Part 20
Greetings loyal listeners! Welcome back to another episode of the Steller Wind, the most trusted source for the real news and not just the so-called 'official' reports.
I'm sure we're all still reeling from what came out recently about the humans. But even if I don't like to brag about my laser target intuition I think I'd be doing you all a great disservice by not bringing this fact up.
Almost fifteen years ago now, when the initial reports of Earth and its species came out I mentioned that there as something suspicious about the attention that the Citadel Council was paying to them. Especially with the Krogan's still threatening Asari worlds on the border of our space.
Why would we be giving preferential treatment to them? With such large and generous loans on strategic materials to a species just discovered and with only a small population and under-equipped military?
A lot of you responded at the time by quoting Councilor Vokatia's statements. And I still agree that it was some Goddess blessed nonsense she feed us. Of course no one is going to say we should go against the Siari tenets and deny charity to another species in want.
But let's be serious here. There's no way an offer of Eezo at fifteen percent below trade price per kilo and a no interest loan for five hundred years up to twelve billion credits of war materials just came out of a sense of universal spiritual communion.
They knew something we didn't.
And they still do most likely if some of the reports I've gotten are true.
Or am I the only one still wondering how it is that a non-organic lifeform can apparently use biotics?
-: Extranet Recording of Cearvo T'ebrall, 'The Steller Wind.' Originally Broadcast on April 15th, 12155 in the Asari Colony Lejune
Heimdall Station, Earth Orbit, May 8th, 12155.
A shudder ran through the entire shuttle as it landed. Brief though it might have been it jarred White from her reading. The translucent plastic clipboard floating into the air for moment before artificial gravity asserted itself and it fell into her outstretched hand.
"Despite it all we still insist on doing some things so traditionally."
Though given how it was a missive from the Parisian Museum International wanting her to 'highly recommend our distinguished alien visitors to tour the recovered artifacts on display' she shouldn't have been surprised. If any android organization was going to send her an actual letter by courier service, it would be archivists. Thankfully she had assistants to delegate such matters to most of the time.
Though compared to her last operation she relished the opportunity for such mundanities to take up her time instead. No lives hung in the balance over this decision, only the anxiety of some historians eager to reveal more correct information now that they had relaxed their control over outgoing information to the greater galaxy. That and sorting through the growing list of civilian academics and xeno-cultural specialists that had been begging for an opportunity to see Earth outside of the pre-selected locations that had been open thus far.
Not her problem, though she wondered how much more work that had created for local Public Security forces.
A nearly imperceptible buzzing accompanied a short high-frequency beep. White lifted her right hand up and activated a comms device attached to her ear. The orange tinted holographic screen forming a few centimeters from her eyes as she disembarked from the shuttle.
"Admiral, it's good to see you again," Willow said. The auburn-haired android that served as White's direct subordinate and assistant looked away briefly, a flash of embarrassment present on her face. "I mean not really since this is just the comms channel but… you know."
"It's not a problem Willow. I understand that things have been quite stressful here as well."
"That's not it. I mean not all of it. You have a guest waiting in your office."
White paused at the door from the hanger, struggling to remember if she had forgotten something important. "Is it that Salarian who kept asking for a Demonic Element sample?"
"No, he got re-assigned after you complained about that." Willow looked away, likely to the screen beside her on her desk, before speaking. "No, you have someone from Public Security waiting for you. They're already in your office here on Heimdall."
"What?" White's surprise came out harsher than she might have wanted. Now her pace hastened, glaring as the doors on the elevator closed and the (annoyingly slow) movement upwards took her to the main section of the statin. "Why did you let them in there?"
"I'm sorry! It's just… well it was a little intimidating to meet her in person, you know?"
The doors opened, though White didn't step forward. Frozen as the identity of her guest became clear. "I'd have thought she would be too busy with the increased alien visitors to come up here."
Willow spoke then, interrupting White's thoughts. "Uh… Ma'am? Do you want me to tell her to leave?"
"No, that won't be necessary. I'll be up shortly."
"Acknowledged."
The display vanished, leaving White alone as she left the elevator and headed towards her personal office. Her pace slowing as she began to pass more androids in the hallway. First as those she recognized greeted her and stepped aside. And then coming to a stop when she realized how large the crowds were further ahead in the atrium.
Though it wasn't quite as open as it could have been. They hadn't been able to be so liberal with their use of space, so the wider open area contained both the small garden and larger observation point that allowed one to gaze out at the Earth below them. Frankly she thought the garden a tad disconcerting in the chosen aesthetic. Faux marble columns extended several meters up between planters filled with the pale flowers of Lunar Tears.
Despite the difficulty in caring for those temperamental blossoms, they were not the point of attraction in the garden. Instead a wireless network extended out from a single terminal located at the center of the garden. A specialized pod system set aside for managing it.
And the records it contained.
White truly didn't know where the idea had come to set up a memorial. Not just for the recent dead, even if that might have been the original idea, but to chronicle the registry information and names of every android known to have died in some capacity while serving under the Army of Humanity. Not that such behaviors hadn't become disturbingly common among the disparate resistance forces over time. Disturbing given how it went against many of command's directives, if understandable nonetheless.
"But why the flowers?" That White didn't have the first clue on. Flowers were common among traditions of the old world. But there had been insistence from quite a few that this would be the perfect place for such an installation once they settled on growing Lunar Tears. Turning away from the monument White looked instead to the androids around it, many scanning through the enormous archive of names and confirmed or likely termination dates on their personal tablets and reading devices. "Many androids do have strange superstitions. I recall there being something of the sort about these flowers. Perhaps that is why they were so insistent on using this location?"
Though many in the group before her had no part in that. Like flipping mental switch, White brought up their ID info from the local server. Registered before stepping foot aboard the station she saw the floating identifiers above their heads. And noted the many with recent activation dates, and how they were not all cloistered together as had been common in such groups back during the war. Instead they often were paired up with someone clearly their senior, and in some cases if pair of them.
The first wasn't entirely novel, having a mentor for specialized training that couldn't be imparted easily into on-activation data had always been the norm. Such relationships were often fairly close and had shown significant improvements in moral.
Until one or the other died, which had led to many local leaders trying to minimize emotional connections. For all the good those rules had ever done.
It was the latter groups that most drew White's attention. A rarity, but one that had been growing more common as organized society had found that they needed more androids to help with current and forecasted labor than could be trained and prepared under the older methods. Especially when technical and skilled trade skills were in such demand. You could set up a basic grunt with a rifle and knowledge of how to maintain themselves and their weapon in few months. But refurbishing one of the older diesel engines? Or the proper maintenance procedures for the new Eezo core equipped shuttles?
Apprenticeships and training were required, and not just out of a sense of nostalgia for Old World education methods. Some limits of android neural structure had always placed fairly hard limits on the total information that could be safely incorporated into an individual on activation. It had been why the Next Generation Weapons Development Program that had prototyped the early YoRHa units had been forced to engage in specialization even when using nearly unlimited resources and the best technology they had available.
"And some that exceeded it," White thought, raising her right hand up to her chest, hovering over where the black box that had been used to recover her consciousness data lay. A modified machine core, but still descended from technology that had not come from any Earthly source. "But even with that, we still had to separate new units into specialized functions. A type H and a type O simply couldn't be programed to know all the same information. And even the frontline combat models often required considerable experience to make use of their full capabilities."
And thus the reason so many androids were cloistered in small groups. The 'Sponsorship Program' had been created to hopefully produce a surplus of androids with necessary skills by simply allotting them to already those individuals that had both the time, personal resources, and specialized skills to handle the training and education of newly activated units until they were needed. Or at least that had been the idea to start with.
But there had been a serious push to allow more than one individual to be listed as a 'sponsor' for a new android, with convincing arguments that it would provide more well rounded education and experiences from the differing viewpoints. Before anyone realized it they had created a legal and start organized method for an android couple to 'adopt' a newly activated unit.
There'd been quite the uproar when this came out, with some of the more traditionalist leaning even staging a protest and arguing that such radical behavior couldn't be allowed. Ultimately the law had been easier to implement than remove, especially with the war efforts putting such a strain on number of androids available for training in specialized fields with weapon development and zero-G construction. The Krogan had proved fortuitous in a way for those radicals wanting to emulate family units, and the Sponsorship Program had remained more or less as is, even if some regions had tried to make the attempt to register as a sponsor more onerous to dissuade those that intended to be more like parents than mentors in a specific profession.
Just another sign of changing times. Now policies that had been talked about by the radicals and separatists in Australia before the aliens attacked and shelved indefinitely since then were being implemented. And despite the odd way it made her feel, White actually found it somewhat heartening to see. It might not be precisely the future she had hoped for, but at least is was one.
Though such complicated feelings were quickly replaced by a sense of foreboding. Her office had come into sight and Willow stood not far from the door, pacing back and forth. She turned on her heel and came to stand before White, eyes downcast and apologetic.
"I tried to tell her to wait in the assigned area but she just said that it would be quicker if she just stayed in your office. I'm sorry I didn't notify you earlier but Public Security now has some of the N-XP 80 Flight Units. Her arrival must have gotten lost among all the others and…"
"It's not a problem. I'll see what she wants."
Willow hesitated, looking to the side as they walked. "I think she's in a bad mood."
"When isn't she when she has to deal with military matters? If Willow noticed it just means she isn't bothering to hide it as well as she can." Turning to her on-station assistant, White said, "Don't worry about it. She's just wired that way. I'm sure everything is fine."
White continued on, not feeling near as reassured as she had just acted. The doors sliding open and revealing her unexpected guest.
Public Security Major 2B, currently serving as the senior security consultant for alien affairs. Which mostly ended up being a demanding and time-consuming job as she acted as a consultant on the efforts to fit their nascent civil law enforcement into something compatible with the greater galaxy's.
This only made her un-announced arrival all the more unusual. 2B should have been far too busy with such matters to fly up to Heimdall for no reason and stand in White's office waiting for her for almost an hour.
"Major 2B, I wasn't expecting you. Is there something I can help you with?"
2B didn't speak immediately, glancing over her left shoulder. Her gaze distant and her expression blank. She turned away and looked out the window again before speaking. "I never get tired of the view from space, you know. Up here troubles on Earth seem so far away. Almost like they're… unreal."
"I suppose," White said, confusion slipping into her voice as she came closer. Coming to stand a short distance from 2B. The other android still in her uniform, the more colorful blue and black a compromise between YoRHa combat armor and less threatening aesthetic design. Though the sword, even sheathed, floating behind her countered that. "I'm not sure I follow though. 2B… why are you here?"
"Some of the Salarians that were selected for tours recently were xeno-geneticists. They talked quite a bit about the unusual effects that even secondary Maso exposure had had to the plants and animals. They also talked about some of their own work. They probably shouldn't have," 2B said, turning to face White at last, "but I guess some of our soldiers were spreading rumors about me."
She didn't speak. The words didn't come, not quickly enough. Silenced by the pain she saw in 2B's eyes.
"They were so proud of their work. Of their… solution to the Krogan problem. When they finished explaining it to me I asked them a question."
"2B…"
"I asked them what they intend to do with it once the war ended. How they would help the Krogan after what they did to them." 2B spoke slower than normal, holding onto her composure, but clearly strained. White looked down as she heard the creaking of 2B's gloves, her right hand clenched so tight that her gloves would likely be damaged. "They told me White, that they already had. That this was helping them… and that they're not sure if they could cure them even if they wanted to."
"It's complicated. They-we had to strike the Krogan in manner they can't recover from if we want to force their surrender."
"We didn't destroy a key industry or capture a strategic resource White! We've all but sterilized them." 2B looked away, her expression no longer blank. Clearly angry, furious… yet not centered on White herself. Instead she looked down at her own hands. "What are we even doing out here?"
"We're protecting ourselves and Earth from those that would do harm. Or did you forget how close the Krogans are and how quickly they turned to aggression when we encountered them?"
"And that gives us the right to do this to them? To their children? To… to cripple them like this and claim it's for their own good?"
"This is a war they started. One we're they've already killed millions. In such a conflict it isn't surprising if the tactics employed might seem unsavory."
"Unsavory? You make it sound like my problem with this is a matter of tactics or some idiotic concept of honorable combat. It's not what we've done to the Krogan alive now White, but what we've done to the next generation and the ones after them." 2B turned away, leaning forward with her hands now pressed palm down onto White's desk. Staring into the distant stars beyond the curve of Earth below them. "How much innocent blood is on our blades because we've taken part in this?"
White frowned, walking around 2B and coming to stand on the opposite side. Waiting until the other android looked up before she spoke. "And? Do you think we really make so great a difference? The Salarians would have offered the genophage regardless of our aid and the Turians have the fleets to take Krogan worlds and use it. Maybe it would have taken longer, but it still would have happened. Why does this bother you so much 2B? Not everyone that suffers in war deserves it. That's… just how it is."
"Because I never rejoined YoRHa for a reason. And because," as 2B spoke her sword floated around to her right hand, where she set it on White's desk, "this is not my sword. Not the one I used in the war. I have no idea what happened to that blood-soaked blade after my death between the chaos of it all and the machine networks leaving. But I have never drawn it to take an innocent life. This blade holds no regrets. I have tried to use it as a weapon of justice… and not a tool for executions."
"I see," White said, not looking up from the blade. Her eyes locked on the white-silver of the hilt. "And now you doubt yourself?"
"More every time I visit the prison camp and see them. They're so… like we were. So young when they were sent off to fight." 2B had an odd smile on her lips when she said, "I know they're organic yet…"
"They're not your responsibility 2B. Not beyond keeping them safe till we have somewhere else to send them."
2B shook her head. "Aren't they? Some of them have lived longer here than anywhere else now. And when we do send them off everything will be different than they remember. Destroyed thanks to our help."
White sat in her chair, eyes closed as she thought over what 2B had said. "No matter your feelings, we've done what we had to. To preserve our own peace and society in a galaxy that's far more dangerous than we had ever considered. I don't think you have anything to feel guilty over. It's not like you were out there with us when we took Tuchanka."
2B picked up her sword, looking at it for a long moment before her NFCS pulled it back into its place behind her. "That's the problem. Because despite everything I've said, and how I feel right now, I'm afraid I might have made the same choice if day after day I was slaughtering them with this sword."
"I didn't think you'd say that 2B," White said in response, the honest admission relieving some of the tension that had filled the distance between them.
"It's not an easy thing to accept." 2B had turned, almost to the door when she spoke next. "Honestly White, as hard as I find it to deal with the Krogans we captured, I'm glad I'm here. I don't think I could deal with this as well as you do."
The doors slid open and 2B departed. Drowning White in heavy silence. Her solitude interrupted only by the blinking signals of incoming e-mails she ignored. Attention still focused on where 2B had stood. All while she wondered how nice it would be for 2B to have been right.