Chapter Twenty: Fianchetto Part One: Basic Economics
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ A/N \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Hello Everyone!
As of today, when this is posted,
it is the six month anniversary of the start
of my story, The Terran Gambit!
I have to thank you all!
Your support and interest in my story
has been such a driving force.
I am deeply thankful and honored
That so many have followed and liked my story.
In a way, it is a bit of yours as well.
Your feedback and reviews,
to everyone I talked to,
Had helped me improve and morphed this story
into something better than I could have imagined.
To all the readers and fellow authors out there,
Thank You!
And once more, my special thanks to my beta, MoonSword1994.
I couldn't have done it without you!
Thank you for every chapter!
So lets begin, shall we?
A military is always needed,
A political force is key,
but nations are not just that.
There are so many factors,
Like the Wealth of a Nation.
To be strong, you must have the economy,
the lifeblood to support your strength!
One man knows this.
The key to the Terran's rise long ago,
is now the key once more onto the galactic stage.
Everyone else,
from soldiers,
to President Bowman,
has mentioned him.
So here he is.
One of the most important Terrans in the Gambit Universe.
Ready to do his mark for man's Great Gambit!
So it's a two-parter,
In celebration of the six months!
So please enjoy.
And once more.
Thanks for reading,
Keep on following,
There's more coming up!
And always feel free to review.
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,
let me know.
If you have any questions that the story didn't answer,
Go ahead and review or PM me.
I'd be glad to answer them.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Part 1:
CEO Jeremy Bishop - CV Pierpont
First Day of Diplomatic Talks
July 1, 2167 10:10:00 UTC
… What was that old phrase they used to say… 'Per Aspera Ad Astra', that's it! That translates to 'Through hardship to the stars' in case none of you knew. We, Humanity, have gone through so much, and once more, we have bled, we have endured, we have struggled! We struggled… through hardship, through our inexcusable failures, to come back from the brink, and march forward once more to the stars. Our home world bleeds, Humanity bleeds, but we must not step back… Too many have died for us to step back.
I looked back, once more onto this world, onto the site where we built our future. They now call it a Utopia. What was once a symbol of our strength is now one of our fragility. This was once our crucible. Now it is a reminder of our foolishness, how we flew too high, and we fell like the 'fallen angels' for it… for the dream, that great Terran dream. Don't be fooled. It still remains alive. And now, more than ever, it is one we must fight for. But our innocence, gone. Our goals, no longer noble.
Once more, onto the stars, we head out. The greatness of Terra awaits us. But we do so now for we have no real choice. The Earth below us feels almost gone. No longer do we have a past to stand our greatness on, we must build a new. And so, as the first ship of the new Fourth Fleet heads out, as all of Humanity heads out once more, let us remember those who endured hardship and struggled so we may all go to the stars beyond. Let us not forget the memories of those who fell. It is now, not then, that we are where the fallen angel meets the rising ape.
Onward and forward, shall the Terran people march on once more! Eternal is our resiliency! It is what those who fell from our Great Revival would have wanted!... It… It… Well, honestly, it's all we can do for them…
Am I done here? Get me the hell away from this God forsaken place…
- Jeremy Bishop, CEO of Quantum Core Industry, at the christening of the first commissioned ship for the Terran Fourth Fleet, the Aircraft Carrier Jade Lin Bishop, ACCC-2135, at the Martian Utopia Fleet Yard, Resiliency Day 2150.
"And that was the speech given by Jeremy Bishop at the first ceremony of Terran Resiliency Day. With the terrorist attack by the group Terra Prime still fresh in everyone's mind, we at the BBC still remember of the events of the Amenthes Terrorist Attack and wish to honor the memories of all those who fell…"
As the news station continued pandering to the people with the events of recent and of decades ago, the man who spoke those words was in the bathroom of his suite onboard his private ship, the Pierpont. The ship itself was in the corvette bay of the Sagan's Voyage, awaiting clearance to depart and dock at the Citadel as well. Everything was arranged, all they waited for now was to make sure the area was safe, and the man was using the President himself to make sure of it.
As for Bishop himself, he stumbled into the bathroom and stood over his Noverian porcelain sink, shirtless and in soiled dress pants. Leading to the door into his luxury bathroom were several empty bottles of Eden's Best Federal IPA, Jim Harper's Illusive Bourbon, and a bottle of Alliance 2067 wine. He grabbed onto the edge of the counter and leaned over, staring at the mirror. His black hair was a jumbled mess, his eyes were bloodshot and watery, his brown face drooping with a thick shadow. His left hand slipped and he collapsed a bit onto the counter, delirious. He continued staring in the mirror at his current self, moaning. He was out of shape, with a beer gut, far from his peak decades ago.
"You… drunk…" he belched, "Fuck!"
Finally, he got ahold of his mind and remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Bishop blinked furiously to get his sight working and he looked to a small device on the counter. It was a detoxification unit he had swiped from one of the labs of the Sirta Foundation, a private company owned by his family. He looked at it with suspicion, it was a prototype reversed engineered from the standard model found in Quarian suits. Though he doubted it would work, he didn't have the time or the care to worry about using the untested product.
He grunted and slapped it on his upper left arm, the suction cups on it attaching into place. Several needles then injected in, the sudden pain taking him by surprise as he slipped and fell onto the marble floor, half of his body hitting the bath rug. As the machine began its detoxification program, he struggled on the ground, rolling wildly back and forth. He clenched in pain, grinding his teeth. His eyes went wide open as he struggled to even moan in pain. He clenched his chest, panicking as he felt an incredible pain course throughout his body, the machine cleaning his blood in a brute fashion.
Finally, he opened his mouth and took one last gasp and collapsed there on the ground, motionless. The machine stopped, flashing a green light that it was finished. It fell off his arm and onto the ground. Bishop laid there still, his eyes opened.
"Your blood alcohol level has been reduced from 0.52% to 0.00%. You are now cleansed. Keelah se'lai!" said the machine, most of its programming still Quarian based.
A sound rang out from the desk inside his suite. He quickly rose up from near death, taking a huge breath. Hyperventilating, he quickly stood up and looked at the sink, then at himself at the mirror once more.
"Ah crap, not again," he said, more clearly and coherent. He was now sweating, now panicking at his ill prepared presentation. He picked up the detoxification unit, taking note of the small vile of toxins on the side. "Nifty little thing." He looked down at the mess on the floor and on him, "Damn it! Emily!"
At the display touchscreen next to the door, Bishop's personal digital assistant program responded. Unlike the Council, the Terran's equivalent for Virtual Intelligence programs lagged significantly behind. The quest for full Artificial Intelligence was done so quickly and with brute force that much of the development in VIs, which would open the way for AIs by Council logic, were overlooked by the Terrans for their digital assistant programs. While heavy commercialization made them just as reliable and had the added safety of no risk of accidental AI development, which the Council version lacked, they were far less capable than Council VI. Combined with AI civil rights, it was one of the main reasons why Humanity had failed to achieve a technological singularity.
"Yes, Mr. Bishop?" responded the program with a feminine Asian voice.
"Activate the Roombas and clean this mess up, turn on my shower to 42 degrees and…" The continued ringing from his desk finally registered in his mind. He yelled, "And answer the damn phone!"
"It would be a great investment!
Bishop stood in front of his sink once more, cleaned and mostly dressed in his business causal, minus the coat and tie. As he finished shaving, Jonah Ashland was on the line, trying to persuade his friend on a new business venture. With a light brown beard and a balding head, he was on the display screen, integrated within the mirror of Bishop's bathroom.
"I don't know, Jonah. Who's this Aussie again?" he asked. With one last swipe of his blade, he finished, leaving him with a clean, smooth face.
Ashland responded, all while hearing Bishop wash his blade in his sink, "Well Jerry, Mr. Lawson is the leading geneticist in the Federation. His last ten years of research alone equates to that done by Humanity since the Atomic Revolution."
"Hmmm," he placed his blade away and reaching for his tie on a nearby sink rack, "Human genome manipulation has been a dead end since the Revival."
"Ah, yes. But alien genes can be profitable. Image what we could offer to our non-human customers? The Quarians, Batarians, even the Asari lag in some aspects. Imagine if we can enhance Quarian immunity or cure that, uh…" Ashland looked at his tablet, reading out the translation, "'Night Winds' syndrome the Asari have."
Bishop gave it another thought as he adjusted his cuffs and started on the tie, "What's their expected IPO?" He looked at the screen integrated to the mirror as Ashland checked.
"Lawson Legacy Genetics will be going on the Noverian Exchange at $45 in a few days. Market projection value at ten billion."
"A bit pricey..." He finished tying a Windsor knot and snapped his fingers, "I know, I'll have Sirta announce a breakthrough in the speedup adaptation of gene splicing. I'll say we found a sea slug full of stem cells or something. That'll lower the price. Then we move in and buy just enough to get a good control of the company without the FTC AIs realizing we're playing stock manipulation."
Ashland slapped his forehead and chuckled, "You've done it again."
Bishop smirked at him, "Of course I have. Who was the one who won the bid to fund the colonization of Terra Nova?"
Ashland sighed. His friend was gloating again, "You…"
"Who formed the largest corporation in the galaxy without getting trust busted?"
"You…"
He snickered some more and continued, "Who bailed you out of that time you thought you got Sabine pregnant at that frat party?"
He face palmed, now embarrassed, "Dear God, please don't bring that up…"
Bishop laughed as he combed his hair, "Exactly! You pine trees always get in trouble."
Ashland slammed his fist, "We are the Cardinals!"
Bishop brushed off Ashland's alma mater, "When you get that damn tree off your logo, then you'll have found a Spartan that cares." He sighed, "I can't believe my son went there… Oh, and who was the one that single handedly orchestrated the merger between your dad's and old man Eldfell's company to form the largest fuel supplier in the Federation?"
Ashland quickly picked up on that, "You. And speaking of that and your son, he decided to imitate his dad and do the same!"
He sighed, checking for a blemish on his face, "I heard…"
"Shell, Exxon, Chevron, all now United SEC." Ashland snarled as he rolled his eyes, "My biggest competitors united, and they underbid me as Roma system's fuel extractor! How can I compete?"
"United SEC is a purely energy extracting company. You and EAE have complete control of distribution. The Newton system is still up for grabs, and Roma and all the Quarians in it will need a distribution network. The Navy will be using the entire sector as a launch point into the Delta. Cut the bid for that by five billion and you'll be supplying them with SEC's own helium as they charge through hordes of robots on Rannoch."
Ashland rested his head in his palm, nodding in agreement, "I can spin that into a marketing campaign." He held his hand out, "Eldfell-Ashland Energy, Fueling the way to the Home World!"
"Ha, play Adagio for Strings as well. They'll love it!" Bishop left the bathroom and walked towards his desk to grab his watch. Locking the strap, he turned it on. Immediately, the biometric sensor went off as the watch patched itself into the room's surround sound speakers.
"Warning: Imminent liver fail. Warning: Imminent kidney failure. Warning: Imminent heart failure. Please seek immediate medical assistance."
Bishop groaned, "Emily, disable alarm. Send an order request to Costco for a pack of livers, a six-pack of kidneys, and a heart. And tell them it better be ready this time! Two-hour organ printing my ass!"
"Yes, Mr. Bishop."
"Still hitting the bottle, I see?" Ashland commented.
"Yah…"
Bishop sighed and sat on his desk. He grabbed a photo on his desk and looked at it. He slid his hand down the glass, staring at the image of a young man in a sharp politician suit, a slightly shorter, lighter complexion young woman in a formal green Army dress and a blue beret, and a small child dressed formally, staring confusingly at the camera. Behind them was the flag of Terra Firma party.
He tossed it aside and onto his desk. As it laid flat up, the frame's built in holo emitter turned on automatically. It played a holo vid, of the same man walking into the frame and putting down a briefcase. He appeared confused, looking around. He then dropped onto one knee and held his arms out as the same child ran up and hugged him. The man picked him up and spun him around before the child climbed onto his back. Playing along, the man held his arms out like wings and ran around as the child pretended to pilot him. The woman finally appeared, slowly walking in with her arms crossed as she giggled at the spectacle.
The man noticed and walked over to her. The child reached for her and she picked him off the man, giving him an Eskimo kiss as they rubbed noses, the child giggling. She placed him down and turned to the man himself; they embraced and had a more passionate kiss, before they opened their eyes and looked into each other's. The child stared up, confused, and the two chuckled as they both grabbed on to his shoulders. They finally all turned to the same direction and got into position, the child unsure of what was going on as the image was taken and the video finally ended.
Bishop stood there, staring at the picture. His eyes were tearing up and his breathing became heavy as he slowly shook his head in disappointment. Deep in him, he felt a clenching pain, his chest contracting and his breath becoming shorter. He reached over and pushed the frame off his desk, then rushed to get his coat.
"Jeremy?" asked Ashland, wondering about the silence.
"I… I… I have to go. End call."
"Wait, Je…"
He got his coat on and walked to the door. He stood there, staring at the steel doors. But then he walked over to a nearby picture frame hanging above his suite's fireplace mantle.
It was a large case with a navy blue background. On the left was a portrait of the same women from before, in her formal uniform and blue beret. On the right was the Star of Terra medal award, the highest award for military personnel. It was a golden six-point star, representing Sol, with a small emblem of the United Earth in the center. It rested on a large circular surface with olive branches connecting to each star tip along the circumference of the large circle. Connecting to it from the top star tip was the blue neck ribbon with three olive green stripes to indicate it was the Army version.
Below in the center, engraved in a silver bar, was the nametag.
Congressional Star of Terra Recipient:
Colonel Jade Lin Bishop
2111-2149
Commander, 9th Battalion, First Division
"For her selfless sacrifice to bring peace to Earth"
Awarded:
1st Terran Resiliency Day
September 11, 2150
He sighed, "You should be the one here. You always wanted to explore the galaxy."
Bishop reached over to a nearby ice bucket and grabbed his last bottle of Alliance 2067. He grabbed the neck and pinched the cork. Just as he was about to pull the cork, his comm went off again.
"Mr. Bishop, are you ready?" asked Patterson.
He stopped and sighed as he held the bottle up. Beyond the bottle, he saw the dock doors open up. He stumbled a bit as the docking clamps released their magnetic grip and left the docks of the Sagan's Voyage. He lowered the bottle and walked to the viewport behind his desk as the Citadel glimmered in the light of the nebula. He looked back at the bottle.
"Right, this is for the host… Yah, I'm on my way."
He patted himself, checking if he had everything.
"Damn it. Emily, where the hell are my 'Silver Bishops'?"
Part 2:
Kerry Wells and Margaret Patterson - CV Pierpont
July 1, 2167 10:55:00 UTC
"Oh, this is going to be exciting," said Wells, sweating a bit as he clapped his collar to get air in. He and his colleague Patterson stood in the atrium of the Pierpont, waiting for the ship to dock.
"Oh God, yes! We're actually going to visit a freaking alien station!" said Patterson. She was giggling as she grinned, holding her arms together, "We're going to see all those exotic aliens like we did in Washington, and more!"
He sighed and rolled his eyes, "We seem so… bland compared to the variety in the galaxy. Hey, didn't you meet that one Quarian admiral?"
She pondered about it, "Koris? Didn't get a good look with that mask in the way."
"But his fellow admiral, her suit really drew out her rack, eh?" he said, pretending to cup invisible breasts on his chest.
"Oh grow up… Quarians aren't my taste." She tightened her arms in seeming denial, "What about you, find anyone of interest?"
He chuckled, "There was that Turian that sat near us back in Washington. His head spikes," he moaned at the thought, "how I yearn to caress them."
"Why was he wearing a Naval uniform though? And an admiral's pip as well?"
He rolled his eyes, "It's Navy. They give promotions away like candy. Hell, they'll let anyone in."
"They let me in." Bishop walked in from around the corner, fully dressed in a grey business suit. In one hand, he had the bottle of wine with a nice bow tie, and in the other was a small OCD he immediately proceeded to put in the inside pocket of his coat. They turned to him and he handed the bottle to Patterson. "Three years as a lieutenant in the budget department then discharged in the only instance of the Navy doing personnel cutbacks. For a year, I actually outranked my wife."
They turned to the airlock, the green light flashed solid as sound came from the docking clamps as they locked onto the ship. A small detachment of Secret Service agents took point at the door, waiting for others on the dock to give clearance.
Paterson turned to Bishop, "You think it's safe? We did destroy some of their ships, and rammed their largest one. Bound to piss them off."
"Oh relax," he said, chuckling, "Ships get randomly destroyed all the time. I mean, it's a miracle the Sagan's Voyage didn't randomly explode on the way here." He turned to one of the agents he happened to know from the Vetrol Administration. "Baxter, Bowman's still alive, right?"
The agent held his hand to his earpiece, "Uh well, sir. We are still awaiting an update from Archer and his security detail."
He smirked, "Him being dead would be very inconvenient." He then spoke under his breath, "And Williams would be bitching to me about it to no end."
After a moment of the agent nodding in acknowledgement to what he was hearing, he turned to Bishop.
"Mr. Bishop. The President and his convoy are fine."
"Well that's good enough for me," He turned to his assistants, "But just in case. Patterson, Wells, status?"
"An HK M-5 Phalanx, collapsed into place," reported Wells, tapping just under the left armpit of his coat, where his holster was discreetly located.
"Two Colt-Kalashnikov 6.5mm Autos." She lifted her right leg, where one was hidden underneath her pant leg, and pointed to her left sided holster under her coat.
Wells looked at her, surprised by her load out, "You use Colt-Kalashnikov?"
Patterson laughed, "You can't beat a classic KC."
"She has you there, Wells. Fortunately for you, the military disagrees. Anyway, just remember," he pulled out his own weapon, a Colt-Kalashnikov M-2111, and pulled the slide back. Immediately, a 11mm round popped out and landed on the floor, everyone turning their attention to it as the round hit the ground and rolled on the thin carpeted floor. "Oops, guess it was loaded. Anyway, activate your metal dampener fields. And two rules! One: Don't fuck them up. That's the military's job. We are guests, not an infiltration force. And two, following your earlier line of conversation: Don't fuck them up. That's the diplomats' job. We don't want to create an intergalactic incident because you decided to create some damn human hybrid… yet."
The same agent walked up to Bishop and whispered to his ear.
"Uh, Bishop. President Bowman wanted us to… heavily insist that you do not carry weaponry onto the Citadel."
"Are you going to escort me, Baxter?" he asked, knowing his answer as he gave the agent a straight look.
"Unfortunately, no. We are only allowed on the docks, as agreed by the diplomats."
He looked at him, annoyed, "Then no! The last time I walked into an important meeting unarmed, terrorists launched an attack on the Firmist HQ and tried to kill me, some rookie National Guard soldier shoved me out of a fourth story window to save my ass and we landed on top of my brand new 34' Edison. Then I had to fight my way across London with a broken back, carrying that same wounded soldier in one arm, and a KC-10 heavy assault rifle in the other!"
"Well sir, that was how you met your wife."
"I know Baxter…" Bishop then smiled, reminiscing as he looked up, "It was a magical night… But I'm not here to find true love; I'm here to tour an ancient Prothean site repurposed into the capital of galactic civilization… and some other stuff. Now open the doors. If paramilitary forces, eighteen years of alcoholism, and being in the damn Navy can't kill me, then some alien air won't either."
"Yes Mr. Bishop." He signaled to the others as he activated the comm system on his watch, "Fianchetto is on the move!"
Part 3:
Matriarch Benezia and Spectre Kryik
Wards Dock
July 1, 2167 11:00:00 UTC
At the docks, Benezia sat in the waiting area near Dock D24. Above her on the walkway, Terran Secret Service agents stood guard near the doors leading to the Pierpont, barely eighty meters in length. Outside the spacious viewport was the ship of the special Terrans. At each corner of the dock, C-Sec officers stood at their post, an eye on the Terrans only a few meters away from them. Nihlus was standing near her as he waited.
"It seems rude to keep us waiting," commented Nihlus.
"Both sides are taking precautions," replied Benezia as she sat up in her seat, "Let them get themselves ready…"
She looked up to the platform as the Terran agent signaled a nearby C-Sec officer. As the Terrans turned to the door, the officer alerted Nihlus. He turned to where Benezia was sitting, only to notice she was gone and already walking up the short steps to the platform. He quickly rushed over to her side. They turned and walked towards the doors, the agents confirming their orders. They stopped and waited as one of the agents nodded to the other and turned to the control panel to open them.
"Fianchetto is on the move. Repeat Fianchetto is on the move."
The Matriarch and Spectre watched as the doors opened and three Terrans walked out into the light from the viewport. The one to their right was Wells, a tall male with a pale complexion and brunette hair, dressed in a light grey suit with a sweater vest under his coat. The one to their left was Patterson, a Terran female just a tad bit shorter than Bishop with a suit similar to Ambassador Goyle, a maroon color instead. The one in the middle, leading them out was Bishop, in a dark grey suit, coat open. His hair was neat and greying, he had a darker tan complexion then the others who were white and pink. Benezia figured for plenty of obvious, and some subtler reasons that he was the leader of the pack.
The Terrans quickly walked up to them, Bishop extending his right hand towards her. Noting the human's form of greeting, she did the same, staying in place. He quickly rushed in to shake her hand, getting a firm grip as he locked eyes with her to get a sense of the feminine alien. She was quick to recognize what he was doing and did the same, her seemingly feminine humanoid hand matching Bishop's grip and giving an even tighter one.
"Greetings, on behalf of Humanity and the Terran people," said Bishop as they let go, still feeling the squeeze on his hand, "we come in peace."
"And a peaceful greeting to you too," she replied, putting her hands back together as she looked at each of them, "I am Matriarch Benezia of the Asari race. On behalf of my people and the entire Citadel Council, we welcome you to the Citadel."
He placed his hands back at his sides and nodded to her, standing straight in formality as he had when he had once met and talked to the high-ranking politicians and leaders, decades earlier.
"The pleasure is all ours. And my personal thanks for agreeing to meet us like this. My name is Jeremy Bishop, the CEO of Quantum Core Industry the largest mass producer in the Federation. These are my assistants, Margret Patterson and Kerry Wells." Wells quickly did a fake cough, elbowing Bishop, "Oh, and they are also the CEOs to two key subsidiaries of my company. Patterson runs Synthetic Insight, the company responsible for our Artificial Intelligence technology. Wells here runs Hahne-Kedar, one of the major arms manufactory for the Terran military." He reached over, Patterson handing him the bottle of fine wine. He gave a short bow as he presented it to Benezia, "A gift from me and my colleagues. A bottle of Bering Alliance wine, Terran year 2067: a century ago, a century aged. Bottled in commemoration of the formation of the Russo-American Star Alliance on my home world, which opened the way for world unity. A symbol of peace then, a symbol of peace now."
She reached out and he handed over the bottle, "A truly wonderful and meaningful gift. Thank you for your generosity. Agent Kryik, can you please hold on this?"
Nihlus sighed as he grabbed hold of the bottle. He gave it a glance, still lacking a visual translator. He was well aware of its chirality despite this, "It's unfortunate it isn't dextro…" He signaled an officer to come over and take the bottle from him.
Bishop turned to Nihlus, "And your Turian friend here?"
"Oh, but of course. This is Nihlus Kryik. He is a Council Special Tactics and Reconnaissance agent, or Spectre. He has been assigned as our guard for our tour today. He and his fellow agents are the best the Council as a whole has to offer in the name of galactic security."
Bishop turned to him, "How kind of the Council to send their best." He examined the agent, discreetly eyeing him, "Tell me, Agent Kryik. You must be well experienced?"
Standing at ease, Nihlus responded, "Of course. It's safe to say I have seen combat and conducted operations across the known galaxy. We are the Council's last answer short of full military deployment."
"Interesting, normally we deploy our forces first. Solves most problems quickly." He turned back to Benezia, "And you are a… Matriarch? Pardon me, I believe the exact meaning is being lost in translation."
She replied, "Allow me to clarify. In Asari culture, most Asari live their lives in three main stages. Our young first go through life as a Maiden, a stage of restlessness and curiosity, to explore and experience. After a few hundred years in, they would move into the Matron stage, where like most races in their halfway point, they settle down. Near the final centuries of our lives, we enter the Matriarch stage, a form of eldership where we impart our wisdom and the experience we have gained in life. Naturally, each Asari goes through these steps in their own pace. Do humans have similar stages of life?"
Bishop thought about it, "It's hard to compare between a short lived species like us, and a race capable of living an entire millennium. We have our youth, adult, and elder stages of life. I would argue that, as a whole, we are more focused on what we want to do throughout life. It's how Humanity has been able to achieve so much in our short time." He gave a short chuckle, "Eldership, as far as the government is concerned, is when you're old enough to collect social security. It's usually short of the average age of death."
"And you, Mr. Bishop. With what you have accomplished in your life, have you gained wisdom?"
He paused, unsure of what to say as he held his mouth open. Thinking about it, his life only brought up feelings of regret more than what he learned from his accomplishments, "If you ask me, individually, it can turn into a blur until death sweeps us away. Whether a few centuries or a few decades, we all have those pivotal moments in our lives. But what we all have in common is that once it's gone, it's gone."
Benezia nodded, fascinated by the information on her guests, and curious by his words, "How interesting. Still, my three very prominent guests, I am surprised your government would allow three heads of industry to tour the alien station of a government they are still in negotiations with."
"I have plenty of influence to go where I please," said Bishop, chuckling at the thought, "For example, my company was the one that built the ship that brought us here."
They all turned and looked out, the Sagen's Voyage holding position a hundred kilometers outside of the Citadel. Benezia nodded, "Your race must be quite capable to build such large vessels." She paused for a moment, before deciding to test his reaction about her own race's ship. "It is unfortunate we lost our own ship of a similar size."
Bishop thought about it for a moment, then remembered about the footage released. He kept a casual tone, "Ah yes, the Destiny Ascension. That was unfortunate. But you shouldn't bring ships of that size into such close quarters. I admit we could have just as easily lost the Thunder Child. Fortunately, our Naval doctrine favors close quarters, and our ships have titanium tipped bows."
She replied, "It took decades for my people to build her."
"Really?" he smiled and gave a chuckle, still staring out of the viewport, "We began laying down the keel of the Voyage just twelve days ago."
"You completed a ship that size in twelve days? Impossible!" said Nihlus, turning to the humans.
"Construction, industry, logistics. They are but trivial matters to us," he replied, waving off at the viewport.
"How fascinating." Benezia was quite surprised by the human's industrial capabilities, but just as well by Bishop's attitude of it. "We have gotten the impression your race was driven, but I didn't expect something of such immediate result."
"In our religious text, our God created the universe in six days. Pre-Revival interpretation views it as part of the awesomeness of the creator. Post-Revival views see it as the goal set forth for man to match. Oh, I'd give it a millennia or two before we can bend galaxies to our will. I mean, we barley left Earth when I was born…" he smiled and opened his arms out, "And here we are now."
"Interesting you would have such views of your religious texts," responded Benezia. In her old age, she had taken to studying the religions of her own and numerous other races. "Could you explain more?"
"You would be asking the wrong man, or race really. It has always been the human factor that determines whether our religion, or science for that matter has been good or bad."
"I can agree with your point of view, but I still have my doubts regarding your claim of that ship," said Nihlus. He was surprised himself by Bishop's claim, by both his own philosophy and his capabilities. It only seemed natural he would possibly exaggerate on the latter at least.
Bishop shrugged his shoulders, "Well, she is missing her main guns, her engines are underpowered, and her shield array and secondary systems still need calibrations. But you get what you get when you rush…"
"Your ship is… defenseless?"
Benezia quickly turned the conversation away from the thought. He must have slipped the fact from his tongue. "Why don't we continue with our tour?"
Bishop nodded in agreement, gesturing her to lead the way. The officers stood at their posts as they walked down the hallway to the screening post, leaving the view of the agents still at their position at the gate. They passed the security screening post, the finest bio scanners in the galaxy, with several officers behind the counter manning it. As the Matriarch led them through, the officers noticed a slight glitch on their body scanners. The Terrans were being read with a slight spike of radiation, but it could be dismissed as a glitch since the radiological sensors weren't going off.
As they walked out towards the elevator, Bishop sighed out of relief. Their blockers, based also off of a Quarian infiltration system, used mass effects fields to cloak illicit objects. As for the blinding of the mass effect field, he had Williams to thank. After the investment he gave, he was set on getting a return from Terra's shadow.
Part 4:
The Tour - Presidium
July 1, 2167 11:20:00 UTC
"Now look at that view…"
Bishop and Wells looked out the view from their elevator as it arrived from the docks and began its slow ascent up the walls of the Presidium. They looked around, taking note of the many attractions. There were the lakes that spanned the ring of the Presidium, buildings that spanned high across the lake, the numerous crowded lanes of skycar traffic. Completing it all was the fake skyline, the blending of white buildings and green flora, and the wide-open view.
The others were more distracted with other thoughts. Music was playing all the while. Nihlus was checking his omnitool, reading through the reports of other agents and officers who were pre-checking the path Matriarch Benezia had chosen for the tour. Combined with increased security across the Presidium, and the decrease of Ward patrols, almost everything was within the Turian agent's satisfaction.
"Wait, so what is going on?" He kept himself at a corner of the elevator, trying to keep his call private from Benezia and the Terrans. "On the Wards? They're held up there, correct? Then keep them there and keep me updated on the situation… No Pallin, use the officers you have on hand. The Council wants the Presidium secured for the rest of the diplomatic talks… Yes, that's a direct order from the Council. Kyrik out!"
He leaned back and rested his head on the wall, sighing. On the other side of the elevator, Patterson stood next to Benezia. The aged Asari was waiting patiently. The younger human had her arms crossed, annoyed.
"So… slow," she said slowly.
Wells looked back for a second, "Hey, the music is nice."
"I hate you, Kerry."
He chuckled as he looked back out of the window, "I love you too, Maggie."
"A bit… impatient?" asked Benezia, curious about Patterson's annoyance.
She sighed, "Our old space elevators are faster than these."
Benezia looked at her, took a quick glance at Bishop and Wells, then back to Patterson. With such an up close look, she looked at her with fascination. For so many reasons, these humans had been sparking her interest. They were young, and they were ever so capable. They had built an empire that seemed to be able to rival the Council. And finally, they looked so much alike. She had seen the images broadcasted a month earlier. She saw their leaders introduce themselves to the galaxy. Humanity bared such a resemblance to them; It was almost uncanny.
But Benezia looked on at the young female human. Her gender was almost identical to the Asari. Her legs were straight, her body form matching in shape and curvature. She had five digits on her hands and most likely feet as well. Her face was young and feminine like an eighty-year-old Asari that had just moved out of her parent's house. Though Patterson might not have liked the complement that she looked like she was eighty. She was only forty-two. The only difference was the skin color, and her head of hair. At one point, the Quarian female came close, but the humans somehow got both qualities.
"I noticed… my race and your race's females, like yourself, bear a striking resemblance."
Patterson took a quick glance. "Huh, oh, yah." She appeared seemingly eager to not entertain the thought as she looked forward again.
Benezia almost felt like entertaining the more far-fetched idea that they might be Protheans after all. The humans seemed so advanced, and recent research indicated the ancients might have watched the Asari. The idea that Patterson might be a Prothean, and that she uplifted them in her image as the Goddess Athame made her giggle.
Patterson noticed and turned to her, Benezia finding herself a bit embarrassed. But she hid it well and decided to move on. Most races had always seen the Asari as the attractive females they were viewed for, even though they were mono-gendered. She wondered about the humans and their state of sexuality.
Benezia took a step closer to her, Patterson turning to her in confusion. She lifted her hand and gently touched the pinkish white skin of the human, slowly brushing her blue palm down her smooth skin. Patterson quickly objected for a moment as she saw Benezia grow closer to her, but was suddenly paralyzed as she felt her soft, cool hand caressing her cheek. She stood there, stunned, slowly glowing red. Her jaw dropped about and she stared on as Benezia leaned closer to her and they locked eyes, the allure of the Asari overwhelming the human.
As they're elevator near the top, Wells turned back, surprised at the sight. He elbowed Bishop, who turned and his eyes went wide with amazement at what he saw. The Matriarch's face was right in front of her, Benezia was smiling as she gazed at Patterson, observing her reaction. Patterson was slowly trembling with a flow of mixed emotions, still paralyzed by the Asari. She felt the Asari's breath against her face, yet she was struggling to remember to breathe.
Bishop turned to Nihlus, calmly asking, "So… is that normal?"
Nihlus turned his head, grunted, and resume to rest it back as he answered, "Two things the Asari are great at. One: Using their arousal and sexual prowess to fuck your brains out. Two: Using their superior biotic abilities to beat all your blood out. And I had the unfortunate experience of the latter, against a damn Justicar."
Benezia took notice of the male's confusion and asked, holding Patterson in her grasp. "She seems so tense. Do humans normally act this way when put in situations like this?"
Wells chuckled and replied, "She's not willing to admit that, like most humans, she goes either way."
"How interesting." She stood back up and let go of her control over her. Patterson stood there for a moment, before she finally snapped. She was in shock, sweating feverishly as she took multiple deep breaths. Benezia was clearly amazed by how little contact it took to stimulate her. "I hope I did not…"
"No, no… it was alright. I mean, it was… customary for your race to do that… right?" She said, hoping what happened was a normal reaction.
"For the young, maybe. But I was truly curious about you and your race." She leaned over and moved closer once more, "Now, I'm more interested in you…"
"Uh…" The elevator finally arrived at its destination, the doors quickly sliding open to the upper levels and balconies overlooking the Presidium. "Oh look, we're here…" Patterson quickly walked out.
Part 5:
Adult Video Producers - Presidium
July 1, 2167 12:00:00 UTC
"We're ruined!"
Aphra Hera and her Turian 'colleague' Dionysus Bacchus slowly walked down the walkway on the Presidium. Dionysus knew his Asari friend was right. But he didn't want to admit it.
"Are you sure? There must have been something left on the servers."
Aphra was ecstatic, "It's all gone, across the entire extranet! Every copy on everyone's server, computers, omnitools; wiped cleaner than an Ardat-Yakshi monk's browser history. Even Citadel Archives got hacked. From Asari Confessions to Vaenia. And with the market focus on armament and defense, the entire industry lacks the financial support to rebuild."
He sighed, utterly confused, "Spirits, who could have done this?"
"Could have been some damn Salarian on some moral crusade. And I was making a killing with all those damn Quarians."
They then noticed the increase presence of C-Sec officers on the level as they approached. As C-Sec drones scanned people walking by, they approached an officer to ask what was going on.
"What's with the security?" asked Dionysus.
The officer turned his head over to the balcony, where the Terrans where.
"Some rich Terrans are touring the Citadel while their leaders are in talks with the Council."
"Hmm," she looked closer, noticing two of the younger ones leaning against the railing and enjoying the view. "Dion."
"Yah?"
"Look at that one Terran, I think it's a female."
He looked over, noticing the female, "Spirits, she looked like an Asari with hair!" But he saw something more importantly, the male. "And is that a male version?"
"And they're rich?" She smiled, the alluring smile of a scheming Asari. Knowing the Council, the peace was inevitable, meaning so will their wealth being accessible as well, "I got a plan… Officer, could we… talk to them?"
He shrugged his shoulders, looking to his omnitool, "The scanners read you as clean. Just be aware they have a Spectre as their guard."
"Oh no worry. We just wish… to discuss business."
As they walked over, she nodded to him. Dionysus removed his jacket, straightening his posture and flexing his metal arms. Aphra unbutton her blouse and tightening her breast, her blue glossy cleavage sure to do the work they always had. She puckered her lips and applied her lipstick, a glossy dark blue.
"Gold, no… Silver, no… maybe Platinum…" As Bishop typed furiously on his watch, an alert appeared, "What… oh. I guess we're making a detour."
Bishop and his team stood at the edge of a balcony at the highest level, overlooking the Presidium. The Matriarch and her Spectre were a few meters away, discussing something of importance as they gave the Terrans some privacy. The level was mostly clear, with minimal civilian traffic and with C-Sec officers scattered about. Bishop was doing his own important task, as his assistants argued a couple meters away.
"I know you like her," said Wells as they leaned on the railing.
Patterson quickly responded in frustration, "Shut up!"
He laughed, "Come on, admit it! Those reports of the Asari are dead on. Almost no one can resist their allure."
"And what about you?" she asked, not letting Wells put the pressure on her.
"Please, Maggie. You know me better than that." They turned and looked over at the Turian some distance from them. "God, I love a man in uniform."
"I'll… keep my options open."
"An incredibly beautiful alien throws herself at you and you say no? I swear, your AIs have more of a libido than you."
Bishop turned to them. "We can talk about Patterson's suppressed sexual feelings and you wanting to bang our guard another time. Now then... Helium?"
As he continued doing his calculations, Aphra and Dionysus approached them. Patterson and Wells turned back, noticing the beautiful Asari and handsome Turian in front of them.
"Good day. If I may ask, are you one of those Terrans?" asked Aphra, locking eyes with her as she gave that smile with her dark blue lips.
Patterson stuttered for a moment before answering, "Uh, yes we are. I am Margret Patterson, CEO of Synthetic Insight. This is my colleague, Kerry Wells, CEO of Hahne-Kedar. Over there is our boss, Jeremey Bishop."
Bishop gave a quick wave, not paying attention.
She paid no attention to the aging, less attractive human and turned back to the young female, "How interesting. Well, as common citizens, we welcome you to our station, and wish you good tidings."
"As do we, to you too."
"If I may ask..." She took a step closer, Patterson once more blushing as Aphra grew closer. Aphra couldn't tell what was more amazing; the fact the Terran human looked so much like an Asari, or how quickly she got hold of the human, growing more red as she got closer, body and all. "I have a business proposition to ask of you."
Patterson suddenly felt the Asari's hand behind her, before being pulled right towards her. Being pressed against her, she looked at her blue face, her tattoo lines drawing Patterson's eyes to her own, down to her blue shinning lips, then finally, her cleavage, only inches below her face.
"Uh, sure?"
Dionysus noticed the male looking on. He seemed to be enjoying the sight, but from some sort of humor in the whole thing then anything sexual. Maybe this Terran male wasn't interested as his female friend. Dionysus reasoned, he might be interested in someone else.
"Your friend seems… interested."
Wells chuckled, "Oh yes. We been noticing."
"And you, sir?" The Turian decided to make his own move. Both he and his friend were more than producers and business people. "Your friend found the Asari. Have you found someone of your fancy?"
Wells suddenly found himself being approached by the Turian. He looked on at his clean, dark metal skin, his face tattooed with an alluring teal mark that brought out his eyes.
"I have been interested with the variety the galaxy has to offer," he said, crossing his arms. He leaned back against the railing, trying to keep his cool unlike his colleague. With both their jobs running, neither been playing the field. He smiled and nodded, but was just as excited as Patterson. Finally, an alien was coming on to him, "You yourself are quite a specimen."
Dionysus gave a small chuckle, advancing on the Terran, "Well, maybe we can have a conversation like our friends here?"
"Insufficient data inputted for variable B."
"Bah, I thought so."
Bishop turned away from them, walking down the balcony, typing in new data from his own knowledge of the Terran economy, while his Emily program skimmed the Extranet for Council economic data. He knew, once they open ties with the rest of the galaxy, the framework to connect the two economies together would be created. But it is an absolute necessity that he and the Terran leaders know how they stacked up against the Council's galactic market. One way to do that was to do a value comparison of key products and material mediums, and compare it to potentiality how much each side has. Bishop's great grandfather, Jeremiah Bishop, created a special theoretical equation for that very situation after the development of Warp Drive. It had a 76% accuracy when using old empires from the past for comparison, like between Renaissance Europe or Imperial China.
Bishop browsed through numerous tabs on his screen. Naturally, it had to take account for the fact that two completely different races would have different forms of value medium. Gold and Silver were still precious metals to them. To numerous smaller races' currencies, it was still their standard. But since the expansion into the galaxy, humanity had discarded Gold as nothing more than a conducting material and Silver as a cheap cultural lining for their paper dollars. Copper, common on Earth, proved weirdly rare in the colonies, though Platinum kept its value. Food stuff won't have work either because of the numerous biological barriers between them.
"Well, we can't flood the market with the metal; we'll end up devaluing it for them and deflate our own currency. What of Massatanium? No, No, we blew our stockpile during the Revival and the rest is all under government control. We have no need for it besides scientific study, and we can't sell it to them… Helium! They still use Helium-3 for fusion, don't they?"
Bishop nodded adjusted the variables on his watch. The main fuel source for fusion energy in any field of engineering must be a major commodity for both sides.
He calculated Helium-3's predicted value on the Council market and compare it to the figures of production by mega-ton release by EAE back in 2166. Cross-reference with their own market's production for the current Council year.
Finally, he altered variable B and evaluate to the Asari only. The Asari economy was the envy of the galaxy. Along with their diplomatic work and technological supremacy, they had all but created the galactic economy before humanity invented the first form of banking. There was already data on their size and worth in comparison to the Turians and Salarians, so all he needed was the Terran's, and basically Humanity's standing to them.
Emily began reevaluating the value approximation. Using the key products, their value in local currencies, and an algorithmically generated set of numbers to compare how each side values said item both culturally and economically, it produced a value for each side on a scale. That ratio could then be used to calculate currency exchange, economic size and product value. Though it was far from accurate, it was a good approximation of comparing economies without going through the far longer process of letting both markets mingle with each other and waiting for years for more precise values to be generated. In economics, any data gathered was only really useful for general predictions anyway, and was often the best kind of data one could get, especially when running a galactic scale economy.
"Ah, here we are… oh. Yah, I thought as much," Bishop grunted, not necessarily surprised by what he got, but nonetheless uncomfortable with it. For all the quick advances humanity it made, Bishop knew the economy wasn't one of them. And now, every other advances they made was coming back to haunt them. To his annoyance, and relief, neither the Terran or Council government realized it.
He turned back and walked over to his assistance.
"Hey guys… what the hell!"
"Everything is on schedule, yes?" asked Benezia.
"Of course, Matriarch. We are well within the parameters of our schedule. Mr. Elkoss is en route and I arranged everything else to go as planned," replied Nihlus.
"Good," She turned back, noticing some the Terrans talking to some civilians as Bishop was walking around, staring at his screen, "Any word from the Chambers?"
"The talks are proceeding. Though it didn't take long for a Councilor to offend one of them, and for their President to threaten blowing up the Citadel with their ship. Fortunately, they then moved on to actually layout the plans for a peace treaty. Quickly, I might add."
"It's good that they moved on to serious talks."
"It's a bit uncomfortable that we could have been dead an hour ago," Nihlus thought about it, "Unless what that human said was true."
Benezia shook her head, "Now agent Kyrik, I doubt the Terrans would have come here on an incomplete ship."
"I don't know, ma'am. Either they are weaker than we thought, or that man was purposely leaking their weakness for some reason." He crossed his arms, "What can be gained from that?"
"If you truly desire to know, let us rejoin them and continue. Though I doubt he will give out any more information."
"Gladly, ma'am."
"Ah!"
They turned back and quickly ran over to the two Terrans. Patterson had Aphra in a headlock, squeezing tightly as she kicked her legs and tried to pry her way out. Wells had Dionysus leaning over the edge of the railing. He gotten a hold of his own sidearm knife and held it against his throat, the Turian holding his hand up as Wells pinned him. Nihlus raised his pistol, unsure who he was suppose to be aiming at, but Benezia grabbed hold and lowered his arm.
Bishop turned around and was startled by the sight.
"Hey guys… what the hell!"
"These two fuckers were propositioning us to do a damn porn shot with them!" Patterson tighten her lock on the Asari.
Dionysus spoke, "We just wanted to discuss a possible investment. Honest!"
"Yah," Aphra struggled to speak, "We presumed, given your reaction of us, you wanted to be part of the shooting as well."
"This isn't the fucken twenties! We have morals! And I don't want the entire fucken galaxy watching a video of me fucking you!"
Benezia spoke out, wanting to defuse the situation. She was panicking, her guest was about to kill Council citizens, "Please. Let them go. They are not a threat to you."
"Oh, fine."
Patterson let go of her grip and released the Asari. She fell to the floor and gasped for air from her choke; it most certainly didn't felt like that when she did it in her vids. Wells dropped his hand, and pulled the Turian away from the balcony before pushing him back.
"I'm keeping the knife."
Dionysus stumbled, then reached over to pick up Aphra. She stood back up and dusted herself off while buttoning herself up. They both gave them a mean glare at each of the two Terrans, who responded in kind.
"For all we know, they were the ones who destroyed the damn Extranet!" yelled Aphra.
"Extranet service have already been fully restored," said Nihlus. He couldn't believe he was now arguing with a porn star.
Dionysus argued back, pointing at the Terrans, "No it isn't! Our livelihood is ruined! And we'll be damn before we let those who did it get away with it!"
Bishop walked in between them and argued back.
"You should be ashamed of yourself! Your profession is wrong and ungodly. You got what you deserve, you damn whores. Now fuck off! If we can jam an antimatter torpedo up a Turian cruiser's ass and blow it up, then you don't want to see me jam my foot up your ass!"
They reluctantly left, grumbling all the while. Benezia turned to Bishop, intrigued by how he defused the argument.
"How interesting… Do humans hold such position on sexual material?"
"What? Oh, not really," He raised his watch, "Note to self, buy Fornax Studios."
Emily replied, having determine a problem, "Mr. Bishop, market reports indicate Harper Finances have already acquired Fornax two weeks ago."
"Damn…" He chuckled, "Oh well. And you two, I said no mating! A damn embarrassment…"
Part 6:
Bishop and Nihlus
July 1, 2167 12:30:00 UTC
"So that ship, the… Clark?"
"Oh, so I personally joined my engineers to inspect it after that raid of ours. Apparently, the antimatter regulators were sabotaged."
Nihlus looked at him, confused, "Sabotage?"
They moved towards another part of the Presidium, just another section away. Benezia was talking to the C-Sec officers, making sure no civilians approached them this time. It was clear it only ended with both sides antagonizing the other. As Patterson and Wells examined the architecture of the station, Nihlus joined Bishop at the railings, looking at the view. He also took away Wells' new knife. He couldn't have them walking around armed.
Bishop continued, calm as ever, "So normally, those things can't dish out that amount of firepower. I mean, sure, with a modification to our design, you can nuke a whole damn planet. But it's very difficult to modify the thing that turns the raw energy into a freaking explosion, even at the shipyards, and you can't carry them standard. It's a miracle the Clark didn't blow up the moment it left our bases for its exploration mission… Weird, ships like her don't travel alone."
Nihlus nodded, typing it on his omnitool, which was in transparent mode, "That is weird… Interesting to know though."
Bishop chuckled, "You want to know something else?"
Nihlus crossed his arms, "And that would be?"
"We have thirty thousand ships gathering at the border right now!" Bioshop turned back to leaning on the railing and looking out at the view, "If diplomacy fails, we stand ready to invade the galaxy."
"Really?"
"I presume you would already know," He turned to Nihlus and looked at him. The Spectre couldn't tell if he was casual staring at him or just looking at him, "I mean, you seem to be interested in every tactical fact I said."
"Wait…" Nihlus looked at him, Bishop smiling as the Spectre realized he might have been fed false information. "So everything you said…"
"Oh, no. They're true. Problem is, you can't, from a strategic point of view, use it against us. I mean, if you check the border, then yes, our ships are there. If you have the sensor technology and did the scans, which you can, you'll see the Sagan's Voyage is defenseless and fragile like a Quarian liveship. And lastly, if you attack me, or the President and his convoy, sure you can destroy the Voyage. But then our ships can surge the relays and destroy the Citadel, and the rest of our fleet can appear over your homeworlds…" he snapped his fingers, "Like that! And burn them to the ground."
Nihlus looked at him, surprised at his calm assessment of what he and the Council could have used the information, before proving the uselessness of it.
"I'm surprised you would release such information. Make such claims of what we could do and what you would do in return."
"Well, planning these things out was once a job of mine." He sighed. Bishop still remembered that time, "And let's be honest, such information is not hard to get. It's the reason why none of us have things like 'Homeworld location' contingencies. Knowing these things tend to easy, and knowing them tend to not be useful. Rule one is to plan in accordance of what your enemy could do with such knowledge. I know where Palaven is. While maybe not you, I know someone in the Hierarchy already knows where Earth is. Rule two is to never use the most obvious plan to beat your enemy. You can't attack Earth; it's too far deep in the network and too well defended. We won't do it because while I think we could win by numerical advantage; we'll lose too much and gain too little."
Nihlus was now bewildered by the Terran's statement. But he could see the human's logic. The Terrans can predict the Council's moves. And in certain key ways, they allowed the Council to know their plans. If you knew your enemy moves, but they know yours, no one would make the first move. If every option is anticipated by both sides, and both sides knew what they were doing themselves, then every plan can only really end in the long run as a disaster.
"How interesting… You know, there was a time when the Council planned and thought out such actions with a mentality like that."
"So they aren't now?" Bishop laughed for moment, "Oh good, that can be advantageous for us."
"What?"
"I'm kidding agent Kryik. We already know. And so does the Council, to a degree. But the true advantage comes from factors no side knows…" He looked back, noticing Benezia walking back to the with Patterson and Wells, "The advantage goes to who can learn of a weakness that their enemy doesn't even know exist."
Nihlus chuckled. He was starting to see that Bishop wasn't some rich pompous idiot. Well, he was sure he wasn't the latter, anyway. "Terran businessmen seem well adapt in such philosophy of strategy. Are your politicians as well?"
Bishop chuckled, "If I wanted to, it would be me, not President Bowman, meeting with the Council. But that was a long time ago…"
Benezia arrived, "Mr. Bishop, I hope the view was enjoyable."
"Of course! Truly a galactic wonder the Citadel is. The Protheans truly left a legacy with this station… I don't see how we can match something like it."
Nihlus commented on his last words, "But you're trying?"
Bishop chuckled, "Well, it is no secret back home. Here, the Widow system holds the largest relay junction in the galaxy. But our own version, Arcturus, is only slightly smaller and connects to the rest of the entire Federation. Once the only gateway to Earth, we have been planning on constructing our own station as a new capital for years now. Just recently, the government finally granted approval for construction."
Benezia nodded, fascinated by the idea, "So you plan to build your own version of the Citadel?"
He chuckled and shook his head, "Even I know we can't match this station. But we are on our way. Arcturus Station will soon be the heart, the soul, and the shield of our nation."
"A sight to behold once you're done. I hope to see it one day."
Nihlus commented, "Yes, a strategically located area, like the Citadel. A gateway to your home world and to the rest of the Traverse. I hope to see it too… as a guest of yours."
"I relish the thought," he said with a smile, "Shall we continue?"
"Of course, Mr. Bishop. There are many parts of the Presidium you haven't seen yet. I assure you, the remaining tour shall be calm and pleasant."
"Well, actually," he interrupted. He had been informed some time earlier of his drop off point. It was far from Benezia's planned tour, and it might be far from pleasant, "I was hoping to see a glimpse of the cities located on the Citadel's arms… Wards, you called them, yes?"
Benezia was quickly at a loss with his want to deviate from the tour and the Presidium. Most people, especially high value guests and diplomats, rarely entered the lower cities of the Citadel. The Wards were no different than the cities on most worlds. Vibrant downtown areas in some parts, but slums and less desirable places throughout.
She replied, hoping to place them back on her planned tour, "While the Wards are an interesting place, home to millions alone, there is nothing of major significance you may want to see. Especially, given the short time you have with us."
Bishop answered back, "Nonsense! It sounds like my home city before Unification. An alien version sounds like a great place to see and learn… But of course, if there's some problem to me going, I understand."
"But of course not. As our guest, you deserve to see the entire Citadel. May I suggest we visit one of the more well visited areas, Zakera Ward, forward section?"
"I put my faith in your judgment." Thank God these aliens are easy to manipulate, he thought. He barely had any faith in his own abilities anymore, let alone those of others.
Nihlus spoke out, "Matriarch, we can't deviate there." He leaned in closer to her ear, "There is a C-Sec raid in process. Executor Pallin has taken personal control of the scene to deal with it."
"Then we'll head to the neighboring section. It should be sealed off. But we can't go anywhere else. If they saw what the rest of the Wards are like, it won't look good on us." Benezia was still worried. With everything going on, the Terrans' appearance had the combined effect of civilian unrest. With the death of Fin possibly by their hand as well, the Wards had seen an increase in crime to fill in the vacuum. She turned back to them, "The day grows old. Let us continue, shall we?"
"Yes! Lets."
"Can we please take a faster elevator?" remarked Patterson as they walked away. Benezia took lead with Nihlus as they followed. Bishop trailed them by a few meters.
Keeping his voice low, he activated his comm and reported in.
"Shodan. This is Fianchetto. Be advised. On the move. Heading to neighboring section of initial meet up. Require change of meet up, over."
A moment of pause followed, the message being sent back to the Pierpont, then the Sagan's Voyage, through QEC back to Earth, then back to the Citadel's AI. Peter then responded. "Copy. Heading to your location. Be advised, area will be hot. Out."