I don't own the Mass Effect.

Interlude VII: Glistening Spires

Silver Blades Archived Recording

Location: Headquarters (Old) Conference Room 3

Date: 10-01-2186

Kean; Yes. The timing is bloody terrible, I'm not denying that, but if you can see a better way to secure ourselves to the pair of them I don't see it.

Massa: Cieran, she is going to lose her Pillars-damned mind, and do I seriously need to remind you of our location?

Kean; I know where we are Ayle, I also know she's not doing shit to support us when she obviously could be.

Massa; ...that may be, but she could be doing far less.

Kean; If she pulls our support then we get T'Ravt to shake a battle-group or two loose to support us at Horizon.

Massa; That... could be workable. Preferable even, since we wouldn't have to pay them.

Kean; Exactly.

Massa; That still leaves the core plan... if you can call it a plan.

Kean; It's workable. Risky, yeah, but workable.

Massa; It's a pillar of sand, Cieran. If any one thing goes wrong we're going to be at war with the Republics, or the entire Council, or Aria is going to have us all assassinated.

Kean; That last would have probably happened anyway.

Massa; Stop deflecting.

Kean; Fine. Look... we're not in a good position with Aria, and we probably never were going to be, but she at least knows about the Reapers and Leviathans. She won't act against us directly with that threat coming. Athame's ass, if anything this might actually make her get up and do shit for once.

Massa; Good.

Kean; ...what?

Massa; Cieran, I am not an idiot. I understood all of that before we sat down, I merely wanted to be sure that you weren't doing this solely out of a desire for revenge against the Republics for what that old bitch did to you.

Kean; You really think I'd go that far?

Massa; Yes. Do I need to recount our entire history together?

Kean; ...fair point.

Massa; Still. Perhaps I should speak with Voya, she deserves to know what to expect when you have the Matriarch cornered. If you were excited enough to take me on the floor of-

Kean; By the goddess just... no Ayle. Just no.

Scaled Perspective

(Trena T'Laria)

Date: 10-02-2186

Location: Eclipse Command Center, Nos Irrail, Illium

I exhaled sharply, staring at the relic as it sat innocuously on the table in front of me. It... didn't look like much, but that was the fucking point. When you came from a family of mind-rapists and assassins, even the sword of the family Matriarch tended to be more practical than gaudy.

It had an open, grip-style handle wrapped in old, worn leathers that looked more than ready to fall right the fuck off. There was only one edge, the blade itself slightly narrow just beyond the hilt before flaring out once more, the gentle curve arching slightly downwards towards the edge. So long as you hit someone with it properly, the taper and the flared end would let even a short T'Laria bitch hit above her weight. Not that the monomolecular edge and warpfire heart needed much help in cutting through crap, but a bit of extra power was never a bad thing.

"Shit..." I muttered, carefully reaching out and wrapping gloved fingers around the grip. "You could have at least polished the fucking thing."

Musio T'Laria, Supervisor of the Evening Eclipse, sighed and crossed her arms, the motion making her dark, conservative dress shift a little around her. My old bitch of a cousin was starting to show her age, creases appearing around her mouth and eyes, but her vibrantly green eyes were as sharp as they'd always been.

"That would defeat the point and you well know it." She replied crossly, "Now stop stalling and turn the bloody thing on."

Growling to myself, I yanked the sword off the table and sent a rush of dark energy down my right arm. The sword responded instantly, almost eagerly, a far cry from the crap mass produced weapon I'd gotten used to using lately. Bright blue light promptly seared its way all along the edge, with thinner strands flickering to life in a web-like pattern across the dull metal. The colors rippled for a few heartbeats before I commanded it to still, letting the old thing glow steadily as we both stared at it.

"Well at least you've still got control." Musio grumbled, her eyes flicking left and right, as though ensuring I wasn't about to blow us both up with the bloody thing. "Even if you did forsake most of your ancestry in favor of following that Xenthan whore around."

My upper lip twitched as I let the flame die, the sword dimming back down to its bland self. "How has Leska not ripped your goddess-damned crest off yet?"

"Because I am not an infantile maiden who can't control her mouth." She replied promptly, "Now hurry up and get the thing on your belt before we're late."

I snorted. "Like any of them would give a fuck if I was late, and we have plenty of time."

"Maybe," She allowed, "But I refuse to let your first official duty as House Matria fall apart because of your own fucking incompetence."

"You're still going to be down with Jona." I retaliated. "I'm going to be up with the other assholes who don't want to be here."

"To start with." Musio shook her head once. "She's going to want you to replace me."

Lips pulled back from my teeth as I grabbed the sword's sheath, "Everyone's got fucking dreams."

There was a low, irritated growl. "She allowed you get away with violating her codes once Trena, she's not going to let you do it again."

I resisted the urge to snarl back at her, restricting myself to, "I'm wearing this uniform for a goddess-damned reason Musio. She knows I'm not coming back, and she's crazy, not fucking stupid. She won't push petty shit like this now. Maybe after the next war, but not fucking now."

My cousin's voice turned as dry as a Tuchanka desert. "Evidently the preparations for a galactic war are the perfect time for a grand political debacle, so I would not be so hopeful."

Clenching my free fist and muttering to myself about old whores with more tits than sense, I grabbed the sword and sheathed the fucking thing before getting to work. Shifting the coat a bit, I tossed the generic piece of crap I'd been using aside and quickly lashed the millennia old piece of crap into its place before checking myself out in a nearby mirror. Ghai had always thought I looked sexy as fuck in the coat... and the old metal and leather didn't look half-bad against the dark navy and silver.

Musio evidently agreed, at least once she'd knocked my hands away and straightened my collar and tugged the coat's heavy sleeves around bit. Then she'd stepped back to consider her work and nodded firmly, "You look like a pirate from an old vid."

I gave her a grin filled with teeth, "That hot?"

Musio rolled her eyes, "Good to see that your ego remains the size of the goddess' own. Come on."

"I know where we're fucking going." I replied, though I didn't make any move to walk ahead of her as we left the small suite we'd been given to prepare myself within. That was less from any idiotic desire to salve her pride, and more because the hallway was so bloody crowded I couldn't get ahead of her even if I'd wanted to. Asari of every color, size, and description swam up and down stream, filling the air with the rolling tumult of conversation. And, while many were in Eclipse gold or yellow, most were wearing whatever matched their place of origin.

Black armor for those from Nular near Omega contrasted with the ornate green and white uniforms born by the Cathians, themselves clashing with skintight tan ensembles for the psychopaths from Heshen, Juriumian corporate whores wearing clear silks that accentuated rather than hid their breasts, and a dozen other combinations that started to hurt my damned eyes after a few minutes.

And the combinations of fucking perfume made the air toxic.

It took us a good ten minutes to elbow, shove, and otherwise roll our way through the crowd and reach the main meeting hall. There we found a broad open space defended by the sheer, intimidating aura emanating from the six Elder Sisters standing guard. All of them were in their formal, gaudy as fuck best, their entirely functional armor hidden behind ornate gold filigree done up in elaborate styles and images.

Here, I finally pushed in front of Musio, planting my hands on my hips... not so innocently near my pistol and blade. "Kani. Finally made elder I see."

"Gears." The purple skinned commando replied, not looking at all pleased to see me. "Heard you were still breathing. Guessing you want in?"

"I want to be at fucking home with a few bottles of wine and a naked bondmate making me scream." I countered, "But apparently I'm supposed to be in this overdone brothel."

Kani sighed, "You haven't bloody changed at all... why the fuck are you even here? Thought that long furred Human ran your little corporation. He couldn't be bothered to show?"

"He's got other shit to handle." I replied shortly. "Open the fucking door before shit starts without me."

Her lips pressed into a thin line in displeasure, but she twitched her chin and made a motion with her left hand. One of the others flicked her omni-tool to a life for a short moment, sending the signal to open the heavy doors while Kani took a step to her right to let us move past. Nodding sharply, with far more confidence than I actually felt, I stalked past her and made it to the archway before I felt something in my chest clench a little.

The last time I'd been in this room... my mother had been alive. So had my sisters. So had my team. So had... so many others.

The room was a precise circle, an upper tier overlooking three rings descending in slight succession, sunlight being perfectly filtered to create the symbol of the Eclipse across the floor regardless of the time of day. Twenty swirling columns surrounded the top tier, beside each of which another Elder Sister stood guard over the assembled room.

Below them were forty or so Asari, the assembled warlords who nominally answered to Jona Sederis, about half of whom had once constituted the member ranks of the old Cathian Confederation, the Black Republic of the Asari. Some were the business rulers of corporate worlds, others were hereditary monarchs, yet more had killed for their realms, and a rare few had actually been elected.

Behind me, Musio gave me a surprisingly gentle nudge, and I shook my head sharply before getting my short ass moving again. We separated with a quick glance, Musio taking the nearest gentle ramp down to the lowest level, while I remained up at the top along with the other associates, subordinates, the occasional alien staff member, and other pseudo-allies.

One of them noticed my approach, smiled slightly, and approached.

"Trena T'Laria." Aeri B'Val, Commander of Bluewave Securities, gave me a theatrical little bow. She wasn't all that attractive, her chest was flat beneath her ice-blue uniform, her features a bit broad, but the little scars around the left side of her mouth gave her a nice little edge. "Should have known Kean would send you instead of showing up himself."

I exhaled sharply through my nose, "Athame's ass, is everyone going to fucking bother me about that?"

The leader of the most powerful mercenary corporation in the Terminus threw back her head and laughed, seemingly genuinely amused. "Probably. I know some of the mess he's become involved in, so I didn't actually expect him, but I doubt many of these idiots do."

Some of said idiots who were nearby gave her dark looks that she entirely ignored, something that raised my approval levels a bit.

"How much do you know about the crap we're doing?" I asked, moving to stand a bit closer, figuring we professional murderers might as well stick together.

"Heard about the Collectors being active lately." She replied easily, crossing her arms and turning so we were standing shoulder to shoulder. "Heard that Aria had given him and a few others orders to deal with it, and that his fleet and his Omega division is sailing into the Traverse bit by bit."

I grunted, not terribly surprised that she was keeping tabs on us, not when she'd been given the other half of that shithole Redcliffe to garrison. Cieran and Ayle had their own little network keeping track of her shit in turn, noting how many troops she was moving to Redcliffe, and how many were busy on other contracts. "You know what all this is about too?"

There was a powerful inhalation, her pleasant demeanor fading quickly as she lowered her voice to something bitter. "Fucking power plays made by old whores stirring up storms, and we're stuck just trying to stay afloat. Situation fucking typical."

Another grunt came out of my throat, indicating my total agreement. "And you're siding with Sederis?"

"Maybe." She replied, her eyes narrowing when I simply pursed my lips in response. "You know the details?"

"Some of them. Shit's going to piss off everyone."

"I wish that surprised me." Aeri sighed, "Is there at least some core of cleverness to the insanity, or is it entirely crazy?"

"Fuck if I know." I replied tiredly, shaking my head and settling in to wait. It didn't take long, a minute or two passing before a heavy bell tolled somewhere above us. Everyone turned towards the main doors when the heavy things groaned open once more, watching as two more figures came through.

My father was out in front, dressed in even more abominably ugly armor than her personal guard, her lips set in the same perpetual smirk she always wore when she thought she was in control of the situation. Behind her, wearing a far more practical yellow dress, was Matriarch Desa Rassial, Mistress of the Morning Eclipse. The two moved down the levels as all conversation ceased, joining my cousin as the sole beings in the lowest circle.

Musio and Desa remained standing, while Jona plopped her ass onto the small couch positioned in the dead center of the room.

"Less than half of you were present the last time I called a meeting like this," Jona didn't bother raising her voice, it echoed just fine in the absolute silence. "So we're going to have to get the bloody obvious out of the way first. When I gathered all of you back together, our goal was to rebuild from what that incompetent turtle of a Patriarch did to us."

Even the mocking title of Raik Vol sent a rustle of anger through the room, particularly amongst the older Meshinvi. They, at least, could remember the centuries where they had been the princess-bitches of the Terminus, their Confederation as powerful and arrogant as they themselves were. Then Patriarch had decided to shore up his own power by butchering their Queen, killing her immediate family, and sending assassins after anyone who he thought might be strong enough to claim the title.

I'd grown up in the in-fighting that had lasted for centuries after, and watched as the Eclipse had grown into the void left behind.

"Our goal was to create a new realm, one strong enough that no Thessian whore or Omega gutter rat would be able to fuck with us." She continued, "Shit fell apart after the Black Night, and I'll even admit that, but now... now we are back."

There was an almost confused murmur, a few of the warlords briefly joining hands with their neighbors to transfer emotions and thoughts, and then one of them took a step forwards from the second-lowest ring, her black and red dress striking even at this distance.

"And what," It took me a few breaths to place the statuesque bitch; Executive Feri Halora, one of the few Matriarchs present. "Do you mean by that, Sederis? Is the banner of your Eclipse to be thrown aside, and the Confederation resumed?"

Jona stared hard at the older woman, then replied, "The Eclipse is the Confederation, Feri."

The Matriarch scoffed, "Hardly. We were Queens too, Jona. When T'Kun ruled us she did so as the first among equals, not as if she was a goddess lording above mere mortals."

"And look where that got her." My father retaliated, "How many of you fucking moved to her defense? I knew the bitch when I was young, and there wasn't a fucking better strategist or tactician ever born in this goddess-forsaken part of the galaxy. She bloody humiliated the Hierarchy, killed a goddess-damned Primarch for fuck's sake... and you cowardly whores let her heart get ripped out by a dottering old beast who couldn't outwit one of his own dancers!"

Halora flinched back a step at the sudden shout, wincing visibly along with many others. Unfortunately for them, Jona wasn't done, rising from her couch in a single furious motion, blue-black light rippling around her hands as she snarled, raising her voice yet further.

"War is coming! The Reapers are coming!" Her voice nearly thundered with the force of her anger, "Thessia is coming! By the fucking goddess you will unite behind me or you will die, and I will be more than happy to end your miserable existences right fucking now!"

The shocked silence seemed oppressive as fuck in the wake of the volume, but the retaliatory anger came out soon enough. No one shouted back at her, no one was that fucking stupid, but the air began to crackle with power as more momentary melds and quick glances occurred between those glaring the most severely.

"Please try something." Meshinvi Vela T'Kun all but purred, stepping down from the lower ring, a hand already on the hilt of her blade. "I would be more than happy to help our Queen by dealing with the people who abandoned my aunt and cousins."

Others began to shift as well... all of them Matrons, all of them smirking as they moved down to the lowest level, pointedly exposing their backs to Jona even as they stared up at those who weren't descending. Within a few minutes only Halora and the four other Matriarchs remained on the second and third levels, none of them looking nearly so confident as they had just a short time before.

Beside me, Aeri frowned and leaned close, her voice barely audible. "Why the high pressure tactics? Halora's a bitch but she's a businesswoman. She'd take a deal, and replacing her will be a pain in the ass."

I grimaced, my own lips hardly moving. "Aria will be here any minute."

The mercenary blanched almost immediately, her dusky blue skin abruptly turning waxy and sickened. "Oh... Athame's azure... do you have an excuse to leave?"

I fucking wished that I did, but the drama below escalated further before I could reply.

Halora stood her ground, crossing her arms across her generous chest as she stared down at the assembly below her, "Do they know you killed a Council Spectre this past month, Jona?"

Evidently most of them hadn't, because more than a few smirks shifted into something less certain.

"Or that the Council has called for their subcommittee on defense to draw up war plans to invade the Spinward Terminus?" The Matriarch continued, "That they intend to conquer us all if you are not turned over to them as a criminal?"

Jona remained silent, crossing her arms and still smirking up at the elder being. Her confidence seemed to keep those around her from drifting away, but only just.

Halora drew herself up, as if sensing weakness, "Or that the Republics have spent the last century psychologically preparing their people to 'reclaim their Lost Republic'? That they will commit everything thanks to your insanity?"

I sighed as Halora revealed herself to be a businesswoman, and a shit politician. She was worried about her bottom line, her interests and holdings, and expected everyone else to act from the same stupid-assed viewpoint. She didn't like the Republics anymore than the rest of us did, but didn't want to fight them either, not if she had a way to avoid that kind of shit.

The same couldn't be said of the others. Even the bloody mention of Thessia's intent immediately turned the worried glances and frowns into something dark and furious, whatever brief whirlpools she'd conjured up to break the opposition healing instantly.

Fighting off a Council invasion was a terrifying proposition without the entire Terminus united behind their asses, and even then a worrying concept. Something to be met by bargaining and evasion if possible.

Fighting off a Republic attack was something to be met by dying to the last, youngest Maiden if that was what it bloody took to make Thessia fucking realize we weren't their playthings.

"You would side with her?" Halora's voice became disbelieving, her head shaking with something like pity. "The same who has caused all of this with her utterly pointless actions? And at the worst goddess-damned time on top of that, when the remainder of the Terminus is neither inclined nor even able to assist us!"

That made a few of the younger tits glance at one another, a few last momentary melds... but they remained where they were.

Jona let the pointed silence lap across the room a few times before speaking, spearing each of the other Matriarchs with her attention as she spoke their personal names. "Essa, Jori, Ten, Tolla. Are you with this old bitch, or are you with me?"

For a long breath, none responded, then the oldest, Jori T'Mar, sighed loudly. "I'm too old and too tired for this shit. Vea? Rule well my daughter."

There was a startled exclamation from a Maiden half-way around the room from me, and she took an almost hesitant step forwards as her mother turned away and began heading for the door, gathering up the white folds of her dress as she did. Two of the others hesitated, then called out to their own heirs before electing to depart for their homeworlds. Jona let them go, though I didn't doubt that they'd end up with Night Whisperers lurking around for the rest of their goddess-damned lives.

That left two, and then one as Tolla Renea sighed and shook her head, "I'm sorry Feri, but I don't have any desire to become a martyr."

Halora was left alone as the last Matriarch walked down the steps, taking her place with the others. To her credit, the old bitch straightened up as best she could and pulled an elegant blade from the folds of her dress, warpfire shimmering along its edge as she stared at the assembly below her.

Jona moved forwards, the little crowd parting as she drew her own blade, her smirk utterly patronizing as she lifted her left hand, as though inspecting her bloody fingernails. "At least you know how to die like a Warlord. Any last words?"

"You are already dead..." Came the disgusted reply. "You are simply too stupid to realize it. The Justicars will take you all."

The last syllable had barely left her lips before I had to flinch back, an roaring, laser-like needle of almost black biotic power screaming out from Jona's upraised left hand. Halora tried to dodge aside, tried to use the latent energy in her sword to deflect the blow, but wasn't fast enough to accomplish either. The range was too short, the power moving too quickly, and the fight ended before it could begin.

The warpfire lance punctured her barriers, her flesh, her heart, and her spine with equal disdain, burrowing its way into the elegant stone floor about a meter from my left foot as everyone nearby, myself fucking included, flash-stepped away in pure, panicked reflex.

"Someone clean that up." My father purred as the ringing in the air slowed, everyone staring at the crumpled form and at her in equal measure. As per fucking usual after killing something, she looked like she'd just had the best goddess-damned orgasm of her life and was eager for another.

Which was kind of fucking worrying me, since she normally only got that glazed look if there was a few million credits worth of property damage. Either she was off her goddess-damned meds, or she'd been looking forwards to killing that poor bitch for a long time.

"The rest of you..." She continued, taking a too-deep breath as she seemingly forced herself to look away from the corpse, "Back to your places, we still have matters to resolve."

Two Elder Sisters flashed forwards, grabbing the well-dressed body and hauling it up the ramp towards the door. A third moved as well, picking up the fallen Matriarch's sword and carrying it as she returned to her post. Everyone slowly returned to their places in the various rings, though no one stood near the trail of purple blood that had been left behind.

Jona took her seat once more, though she pointedly kept her sword out rather than sheathing it. Once she was sure we were ready to listen, she resumed speaking as if nothing of interest had just fucking happened.

"Organizationally there will be few changes, we don't have the goddess-damned time." Her fingers curled and uncurled slowly around the hilt, moving in a deliberate sequence to draw everyone's eyes to the blade in her lap. "That means you all will retain a degree of autonomy within your own waters."

That seemed to calm a few of them, though someone I didn't recognize replied, "Will we utilize the Morning Eclipse for administrative overhead?"

Jona actually grimaced. "No. They will be tasked with overseeing areas directly under the Eclipse's control, we'll be rebuilding the old bureaucracy as quickly as the wind allows."

More grimaces and murmurs circled the room, and I couldn't exactly blame any of them. Even building something as lean as the Blade's Administration department had been a fucking pain in the ass, and that was something intended to oversee a couple of military bases and a small city. Recreating a fucking governmental structure that had fallen apart a few centuries ago was probably going to cause more than a few bitchy disagreements.

"The base plan is for a simple and minimal organization to which you will all report, and from whom you'll receive production targets, conscription requirements, and other shit." Jona continued once she was good and ready to, "We're using the old Confederation's districts as our regions. Over the following several days we will..." Her mask briefly cracked, showing something like nausea, "Discuss and formulate the requirements for such an organization."

Vela T'Kun made a polite sound, "With respect, Queen, that is something we can leave for later. Right now I believe we have more immediate concerns."

Jona glowered at her for a few heartbeats, the change of expression coming as unsettlingly quickly as ever. "If you're going to state the bloody obvious just state it, don't dance around the fucking question. Yes. I killed one of the Council's pet psychopaths on Illium, and yes, the fools evidently are using that as an excuse to come for us. I won't bother insulting your collective intelligence by denying that I planned for such a thing."

I grimaced as a quiet murmur of... not shock so much as understandable confusion ran through the room.

"The reason I went and fucking did that, and why I would have done far more to provoke those quadless cretins, is because we are not ready for war." The last part of the sentence came out as a furious growl, "Apparently our people are not convinced that the Reapers are coming, that the Leviathans are real and wish us to worship them as fucking gods. Some of you are apparently of the same bloody mind, so now I've given you an enemy that you can fucking comprehend."

It was probably a good thing the bitch had already killed Halora and demonstrated that she wasn't going to put up with shit, because the furor those words caused would have probably become an immediate attempt to dethrone the new Queen instead of merely setting off angry shouts and denials.

The tumult lasted for a good few minutes, Jona snarling back at the crowd even as said crowd began to snap at each other as much as her. I half expected her to blast someone, lethally or not, just to reinforce the point, then I kicked myself in the ass when I realized that that would just let them all unify against her out of rational fear. And right now she needed them all solidly on her side, that meant trying to convince them with words instead of violence.

And she wasn't much fucking good at that. Not anymore, not after the long and bitter life she'd lived.

Around the fifth minute, Aeri wrapped her fingers around my wrist, her mind gently brushing past my own, giving me a single impression of furious impatience tinged with wariness. I grunted, understanding the request and why she didn't want to take the risk herself, and flicked my right hand up before drawing in my focus, narrowing my eyes as I targeted a column with no Sister at its base. It took me a few seconds, dark energy rippling down my arm as I summoned and forced it to obey my will, a far cry from Jona's instantaneous use.

My own lance wasn't the dark line of my father's, it was closer to two finger widths in diameter, and it was bright as a burning blue sun. Which, in this case, was actually more bloody useful, since it sure as fuck got everyone's attention when it screamed across the room and drilled a hole through solid stone.

"Athame's ass would you all fucking shut up!?" I bellowed as best as I could into the shocked silence that followed, noting that every guard remaining had weapons pointed more or less in my direction. "The shit is fucking done, stop whining like a bunch of maidens still clinging to your mother's tits and focus on what the fuck you're going to do now!"

The silence continued for another breath, then Jona threw back her had and laughed, looking for all the fucking galaxy like she was genuinely amused. That didn't seem to endear me to the others, many of whom were looking at me in the same fashion a haughty Matriarch might glare at some insect that had stained her shoes when she stepped upon it.

"How I've missed you Gears." She managed to get out in between chortles, "As direct and impolite as ever... it is good to have you back."

I glared at her, wrapping my fingers around the edges of my coat and tugging it a bit to emphasize just what uniform I was wearing. "Can we get to the fucking point?"

Jona's eyes narrowed slightly, but she kept her smile in place as she returned her attention to everyone else. "As I said, I had planned for this. War may be inevitable but that does not mean that it is going to happen tomorrow, nor within the next few months. We now have the motivation to prepare for total war, and managing such will be all of your responsibilities. Delaying the Council and Republics and limiting their capability will be mine."

As if on cue, there was an ominous clang as the door behind us all shut, and Aria T'Loak's voice rang through the hall. "Oh this I have to hear dear Jona. Go on then, tell us how you intend to delay those fools before they come for your head."

I turned, along with nearly everyone else in the goddess-forsaken place, and saw Omega's Queen stride into the room with the same overwhelming confidence she always did. Behind her were Leska and Ithiri, my half-sisters both visibly noting the blood trail leading out of the room, the situation in general, the waves churning as they tried to work out their mother's plan.

Somehow I managed to be surprised that she hadn't told Leska at least... unless she had and the cold bitch was just playing Aria.

For her part, the Queen seemed to take in the room with a single glance, and to not like at all what she was seeing. It had to have been some kind of fucking extra sense that she had, some weird as shit ability to read a crowd and instantly know who she had to bribe, who she had fuck, and who she had to kill in order to come out on top. She picked out Aeri and I at once, along with the other few 'independents' who had been summoned, along with three of the Meshinvi who nominally lived in 'her' territory, and I think it was then that she got where this was all going.

Shockingly, it pissed her the fuck off.

Jona's small smile widened back into a smirk, "I intend to do exactly what they've always wanted, Aria. I'm going to be... civil."

"Civil." Aria drawled darkly, her leather clad legs carrying her down the blood-stained ramp, the few warlords even near backing even farther away as she passed. "I didn't know you understood the concept."

"Understanding and caring to be something are separate matters." My father cut a hand through the air dismissively. "If anything I should thank you for... enlightening me as to the best means to proceed."

One of the Black Queen's boots struck the ground far harder than necessary. "Explain."

The smirk became something vicious, "You've spent the last century playing us all against each other, always parting the right waves, riding the right winds, anything you had to do to make sure none of us could challenge you. Divide and conquer, I believe is how the Humans phrase it."

"I see." Aria only stopped moving once she reached the lowest ring, standing a meter or so away from my father. "How many requests?"

"All but the Union and Republics, and nothing to those fucks on the Council itself." Came the easy reply, Jona looking far too pleased with herself. Avoiding those two would assure the general population that she wasn't trying to sell them out, and any anger would only last until the denunciations rolled out from Thessia. Then the anger would spark up. "They should receive my requests for recognition and embassies within the next week."

Thus neatly hurling the clawball right back to the Council and leaving them with a fuck-all mess. If even one of them actually recognized the Eclipse or Confederation or whatever the shit she was going to call it, the fallout would be immense. And considering that part of this insane concept was the fact that the Republics Assembly was in the run-up to their election season, what the fuck to do was going to become an internal political issue if any negotiations started up. Then there was the Alliance and their own problems with internal crap, and whether or not they'd want their current Councilor to be the one to decide anything.

And neither nation was known for figuring crap out with any kind of speed.

"Dear Yan," Jona continued, stilling smirking her ass off, "Has assured me that she will be requesting the same on behalf of her Empire. How long do you think it will take them to deal with the ramifications of two Terminus nation-states requesting galactic recognition of our sovereignty?"

Aria cocked her head a little, looking as if she was considering the plan. Which the bitch wasn't, she'd probably worked out that much as soon as she'd heard that a conference had been called and realized both the potential and the problems. Her issue was more immediate and more direct; the idea that Illium and Xentha were coordinating was the real surprise, and a fucking unpleasant one for her.

"How long do you intend to carry out the charade?" She finally asked. "How long do you think you can drag out negotiations before they lose their patience?"

Jona pursed her lips, then glanced behind her at the silent form of Desa Rassial. The Matriarch sighed, then nodded and began speaking. "Four months should be sufficient to enact the initial preparation. Six or seven months would be ideal."

Aria grunted. "You honestly believe you can stall them for that long with petty politics?"

"If I didn't I'd have thought of something else." Jona crossed her arms arrogantly, but from the uneasy glances around the room, no one else quite shared her confidence. "And why are you even here, Aria? Don't you have a campaign to be managing?"

She couldn't have been less fucking subtle if she'd gotten up and slapped Aria across the face. The collective intake of breath was sharp and instant, and everyone with any goddess-damned sense went utterly still as the lot of them finally realized that a power play was happening, that one Warlord was asserting her dominance over another.

Aria stared hard right back at her, naked venom visible in her gaze even from where I was standing. She'd made a mistake in coming here to demand answers, and from the momentary glance she gave a stoic Leska and a smirking Ithiri, she knew who had manipulated her into it. Worse, her options were utter shit.

If she backed down, she'd solidify the support of everyone here for her rival and tacitly admit her own weakness, her inability to guide both Sederis and T'Ravt according to her own plans.

If she tried to force Jona back underneath her waves, Jona would fight... and while personally I thought that Aria could take her in a straight brawl, she wouldn't get anything like that here, at the heart of the Eclipse's strength.

Aria shook her head slightly, as if dismissing an option, and made one final glance around the room. A few looked away, refusing to meet her gaze, others stared back with venom of their own. Many had hoped that she would be the one sitting where Jona was, rebuilding the old nation... and instead she'd fucked them over, set them against each other, and concentrated on making something new in her hidden clusters.

Turning on a heel, she calmly began to walk back up the ramp, then paused as she reached the top ring. "B'Val. T'Laria. Your corporations are with them?"

"Are you fucking serious?" I shook my head disgustedly, "You've all but broadcast that you're trying to get us fucking killed fighting the bugs, why in Athame's bloody name would we side with you?"

Aria was too collected to react, instead simply flicking her cold eyes to Aeri. The other mercenary exhaled sharply, half-closed her eyes, and then shook her head. "...they hold my contract."

Omega's Queen pursed her lips, then dipped her head slightly, as if accepting our statements. Or perhaps it was better to say that she understood that T'Ravt and Jona were taking another shot at her power-base, hitting at her over-reliance on mercenaries to augment her professional but tiny army. Neither of us were actually a direct threat to her, but we were the largest two mercenary groups around at the moment; losing access to our services would be just one more annoying storm rolling in on her.

She turned to stare down my half-sisters as they remained near the door... then she turned away, her legs carrying her out of the room and out of sight.

Alliance News Network – Breaking News

We interrupt the evening broadcast with breaking news. According to anonymous sources within the Alliance diplomatic service, messages have arrived from Xentha and from Illium requesting diplomatic recognition as sovereign states. Reports coming in indicate that similar dispatches have been sent to the Turian Hierarchy and the Courts of Dekuuna, with the possibility that all Council member nations have as well.

While we still have no comment from government officials, discussions have immediately erupted across the extra-net both for and against recognition. Snap polls seem to indicate a generally favorable opinion of recognizing the Eclipse Confederation, but strong opposition to any idea of doing the same for the Xenthan Empire...

Excuse me, we cut now to Miss Allers on Earth, who is with the new Deputy Chairman of the Terra Firma party, Mister Jorge Gunddarsen.

Next up is Operation III: Legend's War

And thus our interludes wrap up, a galaxy-spanning political shitstorm begins, and we get ready for the next operation. Things are going to start happening at a faster pace from here on out as events start to tumble together, so hopefully everyone will enjoy the ride

Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."

Thanks, Kat