Chapter 108. No Matter the Opposition
Forty Minutes Later, 26. April 2417 AD, HSASV Normandy, Conference Room
"And that's all there is," Shepard finished, looking at the young quarian sitting opposite to her. In the last forty minutes, her mood had shifted noticeably. First she'd been curious, then invested, then terrified and - now that Shepard had explained it all – she'd turned silent. The N7 would see that as her invitation to deliver her offer. "You strike me as a smart person, Tali," she began. "So I think you know why I believe that it's crucial that we help each other. When the Reapers come, we'll all have to fight. Whether we're aligned with the Council or not."
"I-" the quarian began before fumbling with her hands. "You are right, it won't matter which side we're on when they show up," just from the way the quarian was behaving there was a but coming, Shepard could already tell. "but," there it was "I have a duty to my people. To my father. I am expected to return. I can't just go off hunting Collectors as long as the Fleet needs me. I'd love to help your people, but I just can't. I'm sorry."
"You're still worried about the geth," she figured. During their conversation, the quarian had mentioned why she'd come to Haestrom. Or at least explained a part of her motivation. Personally, Shepard wasn't entirely ready to believe that it was a simple surveying job that had brought the quarians to their former colony. But as long as she couldn't prove that there was more to Tali'Zorah's expedition, she wouldn't outright accuse her of lying to her about the reason why they'd been dug in at an old observatory next to a strangely active factory.
"They are leaving the Veil for a reason. It has to be to finish what they started," Tali stated.
"I agree with you on the first part," Shepard retorted before thinking back to the geth currently waiting down in their brig. "Something caused them to end their isolation. I'm just not certain that it's for the reasons you fear." Even if it made her sound crazy, right now she believed what the geth had told her back on Haestrom.
"Because you don't know what it's like for us. No one understands. As long as I can remember, we're always just one bad day away from extinction. Unless your people have experienced that, you'll always think us quarians are just being paranoid." Tali muttered while her hands tensed up.
"You're right. I don't know what it's like for quarians. For as long as I can remember, humanity's been climbing from one age of prosperity into the next," that wasn't entirely true. If one wanted to accurately summarize humanity's history since her birth, they'd have to say 'climbing from one war into the next political disaster'. But that didn't matter right now, at least not for the point she was trying to make.
She knew recruiting the quarian wasn't going to happen. At least not in the way Harper intended.
But that didn't mean that there was nothing to gain from this exchange. Tali'Zorah was an admiral's daughter – the child of one of the leaders of the Migrant Fleet. There was power in that, especially in a society with a less…. meritocratic approach to political power than say the HSA. She might not get a quarian tech specialist out of this operation, but she would most definitely try and get an ally on the Fleet if she played her cards right.
If.
"I won't pretend to know what living in the Fleet is like or how it feels to have one foot dangling over the ledge all the time" she began. "But quarian or not, everyone is going to be in the same boat when the first Reapers start pouring out of the relays. It'll be a fight for survival for all of us, including the Fleet." Shepard went on. "I get that you feel obligated to help your people. Believe me, I do. So I won't ask you to join me," if Joker was right and Harper was listening in through EDI, he'd probably get frustrated right about now, "But considering what I just told you and what you saw happen on the Citadel two years ago, I think you know that we still need to find a way to help each other before the Reapers turn everything between here and Palaven into ash," the quarian looked at her through her mask.
"What are you suggesting?"
"You need to get back to the Fleet somehow, don't you?" The quarian nodded. "I propose that we drop you off and before we leave, you get me the chance to talk to the admirals and make my case. One meeting. That's all I'll need."
Tali seemed to contemplate Shepard's words.
"I'm not sure that's a promise I can make."
"Your father is an admiral. I'm sure he could pull some strings for you?"
"You're an outsider. And a human at that too," while that particular way of phrasing might have made Tali sound just a tiny bit close-minded at first, it was hardly a secret that the Fleet and the HSA didn't get along.
Between quarian strip-mining operations targeting worlds in the eye of human prospectors and war ships and merchant vessels flying under the HSA's flag… 'denying' quarian ships entrance into contested territories in the Traverse through measures ranging from blocking maneuvers to warning shots and threats of boarding, tensions between the two species had been high for as long as Shepard could remember.
If not for the fact that the quarians were literally deemed as 'under threat of extinction' by the HSA's Ministry for Alien Relations and the stigma that came with violent actions against a people deemed to be living under such a threat , the navy probably would've already sunken a couple of quarian ships over the years…
"A human who saved his daughter and her marines," she countered. "That has to amount for something, right? Even if our people don't get along?" when her suggestion was finished, Shepard saw something behind the partially transparent visor shift. She obviously couldn't tell what, but when the quarian opened her mouth, she got relieved.
"I'll see what I can do."
The N7 nodded her thanks.
Now she could deal with the next issue: briefing Harper.
After exchanging her goodbyes to the quarian and telling her to see to her fellowship (which she hoped had gotten out of Leng's way), she dialed in the frequency used to contact the man.
As usual when she called, he picked up almost immediately.
"Shepard," he greeted. "I assume this will be about Haestrom?" his speech was unusually fast, like he was in a rush. "Or is it about your… other problem?" he was talking about the mole.
The N7 folded her arms.
"Haestrom." They hadn't made any progress in regard to the other subject yet.
"Very well," he nodded. "I don't mean to sound rude, but I'd ask that you make things quick."
Definitely in a rush.
"Something going on?"
Harper seemed hesitant for a second, but then he cracked. Uncharacteristically easily.
"Other than the galaxy stumbling over its own feet and falling head first down a cliff as usual, you mean?" Huh. Sarcasm. That was also uncharacteristic. "Yes. There was a security breach in a lab on Cronos Station about an hour ago. It wasn't related to anything Cerberus is doing, but it still requires our attention."
About an hour ago?
It couldn't be, right-
- who was she kidding.
Of course it could be.
Hell.
It had to be.
"This breach wouldn't happen to be related to EDI and or a geth?"
For a short instant, Harper looked surprise.
Then he was back to his usual, stoic self.
"How do you know that?"
The N7 sighed, aware how ridiculous she was about to sound.
"Because EDI shorted out during our mission to Haestrom and we ended up bringing back a geth who wants to help us fight the Reapers. Or at least so he says."
If the man she was talking to wasn't the director of Cerberus, he probably would've taken more than a second to comprehend what she was saying or maybe even questioned her sanity.
But since Harper was… well… Harper… he only reached for something to his left and then produced a smoke and a lighter. That was one of the few things she appreciated about the man. He'd been around enough crazy happenings in his life to just accept whatever insanities Shepard encountered as facts. It made working together easier.
"And Miss Zorah and her quarians?"
"Onboard and mostly well. But before you ask, she won't join us. I already tried to convince her."
"That's regrettable."
"But I did manage to get her to give me a shot at talking to the Admiralty about the Reapers."
"That's not what I expected, but it is less regrettable," Harper tipped his cigarette at something outside of view. "Even if telling the quarian government about the Reapers violates all sorts of classification labels, I'm glad to hear that you're finally starting to show the initiative I've been expecting to see from you ever since you were brought back. It's a relief to see that we weren't wrong about you after all."
Shepard doubled back and, just like presumably everyone else, took offense at the unexpected statement.
"Excuse me?"
"You've been strictly following your orders to the letter for a surprisingly long time," because that's what good soldiers did. "Truth be told, I was hoping you'd start to deviate from Cerberus' directions earlier and start collecting your own allies sooner. But as they say, better late than never." Her face was probably the definition of confusion, but before she could ask Harper to explain what the hell he was trying to say and if he was actually telling her to deliberately ignore his orders, the director went on.
"So you have a geth on board then, did I understand that correctly?"
"Yes, an emissary platform from what he's telling us."
"He?"
"Well, it sounds like a he and since everyone started calling EDI a she because she sounds like a she-," Shepard started to reason before shaking her head. "Anyway. I plan on talking to the geth when we're done with this here debriefing."
"I don't think I have to explain that I'd like to be around for that conversation."
"Well, if it is like Joker says it is and you really can watch everything happening on the Normandy through EDI, I don't see why you shouldn't."
Harper puffed out a cloud of smoke.
"Whatever gave Lieutenant Moreau the idea that I can do that?" Harper retorted. "He's correct of course, EDI is linked to Cronos Station. Still. I don't remember his file mentioning that he was paranoid."
'… poor file then,' she thought. Ever since she'd met Joker the man had been nothing but paranoid. Given some of the things he said, at this stage, she wouldn't be surprised to find out that her pilot was the kind of person who buried his paychecks in the woods because he didn't trust the 'central volus bank' or whatever it was people called it these days. "Joker's been a bit paranoid since he has to share his ship with an AI," she lied, not feeling the need to correct Harper's assumptions about her helmsman or mention how he'd been justified in his skepticism of their mission strangely often ever since Eden Prime. "Either way, you're welcome to watch. That is if you have the time and aren't too busy with the galaxy stumbling over its own feet."
"This is something I'll make time for."
"Good. Just have EDI tap into the brig feed then. That's where we're keeping hi- it."
"Understood," Harper nodded before his hologram unceremoniously vanished. No goodbyes, no 'how could you bring a geth onboard of the most advanced human warship in existence, what the hell were you thinking' and no explanation as to what he'd meant when he'd criticized her for not taking initiative earlier.
… she wouldn't complain about one of those.
The other two though?
They'd be up for debate later on.
Ten Minutes Later, 26. April 2417 AD, HSASV Normandy, Brig
The first thing Emily noticed when she entered the Brig was how Garrus and Lieutenant Callius seemed to get along strangely well… albeit by standing next to each other in silence. While she had observed that the two had gotten better ever since she'd tasked them with figuring out if the concerns of a mole on the Normandy were concerned, she hadn't expected them to actually spend time with each other unless they absolutely had to… which they didn't right now.
Yet here they were.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Staring down the equally unmoving geth.
… there was probably a joke to be made about the kind of company that turians made for somewhere in comparing them with a robot…
"Alright guys, that'll be it. Thanks for standing sentry. Consider yourself relieved," she stated. Neither of them moved.
"Shepard, before you do this, there's something you should know," Garrus began.
"Yes?"
"We named the geth. Or rather she did," the turian said before nudging his head towards the Blackwatch officer.
She expected a lot of things to follow Garrus' statement.
But not this.
"You- what? Why?"
"It asked me to," Callius retorted before turning on her heel and pointing behind herself at the geth. "Commander Shepard, meet Legion."
As if cued by the mention of its name, the geth's flashlight-like head spun towards Shepard and blinked red. The flaps and plates around its eye moved and then it mirrored Shepard's current posture by folding its arms in front of the ornated, black armor plating of its chest.
She could have chosen to spend more time on being confused about the idea of Callius of all people naming the geth.
But at this point she'd been in so much stranger situations… so she simply took it in strides.
"Legion it is. It's a pleasure to be officially introduced," the N7 muttered, prompting the geth to reply.
"Affirmative, Shepard-Commander," the geth responded.
"EDI, is our guest already here?" she asked for confirmation before beginning this conversation. "The director's listening, just so you know," she told the turians, who seemed to silently accept that fact.
"Yes, Commander. Director Harper is tapped in and waiting for you to progress."
"Alright," she sighed. This was going to be interesting. "Legion," she began again, using the name to get used to it. "Back on Haestrom you said you were an emissary. That you were sent to deliver a warning about the servants of Nazara already preparing the arrival of the Old Machines and that you'd be ready to render any assistance needed in stopping them. Down there I assumed that you were talking about the Reapers. Is that correct?" She had to ask, just to be on the safe side.
"Affirmative. Our research indicates that the Old Machines are referred to as 'Reapers' by organics," it tilted its head sideways, which made Shepard realise that she'd been doing the same thing while considering whether or not to ask the question on her mind.
She kind of had to now, didn't she?
"Now, please don't take this the wrong way, but considering what happened on the Citadel two years ago, I have to ask. Last time a Reaper showed up to the galaxy, you geth were fighting alongside it. Why'd you suddenly decide that you needed to help stop the galaxy-wide deactivation event?" she was intentionally using the phrases she remembered Legion using down on Haestrom.
"This inquiry was expected," Legion responded. "The geth you faced were no longer part of us. They were heretics, not true geth."
"Heretics? True geth? What do you mean?"
"True geth build our own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future."
"So the geth were never allied to the Reapers?"
"No. Similar to Shepard-Commander, we oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines," the geth flashed red again. "Cooperation furthers mutual goals, hence our proposal of assistance."
Shepard looked at the two turians and then glanced at EDI's avatar.
"I don't think I have to tell you that people will have a bad feeling working with you."
"This issue was also expected," Legion's eye seemed to focus on Shepard's omni-tool for a moment and one vibration later, she knew that the geth had somehow bypassed the security of the brig and sent her a message. She opened it and raised an eyebrow at the line of quarian numbers.
"What's this?"
"Our deactivation code," its head flashed red again. "As humans say, we offer this as a sign of good faith. An olive branch. A gesture of-"
"-good will. Yes. We do say that," Shepard said before passing the code along to EDI – something she realized every cyber-security officer would scold her for. As far as she was concerned, the geth had probably compromised their security earlier already anyway – at least if that's what it had wanted to do. "EDI, do me a favor and see if this is actually what Legion says it is." She wanted to trust the geth, but all desperation and optimism set aside, she wasn't that naïve.
The answer of the Normandy's AI didn't take long.
"It is, Commander."
"And if it isn't, we can always use the old-fashioned Phaeston deactivation code," she heard Garrus mutter, to which Callius seemed to hush him.
… those two really were getting along better now, weren't they?
She shook her head and moved on to the logical conclusion of the geth's offer.
"Considering you just gave me your kill-switch, I assume your assistance would include going groundside?"
The geth's eye spun 90 degrees to the right and then back up.
"This platform is based on the Kaziel prototypes and is therefore optimized for military operations. Additionally, actions that reaffirm our words have been determined as a decisive factor in mending the damage caused by the heretics."
"That's a yes?" she asked again, biting her tongue to stop herself from saying that it weren't the heretics who killed ninety nine out of a hundred quarians during their rebellion.
"Yes, we will help you fight, Shepard-Commander."
"Alright," she nodded before making a gut decision and placing her hand on the release of the brig's reinforced glass door. If they'd help each other, it felt wrong to keep Legion in prison – even if it was the sensible decision to do so. "If I open this, you won't attack?"
"If we sought to eliminate you, we already would have done so on Haestrom."
"Well that's reassuring," she looked back at the two armored turians, figuring that if the geth had just lied, they'd save her. Then she unlocked the door and it opened with a hiss. Much to her surprise, the sudden freedom didn't change anything in the geth's behaviour. It still just stood there, mimicking her posture like a robotic murder-mirror. "Setting aside the topic of you helping us fight for a minute, there's something else I need to ask you. Back on the surface you mentioned servants of Nazara – of Sovereign. You said that they were already working to prepare the arrival of the Reapers. How do you know that? And what exactly does it mean?"
In response to her question, the geth suddenly straightened and its blue lights turned teal – this time not for a second, but permanently.
"As part of our effort to re-connect with the galaxy," – wait, what? "we have intercepted signals conclusively pointing to a Heretic infiltration of crucial organic infrastructure starting during the mass-self-deactivation event two years ago."
"- the geth suicides on the Citadel," Garrus muttered, prompting Legion to turn his head toward him.
"Geth do not commit suicide, Vakarian-Detective."
"They blew themselves up. What else do you call that?"
"They destroyed their platforms. Geth existence is not bound to a platform. Unlike organics, the physical destruction of a drone does not equate the deactivation of the related programs. We exist on a digital layer. There is more to us than a physical form," … as soon as those words left Legion's mou- speakers - Shepard was sure that somewhere, some religious person or some synth-hater had just suffered an existential crisis.
"So you're saying there are heretics inside the Citadel's system?" Shepard went on after dropping her previous thought and how it seemed to ring true considering her… 'near'-death experience and the lack of memories in regard to everything in between being blown up and getting woken up.
Legion realigned his eye with Shepard's face.
"Not just the Citadel. Signals have been detected all over the galaxy."
"… the map," she suddenly figured. "Show us the map again."
"Affirmative, Shepard-Commander."
Just like on Haestrom, the geth produced a hologram … and just like on Haestrom, there were a lot of dots in a lot of bad places.
"These are all the heretic signals you detected?"
"Affirmative."
She swallowed.
This was bad.
"Do you have any idea what it is that they're doing?"
"Specifics have not yet been determined, but considering their previous alignment with the Old Machines, we believe that they are working to prepare an event they call – " Legion paused, "the arrival. They also appear to be calling out to the geth, trying to missionize us to their allegiances," his flaps clicked to the left. "We continue to deny them. We have no interest in helping them bring about the arrival."
"Which will lead to the galaxy-wide deactivation event," she muttered, echoing Legion's words. "How do we stop it? The arrival, I mean."
Legion's face-flaps clicked outward.
"At this moment, we have not yet reached a consensus on the most effective countermeasure. The aim of the emissaries was to warn the galaxy of the imminent threat and the cooperate to find the ideal solution," he then took a step forward into his own map and out of the glass cage. Immediately, Callius and Garrus went for their sidearms and the hologram got all scrambled. "We ask again, Shepard-Commander, do you accept our assistance in ending this shared threat?"
She looked at the map slowly re-assembling itself by Legion's feet.
There was only one solution here.
"I'll take all the help I can get," she nodded. "Although considering that we still have quarians on board and that we're headed for the Migrant Fleet and that a lot of humans really don't like the geth," she listed, "I will have to ask you to stay in the brig for the time being and not wander about for the time being. We wouldn't want," she paused, "to have a case of friendly fire."
Legion's facial plates locked themselves back into their original, geth-like position and then he did something strangely organic; he nodded in return.
"This will not be a problem. Geth do not have a desire to mingle. Socialization is a weakness exclusively observed in organics."
She glanced sideways at Garrus and Callius, then towards EDI's avatar and then back at Legion. No one seemed to object to that statement, which in itself was weird.
"… that's good to hear," she replied somewhat hesitant. "I might send someone down here to debrief you. When they get here, please tell them what you told me."
"Affirmative."
Her team really was growing stranger with every recruit, wasn't it?
Again, she shook her head.
Best not to think about it before she let everyone in on the fact that there were apparently a whole lot of reaper-loyal geth hiding all over the galaxy just waiting to crash the Extranet and comm-buoy network.
Twelve Hours Later, 27. April 2417 AD, Cronos Station
In between being woken up in the middle of last night because of a security breach, then trying to figure out what had caused said breach (a task completed alongside the usual paper trail associated with her being the chief security advisor on said op) and then sleeping only the bare minimum of two hours before being buzzed out of her sleep again, Yo-yo had to admit that she had had more well-rested days than the last thirty-something hours.
She wasn't just feeling groggy, she also looked the part. Her eyes were red from a lack of sleep, she hadn't even bothered with make-up because of time constraints and to top it all off, her hair was an utter mess.
To say that she was in conflict with HSAIS's code of 'professional appearance while on station' was an understatement.
So naturally, today of all days, she'd been called in by her boss for a brief, private meeting.
Truth be told, Yo-yo hadn't exactly expected to get into trouble. Rei had been in this field of work as well. He knew how some days could be. She had however expected for him to at least make a remark or pass her a confused look. It's what usually happened whenever other specialist – especially the male, biotic one(s) – walked around the place like it was a battlefield with no dress code, some basalt desert back on Terra Nova or a space-station-sized gym.
That hadn't happened though.
He'd just gone straight to business.
That should have been her first clue.
"So until further notice, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait for something else to pop up," Director Rein finished. He had just informed Yo-yo that HSAIS was apparently 'restructuring' the scientific effort she's supported up to now due to a 'recent development on Commander Shepard's end'.
Whereas others would've probably wanted to know what exactly those developments were, Yo-yo had been on the job long enough to know that there were a certain set of questions you never asked a high-ranking HSAIS officer – starting with 'what exactly are you talking about'.
The only time anybody from the intelligence service gave a straight answer to that sort of question was when they wanted the other person to know what they were talking about. And since that usually resulted in there not being a need to ask the aforementioned question, the brunette specialist already knew all she needed to know. Especially in her current state of tiredness.
Sleep depravations sat aside, she'd lie if she said she appreciated the idea of sitting around Cronos Station even more. But since that clearly seemed to be what Section 13 wanted from her right now, there was little she could do. With the engineers reassigned and their geth pal Jeff locked up in some place even she didn't have access to, Yo-yo was all out of work – if one could call her little baby-sitting experience work.
Come to think of it, the more she thought about it, the more she was starting to believe that the assignment had been created to keep her occupied.
It would certainly explain why she'd gone from being crucial to the security of the operation to being easily reassigned in a matter of hours.
But maybe that was just sleep-induced paranoia talking...
Suspicions sat aside, orders were orders and she'd never been one to rebel and demand new assignments and / or a highly advanced stealth frigate to hijack a Spectre's assignment out of a misguided sense of obligation and an utter hatred for sitting still and being happy and at peace for a change.
That was much more in line with Magic's personality than hers.
Come to think of it, it was probably also the reason why there was a whole set of Section-13-internal rumors about a certain biotic specialist being deemed 'unpromotable for life' and the claims that his application for field-training-agent was supposedly locked up alongside the worst secrets in HSAIS history – just in case someone who didn't personally know him got the funny idea of actually having him teach a new specialist.
But those were just rumors.
As far as she knew, Magic had never written that application prior to Akuze and considering what had happened there, she didn't see him writing it afterwards either; which truth be told was probably for the better. Field-work-wise, he could probably teach someone a whole lot of good… but if she was being honest, he'd probably do more damage than good as supervisor.
… as she realized that her mind had wondered of and that Rei was still waiting for an answer, Yo-yo snapped out of her line of thought and blamed her little mental excursion on tiredness.
"Understood, Sir," she replied before shifting in the chair Rei had wheeled in specifically for this conversation. No matter how she tried to sit, some part of her back hurt. It was a natural consequence of not being well-rested – and of the HSA's policy to always pick the cheapest option of furniture wherever possible (they had to save the money needed for the fancy latin logos somewhere, didn't they?). After some more attempts to find a comfortably straight way of sitting, she surrendered to the aching muscles and looked at Rei. "Will that be all?" she asked, fully knowing that it wasn't.
No way in hell would she have gotten summoned here if all the director wanted to talk about was her lack of an assignment.
"No, there is still one more matter I'd like to talk about," Rei stated before leaning forward on his desk and folding his hands. The gesture revealed that he was still wearing the same watch as her – even if he had exchanged his combat-uniform for a tailored suit a long time ago, he was still one of them. "I know my operatives like to talk to one another. Even if they shouldn't. And before you get worried, I'm not here to scold you on keeping tabs on your partner. We've all done it one time or another," it was an interesting admission to make. In a parliamentary hearing, a statement like that would be akin to outright admitting that Section 13 ignored the very strict classification standards it enforced elsewhere. "I simply wanted to be the first to deliver the latest news."
Latest news?
Delivered to her in person?
… now if that didn't sound like Morneau and she would be back in the game any time soon now, she didn't know what did.
Instantly, Yo-yo stopped feeling tired and for a split second, she felt the need to smirk. Work was back on the table. That was smile-worthy news. She kept herself from doing it though. Rei was still her boss, so professional appearances needed to be maintained, even if she currently violated half of HSAIS' aforementioned appearance code.
"So he finally did it, huh?" she figured. If this was news Rei wanted to deliver personally, it either meant Magic had gotten the Broker or it meant that he was dead… and since she'd be certain there'd be a different kind of mood if it was the latter (and a part of her currently unrested-self liked to suspected that she'd somehow know if something bad had happened), it reasonably could only be the former.
"Yes. As of the day before yesterday, the Shadow Broker's is no longer an issue we'll have to concern ourselves with," so they waited two days to tell her? Interesting. At least it'd make the wait shorter, no? "You don't seem surprised," the older spy observed.
"Morneau's always had a way with this sort of thing. I never doubted he'd get the job done," she truly hadn't. Worrying about him getting himself into a world of trouble because of his stupid hero complex wasn't akin to not having faith in his abilities.
"This sort of thing including stopping terrorists who've been the target of an unsuccessful galaxy-wide manhunt for decades?"
"Among other things," she shrugged. "You know how he gets when you give him an impossible task, Sir, don't you?"
The brief nod let Yo-yo know everything she needed to know about the man's opinion of her partner.
"The day before yesterday you said?" she repeated before doing a quick count backwards. 205 days. He'd lost his bet.
"Yes, the OP occurred two days ago."
"So he'll be back in action in no time?"
Unless the Broker was hiding in the furthers corner of the galaxy, getting back to Cronos Station shouldn't be a matter of weeks. Unlike the larger part of human territories, the station itself could be reached quickly from just about anywhere – if one knew where to look for it (which most people simply did not).
Despite her question being an innocent one, Rei seemed to hesitate with an answer.
… that wasn't good.
Not at all.
It wasn't the 'how do I tell her that he lost both of his eyes and won't be back until way after the surgery' kind of hesitation or something else that made her worry that something had happened to Magic.
It was the kind of hesitation that suggested -
"After Specialist Morneau has returned and passed through some more debriefings associated with his long-term undercover operation, I don't see why he shouldn't be."
- that.
She wanted to sigh; or let out a frustrated groan… but she hid her reaction and approached this in a more analytical manner – even if doing so was currently very exhausting.
If Morneau was to be 'debriefed' some more on Cronos at a time like this when half the galaxy was going to hell -in between a looming civil war on Sur'Kesh, Collectors raiding human colonies, the Reapers doing god knew what inside the Hegemony and a million other little issues, 'going to hell' was really the only way to describe its current state - he'd gotten himself into a world of trouble; just like she'd feared.
Cronos Station debriefs usually meant Internal Affairs.
Lancelot had mentioned some speedbumps.
But nothing that would get IA involved.
Something was clearly being kept from her and while she normally wouldn't mind that one bit… she did when it concerned Magic. In addition to no one wanting their friends to be in trouble, anything that took him out of the game also took her out of the game and since she hadn't had a decent op since October… the wait was starting to kill her.
Before she could start pondering on what her partner possibly could have done to warrant this kind of response (IA hearings were rare for Section 13 operatives because the nature of their work kind of made it hard to find an IA-agent with the right security clearance), she remembered who she was sitting in front of and stayed stoic.
As of now, there was only one person she was confident would have Morneau's back and not read anything into her reaction that'd get her a hearing too… and last times she checked, Grant Redford was on Arcturus Station.
Personal opinions about the man and the questionable philosophies he'd taught to Morneau sat aside, if there was one thing she could say about Redford it was that he'd never go against Morneau as long as Morneau didn't go against the HSA. Redford was loyal, probably the only guy as loyal as Morneau himself.
… which – funnily enough – was the exact same thing she had thought of Director Rei.
When the thought planted itself in her head, her first instinct was to dig for more information and figure out if she'd been wrong about Rei. (Instead of jumping to the 'more obvious' conclusion of asking what Morneau could have done to go against the HSA – only someone who didn't know Magic would go there.)
But doing so could come back to bite them and their work.
Hence there was only one thing left for her to do: keep a low profile until this matter resolved itself and hope that she didn't end up being asked to 'testify on Specialist Morneau's behalf' when whatever he'd kicked loose while chasing the Broker inevitably started an avalanche that would cover years of splendid work in dirt.
"Right," she nodded in confirmation before glancing at her watch. Rei noticed. Just like she wanted him to.
"Are you being expected somewhere, Specialist Young?"
"No, just checking the time," she deflected before putting up her act and playing on the director's more predictable character traits – his humanity and his … less than strict style of leadership. "Actually yes. If you wouldn't mind, I was sort of hoping to finally catch some shut eye. With the lab incident and everything that's happened since, the last two days have been sort of... sleepless," she faked a convincing yawn – or maybe she just really yawned. "I'm not seeing things yet, but it's starting to get a big foggy up here," she tapped her temple.
"Oh I see. If that's the case, then don't let me keep you," the older man responded before clasping his hands together. "Just make sure I can reach you in case something comes up."
She nodded her thanks and got ready to leave. Just as she got to the door though, Rei let out one final statement that gave her all the more reason to worry.
"Specialist Young," he called. She turned around and met his eyes and immediately knew what was going on.
"Yes, Sir?" He was hiding it well, but just from his look alone she could tell what he was thinking. It gave further credibility to the notion that it was Rei whom she'd been wrong about, not Morneau.
"When I say make sure that I can reach you any time, I mean it. Ten-minute timeframe during working hours, twenty at night. Understood?"
"Understood, Sir."
… that wasn't the kind of restrictive timeframe you extended to someone you trusted a hundred percent.
"Now go and take a rest. You're no good to anyone if you can't keep your eyes open."
"Thank you, Sir."
She walked out of the office and let out a sigh.
A signal of mistrust wasn't good.
What kind of shit-show had Magic landed in?
He'd never go rogue or betray the HSA. There was just no situation she could think of where that ever happened. The guy's loyalty was about the only thing in life that she was ready to accept as absolute certainty. Everything else was negotiable – but her partner's core personality traits simply weren't.
She realized that her excessive need to reinforce that idea couldn't exactly be seen as a sign of confidence … but damn it. He just wouldn't ever do something like that. No matter what had happened in the last seven months, he had promised to come back.
And he always kept his word; which she realized made him a terrible spy.
She walked towards her quarters and dropped down on her bed. In the process, she nearly stumbled over the additional footlocker that had been resting in the corner of her room ever since Magic had taken his leave and entrusted her with all of his personal belongings (which as expected, had been far too little to actually fill said footlocker).
After kicking off her boots and looking at the dark ceiling, she knew exactly what would be on her mind until she finally caved into the tiredness.
What the hell had happened to Magic that could get IA involved?
… and had he maybe changed after all?
Meanwhile, 2158 CE, Installation 237, Menae
Liara had been doing a lot of thinking lately.
Predominantly about her quest to figure out what the prothean message meant and changing her theories three times a day, but also about what the three-way mindmeld had revealed.
For the sake of her research, she'd chosen to pretend like she didn't know about the fact that pieces of Sovereign – reaper tech capable of indoctrinating anyone who spent enough time around it – had gone missing and that Emily and Kaidan both knew about it without knowing that she also knew.
But as she was laying in her bed and staring at the ceiling of her single-occupant room within the underground bunker complex that made up SLD's headquarters, Liara had to admit to one thing.
The secret was killing her and so was not telling General Arterius about it.
Setting aside the fact that she'd ignite a wildfire she couldn't stop as soon as she told the turian – she'd known Arterius long enough to be able to perfectly picture his reaction down to the rhythm at which his mandibles would twitch and the finger with which he'd hit the 'call all listed contacts' button on whatever communication device he used to conspire with the likes of Director Harper and Councilor Valern – there was a very reasonable argument to be made for her to be truthful.
While she really wanted to see people rally around Emily and see her for what she could be … right about now Desolas Arterius was the closest thing they had to a military leader that the galaxy would actually follow. Even if he shared blood with the turian who'd attacked the Citadel two years ago, she was willing to bet that if the Blackwatch's commander were to say 'go', most people would simply ask 'how far?'. That was just the kind of person that Arterius was; a natural-born leader who made people move into the same direction even if they'd never get along under other circumstances.
… well maybe everyone but the batarians.
Emily could probably achieve this as well if not for the fact that she ranked relatively low compared to the likes of a Dalatarass, a Primarch or a Matriarch and that galactic politics (which had been largely influenced by asari politics) made a habit out of listening to its elders. She had after all managed to make a turian and a krogan work together in the past, so by all accounts… she had the same abilities as Arterius but lacked his status (and his age).
Liara felt a sudden anger bubble up inside of her and much to her surprise, she wasn't sure if it was actually her own anger that was surfacing or something else that had hitched a ride in her mind after the meld.
People needed to be told.
The Council was flat-out wrong in keeping this a secret.
Kaidan and Emily both felt the same, at least on a subconscious, emotional level. Rationally, they obviously subscribed to the logic that telling people without knowing who had taken the pieces was dangerous and their military background ensured that they kept their own opinions in check and followed their superiors…
… but unlike Kaidan and Emily, Liara wasn't military and she'd been alive long enough to know that sometimes, emotional decisions were the right decisions, no matter what logic dictated.
The asari paused.
- had she, a scientist, really just had that thought?
Or was that too the influence of the three-way meld?
As she threw the blanket off of herself and walked to where her clothes were laying – the lone steel chair within the room – Liara already found her mind made up; even if she was still negotiating with herself. She pulled on her laboratory overall, walked out of the door and headed to where General Arterius was currently sleeping. The way through the darkened corridor was quick and quiet and lonely and her knocking was about the only sound one could hear in the installation at this hour, barring some footsteps she thought nothing of. This was after all a densely occupied base. After withdrawing her hand from the door, she started a countdown and tried to decide if her polite knocking had been enough to wake a sound sleeping turian or if he needed something more in line of a drill sergeant shouting to rise.
She'd never get an answer though, since General Arterius clearly hadn't been sleeping. After knocking on his door, it took only a few seconds for the turian, still wearing his grey uniform, to answer.
She wouldn't put it past him to sleep in his uniform and rise in a second, mind you, but given the pair of glowing terminals behind Desolas Arterius and the various omni-tools charging up next to them, she suspected that the general had still been working.
"Doctor T'Soni," he said, clearly surprised to find her at his doorstep at this hour. "Can I help, the turian suddenly seemed to look at something behind her, "step in, please," he offered. While he stayed polite his shift of tone was immediately noticeable, as was his change of stance. While the request seemed strange, Liara complied. When she did, she saw that the hand concealed behind the door had grabbed a gun. Before she could ask what that was about, the general slammed the door shut and locked it.
"Where you followed?" he asked all the while grabbing one of the omni-tools.
"No, why? What's going on?" she asked before getting to the obvious questions and forgetting all about the footsteps from just now. "Why the gun? What are you worried about?"
"Because someone was trailing you, I saw them hide in the darkness when you knocked," the turian responded before realizing that he had to explain. "Someone sneaking around a turian military base is never a good sign. Especially when the particular base is housing all kinds of strangers working for a swiftly assembled task force," he responded before typing something on his omni-tool. "As for the gun, I'd be an idiot not to be armed under those circumstances. A bunch of strangers all within reach of my sleeping quarters? Being unarmed under those circumstances would be like asking to be assassinated," he stashed the weapon in a holster attached to the side of his bed facing the wall – presumably the same spot he'd taken it from.
"I don't know if you've heard but ranking officers haven't been having a particular save sleep ever since Sovereign showed up." They hadn't? She'd heard of some human admiral being murdered aboard a dreadnought… but that was about the only case of a high-ranking official being murdered that she could think off. Then again, the affected institutions probably wouldn't make a lot of noise about their high-ranking officials being murdered, would the? "Well then. You needed something, didn't you?" the turian finally said before looking at her.
In between her surprise at finding Arterius awake and armed and then nonchalantly discussing his assassination, she'd nearly forgotten why she'd come here in the first place.
"Yes. There's something you should know," she felt her voice quiver ever so slightly, presumably because she couldn't exactly tell how the turian would react when she told him that she'd known about this for some time now (and revealed that others close to him had known even longer). For a moment she even had second thoughts. But there was just no way around it now that her mind was made up, so she ignored them. "I learned something during the mind meld with Shepard and Alenko," she forced herself out of the habit of referring to them by their first names.
The white, unmarked face of the elapri-born turian remained unchanged.
"What?" he asked in a dry tone.
Liara braced herself for what she was about to do.
"Pieces of Sovereign have gone missing. The Council knows. So do Shepard and Alenko. But they told no one else because they suspect everyone else."
The turian's reaction was immediate and cold
"What do you mean missing?" his voice was a whisper. "Missing as in they lost them? As in there's a hundred different pieces of Reaper-Tech being dispersed all over the galaxy?"
"Sixty-two," she corrected before noticing the expected mandible flicking.
"Idiots," the turian muttered, first quietly, then somewhat louder. "Those damned idiots," he continued with a shake of his head. "And you're sure that only the Council knows?"
She searched her memories, unaware of how complete they were.
"And whoever Shepard and Alenko might have told," she thought about that statement for a second and then remembered something else from the meld… Kaidan's connection to Harper and Bau. "The salarian Spectre Bau who accompanied Captain Alenko knows as well. And I think so does Director Harper."
"You think?"
"I am certain when it comes to Bau," she was, "I am only assuming in regard to Director Harper and Cerberus."
"And why do you assume they'd know?"
She could've told the truth and said that she figured Harper knew because Harper had been pulling Kaidan's strings ever since Emily's death… but then she realized that that was Kaidan's influence bleeding in on her own judgement.
"You've known him longer than me, do you really think something like this could stay a secret from Harper?"
The turian's icy-blue eyes wandered across his room, then he looked at one of his terminals.
"No," he got up, walked over to the device and typed something on its holographic screen.
Before she could ask what he was doing, a familiar voice answered.
Director Harper.
"General Arterius. I can't say I was expecting a call from you," the human greeted.
The white-plated Blackwatch officer wasted no time with exchanging formalities.
"The Council lost sixty-two pieces of Sovereign. Did you know?"
The human was silent for a moment, which in retrospective was all the answers they'd ever need.
"I respect you, General, so I won't lie," the human responded. "I have known for three weeks, yes. But not from the Council. They didn't see fit to let me in on their mistake."
"And you didn't think to mention it to me either because?" the turian left his question open-ended.
"Because Cerberus only learned about the pieces by accident and we've been trying to evaluate the scale of the problem before making it known to everyone," Harper's voice replied. It sounded raspier than Liara remembered, but then again, that might just be the quality of the terminal's audio… or the smoking was finally catching up to him. "If its any consolation, which before you say so, I know it's not, we've already reacquired and permanently disposed off several of the missing pieces."
"You knew there was a ticking bomb spread out across the galaxy and you didn't want to let me know until you could evaluate the scale of the problem?" the turian asked. As it was common for his people, his anger wasn't displayed by shouting or a lack of control. It was a cold, calculated and calm expression of utter rage.
Again, Harper was silent for a moment.
"You know me, General. I don't like to make a problem out of something until I know the scale of its consequences."
"What I know about you, Director, is that things tend to end badly every time Cerberus tries to resolve something related to the Reapers by itself," Arterius retorted. "Truth be told, I've been having a hard time not to wonder if your continued failures are intentional," it was unusual to hear something like this out of the general's mouth. It was a provocation and – more importantly – inaccurate.
"Is this about your brother?" Harper asked. It was the same question Liara was asking herself.
"Saren's just one example of what I'm talking about. The base on Akuze, the losses on Eden Prime, the clean-up on the Citadel," he listed. "Your fingerprints are all over cases of failed attempts at containing and controlling the Reapers ad mishandling Reaper-tech. Maybe Cerberus doesn't actually want to find a way to stop them anymore?"
This time Harper didn't stay silent for a moment.
"Considering what you're trying to imply, I think that this is the point where I remind you that indoctrinated Blackwatch operatives were the ones who set in motion those events and that it was humans who stopped them," the director retorted with the hint of poison in his tune before catching himself. A little too late though, she could already see the anger flaring up in Arterius' face. "Apologizes. That was uncalled for," Harper quickly corrected before Arterius could responded. "I understand your anger and your reaction. If our places were switched, I'd feel the same," he reasoned. "But what's happened has happened. The question you have to ask yourself now is if we really want to play 'who's to blame' or if we want to fix the Council's mistakes together."
The general stayed silent. For a good half minute at least.
Then he let out a low sigh.
It spoke for his character that he was this restrained, especially after Harper's mention of his brother and Captain Haliat – both of whom Liara knew to have been close to Arterius' heart, one out of familial ties, the other because of their shared experiences prior to Captain Desolas Arterius becoming General Desolas Arterius in the span of a single day. (Something Liara only knew because she'd overheard Arterius talking about Haliat once, many years ago.)
"How many pieces have you collected?"
"Two."
"I was hoping for a higher number than two."
"It's a work in progress."
"And there wouldn't be a way Blackwatch can accelerate that process?"
Harper paused.
"You can do what I didn't dare to."
"Meaning?"
"Tell your people. Go to the Primarch today and let him know what's happening. Force the Council to come clean."
Arterius plopped down in the seat in front of the terminal.
"Before I do that, I'd like to know why exactly you didn't dare to tell your own people."
"Because I don't trust the Arcturus administration or anyone else outside of this exchange to not have gotten tempted by the prospect of studying Reaper tech. You know how humans are. If there's a chance to further our power, we'll do it, associated dangers be damned. It's in our nature."
"I don't see how that's an argument for going to the Primarch. Turians are the exact same. Our blood might be blue and yours red, but deep down, your kind and mine are not all that different from one another."
"With the small exception that your government doesn't have questionably close ties to its largest arms-manufacturer and isn't run based on a yearly popularity contest won through campaign funds of said arms-manufacturer and other tech companies who'd all sell their first-born to get a hand on a piece of Sovereign."
The realization struck Liara in the same moment it struck Arterius and before she could think of the fact that her speaking up would reveal her presence… she did.
"Goddess. You're worried Hahne-Kedar took the pieces."
"Ah I see. Doctor T'Soni is with you," Harper said without letting the surprise get to him. Then he got back to the subject at hand. "Yes. That's precisely what I'm worried about."
"Why?" she retorted.
This time Harper let out a sigh.
"Something's come up," he began, mirroring her tone towards Arterius from earlier. "Something I was about to inform you of, actually," there was a metallic clicking sound she reasoned to be caused by Harper indulging in his smoking vices. "You might want to sit down if you haven't already," the director stated. "This will be a longer story."
"What happened, Harper?" Arterius asked, dropping all formalities. For a turian like him to do that … that didn't mean anything good.
"Shepard found a geth during her last op. It told us something… troublesome. If it's true, it might even be worse than the missing pieces of Sovereign." Liara wondered: What could possibly be worse than that? She got her answer quickly… "There's a possibility that the geth loyal to Sovereign didn't actually terminate themselves two years ago. Rather they used the destruction of their physical forms to hide the fact that they infiltrated the Citadel's digital infrastructure. From what I understand, they used it to spread themselves across the galaxy in anticipation for the largest cyber-attack in history," Harper audibly exhaled; probably smoke from his cigarette. "And before you ask, this time, I'm not waiting to tell people. The scale of the issues is already," there was another exhalation, "beyond what Cerberus can reasonably control. We need to act. Now."
… this was bad.
Meanwhile 2158 CE, Citadel, Office of Councilor Valern
The last four days had been incredibly chaotic.
Various influential Dalatrasses were competing for the remnants of the Linron dynasty by producing claims of having a lineage related to hers, civil unrest rooted in egalitarian circles was flaring up on a scale not seen in centuries and while the Union was contemplating the idea of bringing in the Naval Infantry to restore order in the places worst affected, proof of minor duchies and counties on Sur'Kesh engaging in armed conflict with one another was surfacing all over the extranet.
Furthermore, as if that were not bad enough already, the fire of rebellion was starting to spread to other worlds in Sur'Kesh's proximity as well. Protests were reaching other densely populated core worlds and once the avalanche of local forces cracking down and people rising up again in spite started properly, there would be no stopping it.
Had he known what might occur in the next few days back when the League of One had first approached him, Valern would certainly have decided differently - at least with the added knowledge of an imminent Reaper invasion on their doorstep.
But as things were, time-travel was not invented, so all he could do now was watch the consequences of his decision to play a part in dethroning an obsolete system.
.. if such a system was to exist much longer that is.
Although the fact that his people were in disarray and facing a crisis of unforeseeable scale following the death of Dalatrass Linron, the revelation that Reaper-aligned geth might have infiltrated large parts of the galaxy's digital infrastructure really was worse on an entirely different scale – bad enough for Valern to understand that nothing currently happening in salarian space was of any larger consequence.
Truth be told, they should have seen this coming.
The Reapers were machines, or at least in parts mechanical – their exact nature still wasn't determined just yet. Therefore, it only made sense that they'd fight this war on both the physical and digital layer.
Yet despite this incredibly obvious fact, Valern and everyone else involved in preparing the galaxy's defenses had gotten hung up on the aspects of conventional warfare and indoctrination-based infiltration (mostly thanks to Arterius being their torchbearer and this being his idea of a war). The idea of the Harbinger also preparing a large-scale assault on the digital infrastructure of the galaxy hadn't occurred to them.
It was an embarrassment.
Nothing more, nothing less.
They already knew that the Reapers loved nothing more than subversive methods.
So how in everything that was holy to any individual in the galaxy had they missed something as vulnerable as their digital infrastructure?
If he were a more cynical salarian, he might have even said that they deserved extinction for neglecting to even consider that the geth – a synthetic species of computer programs capable of wireless transmission to just about any network – could have possibly used their time on the Citadel, the hub of galactic commerce and communication, to slowly spread themselves across the digital layer of society throughout the Extranet.
The Council had already agreed to hold an emergency meeting – without the public knowing about it. Much like the true nature of the continued existence of the Reaper-threat and the missing pieces of Sovereign it had been determined that this knowledge was simply too dangerous to become public. If word got out that geth might have infiltrated what was essentially the bloodstream of the galactic economy, there would probably be an economic and societal crisis the scale of which was previously unheard of. If that happened, the Reapers wouldn't even need to show up anymore. The galaxy would take itself out way before they ever got the chance to…
As he looked out of the tinted window of his office, Valern heard his terminal beep and found a familiar message in the corner of the hopographic screen: an invitation to an Extranet game of Vaelo.
His finger hovered over the accept-button for a moment.
The last time he'd agreed to something like this, the most powerful salarian Dalatrass had exploded alongside the pride of her dynasty.
That realization made him hesitate even more; at least until he remembered that he had already set things in motion that he could never take back. The damage was already done and the process was started and back when he'd made the decision to fall in line with the League of One, he'd had his reasons.
So – in spite of his better judgement – Valern accepted the invitation and once more watched a hexagonal Vaelo board assemble itself. Just like the last time a couple of days ago, the nearly two hundred pieces were arranged in the shape of a Jeshesh; barring the exception of the Dalatrass – she was still removed from the game just like last time and her place had been taken by the Alabash: the third-class monk.
This image was strange in the fact that a removal of the Dalatrass usually resulted in a game-over.
'We know that you have not yet removed your friend from Sur'Kesh', a message suddenly read. It was true, he hadn't recalled Kirrahe. 'Freedom is paid for in blood. He will not be an exception if he gets in the way.'
The threat wasn't exactly subtle. Valern's eyes narrowed as he brought up his omni-tool and typed in a message that would recall his friend.
He wasn't actually worried for Kirrahe's safety, mind you. The STG agent hadn't made it to the rank of major by being inept and while he couldn't actually be certain of the capabilities of the League of One (they were no doubt dangerous), Valern knew that few of his kind could ever hope to get the jump on his friend and survive.
Still, he'd recall Kirrahe.
In addition to not wanting to gamble with Kirrahe's life and find out if he was wrong after all – he'd certainly been in the past – Valern also didn't want to make Kirrahe an unwitting servant in maintaining the status quo he was currently hoping to dissolve.
When his hastily written order was sent, Valern realized that the game's chat function was still open and that whoever was sitting on the other end was still part of the session.
He didn't need to be a genius field operative to figure out that they were waiting for him to reply.
Hence he did.
'He will not interfere. For your own sake, I suggest you do not attempt to harm him,' Valern wrote, incriminating himself in case someone was surveilling this lobby all the while expressing his faith in Kirrahe's abilities to handle anyone the League could sent. When that message was sent, Valern did something any good spy would have done in his place. He got nosy. 'How do you plan to progress in face of the instability?'
A few seconds passed and then Valern got his answer.
'We have told you before, patience is a virtue. Watch and wait as we prepare to build the world of tomorrow. You will know our plan when it occurs.'
Before he could reply to that, the other party left the game and the long-awaited game-over message popped up right as the alarm he set to remind himself of the emergency meeting with Sparatus, Udina and Irissa rang.
… he'd work on resolving his own people's issues after he worked on resolving the impending galactic crisis.
Three Hours Later, 2158 CE, Sur'Kesh, Duchy of Raeka
Compared to the homeworlds of the other species, Sur'Kesh wasn't anything special. Temperature, size, population, orbital distance, day length, comparatively, Sur'kesh ranked somewhere in the average in all of those categories.
It only had one distinctive feature.
One very obvious, very distinctive feature that became evident the moment you looked up at night.
The planet had no natural satellite. Thessia, Palaven, Earth… they all had at least one moon.
Sur'Kesh didn't.
Hence its nights got dark.
Very dark.
Some even said that it was impossible to navigate it at night; or at least the parts of it that lacked the artificial lights of salarian civilization and the bright array of bioluminescent light of plants and animals which had inhabited Sur'Kesh way before evolution had ever produced the first ancestors of his kind.
Despite the darkness – or rather because of it if one wanted to get specific about the details of his infiltration - the teal salarian lifted himself over the ledge of the balcony and allowed himself to waste a second admiring the ocean of colors expanding before him. Ginon had always managed to find beauty in all things – even when standing on the literal monuments of his people's oppression and covered in spatters of acid green blood originating from a guard pair too alert for their own well-being.
The League-member hated killing his commoner kin and avoided it whenever possible.
Sadly, sometimes it just wasn't.
He'd stopped counting somewhere past the three-hundred mark, for his own sake.
After Ginon silently climbed through the glass-less window frame and gently moved the curtains that were blowing in the wind aside, he found who he was looking for fast asleep; Dalatrass Zevin Raeka. She was a salarian of strange complexion, with skin that started as dark red at the top of her face, turned to orange and then became white. In less educated times, a phenotype like this might have led some to believe her the product of witchcraft – or gotten her worshipped as a god, depending on where she happened to be born. But as things were – and had been for the last couple thousands of years – it only looked strange to his eyes.
… then again, his own skin was teal and one of his horns was misaligned, so who was he to judge the appearance of others?
With inaudible steps, Ginon walked to the bed and inspected the sleeping salarian. Compared to the last time he had stood near her (back then she had also been unaware of his presence, albeit because of a crowd and not because of sleep), he noted her additional jewelry and the recent upgrade in her wardrobe. To a non-salarian, the addition of golden chains hanging down her horns and purple dress made of heavy fabric was insignificant… but to a salarian well-versed in their own cultural norms, it clearly displayed her ambition for power. She was already dressing herself like she'd inherit Linron's empire, now all she needed to do was to actually seize it.
For a second, his hand brushed against the blade he was carrying. It was a combat talon he'd taken from a turian foe well over a decade or two ago – or maybe it had already been longer than that… time got blurry when you took experimental drugs, went into cryo-stasis for years at a time and then subjected yourself to semi-regular gene-therapies to stretch out your life cycle well beyond its usual fifty-five years.
As he felt the blade's hilt, he tilted his head.
It would be so easy to wipe out yet another part of the oppressive system. All he needed to do was drag the curved blade over the major blood vessels Raeka's neck and vanish into the night before she ever bled out on her sheets. It would be justice to all those who had paid for her dynasty's wealth with their lives; blood spilled for blood lost.
She might say that she was different from the other dalatrasses, but history disagreed.
They were never different.
He grabbed the hilt of his knife but then let go again immediately because he feared that once he actually pulled it, there'd be no more stopping him.
Justice wasn't what he was for; no matter how deserved.
Instead of murdering her in her sleep, he sat down on the bed next to her, wiped the blood stains off on her blankets and then put his hand over her mouth. When she woke with a startled but muffled yell. In response, Ginon's hand clamped down harder and he made a gesture for her to remain silent. To reinforce his statement, he presented the combat talon and noted the discoloration of its material. Maybe it was even more than a couple of decades?
Like said, the concept of time; and one's memories; got blurry when you spent years or decades at a time sleeping in a glorified refrigerator in the seedy underbelly of a salarian colony's lowest layers powered only by a hidden syphon to the nearest hydro-electric dam.
At this point, he wasn't even sure how old he actually was; just that his body was stuck somewhere in its thirties and that he could recall growing up after the quarians had already lost Rannoch and being recruited some time prior to Tevos' predecessor being named Councilor, which already made him impossibly old for a salarian - but still juvenile compared to some of the older Leaguers who'd benefitted from the research and experiments their forerunners had done after going into hiding and at least one of whom could claim to have been born prior to First Contact with the turians and had spent more than the average asari-life span in cryo-stasis just waiting for the right moment (which was yet another secret about the League of One he had omitted to mention to his favorite Councilor when introducing him to the idea that patience really was a virtue worth learning).
When he was sure that the Dalatrass got the idea, Ginon removed his hand and watched as she crawled to the opposite end of the bed – as if that would somehow save her if he changed his mind. A moment passed where he wondered if this was the first time the Dalatrass felt fear in her life… but then he got back to why he was here.
"Hello, most honorable Dalatrass Raeka," the greeting rolled of his tongue with a bitter taste, as did the drawn-out way of speaking. He faked it convincingly though. It'd make it less likely that he revealed his true allegiances. "Do not be alarmed, I'm a messenger, not an assassin.
"A messenger covered in the blood of my guards," the other salarian noted quickly. "What do you want?"
Ginon allowed a smirk to cross his face. "A regrettable consequence of our current situation," he replied. "Despite appearances, I came to talk. I have an offer, one I'm certain you won't refuse."
"Because you'll kill me if I do?"
He nearly let out a chuckle.
"Because you'd be a fool if you denied it. I'm about to give you a chance to have what you've been claiming to want for years."
"And what might that be?"
He looked at the Dalatrass for a moment. Once you saw past the social prestige, they and all nobles all looked the same, no matter which time you found them in. Frail, puny parasites leeching off of the work of honest people. When he found no concealed weapons in her reach, Ginon allowed himself a second of looking at the sky illuminated by the bioluminescent wildlife and wondered if Raeka could fathom the consequences of her next actions.
"Change."
Codex: The Extranet
The Extranet is the colloquial term used to refer to a galaxy-spanning digital exchange platform connected through using the comm-buoy network. First established by the volus alongside the introduction of the Galactic Standard Credit (and often brought up as yet another example as to why the volus are deserving of a seat on the Council) the extranet is – in easy terms – the next logical step in the evolution of planet-spanning computer networks and simply a scaled-up version of a concept already found within all societies that have passed the so-called 'Information Age'.
Used for every imaginable purpose ranging from entertainment and trade to social exchange and military communication, the Extranet is oftentimes described as the glue holding together galactic society. Without it, the digital democracies of many Asari Republics would outright fail, trade colonies would lose their relevance overnight and news agencies would collapse due to a sudden disruption of the information flow.
As with the Comm-Buoy network and the galactic economy, the Extranet is centered around the Citadel but given its vast size, servers connected to it are found on every inhabited planet in the galaxy; barring a number of – predominantly human - frontier colonies not yet connected to either the traditional comm-buoy network or the Extranet.
Due to its status as the glue of galactic society, the Extranet has fascinated sociologists throughout history and been the subject of uncountable debates ranging from the basic effects of digitalization on spacefaring civilizations all the way to the role of the Extranet in the Geth Uprising.
On a very important sidenote, the Extranet is also the platform responsible for hosting the famous (and currently viewed) Citadel Codex Application. (See Codex Entry 'Citadel Codex Application' or register now for premium access)
Due to the incredibly high number of users using the Extranet every day and the limitations of bandwidth provided on far-out portions of space, the Extranet is structured in a three-layer manner:
The upper most layer of the platform – which uses the most bandwidth and remains accessible as long as the comm-buoy network is operational – is reserved for military and governmental users. While all militaries and governments rely on the Extranet, it should at this stage be noted that not everyone is entirely reliant on it.
Whereas it is a publicly known fact that the various militaries of the Asari Republics exclusively rely on the Extranet and Comm-Buoy network for communications, the turian Battlenet, its salarian counterpart and the much more archaic and significantly less advanced human equivalent employed by the armed forces of the HSA ensure that most of the galactic military force would remain operation even in the event of a total Comm-Buoy Network failure.
The mid-layer of the Extranet – which uses less bandwidth than the top layer but still vastly more than the bottom-level – is reserved for corporations and paying customers. This layer offers fast connection times but can still be restricted by top-level users. Unlike most top-level users, the mid-layer users do not have an alternative platform and as such would be struck hard in the unlikely event of a wide-scale Extranet disruption.
Finally, the bottom-tier layer of the Extranet - which is used by ninety-seven percent of all users and available for free – offers the lowest bandwidth, can easily be restricted by higher-priority users and – depending on the current location of the user – might not be accessible at all. While annoying, a large-scale disruption would not affect most bottom-tier users.
A/N:
Truth be told, I kinda feel bad that all I can offer you after over a month of no word from me is this chapter.
But another truth be told... my pace might not even stay this "quick" in the foreseeable future
Long-story short (and without getting too private); I work a lot right now (because I want to) so you will have to get used to a month or two without an update and be happy if it gets there sooner. I know I am (needless to say, I still intend to finish this and its bugging me when days or weeks go by and I don't write more than a sentence because I just don't have the time or energy to get into the right kind of mindset to write SV)
Speaking off
Getting back into writing was ... hard. And I don't wanna lose my flow, so I sort of blew half my vacation on writing this chapter (and on catching up to where I actually was in regard to my thought process before I racked up like a 100 hours of overtime...)
but if that's what it'll take to maintain SV's level of quality - which I hope I did, like I said in the opening line, I am not entirely satisfied with this chapter'S content after how long you had to wait for it)- then I'll repeat this process until we've hit the foresseable future I talked about.
Ok, enough crying and apologizing.
Not a lot to say about this chapter other than that I will admit to adding the idea that the League of One consists of a bunch of ancient cryo-sleepers who only get up for a couple of weeks every couple of years or centuries or so after rewatching the opening of Andromeda and going like : well if that tech was around and people are wondering why the league seems to have a bit of an edge when it comes to playing the super long game... I might as well use it.
If you don't like SV getting this sci-fi-ey all of the sudden, rest assured: the League of One being a bunch of cryo-sleepers is only a funny idea with no huge relevance to SV's main characters and main story that you can safely pretend to ignore without the overall feel of the story suddenly being off :) (Although considering y'all had no problem with shep being in stasis and kinda dead for two years, I think this won't be an issue)
(additionally, i also decided that when that one salarian said that the plan was two millenia int he working... he actually meant that some of the people in the League of One worked two millenia on that plan and are still around to see it executed cuz i foudn that funny - sue me )
With that out of the way, I don't actually have a lot to say other than: Next Up; Derelict Reaper, so all of you Haugen and action fans - which I am sure there are plenty of - get your popcorn. (But don't warm it yet cuz it might be august or later when the chapter releases.)
For the record we're at 808 reviews, 1273 favorites and 1373 follows.
See you around next time.