Sorry for the delay since the last chapter guys, I had a really awful javascript assignment and it took longer than I'd expected. That's on top of Valentine's Day and the Pharmacology Midterm I have coming up. This chapter isn't super long, but the feedback I received is that you'd rather not wait to get the longer chapters anyhow. I've made a decision on the romance, you guys will hopefully see it next chapter. Anyhow, here is Chapter 11, let us be off.

An Unknown Location - Councilor Sparatus

Sparatus had been left with a bag on his head for whatever amount of time had passed since he'd woken up. While he had no idea where he was or who was holding him, he did have some sense of what was going on around him. He was tied down to what felt like a cold steel table and had restraints on all of his limbs and one around his midsection. Any voices he heard around him were hushed, but there were a mix of males and females, or Asari he supposed.

He had periodically received injections which he hoped were just painkillers, but realistically were probably a mix of truth serums made for Turians and the painkillers he knew he must be receiving. He was so sure because despite being shot, his legs didn't hurt at all. Additionally he had felt himself receiving new dressings for the wounds, and from the way his legs were able to move (his movement was restricted by the restraints) his mobility would be limited at best. He was unsure if he's been operated on to repair possible damage to the muscles and ligaments and he was medically immobilized or if his captors were letting the damage the bullets had done become permanent.

He sincerely hoped the damage wouldn't be. As much as the Turian people respected wounded veterans, which his wounds would be considered 'for the cause' and all, their was also an unintentional aura of pity. The last thing a proud Turian wanted was to see others look at them in such a manner. They were still Turians, still had the same wants and desires, respect was valued, but pity would accomplish little beyond making him feel less than whole.

He'd spent the time since he regained consciousness trying to figure out who it was that had attacked and kidnapped him. He had supposed it could be the allies of Reapers, but he doubted it. Not only had he not seen evidence or even heard of them possessing special forces, it seemed unlike how Shepard had described them. They seemed to prefer overwhelming force and total war, not subterfuge. He next thought of the Alliance, but they seemed unlikely as well. As strange as it would seem, he was the closest thing to an ally the humans had these days. He would have found the unlikely alliance of their species funny, but he remained aware of his current predicament.

He doubted it was the Batarians, they held no love for the Turians or the Citadel, but it was the humans they resented. The Salarians too now that they were suspected of destroying the Bahak relay. It had to be either the Asari, Salarians, or some terrorist/splinter group. He refused to contemplate what it would mean if one of the original council races had taken him, the results would be too catastrophic. And if it were in fact a terror group who was holding him, his chances of survival were near zero and figuring out who they were was waste of time. There were too many to figure it out.

When he heard footsteps coming up he to him he assumed they would be for the same things as every other visit he'd received, redressing his wounds or new injections. He was left reeling when his visitor pulled off his hood. It had been made of a heavy material which allowed little light to pass through, and its removal was both blinding and painful to eyes seeing their first light in days. He was left reeling in the bright light and was barely able to see an outline of the figure before him. Not Salarian. A deep male voice boomed in his face, "The Council did Bakak didn't it?" He didn't respond, unable to immediately place the meaning of the question and unable to speak after days of silence.

Sparatus felt the sudden impact of what he could only assume was a fist into his stomach, the air he had inside of his lungs was quickly evacuated as he was left without oxygen. "I want an answer bird man!"

He saw the blow before he felt it. Although his vision remained poor and limited, the fist flying toward his face blocked out enough light for him to anticipate the punch. Sparatus turned his head to lessen the blow and felt pain sear through the side of his head. "You blew up the relay! Or did you have your pathetic slimy lizard friends do it for you?!"

Sparatus shook his head and managed to squeeze an answer out of his still empty lungs, "No idea…what you're talking about…."

He felt a hand grasp itself around his neck, fingers, not talons. They weren't Turians. "If you don't give me an answer I'll have to bring in some help. Let us just say that he isn't as…blunt as me. Prefers more precision instruments." Sparatus shuddered, imagining one of these idiots coming at him with a knife.

He would have spat in the bastard's face but his mouth was too dry, so he settled for the next best thing. Sparatus chuckled as loudly as he could in his weakened state, "You should go home and ask your mother young man, I think I left the answer with her."

He heard a roar of anger at his meager attempt at rebellion, a fist came screaming toward him faster than before. Without time to turn and avoid the blow Sparatus took the strike directly in his face. He felt a mandible tear upon being twisted out of place, blood poured down his chin and onto the table below him. Sparatus' vision finally started to normalize.

As his captor's face came into view he was faced with what he had just figured out based upon the questions he was asked. It was the Batarians who had him. Fuck.

Unnamed New Quarian Homeward - Shala'Raan

Shala gazed at her fellow admirals around her. This was possibly the most important moment for their people in 200 years. The vote that would take place in the next few moments would determine who filled the vacant seat on the Admiralty Board. Who filled that seat in turn determined how the Quarian people would respond to the opportunity presented by having a homeworld. They would either build, grow, and defend their new home as she and Koris desired, or they would use the planet as a base from which to strike at the Geth, as Xen and Gerrel desired. The room they were sitting in had none of the simple elegance of the Council's private discussion room, nor the grand size and bold tones of Arcturus Station's parliamentary chamber. It was a square room in their prefabricated capital. Thin tin walls surrounded them and they sat at a small table far too small for four people.

The table had been Korris' doing. It had been the first piece of furniture built from raw materials of their new planet and he had hoped it would function as a symbol of their future here and the opportunity the planet presented. His hopes had been those of an idealist however, Xen described it as "impractical and a wasteful use of resources". Gerrel was even harsher in his analysis, "A small table for a small man" he had declared. Raan complemented Koris, but it had been a fool's gesture, she knew that.

They were in the room to send nominations for the Board to the Conclave. Any Quarian could nominate any other for the open slot, but there were requirements they had to meet. The Board verified nominees met these requirements before forwarding the eligible candidates to the Conclave, noting each Admiral's favored candidate.

She began, "So we are agreed that Tali'Zorah is a legitimate candidate for this board whose name will indeed be placed before the Conclave for voting?"

Xen didn't hesitate to begin her case against the move, "We have not had an admiral so young in 140 years. Even without an official rule against one so young, such youth would be a mistake."

"Xen, we went over this, Tali meets every minimum requirement. It is not the role of this meeting to determine if she is the right candidate, so much as it is to determine whether she meets the requirements. Please, can we agree that this is the task we are bestowed before the next meeting of the conclave?"

Koris and Gerrel both nodded their assent. "Good, we have a majority, let us move on. Gerrel, how is the heavy fleet doing in setting up planetary defenses?"

"The task is different than we're used to, the physics inevitably change when we're not floating around without gravity. However, now that we have adjusted our system we should have a planetary anti-ship defense system in the next week or so."

Everyone around the table seemed satisfied by the news, Raan wanted to get the Conclave's decision as fast as possible, "Unless we have further business to discuss, it is appropriate if we put forward the verified nominations for the empty seat on this board. Do we have any final objections?"

Xen remained fuming as she knew what Tali's selection to the board would do to her plans for war, but there was nothing she could do about it. "Very well, I will send the head of the Conclave our approved nominations and we shall wait here to listen for a decision." Raan entered the names into her omni-tool and sent them to the head captain of the Conclave. His position was more of a parliamentarian than a Prime Minister, unlike the humans. As she waited she mused over whether that would change. The Quarians had possessed a robust planet wide democracy prior to their war with the Geth, it was only being driven into space that had changed that. Plus, most of the important decisions for her people were made by the Conclave, it was really only fleet transit and war decisions that were made by the Admirals.

As time passed and she continued to wait for the head captain to send her the Conclave's decision she glanced around the room. Koris and Gerrel were both turned around and staring blankly at the walls behind their seats, Shala thought that they may be looking at their helmet's HUDs, but she could not know for sure. It turned out that Xen on the other hand was quite transparent about what she was doing. She was staring directly at Raan. She wasn't sure how long Xen had been staring, it may have been the entire time they'd been waiting for a decision. Xen knew what she was trying to do with the nomination of Tali and was less than pleased about it.

Shala was sure Gerrel knew her plan as well, but whether his lack of visible ire was due to his positive feelings about his best friend Rael's daughter or confidence his own pro-war nominee would prevail she couldn't be sure. The clock continued to turn.

It was only an hour after the nominations were sent to the conclave that the Admirals finally received word about who the new Admiral was. It turned out a large part of the delay was the desire of the head captain to send a messenger to the admirals instead of sending them an omni-message. The messenger had of course become lost in their new capital building, as small as it was.

When he opened the door to the Admiralty Board's room they all spun around to determine what the message was. The messenger obliged them, "It is with great pleasure that the Migrant Fleet Conclave of Captains would like to inform the Migrant Fleet Admiralty Board that they, from the nominations provided, have selected Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy to join the Board."

Xen hissed the moment the name came from the poor boy's mouth and he fled in pure terror as soon as he was done. Shala smiled, all that was left was to alert Tali of her new position and the Board could have a strict up or down vote on the war once she arrived. Shala would handle telling Tali personally, the girl would need to be informed carefully, "I will alert Admiral Zorah of her new position, as the closest thing to family that Tali has left I will take it as my duty. Are there objections?"

Silence filled the room. "Very well, I will send her a message in one hour." The other Admirals all stood up and filed out of the room, Koris took one last look back at her and nodded.

She had won. Her people were safe and could focus on the future. She reflected, the Geth could come later.