"I'm sorry Garrus, but my answer is no. Real turians learn to live with the consequences of their actions. Those people operate in a world without consequence. They answer to no one. They follow no code. They murder, manipulate and betray, all under the banner of a hypocritical government. There is no justice in that."
Jakar Vakarian, after blocking his son's nomination to the Spectres.
...
Chapter 5: Hide and Seek
"The proceedings of the Galactic Citadel Council are hereby called to order."
The grand architecture of the council chamber arched overhead. Designed by the Reapers themselves, the style was a minimalist array of bare metal surfaces, coursing with synthetic veins and corridors that seemed to pulse with an organic presence. Upon entering the council chamber for the first time, many visitors described a sensory overload. As a Hanar statesmen once put it, "This one's body was electrified and turned to stone...metaphorically of course."
At the center of the dais sat Councilor Cassus. The aging Salarian leaned deeply into the cushions of his chair, one elbow perched on a gilded armrest, his body draped in priceless silks, spun by the mottled tree spiders of Sur'Kesh. To his right sat Councilor Tarquin. Tarquin, a turian war hero, and beloved by his people, was perched on the edge of his seat. He used no cushions or armrests. His dark eyes flitted back and forth across the room. To the left of Cassus was an empty chair. Councilor T'Sukk was still absent from the Citadel. Whatever her business on Illium, it had been important enough to keep her away from the proceedings.
The first order of business was a complaint by the batarian hegemon, Ka'hairal Balak. At the beginning of the war, when the Reapers first poured out of dark space, the batarians had taken the brunt of the attack. Their most populated worlds had been so decimated by orbital strikes that the atmospheres were still clouded with vaporized radon and ferric dust. The oceans were poisoned, and all agriculture was stripped from the soil. Not a single batarian was left alive on the ground. The attacks on Earth, Palaven, and Thessia had been mild by comparison.
The batarians were left drifting aimlessly through hostile space, dodging Reapers, mercenaries, and hostile governments. At the height of their despair, Shepard pleaded with Balak to join his galactic alliance. The fighting would be tough, but everyone would survive together. Balak, still mourning the fall of his own race, trusted in Shepard's reasoning. Still reeling from their losses, the weary batarian fleet met up with the allied forces at Earth and helped push the monsters back toward the charon relay. After the battle, it was decided that the salarians, who had suffered the least at the hands of the Reapers (Sur'kesh had not seen a single enemy ship), would provide the batarians with land on some of their most hospitable planets. Under pressure from the council, the salarians agreed, and the batarians were overjoyed.
The agreement seemed solid, but it crumbled almost immediately. As soon as the first refugee ships approached their destinations, they were refused landing clearance and turned away by salarian fighters. The salarians had gone back on their word.
Now the batarians circled the promised planets, waiting for a place to land. Fuel was running short, and tempers were running high. Things looked bleak, and the batarians, who were looked upon as brutes and terrorists by the rest of the galaxy, had run out of friends.
As Balak approached the council, the look of fatigue was clear on his face. With the entire batarian race looking to him for leadership, the once proud warrior had not slept in weeks.
Councilor Tarquin spoke first.
"Ka'hairal Balak you have been invited here today to present your request. The council will hear it now."
Balak, who was known for his rage and quick temper, raised his eyes to the councilors. They were expecting an outburst, perhaps even violence, but he would not oblige. The council had granted him this one session. They would not give him another. The fate of his people rested on their decision. The opportunity was too important to waste on pride. Maintaining a measured tone, he began.
"Councilors, I come before you as a member of a broken race. Our worlds are gone. Our resources are lost. Our ships are drifting without purpose or destination; running cold to preserve fuel. Millions of batarians huddle together on those ships and wait for news of aid...aid that will not come. This very morning I had to lie to my advisors about the strength of our food reserves so that they will not panic. In months they will be empty, and our fuel tanks will be dry. As a child I was taught to accept death before calling for help, so I hope you understand what it means for me to come here today and beg for yours."
Cassus rolled his eyes and looked off to one side.
"I know you have no strategic reason to help us. But I do not ask for much; only what the salarians promised us. A place to land our ships... a refuge from the coldness of space.
They have more than enough to spare. The council saw that once, why do they not see it now."
With that he looked back to the floor and was silent.
Tarquin opened his mouth to reply, but Cassus cut in.
"So the salarians are supposed to just hand over some of the most sought after territory in the galaxy; land that they fought to attain in wars of their own?"
Balak looked up. "They gave me their word."
"Ah yes. Tell me batarian, why is there no record of this supposed 'promise' in the Council record?"
"The delatrass shook my hand and told me it was as good as done. She told me to mobilize my colony ships... that we would be welcomed with open arms."
"So we are to trust your memory of an undocumented event. A story made all the more dubious by the suggestion that a delatrass would touch one of your filthy hands."
Balak's eyes blazed. He was struggling to restrain himself. "Don't you understand? They are going to die! All of them."
"And what is stopping them from finding an unsettled world of their own?"
"There are no unsettled worlds! The stronger species are already fighting over every inch of territory. How are we supposed to compete?"
"Then perhaps you should accept your place as a weaker species and move aside."
"How dare you! What if the Reapers had come through a different relay? What if they had attacked Sur'Kesh and spared us? You are only alive because of your own dumb luck. You sit there in your dress, wielding authority over billions of lives, dealing life and death like toys...one day the people here will see how useless you really are."
"Now listen to me batarian! I will not be barked at by a wild dog in my own chamber!"
"Back a wild dog into a corner salarian, and you will see that his bark is not what you should worry about."
Cassus averted his eyes and waved his hand. "I think I've heard enough. The batarian's request is denied. Let his people drift."
Balak clenched his fists and stepped forward. "I swear on my honor as a warrior that I will make you pay for this."
Cassus laughed. "You have no honor left batarian, and your days of playing warrior are over. What do you propose to threaten me with."
"I still have ships."
"Your ships are worthless. Soon to be floating tombs, full of frozen batarian corpses. My only concern is that when they do fall from the sky, they don't land on anything too important."
Cassus tapped a key on his Omni-tool.
"Matter dismissed. Who's next?"
…
"Oh, excuse me." said the flustered quarian as she bumped into Shepard's chest. "I wasn't looking where I was going and I..." She looked up and met his eyes. Hers seemed to glow a bit brighter. "Commander Shepard! Keelah I didn't recognize you at first. I'm so sorry. I didn't-"
"It's OK. I was distracted too. Are you alright?" Shepard asked, taking a moment to survey his new acquaintance. She wore an inexpensive environmental control suit, wrapped in a vibrant blue and gold pattern. Tali had once told him that from suit pattern alone, one could deduce the origin of any traveling quarian. The lecture involved innumerable cultural minutiae that went right over his head.
When she had collected herself she said, "Oh yes, I'm fine, but...well no actually. It's just that my daughter Tia has wandered off, and I have no idea where she could be. She's only a child and I'm worried sick. She's so curious for her age and always finding her way into trouble. She could be anywhere. I hate to ask but... Do you think you could help me find her?"
"have you tried asking Csec for help?"
"Csec couldn't care less about the troubles of Quarians. At best they would give me some paperwork to fill out and then just ignore the problem."
Shepard opened his mouth to disagree, but then realized that she might have a point.
"Alright. I can talk to them for you. Her name is Tia?"
"Tia Vi'it. Here is a picture for you." She handed it to him "I can't thank you enough Commander!"
"Thank me when we find her. Until then-"
Shepard noticed something over the quarian's shoulder that stopped him in mid sentence.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll let you know if anything comes up."
He turned around and took a few hurried steps in the opposite direction. He thought he might have gotten away, but then he heard her voice.
"Commander Shepard! Got a minute for the nightly news?"
"Not today Khalisa, I'm in kind of a rush."
She ignored the comment and kept walking, a news camera hovering over shoulder.
"Would you care to comment on recent changes here at the Citadel?"
Shepard moved a little faster.
"There is word of Csec abuse in the lower wards. Unwarranted arrests, people going missing, strange warships massing on the edge of the nebula. Some say that councilor Cassus is building an army; that he plans to bring the entire Citadel under martial law. Some even say he is working with Exogeni to engineer new kinds of soldiers... That one of his assassins can change her face at will."
Shepard kept walking. "no comment"
Well then, will you at least comment on rumors of quarian pilgrims being rounded up and shipped out, never to be heard from again. Or samples of the genophage being unthawed from cold storage. Something is happening here Commander, and you are just looking the other way. Are you planning on abandoning the people you swore to protect?"
Shepard stopped in his tracks and spun to face her.
"I am not abandoning anyone! When will you give up this tabloid garbage? I know what you're trying to do. Your usual gossip columns aren't selling, so you're switching to cheap fear tactics. There's more to journalism than stirring up rumors. Now get off my back."
For a moment she was stunned speechless. A cold stare from Shepard was enough to shut anyone up. Then she simply nodded and pressed a key on her microphone. The light on her camera flicked off and the device came to rest on her palm. Her eyes met Shepard's, and in them he detected a look of genuine fear.
"Alright Shepard, you want honesty? Honestly and off the record... I'm worried. I have been reporting here for a long time and I've never seen things like this. Everyone is so damn happy about the war being over that they're missing what's happening right in front if them. Cassus is making some sort of power play, and he doesn't care who he has to silence to make it happen. Anyone who starts digging into his business has disappeared. We need you to stand up and face him. And you're going to need help."
She pulled up a screen on her omni tool.
"I've been tracking down your old crew. Some of them were easy: General Vakarian and Admiral Zorah are stationed on Ranoch, building a house for their new daughter. The Justicar Samara is on Illium serving as protection for Councilor T'sukk. Others were harder. Zaeed Masani is working as an arms dealer on Omega under the alias 'The Combustor.' Ashley Williams is on an undercover mission somewhere in..."
"Enough!" Shepard snapped. Those people have already sacrificed more than you will ever understand. I'm not dragging them into your little conspiracy theory just to sell news. The only thing Cassus is guilty of is being an egotistical jerk. There are three councilors. There is no way that one of them could seize power on his own."
"Three? T'Sukk is missing, and Tarquin is not asking any of the hard questions."
"What hard questions? They are doing their jobs. Why don't you get back to yours?"
"I didn't expect this from you Shepard. I thought you would understand what it's like to try and warn people that don't want to listen. I know you don't respect what I do, and god knows I can't blame you. But when you stood up against the Reapers, you made me believe that one person can make a difference. I want to help. I risked my life getting some of this information, but it's all for nothing if you don't back me up. You've taken us this far, but the war isn't over yet. The galaxy needs you to finish what you started."
"you're a worse actress than you are a journalist. The Reapers are gone, there is no conspiracy, and the war is over. What this galaxy needs is fewer parasites like you!"
The outburst left a sheen of tears in her eyes. Without a word, she gave a subtle nod and turned back toward the crowd. As she stepped away, Shepard heard her say under her breath. "Well you may be done fighting, but I'm not."
...
Every rotation on the Citadel was marked by a demonstration from one of the leading merchant guilds. It served as a chance for the organizations to demonstrate their success during the trading year. This particular rotation was given to the Krogan Antiquities Guild. The exhibit was perched on a converted landing pad in the Cirulla Ward. The shuttles and docking equipment had been cleared off to make room for a stunning array of artifacts from across the galaxy. The pad was diamond shaped, with four spiral towers; one at each corner. The spires reached high above the show floor and were covered with arrays of multicolored lights. At the center of the pad was the night's most prized piece; a thirty foot tall statue hewn from a solid piece of Tuchankan red rock. It was an ancient depiction of a krogan soldier, long before the advent of gunpowder.
Tia strolled past some of the more colorful exhibits. From within her isolation helmet she made faces at the onlookers and giggled to herself. Sometimes it was fun to be a quarian.
Before long, she grew bored of the sculptures and much more interested in the illuminated towers. she walked up to one of them and craned her neck upward. The sight made her head swim. She placed a hand on the surface and walked around to the back side, away from the crowd. There she found a maintenance ladder that led all the way to the top. Being six years old, and born with a congenital lack of fear, Tia started climbing up.
She moved quickly up the rungs, taking them in twos and threes. Her little quarian feet tapping rhythmically against the steel. In a matter of minutes she reached the last rung and hoisted her body up onto the platform. Tia dusted off the front of her suit and stared out over the display. From up here the giant statue looked no bigger than an ordinary Krogan. She stepped to the edge to get a better view.
"I'd be careful if I were you." came a voice from the darkness beside her. "That's a sixty foot drop onto a very solid surface."
Tia looked toward the source. There, sitting on the platform edge, with her feet dangling over the side, was a human female in a green dress. She looked up and smiled. Tia was surprised, but far from scared. She stepped back from the edge and nodded.
"Aren't you a little young to be climbing all the way up here?"
"No." Replied the quarian defiantly, "I can climb anything"
Kasumi smiled and looked down at the crowd.
"well I do like your enthusiasm, and I have to admit that I was sleeping on rooftops by the time I was your age."
"Are you a good climber?"
"You could say that. Only human alive to scale Jutai tower freehand."
Tia tilted her head, not completely understanding the implication. Kasumi pulled up her feet and stood.
"You know you actually show some talent. I saw you making your way up here. You've got speed, power, coordination... your technique just needs a little refinement."
"I didn't know you were watching me."
"Most people don't"
"so what's wrong with my technique?"
"First of all, you're pulling with your arms. Real power comes from your legs. Use your arms only to fine tune your jumps. If your fingers hurt the next day, you're doing it wrong."
Kasumi took a step closer.
"Also, you were planting with the soles of your feet. If you stay on your toes, you get a lot more power from your calves. It's harder to balance at first, and you'll definitely get some bruises on your knees, but eventually you'll be faster and much more silent. It makes all the difference when you've got a gunship on your butt."
"why would you have a gunship on your butt?"
Kasumi leaned forward on the railing
"No reason."
Tia leaned next to her.
"So what are you doing up here anyway? Are you hiding from something?"
Kasumi pushed off and sat back down on the floor.
"That's kind of a loaded question. Let's just say that I'm not very comfortable in a crowd. All those eyes on me at once... I thought I could handle it, but now I'm not so sure."
"Are you scared?"
"It took me a while to admit it to myself, but I just might be."
For a moment they both stared downward in silence. The exhibit was reaching its climax. The lights from all four towers converged on the center of the pad, and a hidden chamber underneath released a shower of luminescent nanoparticles. They swirled around the space and up along the towers. Kasumi reached out a hand and swirled them with her fingertips. Tia reached out and mimicked the move.
"So what does a little quarian girl do on the Citadel for fun?"
"Lots of things. Chasing duct rats, watching the cruisers fly past, or sometimes just playing with my friends." She looked up at Kasumi. "Want to play a game?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"How about hide and seek?"
Kasumi smiled. "I'm afraid I'm quite tired of that one. What else do you have?"