[ Chapter 10: Grand Plans ]
PERSONS — "Aria T'Loak Spotted on Presidium"
Earlier this morning, Omega representative Aria T'Loak was seen in the middle of an escort of personal bodyguards and C-Sec officers. They were spotted traveling from a transportation terminal and heading in the direction of the Embassies. The Terminus Space magnate has not been seen this side of the Attican Traverse in over half a century, which inspired a few questions directed at her by an interviewer who managed to catch up to the miniature parade before it disappeared into the offices of Council space's elected representatives.
When asked what her business on the Citadel consisted of, Aria T'Loak paused to answer, "I am here to accept the Council's appeasement of four hundred indentured servants to be transferred into my custody."
The interviewer made a dubious comment regarding the illegal nature of indentured servitude in Council space, followed up by another question addressing the reason for appeasement in the first place, T'Loak replied, "Over the last month I have suffered under the presupposition that I am responsible for smuggling Alunigen B2 into Council space and have consequently violated treaty. This has done irreparable damages to my pristine reputation and therefore qualifies as libel."
A brief call to the Council's press secretary inquiring about Aria T'Loak's presence on the Citadel and the legitimacy of her given reasons yielded the answer of, "I see Aria T'Loak has wasted no time in taking advantage of her diplomatic immunity to spread her hilarious jests. I stress that everyone seeking her comment must take into consideration that she is under no official oath of veracity and may be tempted to answer your inquiries with falsehoods and caricatures. The councilors are presently meeting with Aria T'Loak to settle a minor dispute over Spectre presence in the Terminus Systems, which is expected to be resolved within the work day."
:::
Just as Councilor Tevos remembered, whenever Aria came to the Embassies everything would grow unnervingly quiet, save for the chorus of terminal chimes notifying their owners of temporarily heightened security measures.
She was standing beside the desk in her office after being alerted of her guest's arrival, unable to keep her attention focused on any other point of interest over the next few minutes spent waiting. The anticipatory tension in her chest had the rest of her body alert and restless, as if experiencing an extrasensory premonition of something intangible, yet astoundingly heavy, suspended right overhead and threatening to descend upon her at any moment. The feeling was suffocating, like a thick vapor of unease weighing the air and continuously drawing into her lungs.
I have felt this before, she recognized. The very same... unrest. From long ago.
The gentle comforting warmth offered by the light entering the room and painting the councilor's back was but the Presidium's weak reassurance that all was well on the Citadel, and would continue to faithfully persist in that manner throughout the remainder of the day. Ordinarily, Tevos would have accepted the familiar blue pseudo-skies as adequate cause to return to business without unnecessarily amplifying her concerns, but today, the atmosphere's attempts to soothe her seemed terribly weak in comparison to what storm system it tried to remedy. There was great cause for worry. There was great cause for concern as there was for excitement. The trouble was in the blend; a gale of warm and cold conceptions twisting and tangling her nerves into knots.
Whenever Aria came to the Embassies, Tevos thought again, its halls emptied, and whoever Aria encountered along the way addressed her with forced hospitality, because the Citadel was not friends with Omega. They were two enemies who had temporarily lain down their weapons at the behest of their leaders, whose lives were but singular, ephemeral instants in a vast, dark eternity.
As the councilor toiled to put her troubles into a more manageable perspective, she gradually regained control over her nervous exasperation at the idea of Aria physically joining her for a conversation. She focused on her office's door, building her resolve.
They were only responsible for the moment, Tevos reminded herself. Just a few droplet moments amid an endless sea of what came before and what would come after. And that wasn't so daunting to Tevos.
When Aria arrived at last, she traveled through the open doorway bearing an expression that suggested she was in the midst of quickly gathering her bearings. She was resurrecting old memories of the layout of the asari councilor's office and making mental adjustments to accommodate changes made in the environment over the years. New furnishings themed by black-and-cream-hued geometry, the occasional small plant cheerfully complementing the minimalistic décor. And then her pale eyes drifted to the area's most permanent, immutable fixture: the councilor herself, standing within her impartial aura of standard welcome and patience. Curiously enough, Aria spent more time adjusting to her presence than to any other detail.
She stepped further into the well-lit office. There came the sound of her boots lightly treating upon immaculate floors, joined by the councilor's pricey shoes. Eye contact was made and remained unbroken. Tevos took in her stature, watching white-clad shoulders faintly shift and brood in reflection of the movements of her legs, witnessing Aria silently conquer the space around and between them with the ruthless preeminence she so diligently yet unconsciously radiated.
A hand was extended and accepted without a word, initiating a gesture of mutual acknowledgement. It was hasty and uncertain—diminishing into a quick retreat almost as soon as it began, and the councilor was already returning to her desk with her guest in tow. Anything to sever their eye contact for an instant of reprieve.
"My secretary Eleni alerted me to your arrival," Tevos said to Aria while descending into her seat. She gestured to the chair before her desk, bidding her to sit as well. While Aria made herself comfortable, Tevos continued, "She told me that you have brought eight mercenaries with you, all of whom are presently standing vigilant in the anteroom. Once again, it seems, you've successfully frightened everyone within a fifty-meter radius of yourself. So I must ask, was it truly necessary to bring your personal task force with you to the Citadel? After all, I'm sure you find our security to be adequate on its own."
The councilor's thoughts were indeed on poor Eleni, whose day had been thoroughly ruined by the assembly stationed in the same room she normally worked in. Earlier that morning, Tevos recalled, after informing Eleni that she would also be attending her family's reunion so that the asari councilor would not have to go without a secretarial crutch if confronted by urgent news from the Citadel, the girl could hardly contain her excitement and beamed for hours. Unfortunately, a certain coalition of extra, unanticipated guests—a pride of darkly-dressed, surly-looking thugs—quietly leering at her from where they loitered in the anteroom, had very likely spoiled her mood.
When presented with the question, the faintest smile appeared on Aria's lips. "I may make mistakes on occasion, Councilor," she smugly said, "but I never make the same one twice."
Tevos interpreted her answer as being in reference to the compromising position Aria had once found herself in long ago while visiting the Citadel. As the memory beset her, some quick math inspired her to ask, "And so you believe you can hold your own with just nine individuals if the circumstance warrants?"
"Did I say there were nine of us?" Aria tilted her head slightly, arrogantly feigning incertitude.
"Are there not?" Tevos inquired. But soon, as they maintained their stare, she came to realize that Aria was subtly insinuating the presence of additional visitors unaccounted for by the Embassies. Clearly, Aria had refined her tactical foresight even beyond what she brought when they initially met, which had already impressed Tevos no small amount.
As Aria watched her with that familiar superiority in her eyes—posing a challenge, as if resuming precisely where they had left off, and therefore as if all the days spent apart instantly collapsed into a single, insignificant, fleeting moment—Tevos was made to wonder what else had evolved. How much her luscious wealth had swelled, how many more mercenaries and operatives had pledged their lives to her ambitions, and how the terrible attrition of Omega's perpetual violence had sharpened her wits and skills like a blade wrought to a divinely keen edge.
Instead of saying anything more, the two were subjected to muteness once again and were satisfied with their shared gaze, still acclimating to one another.
Such silence between us, Tevos thought in reticent awe. Their meeting was, in her honest opinion, extraordinarily anticlimactic compared to the degree of mental preparation she had put herself through. Here Aria was suddenly in her office again, replicating a vividly familiar scene despite its temporal distance. So many aspects about her office had changed or moved to different locations, and even the two presently residing within it had grown exponentially in their respective manners, steadily filling their occupations, yet the passage of time was completely unfelt. But if that was so, then their last encounter should have been at the forefront of their minds, eclipsing all other personal concerns. According to Aria's demeanor, however, the thought was absent or inconsequential.
How do you bury something like that? The councilor wordlessly sent her question toward Aria, and accepted the fact that she would not be receiving an answer so long as she declined to voice it. How do you keep yourself from saying anything at all? Do you really not care about it in the least bit? I asked you but a few nights ago. I asked you. I did. Why have you not answered me, even after so conspicuously... flirting with me then? Why have you avoided and wasted the opportunity to make a fool out of me?
Tevos gently, almost inaudibly cleared her throat. "I asked you to come here because I must speak to you about certain subjects that I cannot under any circumstance, save for in person and in very... sterile settings, discuss." She spent a moment examining Aria's waiting, unsatisfied look to gauge her reaction. But before she could continue, Aria began to speak.
"Before you say anything else," she said, leering carefully at the councilor, "I'm going to make this very clear: I'm not signing anything today."
Tevos replied with honesty, "I never intended to ask you to sign anything."
"Well, how wonderful for me," Aria remarked in her usual confusing hybrid of cruel mockery and genuine civility. She brought up a leg to cross over the other and leaned back in her chair with a leisurely slant. "Go on, then."
Tevos hesitated before resuming, deciding that if Aria was going to give her two-sided quips, she was going to graciously return them. "I'm sure you didn't come all this way to banter with me. Or did you, being so terribly starved of that pleasure for so long?"
Aria said nothing, and her enigmatic expression did not change. She blinked once, unmoving, and Tevos unconsciously found herself smiling at Aria's delayed rebuttal.
But her smile immediately disintegrated, sinking into an abyss of self-reprimand she had grown painfully familiar with over time. It had become routine. It had become as cyclical as it was anticipated; an endless process beginning with a smile or some other form of expressed or internal delight at something Aria had said, done, or innately was, followed by a wave of sudden shame. And the result was always the same. After Tevos struggled to banish her encroaching thoughts to the most remote asylums of her mind, she would issue to herself a solemn promise to never again entertain such idle fancies, only to find them freely roaming the landscape of her thoughts once more and not a day later in some recent cases. It was like holding drifts of sand behind porous stone—soon after imprisoning the infectious notions, she would find the dunes steadily peaking anew.
It is, in essence, and obligation to answer the question of what went wrong, and why I allowed it, thought the councilor. Why I dared listen to my misguided proclivities, and most of all… what breach in my judgment to this day still terrorizes me like this. I cause myself horrendous, endless turmoil because I simply refuse to participate in housing interest in... in Aria. I feel terrible, so very terrible. I need to stop tormenting myself. I need to accept and embrace my mistakes. Acknowledge them, learn from them, move on, and never again repeat the errors of my past. It is the only way to feasibly end this, and end this I must, else it will inhibit my ability to effectively work with Aria. And in these circumstances, such distractions are impermissible.
But there Aria sat aloof in the cleansing light bathing her face but failing to thaw her remote, glacial leer. How complicated things had become, not only around them, but between them. And not even Aria, so resolute and cunning, seemed to be able to find words whose tactful density could save them from silence. So Tevos offered a small smile again, tilting her head a bit as if to insinuate that she had found herself a vestige of victory in Aria's pause, and this time, she did not torment or punish herself for holding the amicable expression.
The very moment she was confronted by that wordless assertion, Aria finally articulated a response skillfully enough to make the councilor suspect that she had been withholding it all along until an opportune moment arrived:
"You know as well as I do that our shared company inevitably ends in some form of friction."
Her smile instantly disappeared. "Of course," Tevos said, pretending to be immune to Aria's instigation. "Now, our first order of business is addressing what sensitive information I wished to divulge you in." She rose from her chair, gathering a datapad into one hand as she made her way toward the corner of her office where wall met window, and began to access something from the tablet. Her back faced her guest. "I will not speak to you about this through any communicative medium save for direct speech. We're relatively safe here. I made certain of the absence of all recording devices that might be 'eavesdropping', but in even further effort to combat a small margin of error, I'd advise you to join me. Here."
After Tevos had accessed the data she sought, she turned back to peer at Aria from over her shoulder, who still remained stationary in her seat before the councilor's desk. She was eyeing her with disobedient suspicion, and perhaps with disapproval at being told where to go. When Aria failed to move over the course of the next few seconds, Tevos beckoned to her again with a benign gesture. At last the crime lord was persuaded, leaving her chair behind to accompany her at the window overlooking the lower tiers of the Presidium. Before she reached her side, however, Aria stopped again, prompting Tevos to reorient her body toward her, perplexed at her insistence to be disagreeable. The councilor sent her a questioning look.
"Someone doesn't want you talking," said Aria.
She was technically correct, but Tevos said nothing, unwilling to so brazenly express her confirmation.
"They have tape over your mouth," Aria quietly pried, suddenly appearing vastly interested. She took a few more steps toward Tevos, closing the distance between herself and the spot previously designated for her occupation. "It's not just sensitive intelligence. It's restricted."
The asari councilor mutely observed her, then cryptically turned away without uttering a word until Aria had filled the spot beside her. Although Aria was not visibly pleased at being denied an immediate answer, Tevos proceeded in a hushed volume, "Please read this. It should answer your question and sufficiently explain my purpose for having you here." She handed Aria her datapad.
Aria took it from her, but kept her penetrating gaze upon Tevos for a brief spell, trying to read her. Once satisfied with her analysis—or after discovering that she had uncovered little through the councilor's returned obscure look—she averted her eyes and redirected them to the datapad.
She spent some time thoroughly reading its contents, which displayed a copy of a personal correspondence between Councilor Tevos and Asari High Command. It was the letter Tevos had received only two days previously, marked with all sorts of glaring red flags and forewarnings of its highly confidential material. After Aria had scrolled past the digital fence of barbed-wire restrictions, she came upon a body of text vividly outlining Asari High Command's plans to rouse sleeper agents into action in the event that Aria T'Loak was deposed and what actions, both militaristic and political, would be taken after a successful seizure of Omega. Although the letter held nothing potent enough to lead to a substantiated accusation of violating treaty, Tevos could see Aria steadily bristling with rage with every moment she spent learning about the secret arrangement. When Aria reached the end of the letter, she found an addendum written by Tevos herself and personally addressed to Aria:
As you have seen, the councilor had written, although this plan is not intended to be put into action unless you fall from power, the level of secrecy shrouding the matter has led me to suspect that Asari High Command may not be telling me their entire plan, especially since they are aware of the frequency of correspondence between you and myself. Not only have they explicitly asked me to withhold every bit of information about this plan from you, but our recent conference gave me yet another reason to hold their transparency under suspicion. You said that Asari High Command had asked for your permission to send their agents to Omega, but as you have discovered in their letter to me, the agents are already present on Omega. Concealed within your syndicate. I found the onus upon myself to reveal this possible treachery to you, and so here you are. I spoke to Asari High Command this very morning, as a matter of fact. I merely insinuated that I intended to help you with your current troubles to gauge their reaction to the idea in hopes that I would discern their true position. They did not forbid me from acting in that manner, but they were remarkably hesitant and reluctant to support me. In conclusion, I lack definitive proof to say that they are in fact actively taking measures to depose you, but these dubious 'coincidences' are far too abundant for us to ignore.
Once she had finished, Aria acridly handed the datapad back to its owner, who half-expected to find cracks in the interface's frame judging by what violent grip it had endured. Fortunately, Tevos found no damages. After completing her quick inspection of the device, she turned her scrutiny onto Aria to assess her as well, and found the crime lord glaring out the window at the Presidium's green foliage, clean walkways, and glistening water with her hands contemptuously fitted on her hips.
"I had a spy of my own amongst them," Aria said, lifting a single hand to thoughtfully rub her jaw. "And I was not alerted to any of this."
Tevos's eyes widened in disbelief at the news, but her look of surprise faded as she reminded herself of just who she was dealing with. When the grimness returned to her face, she turned away from her guest and peered out at the same superficial pleasantries of the Presidium which Aria had her eyes set irefully upon. Softly and austerely, Tevos said to her, "Then she has made a fool of you."
Her comment only seemed to vex Aria more. Not only was she learning that her spy, whoever it was, had been feeding her false information, but also that the asari councilor was far more aware of the situation than she was, which was completely unacceptable.
"Well," Aria bitterly responded, "the fight now has to be taken to them, obviously."
The councilor reestablished eye contact. "And just how will we go about that?" she doubtfully asked. "This should not be perceived as a fight, Aria, but as a misunderstanding or a clash of interests. It should be solved civilly, if we can."
Aria appeared as if she had tasted something vile. "You severely misunderstand. I have no desire to join their little game of subterfuge and get caught up in their ridiculous cloak-and-dagger politics. If they're really up to something I want it ended now. And I'm going to do that by putting them in a position where they will find no other choice but to back off." She pulled away from the window, reorienting her body toward Tevos. "I want to confront them directly. Publicly. In front of the entire galaxy so that all will see the irony of being accused of crimes which many expected myself to commit. I'll watch them squirm..."
While Aria seemed quite satisfied with her reflexive, vengeful plan, Tevos was not so convinced of its wisdom. "And if they disavow such conspiracies only to continue them in secret, what then? You antagonize them instead of placating them." She turned her body to mutually face Aria's, leaving the window and its soothing resplendence to pour over her side. "Are you investing in a future where you fall and our people look back to your notorious question, resulting in the condemnation of the 'entity of our interest'? When you're dead, how will you collect the sympathies of the galaxy? Will you be receiving formal apology letters lain upon your grave?"
Aria's temperament, as Tevos saw, was beginning to flare into anger again. "I want High Com—"
On instinct, Tevos raised a hand and tentatively in action, yet boldly in nature, halted Aria's assertion by swiftly placing a few fingers to her lips. Aria's evident distaste at being silenced, let alone touched in that fashion, prompted Tevos to immediately remove her hand as soon as its job of hushing the other asari had been completed.
"Please," she said as quietly as possible, "do not explicitly refer to them."
Aria's disdain was unfortunately not subdued any significant amount, but she complied with the councilor's ban on uttering Asari High Command's name. "I want them out of the picture now," she hissed instead. "If they're striking at me I'm going to do the same to them in a manner that hurts them most: through negative publicity. No one wants to hear about how their contingent government is endangering their security by prodding at the heart of the Terminus Systems with their fucking greed."
"If I recall correctly," Tevos noted, "you boldly abused a similar paradigm of deception years ago."
She glared. "Yes, but I had no intentions to colonize this hellhole."
"Mind you that 'colonize' is a very, very inaccurate word in this situation."
"Captured under their imperial umbrella, then. Whatever terminology satisfies your pedantic fetish," Aria irritably growled, wishing to escape the tangent. "I am going on the offensive. If you won't be joining in during my little address to our friends, so be it. So at this point, you have a few choices. Accompany me in my accusation, be absent from it and leave our friends to their embarrassment alone, or get them out of Omega yourself by handling this privately. Within the next few days, preferably."
Councilor Tevos spent a moment processing Aria's suggestions before they malignantly settled into her heart, and she was made indignant by them. She was by no means a rash or violent woman, but there came a point when even her patience waned so thin that she began to actually consider reproachfully hitting Aria over the head with the datapad still clutched in her hand. The primitive urge was easily suppressed—for the sake of maturity, etiquette, and sensibility—but its very ignition was in and of itself a detection of a foul deal indeed.
Aria's disparaging, domineering attitude toward the asari councilor had been tolerated far beyond what Tevos would have normally allowed for anyone, and even after incredible leniency Aria still insisted on issuing orders. Effacing her great displeasure behind her usual cold disposition, she expressed her grievance. "I am going to lengths to help you, yet you remain insistent on treating me as if I were a common pawn in your plans."
Her frigid tone caught Aria's curiosity and attention, at the very least.
"You dare present me with an ultimatum after I have been so generous to you?" Tevos asked her, sounding more incredulous than offended. "You dare continue to treat me so impertinently, as if my power and influence in galactic matters is so comparatively little to yours? You, Aria T'Loak... seem to be living within quite the myopic delusion." She tore her eyes away from Aria's mildly intrigued ones and returned her desk, but did not sit down and instead lingered standing beside her chair.
"A delusion?" Aria repeated as if drawing humor from the notion. "I made no comment on your power, only on what actions you can feasibly consider at this point. If you're so sensitive and insecure about your authority maybe my denigrating isn't so inappropriate after all."
This gave Tevos pause. She finally faced Aria again, eyes and posture full of dignity with her lips pressed firmly together. "My qualm does not lie in my self-security," she said, "but in your refusal to give me the amount of respect I deserve. I am not lesser than you, nor would I dare attempt equating us for we reside in different niches of the galaxy altogether. But basic respect for a fellow leader of similar capacity should easily transcend barriers of culture and distance. If you find giving me the respect I demand an impossible feat, you will in turn receive little from me."
Aria had folded her arms in wicked amusement, and replied to the councilor in animated derision, "Well I suppose I must concede, because I couldn't imagine a worse fate—to not have the respect of the exalted asari councilor...!"
Yet another moment passed wherein Tevos was choked by indignation, hardly able to process the insults being dealt to someone of her rank.
"I will not stand for this," the councilor rigidly stated. "If your presence were not imperative at the moment, I would have you ejected from my office." She tore her eyes away, positively flooded with disdain. Never mind whatever strange affinity for Aria had lingered into the present. Accompanying it, inconveniently, were also all the things about Aria which she condemned. And there was no shortage of those—perhaps even enough to restore complete neutrality through cancellation.
"You don't think I respect you?" Aria inquired from her position by the window. Mockery still tainted her tone.
Tevos said nothing at first, nor did she turn to address her guest. Instead she recalled a conclusion she had arrived at a few days previously, and spoke as if her words were as curious to herself as they were to their recipient, "No. That is not what I think." She thoughtfully considered, then slowly looked back at Aria, who hadn't altered her stance. "No. I think you do respect me, but only refuse to admit it. Perhaps you're threatened by me."
"Threatened by you?" Aria scoffed, letting her arms fall back to her sides. "And you accuse me of living in a delusion..."
"But it's not delusional at all," argued Tevos. "You so intensely pride yourself on your ability to intimidate every ally or adversary you encounter. Your self-image is grand and glorious and there is no one who could fairly best you in any arena, any faculty. You reduce everyone around you who poses a threat or rival, to discourage them from challenging you, from objecting to your whims. And so shame on me if I ever allow you to minimize my self-perception into anything less than what I am."
The accusation had secured Aria's utmost interest, enough to render her attentively listening with what Tevos dared to identify as fascination.
"It is your desperate attempt to assert yourself over me," Tevos iterated, finding herself unable to stop expressing her long list of grievances once she had began. Fifty years came rushing forth as she finally found all the words necessary to describe their behavior over that vast amount of time. "We struggle to secure the superior hand, passive-aggressively monitoring one another's activities and comparing them to our own achievements. Well, it has gone on for long enough. It is counterproductive and immature. One moment we are collaborating with absolutely no trouble to speak of, often more swiftly and effectively than when I work with my own colleagues, but a time always and tragically comes when our efforts screech to a halt because we cannot bear to think of the other as being the prime arbiter of our projects. And so we squander our time and energy—arguing in circles, deceiving, bartering with one another. Hoping to find that rare foothold which will bring one of us to stand triumphantly over the other." She cast her eyes away in a downward glance, collecting her thoughts again before spilt forth again in discordance. When she looked up at Aria, she gently shook her head. "Enough, Aria. We can't afford to remain a moment longer mired in our own self-destructive pride."
Your pride, she silently added in an afterthought, but would not voice it and have the somewhat hypocritical comment undermine her statement.
Aria's glare was upon her, but she made no motions against the councilor. How brash Tevos had been; sending verbal daggers at Omega's powerful, frightful emissary who forever lied complacent on the veranda of war. One more call to war, no matter the identity of the challenger or the size of her armies, would be drowned out by all of history's chronicled tales of strife, reduced to nothing but a banal murmur in the barracks. The asari councilor stood her ground as well as behind her words, defending them with her own resilience, but now Aria approached. Tevos could not help but reflexively steel herself for fear of what confrontation might come.
Aria accosted her, arriving to a stop at a distance slightly too close for comfort. A tiny stirring in Tevos's hands—her urge to raise them and halt Aria from drawing any closer—was repressed, for it would only have revealed her unease. And unease was exactly what Aria was trying to elicit. Her confrontation was threateningly augmented with a slight forward lean, bringing her face right up to the councilor's at a small arresting tilt. Altogether, it took every ounce of Tevos's resolve to keep from shrinking away in a chagrined fluster.
"Tell me what you want again," Aria said. "Tell me what it is you want from me." She was a wall of dormant force, steady and focused at once—the warlord with innumerable lives, weapons, and credits carried upon her shoulders and holding that monstrous weight aloft, capriciously. Then, Tevos read something a bit softer, or possibly imagined it: a tinge of imploring, searching, wishing to receive a specific reply that would rejuvenate what respect had suffered decay through absence. Much doubt had festered over time.
So is it a dare or a compromise? The thought flitted through the councilor's mind as she privately—frantically—tried to discern the intent of her request. More likely the former, she decided.
"I demand you treat me with proper respect," Tevos clarified. "I am not your minion. It has been proven that our united capabilities are a force to be reckoned with, but if I'm automatically deferring to your judgment, my contributions become stifled. It doesn't serve you to presume you hold all the answers. The very opposite was shown just moments ago. You've seen the holes in your perception, Aria. Would you consciously neglect to fill them? Actually, don't answer that. You will not be deciding whether I should take an active or servile role. You will be deciding whether I collaborate with you as an equal, or not at all. That is my ultimatum to you."
Neither moved at first. The stillness was only terminated when Aria averted her blank expression from the brave, stationary councilor, and stood down from her intimidating loom. She leaned against Tevos's desk instead, not a pace away, and folded her arms.
And what does that mean? Tevos pondered, a bit relieved at the fading hostility, but perturbed at Aria's lack of explicit confirmation. Was that just her way of agreeing to another's terms without having to verbally concede and grant the other party the satisfaction they desired?
"I'm not going to cowardly sit in the shadows," Aria said at length. "I'm not going to speculate and hide indefinitely while an enemy may be advancing. I will be taking measures to safeguard against them, and our best option is using the public as a buffer between me and... those friends. Threats of outrage will certainly dampen their confidence if they're up to something."
"But we haven't a shred of real proof," Tevos pointed out. "The worst that could be said of them is their secretive conventions. Shouting out unsubstantiated suspicions will make us appear... deranged, and we will gain neither sympathy nor cause for rally against 'our friends'. You will seem volatile and paranoid while I will seem impulsive and unreasonable for so quickly siding with a Terminus Space crime lord without a clear and proper motivation. The reaction would be horrendous for our relations and my reputation. And it is well within your interests to preserve me as much as I desire to preserve you. If my competency is questionable enough I can be removed, and you will no longer be able to take advantage of my generosity."
"And a different asari councilor wouldn't feel the need to keep our treaty in place?"
"Mind you that my friend Irissa is a viable, favored replacement. And she still dislikes you with great intensity." Tevos knew that Irissa was not cold-hearted enough to act against Aria, especially since Tevos always expressed her stubborn support of maintaining peaceful and honest relations. In actuality, Irissa would most definitely help Aria in times of need instead of betraying her to High Command's behests—but Aria didn't need to know that at the moment.
"So you come to me with this information," said Aria, her voice increasing in volume and in displeasure as she faced Tevos, "and you tell me that I cannot act upon it?"
"You cannot attack anyone, Aria. But you can brace yourself and take defensive measures. The two are remarkably different."
"And just how do you suppose I go about that?"
"The first thing you can do is lift your ban on Spectres. I hoped divulging you in this important information was an adequate token of good faith to prove our friendliness." Tevos stood erect, staring into the harsh blue eyes that burned into her own as she prepared to make a dire request; the primary objective of their meeting. She delivered it with surgical precision. "The second thing you can do... is grant me access to names of operatives in your syndicate. I can run comparisons and alert you to any familiar names I find."
"Of course you want that," Aria bitterly said. "Of course. That's why we're here. So you can manipulate the situation, shove your nose into Omega's business and—"
"—and potentially save your life," Tevos stressed in exasperation. "I am still astounded at how conservatively you clutch your intelligence. You give me nothing, Aria. You give me absolutely nothing unless I'm willing to barter my integrity away through your attempted bribery and countless other scams. Do you honestly still suspect that I'm trying to force Citadel presence on Omega? You won't even directly answer that question. For you answer nothing I ask. Nothing of great consequence. I still do not know if you continue to see me as an enemy. I still do not know if you are willing to respect me as an equal." Her breath nearly caught in her throat as she summoned the courage to delineate a certain question plaguing her, unanswered for far too long: "And I still don't know why you refuse to speak of what happened during our last meeting."
Aria only emerged from her motionless stance to unfold her arms and place her hands on the edges of the councilor's desk, leering over at the owner with a vicious, empty fact forming on her lips. And before she gave it, anticipation welled up in Tevos's fretting chest and it was as if the entire world had come to ominously wrap around Aria alone.
"Nothing that I could have said," Aria meticulously began, choosing her words like the careful selection of poisons, "would have ever mirrored the effect absolute silence had on you."
So few words had stabbed her so thoroughly. There was pain, there was strange dejection, but most of all, there was anger. Anger at being disregarded, manipulated, forgotten... For the second time that hour, Tevos wanted to throw Aria out of her office. Miraculously, she didn't.
"Very well," she alternatively said, smothering down a hitch in her voice by determination alone. "But you still need to consider how I could help you by screening operatives for unusual associations. There is in fact a chance we could locate a potential traitor to your syndicate without their detection, and you will then have the opportunity to capture them. I'm sure you're in dire need of a productive interrogation."
"It is interesting, though," Aria began in a sly but venomous tone that immediately alerted Tevos to the slight irrelevancy of her coming statement, "to have not lost your attention. The passage of years, combined with the adversity I tend to attract, are usually enough to deter anyone."
Tevos frowned. "I appreciate you being so vocal about this all of a sudden, but I believe that subject has passed us."
The look Aria gave her suggested otherwise, sabotaging Tevos's decision to move on from that topic. But Tevos refused to humor her, even after she spent a brief instant wondering whether she had possibly misinterpreted Aria's answer. If it was not a revelation of ruthless manipulation used to mildly addle Tevos's judgement of Aria over the past half-century, what was it? Aria sounded oddly intrigued... There was more to her words than their unfeeling pretense. Hidden substrata of motive lied out of reach, embedded deeply within Aria's refusal to give away any more information than what was absolutely needed. But what was there? Some surviving interest belying her remote disposition, stubbornly defied so that she could maintain control over the situation?
Tevos decisively severed her trail of thought. She would not dwell on it longer than necessary. Rather, she wanted nothing more than to return to the concern at hand. Complicating something already too complex to make a figment of sense out of was not a lucrative goal, and amidst all the clouds of confusion circulating Tevos's head, one thing remained faithfully constant: she was pragmatic and reasonable, and this current topic was not.
"Will you accept my help or not?" she asked Aria.
Aria permitted her to redirect their conversation. "If I do accept your help," she replied, "I wouldn't hand over any information where we are now. Even in your own office you're too terrified to even speak the name of the people we're talking about. What does that say about your confidence in your security? Some of the information you request from me has never been seen by any other eyes. If you seriously want to help me, you need to do better than this."
"I'm going to have my office swept multiple times by separate groups of C-Sec to account for intentional deception. But on such short notice, you know there are very few available settings where we can conduct business. I cannot leave the Citadel to pursue a conference with you, and it is terribly unlikely that I could even meet you somewhere on the Presidium without having a dozen C-Sec guards hovering over my shoulder. Quite literally, if I might add. There is nowhere else, Aria. We may have to take the risk right here."
"There's really nowhere else? Nowhere you can think of? I find that hard to believe."
Tevos folded her arms in thought, lifting a few slender fingers to rest upon her bottom lip as she mentally listed every location she could think of. There was simply nowhere they could go where C-Sec would not stand vigilantly present or where they could both enjoy the near-certitude of having no extra ears or eyes monitoring their business. But total secrecy was imperative. No one could be informed of their private meetings, else every plan they contrived would be rendered useless.
Nothing less than a subterranean bunker would suffice, Tevos wearily thought. Some personal haven exclusive to those deliberately invited.
A solution struck her then... but it was not an ideal one. It was an abject one, rather. The very last solution Tevos would have ever considered, let alone agreed to, but the situation demanded it to be proposed as a possible site for their usage. To preserve the sacred secrecy of the location, Tevos lifted the datapad they had recently used from her desk, opened a blank document, and typed out her suggestion:
There is one location removed from the watchful eyes of guards and devices. I know how this will sound to you. I am terribly aware of that, but it is the only place that satisfies our demand for secrecy. If you can conceive a way to visit me at my apartment this evening without the notice of C-Sec, we can continue our business there.
She passed the datapad to Aria, who took it in hand and began to read. Tevos watched her, intently studying her expression in anticipation of her reaction. Aria's behavior hardly deviated from her pessimistic expectation. She turned her vivid eyes away from the text, locking them with the councilor's. Then, an amused sound escaped her lips while her face lit up with tainted delight. Her shoulders lightly quivered as a laugh rose from her body, quietly at first, and ended in resonating cruelty. Tevos received the datapad again when Aria began to find its contents too humorous to look upon any longer.
"You requested a reasonable location," Tevos said, firmly objecting to Aria's reaction, "and I have suggested the only one I can think of. I fail to see how you find it so amusing."
After Aria had shed the last grips of her rare laughter, she replied, "What a grand plan. All from the councilor who jumps in fright at the very word scandal."
"Do you approve of this suggestion or not?" Tevos pressed her, struggling to fight away the warmth of abashment creeping into her cheeks.
Aria calmly monitored Tevos with a speculative gaze for quite some time, a ghost of an entertained smile still holding onto her lips. It brought an anxious, irked pain to the asari councilor's mood, but she concealed it with grace as she awaited her guest's answer.
It was going to be yes. Like in many other conversations, she could detect subtle signs of agreement surfacing in Aria's features. An openness to an alternate, unanticipated solution. An openness to possibility and to outlandish outcome. To what strange and inexplicable ends their company would bring; the unfolding resurrection of things they had once defaulted amnesiac to for the sake of practicality.
Tevos returned to her chair, to her datapad, and began typing out a well-organized list of detailed steps which could be taken to ensure Aria's success in evading security during her journey to the aforementioned, forbidden destination. As seconds passed while she briskly entered characters, she began to feel slightly panicked at what instructions manifested at her fingertips. Tevos could feel Aria hovering over her shoulder, curiously spectating the birth of their plan. She misspelled a word, corrected it, moved on, and committed similar errors multiple times afterward. This drove her to pause. She collected herself, looked up from the datapad for a reprieve, but found herself sparing Aria a glance. When she saw the amusement in Aria's eyes, she instantly tore her gaze away.
This new turn of events had seemed to quell any lasting anger or indomitable reservations Aria had toward divulging Tevos in her most treasured and guarded intelligence. No longer was Aria the one surrendering more to their collaboration—this invitation to the councilor's living space was simply too rich, too magnificent a sin to not take advantage of.
:::
TO: LISELLE KASANTIS
FROM: ARIA T'LOAK
SUBJECT: Orders
ATTACHMENT: COORDINATES, BUILD. PLAN 1
Despite the Patriarch's failure to pass on any new information, your chat with him was not completely wasteful. After reading the report of your mission, a thought occurred to me when bounty hunting guilds were mentioned. Many independent organizations lie on the edges of my territory, and although they do not officially defer to me, they tend to respect my enterprises and wishes. However, that mutual understanding must now come into suspicion, because this particular group of bounty hunters do in fact possess all the equipment and skills necessary to carry out elaborate assassinations.
I checked the armor the dead assailants wore. In particular, the green nodules dotting the limbs and chest areas (we recognized them to be components of a new, experimental shield generator) were consistent with what some bounty hunter guilds have been ordering from arms dealers over the past few months. I want to know what they're up to. I want access to their records; their hit lists, clients, and alliances.
The heart of Denar Calan's guild is located on the outskirts of the Zeta District. You'll find the details about the exact location in an attachment to this message. I've also managed to supply you with a floor plan of the building itself. A vital resource, since you will be extracting data from their terminals. Rasma Visiom is properly equipped for the job, but it's up to you all to find a way in and out of the building with all the information I want. Do not alert them to your allegiance to me—they have no way of knowing that you aren't just throwing my name around to steal their records and put them out of business as a rival guild of some sort. They'll likely kick you out on the spot, or even try to kill you if you reveal your objective to them.
Plan this out carefully, use diversions and your own initiative, and have escape routes prepared.
.
The company of three stood deep within the dead-end alleyway hewn into the Zeta District's dismal walls of commerce. Winding pipes and wires crawled along the chaotic spires, dipping and bending along their faces with the confidence of vine growth. There were sporadic leaks in the pipes here and there many meters above, their streams placidly dripping through their damaged conduits and settling down in a slick veneer over the metal walls that luridly glistened in the minimal light. Repairs had obviously been procrastinated for some time, but the unwelcoming atmosphere furthermore concealed the trio from passerby gazes, as was intended. And the only eye in the darkness still trained upon their position was blind; naught but a lone camera frozen in time by the wary Rasma Visiom.
As they spent their time lingering in the damp shadows, they assessed whether or not the setting was adequate to discuss strategy in. Liselle, particularly, found the area to be quite acceptable almost immediately, and consequentially failed to grasp the extent of her other companions' paranoia. Her optimism tainted her judgment, for it had awoken from a long slumber with endless zeal that morning upon receiving genuine orders from her mother. Not a menial consultation, not a daft scavenger hunt, but an actual, dignified task involving the careful infiltration of a notorious bounty hunter headquarters and purloin of their useful information. Such youthful, foolish pride coursed through her body at the opportunity, and nothing could quell the eagerness rising in her heart. Not even the dangerous reality of the mission shouted loud enough to speak over the delightful pounding in her chest. And so intense were her racing thoughts that Liselle was momentarily deaf to Rasma's words when the turian finally began to speak, and the girl gave her full attention only when her eyes traced the colored light of an omni-tool projecting the image of a building and its primary construction plans.
"The terminal of interest is here," said Rasma, pointing at the slowly-rotating image to draw their sight to a specific room. "The administrator's terminal, in Calan's office. It houses all the files we need. All that any other terminal would give us is small bits sent from this main one. If we hit this one, we'll have all that Aria wants. To get the intelligence, we'll use a certain hacking program I've worked with for the past few years to plant a data mining virus in the terminal that'll continuously siphon any information stored—and whatever updates Calan makes in the future—to us, and without his notice. I reiterate: without his notice. That is imperative. If he suspects even for a moment that his security has been compromised, Calan will likely wipe everything and we will no longer be able to monitor hunter activities." She began to manipulate the holographic model, tracing possible routes through the halls and rooms leading to the office. "The problem," she began again, her expression darkening, "is getting into the office undetected, of course. The hunters have established a bit of a community here, and many frequent the building during every hour of the day. All armed, all experienced, and all unaligned with any Omegan power save for themselves."
"So dropping Aria's name really isn't going to get us anywhere, then," Malak grimly remarked. He folded his arms.
"That's correct," Rasma verified. "They're prone to shoot at anyone save Aria herself, and even if she was here I doubt they'd delay a panicked destruction of any evidence that could expose them for acting against her. Obviously, we're going to have to be discreet about this. We're going to have to find a way to lure Calan out of his office, slip someone in there while he's gone, and abscond without anyone noticing."
"A distraction, then?" Liselle offered, recalling what Aria had suggested. "To occupy Calan long enough for someone to get the records, right?"
"We're going to have to use one, yes," said Rasma, turning her green eyes onto the young asari. "From the intel Aria's already gathered about this place, we know that Calan only deals with mercenaries and bounty hunters in the main lobby, and on top of that, the only time he'll work with someone face-to-face is when they're very important clients or hirelings. The lobby is right here." She indicated the mentioned area with an index finger. "It doubles as a lounge where mercs go to waste their time and money on alcohol and gambling. If we can pretend that we're there to sign up for a bounty, and if we choose the worst bastard on the hit list, Calan might grant us an audience to discuss details and pay."
They all spent a moment within their own minds, surrounded by the delicate sound of water dripping from heights and hitting the weaving pipes and metal ground below. The patters echoed throughout the tall, dour corridor. Rasma continued to immerse herself in the building's layout as her two companions stared blankly at the glowing orange model, trying to call upon their resources of creative thinking for a viable plan of action.
"What about this?" Malak spoke up, pulling one arm out of its cross over his chest to gesture at the ventilation system within the building. He traced the vents and their branching routes with a pointed digit. "Didn't those assholes who attacked Aria use this sort of strategy to do it? They avoided the cameras and everything."
"That's... a very clever idea, actually," Rasma conceded to him, focusing intensely on the model. "The vents circulate the air in the building, and one leads to every single room. We'd have complete access, and like you said, the evasion of cameras. We can put someone in there while the other two distract Calan, have the lone one drop down into his office, hack his terminal, and climb back out."
After further examination, Rasma turned away from them, leaving them in the shadows as the radius of light emitted from her omni-tool departed with her. Liselle and Malak watched her wander over to the side of the building where she stopped and lifted her head to scour the walls. Beyond her silhouette, the dim Omegan horizon bled through the spaces between towers near and far. Over the course of a few seconds, Rasma would methodically glance down at her omni-tool, then at the building again until she appeared to discover what she was searching for. When she had, she motioned for her allies to join her. They did as she requested, leaving the murky darkness of the deep alley to emerge into the weak, rust-hued light.
"Right here," Rasma said to them, pointing up at an inconspicuous square of grating mounted above, presumably leading directly into the headquarters. "This will get someone into the building. So—would anyone like to volunteer?" She turned her body to face them both.
The exchanged uncertain glances, and none of them said anything for next few unsettling seconds.
"You're the only one who knows how to hack terminals well," said Malak. "You'd really let us risk screwing this up?"
"The program I've brought for this job has been incredibly streamlined," she replied. "Aria has thrown piles of credits at its development over the past several years, and her investment has returned well. It's a lock-and-key style interface. All you have to do is request permission to view and alter a terminal's data cache, and of course, it'll request certain encrypted passwords. Usually the owner's ID. What this program does is essentially construct an alpha-numerical representation of the 'lock', and the user of the program only needs to find the corresponding 'key'. You're just reading lines of code, Lekahn. Match the letters, numbers, and colors."
He appeared unhappy with the explanation, but seemed to understand. "So... who's going in? I don't think I'd be able to." He rapped his knuckles onto the breastplate of his armor twice to produce a distinct knocking sound. "It's not exactly stealth if everyone in the building hears me banging around in the vents right above their heads. And as for you, Visiom... You're a little too... pointy."
The turian glowered, unamused at the reference to her anatomy. Malak was right, of course; the many jutting extremities of her hard turian carapace, such as her joints and collarbones, would inevitably compromise her location sooner or later even with the padding of her light armor to help muffle the noise. Unless Rasma glacially crawled along the ventilation system's interior, of course, but they did not possess the luxury of excess time to accommodate such a sluggish pace. With all other options eliminated for practicality and efficacy, all eyes gradually found themselves trained upon the third member of their trio, who had stood passively silent for the past minute or so.
Liselle's gaze darted back and forth between Rasma and Malak before understanding what they intended for her. "You want me to do this?" she asked them. All too suddenly, her eagerness for the mission abandoned her in a flurry of disillusionment. Glory was not so easily found in a system of dark vents suspended directly over a pit of dangerous hit men, she came to soberly realize.
"You're perfect for this," Rasma insisted. "You're smaller than either of us, so you'll fit into the vents with little problem. And you're wearing commando attire. You'll be utterly noiseless."
The girl drew in a brave breath, taking a final glance at their faces before arriving to the conclusion of her fate being virtually sealed. She was the most appropriate candidate for the job, and it was a vital job indeed. "Yeah, I'll do it," she agreed at last. "But I might need you to explain the program a little more—we probably only have one shot at this."
"That's correct, and I won't be able to help you once you're in Calan's office," said the turian. "Speaking of which, we need a signal to alert you of the moment when Calan's out and greeting us. Something that won't sound suspicious or out of place..." She trailed off to think. "Lekahn, do you carry a lighter?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Give it to Liselle."
"What?"
"Calan's an old-school batarian," Rasma explained. "If we're here for important business he's going to offer us cigars. That'll be our signal. You'll ask me for a lighter once we're sitting down with Calan. Liselle will be right over our heads, listening, and when she hears the signal she'll know it's safe to proceed. I need you to give Liselle your lighter because when we go into the building, they're going to search us. I highly doubt they'll ask us to hand over our weapons, but they'll want to know what we're carrying. If they find a lighter on you only to hear you ask for one a few minutes later, it'll sound odd. And with a bit of bad luck, Calan might be skittish enough to call off the meeting. I've done a lot of work with assassins, and they're easily some of the most paranoid people in the galaxy. We can never be too thorough."
Malak shoved a hand into one of his pockets and relinquished a small metal lighter to Liselle, who carefully stowed it away.
"All right," said Rasma, mentally surveying the situation to make sure all was accounted for. "Liselle has a map in her omni-tool to navigate the vents, we have an all-clear signal... Ah, yes. In the case of emergency, say if Calan returns early for some reason, we'll try our best to give you warning. If that happens, even if you're in the middle of hacking his terminal, I want you to escape as quickly as you can. If we fail today Aria can always send someone else to try the same thing, but if they find out who we are and what we're doing, there's no telling how Calan will make it impossibly hard for the next group to succeed. Keep this in mind. Now, Liselle, you wanted me to explain the program again? All right, listen closely..."
Several minutes were sacrificed to Liselle's education, but they were well-utilized. She was quick to understand the details and procedures Rasma outlined to her, and only after they could no longer conceive and provide solutions to a hypothetical conditions where something went wrong did they end the lecture, repeat their entire plan of action once more to achieve impeccable consensus, and went to work in the three-part machine they had incisively designed in that alley. Liselle used her biotics to pull the metal grating out of place before receiving a boost up into the ventilation system from the reluctant Malak, who interlocked his fingers together to form an elevated step. Once she had successfully climbed into the vent, she managed to turn around in the cramped space to face her two squadmates, who sought her confirmation.
"Ready, then?" Malak asked her, and promptly received a nod from the asari. "Good, let's stop skulking around this alley already..."
Rasma and Malak departed, rounding the corner of the building to head toward its main entrance where they would be greeted by the mercenaries serving as guards. Meanwhile, Liselle brought her legs close to her chest, and with a slightly strained face, turned around once again to face the darkness of the vents. When she became still, she could hear the faint sound of speech too indistinct to be translated, accompanied by echoes of the occasional creak originating far off into the heart of the cold maze, likely caused by the expanding and condensing of the cheap metal as its temperature rose and fell over time. And there was a hum, a low industrial hum; water running through pipes, or perhaps the activity of a power generator. But the loudest sound of all was that of her own hushed breaths, amplified by the closed space and spitefully reflecting back to her the reality of her own rising apprehension.
With a final deep breath to calm her fears and uncertainty, Liselle began her bold foray into enemy territory, paying respect to the asari commandos and infiltrators she aspired to rival one day by placing every step on hand and knee in utter silence, all without losing an inconvenient amount of speed. As she rounded the first corner, it rapidly became quite patent that the inky darkness enclosing her was thick enough to invoke a craving for the fiery light of her omni-tool, which she summoned with a few taps to her forearm and brandished like a torch to illuminate her way.