Perspective 21

With Arcturus Station gone, the political center of the Alliance had shifted and crumbled, forming a power vacuum Udina had filled. His death threw the Alliance into a state rapidly approaching chaos. For all intents and purposes, the Councilor had become defacto leader of the human race. His experience both as a steadfast lawyer and capable politician had caused what remnants there were of the Alliance's political branch to flock under his wing. His grounded, magisterial methods and single-minded devotion to humanity's cause had made him a force to be reckoned with, even before the Reapers attacked, and afterwards he had been a pillar of strength; a civilian able to match wits with aliens and admirals, and keep the military branch in check despite humanity's state of crisis. With the Earth lost, Donnel Udina had transformed the post of Humanity's Councilor into the Center of the Alliance's leadership, and himself into Defacto Prime Minister, though King may have been a better word. He had taken on the challenge of steering humanity's civilians through the greatest tragedy in Alliance history, and with him gone, someone was needed to fill the void. As the Alliance lacked both the time and the infrastructure for re-elections. There was a great fear amongst the remaining politicians and ambassadors that the admirals, who were already making so many snap decisions without consultation, would simply seize control and dissolve the parliament entirely.

Into that mess waded Dominic Osoba. The man had made a political name for himself by helping the colony world of Benning transform itself into an all-important Alliance asset. Benning had been a rather unremarkable colony before his arrival. Ten years later it was known both as a farming hub, feeding large sections of Alliance space, and as an industrial giant, its shipyards turning out new military and civilian space-faring vessels every day. This was owed to many factors, but his decades-long support and negotiations with the Alliance's military-driven ship building industry, and the farming and food industry were undeniably key to the colony's success. Benning's proximity to Arcturus had resulted in plenty of high-level parliamentary contacts, and high traffic. He had it all; the colonial workers favored him for his grass-roots support of the Working Man, the military already knew him through his extensive liaisons with their manufacturing companies, and he was admired by the parliament. What Osoba lacked in Donnel Udina's immovable weight and presence, he made up for with Charisma. He was well known for a nimble tongue and his ability to crack open otherwise hostile parties at the negotiating table. 'If you can make them laugh, you've got them.' was the piece of advice his aids most often recalled him bestowing. 'Always remember: You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar!'.

His position, his contacts, his experience, and his methods all made him a prime candidate for the position of Councilor. He was being forwarded Udina's Extranet messages by the end of the week. He had accepted the position graciously, and also rather quickly. He had been seeking a distraction from a his recent personal tragedy, as well as a method to aid the war effort in a meaningful way.

The Ambassador and his wife had been stranded at the Citadel Embassies during the Reaper attacks, and thus was already on the Citadel. however his son Bilal Osoba was very much alive, and had been stationed on Benning at the time (due in no small part to a few strings his overbearing father had pulled). Osoba had spent several months caught in the agony of uncertainty, until the news of his son's death was finally delivered to him.

That was the moment he met Commander Shepard. Though at the time he had been too overwhelmed by the news of his son's demise to pay much attention, he had spent many hours later, thinking back on the meeting.

Commander Shepard was another famous name in political circles. Shepard's promotion to Spectre was a legendary moment in human history, and it had shrouded the man in rumors and gossip. The Alliance had classified most of his military assignments, and his personal life was all but invisible, much to the disappointment of gossip tabloids. The Marine was very, very popular with the general public, of course. Just after the battle of the Citadel, he had been elevated to an outright Celebrity. Even now, with the Reaper war in full swing, it was rumored that a few stores in the Citadel still played advertisements he had recorded for them. A movie had been made about his actions, though it was widely viewed as a cash grab by the money-hungry film industry.

His apparent 'Death' was a most fascinating thing to research. In one report filed by one Jeffrey Moreau, Shepard had last been seen flying off into Alechra's orbit after the Normandy's destruction. His body was never recovered. Two years after that, rumors placed him at Omega in the Terminus systems, though the next official Alliance report had him on Horizon fighting a strange alien race called the Collectors. There was no word on what had happened to him in the intervening years. Though rumors of a deal with Cerberus had circulated the back halls of Arcturus Station, Admiral Steven Hackett had vetoed any official investigations, stonewalling all questions and burying the matter.

Then the Bahak relay incident had turned him into a scapegoat. The details of exactly what happened were unknown, and Shepard himself had apparently proven most uncooperative during interviews. The only reason he had given for the atrocity was 'I did it to stop the Reapers!'. For a time, he had been turned into an object for the hegemony to quite justifiably direct their wrath, yet recent events had entirely vindicated him in the eyes of most of the public, and his polls were showing him as more popular than ever before, despite the fact that no one was quite sure exactly what it was he was doing out there.

Of late, the Alliance had been using his image as a PR tool, with many studies showing that enrollment skyrocketed wherever the Commander's likeness was posted. He was a hero, a heartthrob, and a symbol of hope where one was desperately needed. There was a reporter stationed aboard his ship, yet her videos were heavily censored and altered by the PR goons in the Military branch, turned into little more than propaganda pieces. While entertaining and heartening to the casual listener, they offered no insights whatsoever into the man himself or his motivations.

The most striking features Osoba recalled from his short conversation with Shepard were the man's gaunt face and hollow eyes, a far cry from the unflappably brave image the Alliance kept painting. Shepard struck him as a man both wound far too tightly, and stretched far too thin. All Alliance troops were on three-week rotations, but from what reading Osoba had done, he quickly realized that Shepard and the Normandy's crew had never left the frontlines. The Normandy SR-2's docking logs showed that the ship had never actually been docked for more than fifteen hours at a time. Just enough time for refueling and repairs. Perhaps a few hours R&R for the crew before Shepard thrust his starship back into the fight.

Throughout the war, days, even weeks went by without any communication between Shepard and the Admirals. Almost all of his communications, crew information, and assignments were filed under Spectre classification, meaning that not even the admirals could gain access to them. The Spectre's reports were vague and brief. A mere nod to the council and the chain of command. For all intents and purposes, the man was operating completely independently of everyone and everything else involved in the Reaper resistance.

Yet he brought results. Somehow a treaty had been brought about between the Krogan and the Turians, a superweapon had been discovered, and a Coup which threatened all of galactic stability had been thwarted. Impressive results for a mysterious renegade with such a checkered past.

As the new councilor, Osoba strongly felt that his first act should be the investigation and resolution of the disastrous Cerberus Coup. He and his wife had been in the Wards at the time of the attack, but they had arrived back to find his apartment sacked, and the presidium in flaming ruins. There were plenty of rumors and hearsay going around. Osoba decided his first priority was to help the council sort the problem out. Humanity owed it to the Citadel.

Osoba spent seven hours in a private session with the councilors, discussing what had happened. Reparations were out of the question, what with humanity's resources being taken up by the war. The council was at least gracious enough to not pursue that recourse. Not that they could; the Alliance was not responsible for Cerberus actions. Yet there were still damages to be tallied and repairs to be shouldered, and Osoba volunteered what personnel he could to assist with both. It was a gesture of goodwill on humanity's part, and he hoped it would repair any diplomatic damages dealt by the raid, and put him on good terms in future negotiations.

The damages to the wards and the Citadel on the whole was relatively small, yet a few areas including C-Sec headquarters had been utterly destroyed. Many C-Sec officers had lost their lives, and the civilian headcounts were no better. Cerberus had targeted many heads of business. The banking district was in tatters, with quite a few dead Volus. Some of the more outspoken alien politicians had been silenced, as well as their top advisors. It was a coup attempt in every sense of the word. Cerberus had tried to swipe the heads clean off of all Anti-human factions. For the most part they had succeeded. Yet the council was still in charge, and their alliances were intact. Cerberus had failed, in the end.

As part of the debriefing, the Salarian councilor Valern had provided some rather scant evidence that Donnel Udina had Cerberus ties. Humanity's former councilor had been funneling vast sums of money into the Alliance's top secret N8 program, as well as into building more Normandy-class vessels. The strange thing was that it was all denoted as research money. The Projects had neither put boots on the ground, nor ships in the air. It was suspicious, yes, but not enough to justify shooting the Councilor in cold blood, as had apparently happened. The following morning, Osoba scheduled a meeting with the man responsible for his predecessor's death.

Commander John Shepard stood in front of Dominic Osoba's desk, looking absolutely exhausted. Osoba had no idea what actions the man had taken in the hours following the attack, but sleep clearly had not been among them.

"Good morning, Commander."

"Sir." Shepard said in a neutral tone. The marine was standing at attention, his gaze focused a foot above Osoba's head. The Councilor studied him. Shepard was not as tall as the Alliance propaganda would lead one to believe. He would have been a handsome man were it not for the rather haunted stare, and the bags under his eyes. His chin was villainously unshaven as well, and Osoba doubted Shepard had had a haircut since the war started. The man was wearing jeans and a leather jacket with the N7 Marines logo on his breast. Not standard issue gear.

"How are you feeling today, Shepard?" Osoba asked, deciding to take the friendly route.

"Sublime, sir." The response was clearly sarcasm, but in the Marine's defense, Osoba's inquiry had been rather patronizing.

"Aren't Alliance personnel supposed to be in uniform?" Osoba asked.

"I'm a Spectre, sir. And I'm off-duty."

Between the man's tall frame, lean build, quiet impatience, and haggard look, Shepard gave the impression of someone who should not be pushed too hard, or talked down to. Besides, the man had risked his life to bring back news of Osoba's son. The least the Councilor could do was speak to him like an adult.

"Do you know why you're here, Shepard?"

"I killed Councilor Udina." The man's indifference made Osoba shudder.

"According to the other councilors, a Turian friend of yours pulled the trigger."

"My operation. My responsibility. I did it, no matter who pulled the trigger."

"And how do you justify not giving him a proper trial? Was your evidence enough?"

"I'm a Spectre, not a police officer." The Commander reminded him airily. "I don't need evidence. Everything I did was perfectly legal."

Osoba frowned. Shepard was right, as much as Osoba hated to admit it. Spectres had supreme authority to carry out whatever actions they deemed fit, no matter the moral implications, or jurisdictional changes in law. Even so, he felt obligated to fight back against what may very well have been a misuse of the aforementioned power. "Not according to Alliance rules. The rule of law is an important part of our culture. It is up to the courts to prove an innocent man guilty. No one man should be judge, jury and executioner. It's too much power for one person."

"It's because of that power that we're in this fight at all, sir. Don't forget I stopped Sovereign long before the Alliance ever admitted Reapers were real. I fought even after the Council tried to ground me. My job is to win this war. Udina was preventing me from achieving that goal. You can bring back the rule of law when it starts being relevant to our survival again."

"Some would say it is more relevant than ever before in galactic history."

Shepard crossed his arms. "Those people should be the first to go and let the Reapers know. They're breaking a lot of our established laws for the conduct of 'ethical' warfare."

"A lot of the Alliance's ministers would be very disturbed by that sentiment. More than a few are afraid of another coup attempt by the Alliance Military."

Shepard scoffed. "Like the Admiralty Board has the time. You are aware that this isn't a normal war, right? We all call it that because everyone's afraid of using the real word."

"What is the Real word, in your opinion?"

"Extermination."

Osoba's frown deepened. He was growing more and more uneasy about the Commander's attitude. He had been at first grateful towards the man for collecting the information about his son, but the Commander was a far cry from the Alliance's propaganda. Osoba hadn't expected such a startling difference in attitude. Hope was the main factor. He was still confident and strong, but he was lacking hope. The Commander was not devoid of that all-important element. But his hope was a shrewd and calculated emotion, carefully controlled so as to keep realism in sight. A very far cry from the gung-ho cheer of the posters.

"According to my research you've logged nearly twice as many hours as other Alliance personnel." Osoba observed. "Aren't you stretched a little thin?"

"It's not that I've been working too hard, it's that the rest of the Alliance isn't working hard enough. In totals the Reapers already outnumber us and they don't operate on the Rule of Thirds, sir. I'll be off again as soon as we're done here."

"Where are you going next?"

"The Perseus Veil. I need to stop the Quarians and Geth from killing eachother."

Osoba began to smile, but stopped as he realized Shepard was serious. "How, exactly, do you intend to accomplish that objective?"

"I'll ask them nicely."

Another sarcastic answer. The man was clearly as unhappy being debriefed as Osoba was debriefing him. "I wasn't aware Artificial intelligences were on speaking terms with Organics."

The corner of Shepard's mouth twitched into what might have been a smile. "You'd be surprised. They'll talk, sir. Their asses are on the line just like everyone else's. and I have contacts within the Quarian leadership. They have the largest fleet in the galaxy. We need them on our side. Both of them."

Osoba raised his eyebrows, surprised. "How did you manage to open diplomatic relations with the Quarians? The Migrant fleet isn't normally on speaking terms with the Council Races. Or many others for that matter. Their community is almost completely insular."

"Read my reports from the Saren days. I had a Quarian on my crew. She gave me a way in."

"Hmm… And should I ask about the Geth?"

"No."

The two men watched each other carefully, searching for a sign that the other was going to budge. In the end, It occurred to Osoba that Shepard had stared down the barrels of far too many weapons. Conversing with the cautious councilor was probably among the easiest tasks he had been shouldered with thus far. The Commander said, "Can I ask a question, sir?"

"Of course."

"What am I doing here? What are we doing here, aside from wasting time we can't afford to lose." The Commander's tone was actually quite gentle as he reached for the nearest chair and took a seat opposite Osoba. "I've known about the Reapers from the start, sir. I've been dealing with this threat longer than anyone else. I stopped Sovereign and the Collectors, and every step I've taken including bahak was to stop this war before it started. Because I had the Prothean warnings in my head and I knew how bad it would get. With all that in mind, I'm going to ask for something not many in the Alliance have been willing to give me thus far."

"And what would that be?"

"Trust. Trust me, Councilor. I know what to do to win this. The Reapers have been planning, and so have I. My objective is to bring this galaxy together against the Reapers. I don't know where Cerberus stands, but I know that no one race can take the Reapers on alone. Trust me, I've seen the results of that. Hell, we all have. You saw what happened to the Batarians. Not to mention earth. I cured the Genophage and brought the Krogan and the Turians together. The Quarians and Geth will be there too. Along with everyone else. We'll win together or die trying, but it's the best chance we have. Maybe the only chance."

"You lost a lot of Salarian support." Osoba pointed out.

Shepard smirked, some measure of merriment finally revealing itself in his tired blue eyes. "Do you know how many shots it takes to drop an angry Krogan? I don't. Every time I run into one I keep losing count. Reaper ground forces aren't going to know what hit them. Salarians? Aside from one or two they're useless in a shooting war."

"A purely practical decision, then?"

"Not even close." Shepard sighed and gazed past Osoba, staring out the window at the Presidium. I was fighting through the ruins of Tuchanka, and I saw Krogan art. Sculptures and architecture. Civilization, from long before the Genophage swallowed it. That disease would have killed them eventually. It had to end. The Council was holding them down long after the fight was over."

"Perhaps that's justified, given their history."

"History doesn't make a person, councilor. You can't damn a new generation for what their great grandfathers did."

"Krogan live long lives, Shepard."

"There's always room for change, sir, if you can expect others to adjust for it. If the Council stops mistreating the Krogan, I believe the Krogan will start being productive members of Galactic civilization."

"You made that judgment call unilaterally?"

"I've made a lot calls. But a friend of mine made that one." Shepard rubbed his eyes. "A Salarian scientist, and a former member of the STG."

Sounds like you've met a few interesting characters in your travels."

"A few." Shepard carefully allowed. "I'm going to find the Quarians and bring them to the fight. Hopefully the Geth as well. You can do your part by making sure Civilization is still standing when I get back. Trust me. Please."

Once again they stared at eachother. Once again, Osoba folded. "Alright." He said, "I'll contact Admiral Hackett. He can get you the support you need."

"No sir."

"You don't want Alliance support?"

"I don't want the Illusive Man watching what I'm doing."

Feeling shocked and mildly insulted, Osoba let out a nervous laugh and sat back in his chair. He rubbed his chin and stared at the rogue Marine.

"You really don't have much faith in us, do you Shepard?"

"Dealing with Cerberus is like trying to play a board game where every move you make has an error in it you have to correct. So you make more moves to compensate and each of those has an error that you have to correct as well until your whole plan just spirals out of your control and into his. It's best not to deal with them at all. I have that luxury as long as the Alliance isn't involved either. You send Alliance ships into the Perseus Veil and someone on board will have orders to interfere with what I'm doing. Or they'll be collecting Geth samples to send back to Chronos Station."

"Chronos Station?"

"The Illusive Man's headquarters."

"Ever been?"

"Never had the pleasure myself, but I know a few who have."

"I think Alliance Intelligence would be very interested in talking to those friends of yours."

"I'm sure. Some of your best intelligence agents probably have orders to kill them on sight."

"The Alliance does not have a Kill List, Shepard. That's immoral." It was also true, as far as the Councilor knew.

"Never said those orders were from the Alliance, sir."

Osoba sighed and stared down at his desk, collecting himself. "Just how deep do you think Cerberus infiltration goes?"

"All the way to the top. All the way to the bottom."

The Councilor's eyes narrowed. "I'm not with Cerberus, Shepard."

"Udina was."

"That's… a fair point." Osoba grudgingly admitted. The realization chilled him. Cerberus was able to exert control over Humanity's Galactic Councilor during a time of war. The implications were disturbing, to say the least. What could Cerberus do with that much power? Obviously a fair amount, as they had just tried to claim it for themselves. And it would have worked, except for the man sitting in front him now. Actually, Shepard was standing, obviously feeling that the meeting was over.

"And what about your own crew?" Osoba asked. "They're Alliance personnel, Shepard. Do you trust them?"

"Never said I did." The Spectre started for the door. "But I have ways around that."

"Shepard," Osoba called out.

The man turned back.

"C-Sec informed me that they have another Marine locked in a cell, being held there on your orders." He checked his datapads- the first time since the meeting began. He had organized them so carefully, and yet… the conversation had been owned and directed by the Spectre. "Lieutenant-Commander Ashley Williams?"

"Yes sir." Shepard took a few steps back towards the table, his face betraying nothing of his emotions.

Osoba gave him a searching look, but the man's face remained blank. "Why was she locked up, Shepard?"

"She fired several shots at me."

"If you're determined to operate independently of the Alliance, then at least don't place our serving members under lockdown in a time of war. You put her in there, only you can get her out. By all accounts she's a hero. She saved the council from Cerberus."

"I'm sure the Alliance PR machine could make good use of that, sir."

"This has nothing to do with Alliance PR, Shepard. I was rather hoping to put her on the front lines, where she can use her skills to save more lives and win the war." Osoba said. He meant it, too. Reading the young woman's profile, she had in many ways reminded him of his son. He very much hoped she would be given the opportunity to once again prove herself.

A spark of respect ignited in Shepard's tired eyes, and he gave the councilor a curt nod. "Yes sir. I'll get it sorted out, and I'll get you better proof about Udina."

Two hours later, Councilor Osoba received an encrypted message from the Shadow Broker. Attached to the brief message were several files containing private correspondence between Udina and the Illusive Man. The logs contained plans for the Coup and Udina's rise to power. Several parts had been redacted, particularly where they pertained to Shepard and his mysterious two years' absence, however it would have more than enough to try and convict Udina, had the man been still alive. The data should have reassured him. It really should have, but Osoba only felt more unnerved than he had before.

A few hours after that, he received an anonymous, untraceable message directing him to, at a particular time in the evening, sit in a particular spot at a particular presidium café and order a particular drink if he were truly interested in winning the Reaper War and reclaiming humanity's losses. Osoba promptly forwarded it straight to the Alliance Intelligence Network. They replied with a letter promising things like 'Prompt Action' and 'proactive measures', yet when he inquired again, there was denial of all knowledge, and none of his contacts inside were replying to him. Several days after that, he thoroughly scanned his offices and found four surveillance bugs. Not to mention discreet pictures of his wife taken from a distance away through the crosshairs of a high-powered rifle.

Dominic Osoba began to grow very afraid.

Some of the Cerberus/Alliance backstory stuff , the 'N8 Program' is probably going to piss off the more evangelical fans, but fuck it. It's a fanfiction, and I intend to put it to good use, tying Sanctuary to the rest of the Cerberus Storyline in a far more relevant way. I also want Cerberus to feel far more scary than they do in-game. The actual firefights should have been a very small part of the Illusive Man's plans. His political machinations in the background are what make him so interesting and unique as a villain. He's like Xanatos in the Gargoyles T.V. show. More often than not, the good guys spend their time talking to him instead of fighting him.

14/02/18- Corrected a stupid error; changed Osoba's name to the correct spelling. Also slapped myself upside the head.