close and I've tagged them as possibilities, but they don't feel close enough to me."
Shepard sighed disappointedly. "Damn, I was hoping for something. But I guess he wouldn't be that sloppy."
"I did find something that will help though," Miranda swiped two fingers across her Omni's haptic screen, cycling through the pictures of CAT6 members until settling on one. She showed it to them. "Look familiar?"
The lead officer, a man of Asian descent, had regulation length hair that indicated that he was once part of the military.
"Commander Shepard," the lead guard spoke with a British accent, "I'm Sergeant Mills, sorry to have to detain you. Please follow me and we'll get this all sorted out as quickly as possible."
"Sergeant Mills." The man in the photo was unmistakably the same one that they had encountered at the orbital checkpoint station. The same one who had assisted The Wrath in trying to kill them. Shepard felt anger rise inside of him as he stared at the photo.
"He's a member of those soldiers that wore black armor and had those laser guns right?" asked Garrus.
Miranda nodded. "He was apparently their Captain. The SAI lists him as Lieutenant Nathaniel Lin, but that's probably just a cover name. The Wrath told us his real name: Tyco."
The dozen soldiers in black took up positions behind The Wrath, six on his right, and five on his left. Sergeant Mills, who carried his helmet under his arm, marched to stand next to The Wrath.
"You're late Captain Tyco."
Mills, or Tyco as was his real name, lowered his head submissively. "My apologies my lord. Allow me to make amends by eliminating these intruders."
"He knows The Wrath. If we can get to Tyco, we can get to him," Shepard realized.
"I'm all for tracking down the bad guys," said Garrus. "But there is the slight problem of him still being in the Krogan DMZ. I want revenge, but with nearly half our team in the hospital I can't say our chances of a rematch with The Wrath will go any better than last time."
"He may not even be in the DMZ anymore," Miranda pointed out. "For all we know they were only there to ambush us. If that's the case then they've likely moved out of he system. They could be anywhere in the galaxy by now."
Shepard exhaled heavily. "Great, so we still don't have a lead."
"That's not necessarily true," said Miranda. She tapped a few keys on her Omni and the profile pictures on her screen were replaced with a miniature model of the Terminus systems. "The SAI also had in their files a list of known CAT6 safe houses, compounds, and command centers."
"So what, we just hit all of them and hope that we just happen to find Tyco?"
"Not exactly. Remember how Tyco reacted when The Wrath admonished him for 'being late'? Do you recall how he responded?"
"He scraped and bowed."
"And he also referred to The Wrath as 'lord'. Nobles haven't held any real power in human culture for hundreds of years. But Tyco clearly reveres The Wrath. If we hit enough of these CAT6 locations to disrupt their operations, and make it clear that it's because we're looking for Tyco, we might be able to draw him out."
Garrus thoughtfully scratched his chin. "We'll make him feel like he's responsible. Then like a good little bootlick he'll rush to fix the problem before his master finds out and punishes him."
Miranda nodded. "Precisely."
Shepard leaned back against the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. "It would be a long shot. A helluva long shot. But it's the only shot we have."
"Then do I have your permission to begin planning?" asked Miranda.
Shepard sat up and nodded. "Permission granted. I'm meeting with the Council tomorrow to present our findings from Tuchanka. I'd like a rough idea of which bases we'll be hitting and in what order before then. Hopefully it'll help them see reason for once and grant us support."
"I'll make it my top priority," assured Miranda
"Garrus, I want you to take inventory and buy supplies. Get anything you think we'll need for this hunt. If we do run into The Wrath again, I want to be prepared."
"Got it. I have a few ideas on how to even the playing field with that bastard."
Shepard smiled. The last week had been hell for everyone. They'd lost a dear friend and been forced to wait and do nothing about it. It had felt like everyone had been drowning under the weight of their own depression. The SAI files had delivered a breath of fresh air.
Now they knew their enemy. Now they had a plan of attack. Now they could finally avenge Jacob.
The enemy had shown them the worst they had to offer in The Wrath. From here on, nothing would catch them off guard.
Aboard The Exile
Revan stood on the bridge of his super dreadnought. The lights had been dimmed and the entrances closed so that the only source of light came from the holo-projector in the center room. Currently that holo-projector displayed a blue holographic bust of Revan's most faithful servant and friend: The Wrath.
"The operation on Tuchanka goes well. The Krogan are making good progress despite the ineptitude of their...king." The Wrath made no effort to sarcasm as he said it. "Regardless of Wreav's childish stupidity, we will be ready."
"I am glad to hear it," said Revan, he paused for a moment as he considered his next words. "How is Vette?"
"The same as always. Too smug for her own good. I don't believe she realizes that any of the Krogan could snap her in two with one hand."
Revan chuckled. "Or perhaps she simply feels safe knowing that she has you to watch over her."
"I wish she would be more cautious. I do not have time to train another pilot if she pokes one of them too many times."
Only with Revan did The Wrath talk this way. Gone was the constant translation of danger through his words. Gone was the subtle body language that conveyed threats. When it was just the two of them, all theatricality was dropped in favor of much more honest conversations. The two of them talked like the old friends that they were.
"One of these days, I will get you to admit that you care for that girl more than you let on," said the Emperor.
The Wrath let out an annoyed grumble. "I can't admit something that I'm not hiding. She's a good servant, a competent servant. That alone is enough for me to keep her around, nothing more."
"Wrath, I enjoy being listed as one of the few beings in the galaxy that you call friend. I also appreciate that you keep that list short because you favor quality over quantity. But there's nothing wrong with adding a few more to that list. There is room."
The Wrath crossed his arms. "You sound like Vowrawn. A few months ago he tried to introduce me to his 37th daughter, said that it was about time I settled down with a nice Sith girl."
"I've met her. She's pretty, I think you could do worse."
"She's an idiot."
"No one says that you need brains to have a casual intimate relationship. Some women actually prefer to keep things casual."
Revan could tell that The Wrath was frowning behind his mask. "Those kind of women do not interest me."
The Emperor decided that he had prodded his friend enough and chose to drop the subject. At that same the door behind Revan slid open with a hiss, admitting one of the bridge crew inside as well as the light of the observation deck.
"Forgive me the interruption my Emperor. But we have arrived at our destination."
"Thank you Ensign. I'll be just a moment." The Ensign bowed and hurriedly vacated the Emperor's presence. Revan returned his attention to the holo-projector. "It seems that I am needed."
"I shall return to overseeing the preparations."
Revan nodded. "I have faith in you my friend."
"Thank you, my Master." The Wrath bowed and the transmission cut. When Revan was sure The Wrath could no longer hear him, he let out a heavy sigh.
"Please have the same faith in me when I tell you the truth," he whispered to the air.
Revan exited the bridge through the same door the Ensign had entered and stepped out onto the observation deck. As he strode up command walkway to the main viewports, the bridge crew paused in their work to bow to him. He would rather that they not, but part of being Emperor was playing along with how subjects viewed him.
Standing already at the forward view ports and staring out at their destination was Revan's companion in this journey.
"Admiral Kigre."
The admiral, a tall female Rattataki, turned to face him. Like the rest of the crew she bowed upon seeing him.
"My Emperor," she returned to facing the view port. "We've arrived. Your fleet is in position and ready to destroy the entire planet in case things go bad."
"I doubt that will be necessary," said Revan as he moved to stand next to her. "From what I've ready, they seem like a logical people. I'm sure I can make them see reason."
"I wouldn't exactly call them people any more than I'd call droids people," said Kirge.
"Now Admiral, remember that we must remain open minded."
Kirge nodded. "Of course my Emperor. As always I'll handle blowing things up and you handle the talking."
Revan chuckled. "No sense waiting any longer. It is time I made the acquaintance of the Geth."
The Exile moved towards the planet below. On Rannoch's surface, the Geth's sensors detected the intrusion of Revan's fleet and they recognized it as an unknown entity. A consensus amongst the many programs was reach in exactly 0.8756 seconds.
They would initiate an exchange of information with these unknown new comers.
