Public Opinion was holding a press conference.
"Good afternoon," he began. "Thank you for coming in person to St. Petersburg. Before starting, I would like to apologize for the cramped quarters. As you are no doubt aware, this room is rarely used. We are at a point in our society where the physical spaces which we occupy are typically not so important. But, in certain rare cases, it does become true that a fully material press conference is preferable to a virtual one. Today is just such a case, and we shall endeavor to make things worth the while of those who were able to be present.
"Additionally, due to the remarkable nature of this press conference, I would like to lay a few ground rules. First, those who would like to speak must place a request through the network. We cannot feasibly conduct this conference through shouted questions. Second, all questions will be directed to myself, whereupon I will transfer the question to the appropriate body for answering. I will have final say on whether a question is deemed appropriate for this context, and reserve the right to veto any I deem inappropriate. A more fully contextualized set of these ground rules have been transmitted to you electronically.
"A few opening remarks are necessary to begin this press conference. First, let us be reminded that governments for most of human history have traditionally crushed the will of the people beneath the will of the ruling classes. This Governance was founded two hundred years ago in opposition to such ruling classes, and it was done so with the understanding that the existence of a human body and the presence of a traditionally human mind are not the only metrics by which we measure the worth of a sentient being. The union of Human and AI into a governing body has brought humanity to where it stands today, and none can deny that the cooperation and collaboration between organic and artificial intelligences for the betterment of all humanity has been fruitful. None can deny that the trust between humans and AIs must be willingly extended to others in order for the progress of humanity to continue.
"Such trust would seem beyond the reach of many. This Governance has never attempted to fabricate a false truth by which it may take and consolidate power. It is well known that in the pursuit of unity, this Governance has not tolerated the existence of other entities within its sphere of influence. Yet it is inevitable that, one day, an exception should arise, and it would seem that this day is the day where such an exception should occur. That it coincides with the outbreak of hostilities with the first alien race ever encountered by this Governance speaks to the need, in coming days, for a return to the foundational principles upon which we stand.
"It is with these principles in mind that we announce a new partnership between this Governance and a group of individuals who call themselves the Mahou Shoujo Youkai. Their leadership is here today, and there will be time to ask them questions afterward.
"Those among us who have knowledge of ancient languages will recognize this name as being written in archaic Japanese. It states, very simply, that the organization is a union for magical girls, created by magical girls for the interests of magical girls, in order to form a more perfect and united magical girl community. Such an organization is unique to the knowledge of this Governance, something which is in and of itself remarkable. It is clear, therefore, that there exists a series of exceptional circumstances within which this Governance must consider its attitude and stance towards the Mahou Shoujo Youkai.
"Such circumstances are numerous and difficult to enumerate in the time available in this press conference. The full list is displayed in the usual places. For now, it is sufficient to discuss two main points.
"The first and most notable of these is magic, seen now for the first time in use to assist our soldiers in their defense of Nazra Invictus. It is a notion that stands to revolutionize our understanding of the universe. As a society, we stand upon the shoulders of science to inform us of the secrets of the natural world. With our laws and theorems, we seek to understand and bring order to a universe which seems full of chaos. Knowing, as we do now, that there are things which do not follow these laws, we are obliged to question the assumptions by which we approach the nature of existence. Alone, we cannot hope to understand these new mysteries, but together, with the Mahou Shoujo Youkai, it becomes possible to peer into the shadows which the light of science has cast, and in so doing illuminate yet deeper questions and allow us all to grow.
"Of secondary interest is the breadth and depth by which the Mahou Shoujo Youkai has penetrated our society. We say that it is secondary not to diminish its importance, but rather because such penetration is benign at worst, and actively beneficial at best. In the most cold-blooded sense, such a potential advantage, particularly in light of recent encounters upon the colony of Nazra Invictus, cannot be discarded on the mere whim of paranoia. Again, the precise nature of this penetration is difficult to elaborate upon within the confines of this press conference. The Mahou Shoujo Youkai has asked this Governance to allow its members to reveal themselves in the coming weeks, and it is the intent of this Governance to grant this request.
"This is not to say that the Mahou Shoujo Youkai are a group isolated and apart. Granting such a request is only natural, as it is not in the policy of this Governance to treat individuals as if they must be controlled and directed. So too is this the policy of the Mahou Shoujo Youkai, and it is in this fundamental principle that this Governance has found the starting point for compromise. As must be expected, there are many differences that must be resolved, if indeed such differences need truly exist. To treat each other as potential enemies is to fundamentally undermine the possibility for such resolution, a notion that is abhorrent to both this Governance and the Mahou Shoujo Youkai. It is only by moving forward into the unknown together that a future, to the benefit and strength of all, may be forged.
"But such things are to come. In the coming weeks, look for further announcements by this Governance as the situation develops. For the present time, other priorities stand before us. First and foremost is the need for calm. Do not be afraid, for the members of the Mahou Shoujo Youkai are not your enemies. They are your neighbors and your friends, people who you ought to know and to trust. They are people, just as human as yourself or as an AI, and ought to be treated as such. Second is to look to the conflict at and around Nazra Invictus. It is our aim to forge peace and prosperity with these new beings, and this Governance has accepted an offer of a ceasefire from their government. Despite this, it is not wise to be complacent, and we must always be prepared for the possibility of wider conflict. Be prepared to respond as is necessary to affirm the principles which we hold dearest to our hearts.
"And now to conclude. There are many questions to ask, and no doubt they will all be voiced at some point as this speech ends. Yet there is only one, truly, to answer. We, as a species, have created great peace and prosperity across many years. In these times of great change, will we act to destroy that which we have created? Or will we stand firm in the face of a chaotic universe and work together to grow and to learn, not only as individuals, but as a unified species that has earned its right to be?
"And now, I will be taking questions."
Emma fidgeted as the platoon she was sitting with glanced at her, then back to the holoscreen of the press conference, then back to her, and repeated the cycle. The latest ceasefire —or "cooling off period" or window of opportunity or whatever you wanted to call it— had resulted in yet another reshuffling of units. According to the higher ups, this was intended to be a longer-term ceasefire, and that the political situation warranted some relaxation of their military stance.
Well, "relaxation". Emma and the rest of the magical girls were still very much part of the frontline reserves. Soldiers still stood on standby, and their weapons and vehicles were still ready to go at the next alarm klaxon. The only "relaxation" that had really occurred was that a larger amount of reserves were encamped out of the range of enemy artillery, trusting in early warning platforms to keep them safe from air or orbital attack. The magical girls had been spread out, just in case, in order to keep them from being taken out by one lucky shot. Emma had immediately been "called" by Second Platoon.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
"Well that's a fucking trip, that is," said one of the soldiers. "Do ye really believe what they say about permeating all of society?"
"I mean, you remember our supply officer, Genevieve, right? And how she kept randomly disappearing off for 'family business'?"
"What? No man, Genevieve was straight, man, she was straight! No way she was secretly one-a-dem sparklies."
"Hey I'm just saying man, it's kinda suspicious."
"What was her last name?" asked Emma.
"Sullivan," supplied a soldier. "Sergeant Genevieve Sullivan."
Emma looked up the name on the MSY database.
"Too many hits," said Emma, shrugging. "I could look harder, but I think that'd be prying too much."
"Yeah, I agree," said Annalise, crossing her arms as she watched the conference. "We can send her a letter later if you guys really want, but let's try not to be dicks about the situation."
"Aye, Sarge," chorused the platoon.
The group fell into silence briefly while the talking on screen continued. Emma fidgeted some more, rubbing her regrown arm as she watched. It was kind of surreal, hearing all these things out in public like this.
"What do you think?"
Emma looked at Annalise and raised a questioning eyebrow. "I mean, I knew a lot of this already."
"Sure, but knowing and thinking are different things," said Annalise. She gestured vaguely. "So, what do you think?"
"I mean, I grew up with this, you know?" said Emma with a shrug. "I became a magical girl about the same age as Ryouko, so I've spent a long time living life with this knowledge."
Annalise watched the holoscreen for a moment, quiet.
"It seems like it'd be a big change, for someone that young," said Annalise. "Having large amounts of your world upended like that."
"We try to keep it slow," said Emma. "The younger girls don't need to know everything, and it's overwhelming enough to have magic suddenly. Hell, to be honest, I don't even know the implications of all of this, I just know that it exists."
"Mmm. Youth."
"I guess," said Emma, shrugging again. She looked down at the ground. "Honestly, it's amazing how young I am, you know? Things happen, and you realize how much you don't know. How much you—"
"—didn't know you didn't know, right?" said Annalise with a sympathetic smile. "Yeah."
"Did you feel like this, when you joined the military?" Emma asked, turning to look at Annalise.
"Yes and no," said Annalise. She sighed. "I guess, no, because training was all about breaking you down and building you back up, but it was a sideways change. Yes, because I keep finding new things every time I deploy."
"Like what?"
"Like you guys," said Annalise. She gave Emma a small smile. "Magic's real, and that's a cool thing to learn."
"Psh, sure," laughed Emma. "We are pretty cool, aren't we?"
The two laughed quietly, the press conference rolling on in the background.
"Aren't you weirded out by this?" Emma asked, nodding at the holoscreen. "It's pretty big news."
"Well, you know, it's a thing," said Annalise, shrugging. "The Military is going to be more paranoid, of course, so we'll have to see on that front."
"Do you think they'll kick any magical girls out of the Military?"
"Could be," said Annalise. "It makes sense, at least temporarily."
Emma frowned and sighed. "I thought you might say that. Security risk, right?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Hahh, it's going to be a clusterfuck," sighed Emma. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "All the companies HSIS works with are going to freak out."
Annalise gave a wry chuckle and patted Emma on the shoulder. "Good luck on that front, Bluebird."
"Thanks," said Emma wryly. "How crazy is it that I'm thinking about switching jobs just to avoid the clusterfuck?"
"Eh, I can understand that actually," said Annalise. "I'd stick it out a little more if I were you. If nothing else, bailing on the situation is a dick move."
Emma frowned. "That's true. Still, now that things have happened, I wonder if I couldn't get a job in the Colonial Police. I've never actually liked working in finance that much."
"Worth thinking about," said Annalise, nodding.
They paused briefly.
"Well anyway," said Emma, "have you heard any news about the fleets?"
"Not really," said Annalise. She frowned pensively. "If you look at the timelapses of the fleet positions, it seems like the Turians are cycling out their fleet for other, similarly sized vessels. I haven't heard anything about what that might mean."
"They could just be reinforcing and resupplying, right?" asked Emma. "They can't do a fleet buildup without being a threat."
"Well, they also use that 'mass relay' to jump in and out," said Annalise. "So for all we know, they have a bunch of battlecruisers sitting just on the other side. We just don't know."
"Well, then, what do we do?"
Annalise frowned and shrugged.
"We wait."
Eunoe grasped the crystal drinking glass in her claws, looking down into the clear liquid within. For an alien alcoholic beverage, this "vodka" was refreshingly straightforward. It got the job done, no fuss, no muss. More importantly, she had been assured that there were only trace amino acids in the liquid, if at all, which meant she could drink it. That was not true for most of the other drinks available at this bar, which the humans understandably manufactured to be compatible with their base physiology.
There were a few other drinks the bartender claimed she could drink. Manufactured on alien worlds, he had claimed, where the plant life matched Turian physiology. Eunoe didn't feel at ease drinking it, though—she still couldn't quite bring herself to believe the humans' claims about their implants and the processing of dextro amino acids.
Adrea, on the other hand, was happily sipping away on one of the bartender's recommendations. In retrospect, the signs that Adrea was the much older one had always been there, but Eunoe had simply never noticed them, because they simply didn't make sense.
"So what did you want to talk about?" Eunoe said, after taking a deep swig of her alcohol. "Not that I don't appreciate you taking on this little supervised excursion, but you did imply there was a special reason for this."
She looked at the two guards standing awkwardly at the doorway of the bar. She couldn't imagine what kind of strings Adrea had pulled for them to let her take Eunoe to a bar, of all places, even if it was human-run.
Adrea closed her eyes for a moment, before setting her drink down and looking at Eunoe out of the corner of her eye.
"It's about Junoa."
Eunoe immediately tensed up at the mention of her former platoon-mate.
"Is there something wrong?" she asked.
Adrea cradled her drink in both hands.
"You're still pretty traumatized by what happened to her, aren't you?"
Eunoe immediately started to see it again: the alien holding Junoa up by the neck, her neck snapping—
She shook her head, a bit too violently. Not right now.
"I am not," she said.
"Yes you are," Adrea retorted immediately. "And don't ask me how I know that either."
Eunoe drummed her claws on the counter. She still didn't know how to feel about the fact that her friend had been reading her thoughts all these years.
"What about it, then?" she said, finally. "I still have nightmares about it, but I'll get over it. What else can I do?"
Adrea leaned over towards Eunoe, as if preparing to dispense a confidential secret.
"A counselor on the human side has gotten in touch with my organization," she said. "The alien who killed Junoa has been suffering nightmares, and has been having flashbacks back to what she did, and the counselor wanted to have her talk to someone from Junoa's platoon, to try and help her come to terms. I know a good candidate."
Eunoe couldn't conceal the horror in her expression, nor could she stop the sudden flashes of the alien's face in her mind, smiling a soul-searing grin as she snapped Junoa's neck.
"You see?" Adrea said. "That's not how it really was and you know it. If you just meet the girl, you'll see that she's just a child, and not the monster you fear."
Eunoe shook her head, speechless. Even if that was true, how was it supposed to help?
"I thought you had to be in that ridiculous costume to read my mind," Eunoe said, avoiding the topic.
"I don't," Adrea said. "I trained myself not to need it. Anyway, if you don't think it will help you, do it for her instead. We Turians came here and turned her into a killer. That's how she sees it. If nothing else, we have to atone for that. What kind of soldier would you be to keep running from that?"
Eunoe sucked in an angry breath, then picked up her glass and tossed the rest of the drink down the back of her throat.
"Fine," she said, managing to avoid coughing. "But you owe me."
"Sure I do."
Indeed, she was only a child.
That much was immediately obvious, despite the gap in species and culture. Everything about the girl's demeanor across the meeting table made it obvious, from the way she avoided Eunoe's gaze to the way she sat, just a little fidgety.
The silence stretched onward.
"I'm sorry for ki-killing your friend," the child said, unprompted, just as Eunoe had started trying gathering herself to say something.
Eunoe tried to imagine the garish grin of her nightmares on the child's face, and couldn't do it.
What would Althaea want? she thought.
"It wasn't your fault," Eunoe said. "It was ours. We should never have been there to start with."
That wasn't strictly the truth, of course. They were infantry of the Peacekeeping Fleet, at the whim of the Turian Hierarchy's High Command. They had signed up to conduct disaster relief, hunt pirates, and, yes, keep the peace. In this case they had done quite arguably the opposite, but no one could honestly say it was Eunoe's fault, even if she had been at the tip of the spear.
Just as no one could say Junoa's death was the fault of the child across from her.
The truth was obvious. The apparition of her nightmares wasn't a real person at all. It was only a ghoul, born out of her sorrow for Althaea and Junoa, out of the senselessness of this conflict, out of her own soul. It wasn't terribly different from being scared of monsters in the dark as a child, except that this darkness was infinitely blacker, formed by the void that lingered forever at the edge of life, the one that never stopped asking:
What is the purpose of any of this?
What is the purpose of you?
"It's not your fault," the child across from her said. "You're just saying."
"Whose fault is it, then?" the other alien, "Clarisse", asked.
"It's no one's fault," Eunoe said, with a conviction she hadn't felt in a long time. "Just like death, and evil, and suffering. But just because it's no one's fault doesn't mean we can't fight it."
Adrea smiled.
"I heard a story from a Krogan once, long ago," she said. "She told me the story of a great warrior who slew their evil god. And when he was done, the others asked him why he didn't sheath his weapon. He said that the evil god was only the easiest challenge, and that as Krogan they could never stop fighting. And that is why the Krogan fight."
Clarisse nodded.
"We have similar stories."
"You humans have conquered death, have you not?" Eunoe said, looking at the child. "The most ancient of enemies, and you defeated him."
"I wouldn't say we've quite defeated death," Clarisse said.
"It's no one's fault," Eunoe repeated, "but we should still fight it. In Junoa's memory, if we must."
"Who's Junoa?" Ryouko asked. "Was she… your friend?"
"My dead friend," Eunoe said, stretching out a hand. "But I'll forgive you, if you'll forgive me, and together we can fight the real enemy."
Ryouko looked at Eunoe's clawed hand with confusion and wonder, before taking it a moment later.
Eunoe pulled the alien up to stand with her.
"Let's take a walk," she said. "You can tell me about who you've lost, and I'll tell you about Junoa and Althaea."
Septimus sighed as he sat back in his seat, running a talon over the top of his desk. He had been worried, for a while, that he wouldn't be able to make it back here. But, fortunately, the situation had been contained. He had been allowed to return to his ship nearly a week ago, after the initial "cooling off period" had been brokered. Technically speaking, conflict could reignite at any time, but Septimus did not intend for this to happen.
His first step had been to draw down his lines, pulling most of his troops back to the reserves. The Human commander had mirrored Septimus's action, and while both of them were too experienced to really let their troops stand down, it was an important symbolic gesture. The appropriate logistical considerations followed, as a matter of course, and had taken a bit of negotiating in order to sort out. In the end, though, things had proceeded smoothly.
The next step had been prisoner exchange.
Septimus sighed again and rubbed his jaw. Medigel was a wonderful thing, but his plating still wasn't healed. He'd carry the scar for the rest of his life, unless human medical technology became available to Council species. Spirits knew it was apparently capable of amazing things, and had even been able to provide some assistance to Septimus's troops. Even so, he wasn't sure he wanted to remove the scar. It would serve to remind him of what had happened here.
Prisoner exchange was ongoing, and was being a colossal chore. The injured were, of course, immediately transferred over. Septimus had neither the facilities nor the resources to treat them appropriately, and it was frankly a Spirit-sent miracle that none of them had died. Human medical technology even allowed their fatally injured to be brought back to life later, something that nobody had thought possible.
Apparently, the record for longest time left on the battlefield was held by one Corporal Eleanora, having lost both legs during the initial Turian assault and been left for dead during the after-battle sweeps. Fortunately, the Corporal had taken things in stride and was refraining from causing a political uproar.
The transfer of the rest of the prisoners was more difficult for reasons that were truly unfathomable to Septimus. The entire process was supposed to be a fleet affair, but it had somehow become a political pain in the fringe. Jaira T'ari, the council diplomat that had been sent to "oversee" the situation, kept making impositions on his command. These, of course, had to be balanced in order to keep the politicians happy, and put constant delays on the process of moving people back and forth across the line.
Septimus sighed again and picked up his stylus. Political maneuvers were such an unnecessary chore.
Another half hour was passed in silence, save for the unnecessarily cheerful beeps when Septimus' omnitool received yet another request for something inane. Septimus was seriously contemplating violating regulation and having a drink while working when he was saved by a knock at his door.
"Private Eunoe Aurelian is here to see you, sir," said Septimus's adjutant, poking his head in through the door.
"Excellent, send her in," said Septimus. He was still restricted to using his omnitool to transmit subvocalizations. "This damned paperwork is about to drown me."
"Very good sir."
Private Eunoe was, in Septimus's estimation, surprisingly well put together for someone who had been through what she had. Her armor had been repaired and cleaned, the nicks and burns from combat removed and replaced with shining regulation paint. Mourning patterns had been carefully added to Eunoe's upper arm plating. Small, vertical bars, one for each of the dead she was personally mourning, stood underneath the larger insignia for her unit as a whole.
Septimus was abruptly reminded of the bars painted on his own plating. Arturius had been an excellent officer, but also a friend. Septimus would miss him.
"Private Eunoe Aurelian reporting, Legate," said Eunoe, coming to attention and saluting.
"At ease, Private," said Septimus, rising and saluting back. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well sir, thank you," said Eunoe, relaxing her posture.
"You were captured early in the fighting, if I recall correctly?" Septimus asked, stepping around his desk and sitting on the corner.
"Yes sir," said Eunoe. "During the initial assault on the Human communications center."
"I see. I understand you lost a lot of friends in that attack. I'm sorry for putting you through that."
"Don't apologize sir. We all have our orders."
Septimus nodded and folded his arms. He gave Eunoe a considering look.
"Come, let's enjoy some of the privileges of rank," Septimus said, gesturing for Eunoe to follow him as he walked slowly to the end of his office. The wall shimmered and turned into a livefeed from the external cameras on one of the low-altitude troop support ships. "Tell me Private, what are your opinions of the Humans?"
Eunoe followed, somewhat confused. "My opinion, sir?"
"Yes," said Septimus. He folded his talons behind his back as he considered the planet slowly panning past, the colors of its surface and atmosphere reflecting off of the tiles in Septimus's office. The room's lights dimmed for effect.
"What do you mean, sir?" asked Eunoe, standing next to Septimus to watch the planetscape.
"I mean that you seem very… at peace, with the situation."
Eunoe was silent for a moment. The troop support ship's trajectory moved them towards a wide flatland on one of the planet's continents. Clouds formed a loose patchwork over it, potentially heralding rain.
"It's…" Eunoe began, before pausing. Septimus didn't say anything.
"It's difficult, for me, to blame them for their actions, sir," said Eunoe carefully. "I… feel that it would only be right, if the situation were reversed, for us to take similar steps."
Septimus nodded. "Very empathetic of you, Private."
"Is it, sir? I would have thought most of us would recognize that."
"You would be surprised, Private," said Septimus. He shrugged dispassionately. "As commanding officer, I was required to testify at the Council of Primarchs. The atmosphere was… interesting."
"Sir?"
"Let us simply say, for the moment, that Palaven is not wholly willing to accept the situation," said Septimus with a deep sigh. "Some still regard it as an unacceptable defeat."
Eunoe made a face of abject shock. "Do you mean that some of them want to prosecute an actual war?"
"I will make no further comment on the matter," said Septimus. "It is, of course, inappropriate to comment too much. Perhaps if they had seen more of the Humans, they would feel differently."
Septimus glanced at Eunoe, gauging her reaction. She seemed troubled, and angry.
"In any case," Septimus continued after a moment. "What are your impressions of Human culture? What sort of people are they?"
"It's difficult to say," said Eunoe. "There are a lot of differences, of course, but also a lot of similarities. Their military is structured similarly to ours, but I get the impression that they have more separation of work and leisure than we do."
"Nothing more specific?"
"Well, it's the little differences, sir," said Eunoe. "I can't list all of them, obviously. But their children are children. There's nothing too terribly alien about them, other than their physiology and their AIs."
"What do you think of their AIs?" asked Septimus. "Do you think they're a threat?"
Eunoe shrugged. "I couldn't say for sure, sir. I haven't met any."
"You don't have fears of them behaving like the Geth?"
Eunoe shrugged again uncertainly. "I don't think so? But I couldn't say for sure, sir."
"I see," said Septimus. He pondered the situation.
Privately, Septimus was sure that the Humans would have welcomed meeting other species with very little fuss. As it stood, that opportunity was probably lost. Politics would be complicated, and it was unlikely that there would ever be a lessening of the distrust that the Humans probably felt towards the Turians. There was little they could do about this, as soldiers.
"Well, thank you for your time, Private," said Septimus. "That was all I wanted to talk about. You're dismissed."
"If I may make a request, sir," said Eunoe. "The Human military is intending to hold a memorial soon. I would like to attend, sir."
Septimus nodded. "That seems reasonable to me, Private. Pass the request through the usual channels, of course, but I will make sure to approve on your behalf. Out of curiosity, when is the memorial being held?"
"Within a week of the formal cessation of hostilities," said Eunoe. "It will be military only. They intend to have another one for the families later."
"Hmm," mused Septimus. "I see. Thank you for the information, Private. Will that be all?"
"Yes sir. Thank you sir."
The two exchanged salutes again, and Eunoe left. Septimus remained at the viewscreen, thinking. Plans for the Turian memorial had been drafted already, and were sitting in Septimus's inbox for final approval. However…
"Begin note," Septimus said, his omnitool automatically starting its dictation software. "To the honorable Human commander…"
"This is absolutely unacceptable!"
It was the Turian Councillor, Sparatus, who had the first response to Jaira's news of the Human demand.
The Asari and Salarian Councillors, Tevos and Valern respectively, turned towards their colleague, mixed expressions on their faces. Jaira could read their thoughts easily from their expressions: if such a strong reaction was the official opinion of the Turian Hierarchy, then the situation could get very complicated.
A moment later, however, Sparatus ducked his head slightly, looking embarrassed. He took a moment to gather himself, then cleared his throat awkwardly.
"My apologies, Councillors," he said. "That outburst is reflective only of me, not of the Hierarchy."
"What is the opinion of the Hierarchy on this matter?" Valern asked.
Sparatus's expression went through several contortions before he could master it again.
"I do not know," he said. "The situation is unexpected. We had not factored it into our planning. The Hierarchy was happy to enter into negotiations given the previously stated conditions, but this is clearly flaunting their disrespect in our faces."
"I would not necessarily view it that way," Valern said. "True, that is likely how many galactic observers would see the matter, but with a more nuanced understanding of their culture, the Salarian Union has come to see that your troops' ill-considered execution of one of their AIs is viewed as a war crime. This is, perhaps, meant as a statement on that matter."
"And where did the Union get this 'nuanced' understanding, then?" Tevos asked. "The STG?"
"I am not privileged to reveal that information," Valern responded levelly. "Nonetheless, the Humans have not hidden their opinions in this regard, as I am sure your own diplomats and agents have informed you."
His holographic gaze turned towards Jaira, who was, after all, most in the position to have done so. Jaira had stayed quiet, having learned from experience that it was usually better to just let the Council talk until they were ready to acknowledge you.
Case in point: Sparatus spoke before Jaira could.
"We are aware," Sparatus said. "We had not expected a move like this, but we… understand the reality on the ground. There is of course no way to engage in peaceful intercourse with this species without at least amending our decrees about AIs."
"It was a logical move, and not entirely unexpected," Tevos said. "We made a demand as a face-saving gesture, and they make one as a face-saving gesture in return. However robotic they may turn out to be, they do not appear to be immune to politics, which gives me hope at least that they are not like the Geth."
"With the evidence in hand, it is extraordinarily unlikely that they are like the Geth," Valern said. "We should think twice before antagonizing a militarily powerful race over old prejudices."
"We question in which direction your prejudices lie, given that you speak as if using their rhetoric," Sparatus said pointedly. "Nonetheless, you cannot avoid acknowledging that allowing them to send an AI representative to a peace conference would be powerfully provocative."
"Or a symbol of reconciliation," Valern said. "It would be easy to turn the narrative that way, if we made a push for it."
"It would make the galaxy wonder how serious the Council is about its decrees if we abandoned them so readily," Sparatus commented.
"What is the Hierarchy's likely position, then?" Tevos asked. "Or do you wish to consult your government? There may be some time sensitivity to this matter."
Sparatus paused for a long moment, clearly turning the thought over in his head.
"My sense is that the Hierarchy would accept," he said "We have already made a number of concessions in the course of events so far, and in their view, we already abandoned a hard-line stance on the AI issue when we failed to press the offensive after learning about it."
"But your personal opinion is that you don't like it?" Tevos asked.
"Of course not," he said. "This is reckless and soft at the same time."
"Well, either way, it is settled then," Tevos said. "We are happy to make this accommodation in the interest of peace, which gives us unanimity. You may tell the humans that their offer is accepted, Jaira."
"Thank you," Jaira said, ducking her head in deference to the Council. Sometimes, her job was easy.
"Now tell us a bit more of your observations of these Humans," Tevos began.
"You know, I'm glad that it looks like we're going to have peace," Thaleon said, lying with both hands under his head on Jaira's—well, cleavage. It was the sort of provocative pose that suggested they might get right back to their previous work, once they both recharged a little.
"Really?" Jaira asked, her hand resting on Thaleon's chest. "I never thought you were the peace and prosperity kind of guy."
"Well, you know," Thaleon said. "If there were war, I'd probably have to deploy with the rest of the STG team, and though I relish a challenge, I can't honestly say the chances I'd have of surviving such a deployment would be more than fifty-fifty. Not with the crazy technology the Humans seem to have."
"Again, though, you don't really seem like the type to avoid that," Jaira said. "Weren't you the one who always talked about Salarians living short lives anyway? 'You Asari have a good reason to stay out of war,' you said, and I quote."
"Yeah, well, maybe it's the soft blue tits I'm lying on right now, or maybe it's the devilish Asari aura talking, but this particular Salarian is starting to think about his legacy."
"Legacy?" Jaira asked, taken aback.
"Yes," Thaleon said. "A Salarian male like me has almost no chance of having any children, because I'm just not politically important enough to be allowed to mate with any females. The only other route it'd be possible is, well, via an Asari."
Jaira felt her mouth dry out. This was the last conversation she was expecting to have.
"Now ordinarily," Thaleon said, "us Salarians couldn't give less of a hoot. But whatever witchcraft you Asari have that makes us interested in sex, also makes us interested in other things. And you know, right now, I can't help but remember that I just don't have that many years left in me."
"Oh goddess, Thaleon," Jaira said. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I know you're still young," Thaleon said, "but we Salarians go through our lives a lot faster. The Thaleon who met your parents all those years ago was much younger. I wasn't ready then, but I'm ready now."
There was a long silence.
"I understand if you're not, though. As I said, you're still very young for an Asari."
"It's not that, Thaleon. It's just…"
She fell silent, wondering how she could possibly say what she felt. She feared taking the next step, because their daughter would be Asari, and in only a few short years Thaleon would be dead, and both of them would be alone. But how could she deny…
She raised her hands higher, placing them against the sides of Thaleon's head. Not once ever had she done this with him.
"Jaira, is this—?" Thaleon began.
She began the mind-meld.
Emma wasn't entirely sure if she was being a fifth wheel. She decided not to question anything about being asked to come with Tricia's family out to a sort of… food gathering expedition. Emma'd never heard of that sort of thing, but apparently Tricia's little brother, Alton, was an enthusiastic forager of the local plant life.
"Ferns, ferns, ferns," Alton mumbled to himself as he picked his way through the underbrush, eyes scanning the forest floor. "I need ferns for the pickles… where are the— oh mushrooms, those could be good…"
"Yes, he's always like this," Tricia sent to Emma over telepathy. "You have to watch out, because he hasn't figured out that trees exist."
"Is it dangerous at all?" Emma asked. Tricia's parents hadn't come with them, and were in a clearing preparing for whatever it was that Alton managed to find. "I'd have thought, with all the undocumented wildlife, that there's a risk of him getting hurt."
"No, the biology teams have decided that the valleys in general have low risk, and Alton says that he hasn't finished with the valleys yet," said Tricia. Emma looked over to see an affectionate smile across Tricia's face.
In the end, Tricia's mother and younger brother had been found in fugue. They had taken shelter in the basement of one of the science buildings, then had the building collapse on them during a Turian bombardment. Fortunately, the collapsing buildings had missed anything vital, and Medical had been able to restore them to full health. Alton seemed to have bounced back well from nearly dying, but Tricia's mother, Samantha, was having a tougher time of it. The family had decided to have a picnic to try and take their minds off of the whole business.
Emma, meanwhile, had once again found herself without much to do. The formal ceasefire had come through very recently, and the magical girls had all been pulled off the line almost immediately afterwards. The military was treating the situation with a fair amount of paranoia, as a matter of course, but it was starting look more and more like the Turians might be getting a permanent installation on Nazra Invictus. It felt like a concession, which it probably was, but Emma had decided not to think too much about it. It was a minor concession, in light of stopping the bloodshed.
"Hey, Emma," Alton called out, waving. "You've never been out here before right? Come take a look at this."
Alton was standing in a clearing of tall, blue things. After a moment, Emma's implants provided the name of the species.
"Blue, uh, Marlinfruits huh?" Emma said as she approached the clearing. The blue things were roughly two meters tall, narrow at their base where they emerged from rocky soil and swelling as they grew upwards as a single continuous stalk. The things were widest at about waist level and slightly ribbed, then continued to taper again and begin to curl into vaguely tentacle-like shapes. "Why are they called that?"
"Honestly, I have no idea," said Alton. "They're really tasty though. Blue Marlinfruits are a kind of succulent organism that's under the Earth-classification of 'plant-life', even though strictly speaking they're not plants. What we eat is this pod in the center—" Alton reached out and squeezed one of the pods "—which as you can see is kind of spongy. You're looking for ones that have a very bright blue color in the center and don't spring back when you give them a squeeze."
Emma nodded, looking around and testing a Blue Marlinfruit nearby. The pod indeed squished under her fingers, leaving behind the imprint of her hand. "Is this good?"
"Yeah, that's about right," said Alton. He moved over, producing a knife from a pocket very suddenly and scoring the stem of the plant just below the pod, then pulling sharply to the side. The stem fractured with a sharp crack, splitting away from the base with a splash of a fishy-smelling, deep red sap. In a single smooth motion, Alton slit open the pod and popped it open, revealing a pink core that dripped a vibrantly floral-smelling syrup.
"Here, have a taste of the syrup," said Alton, handing Emma the pod. "Tell me what you think."
Emma gave Tricia a vaguely alarmed look and lifted the pod up to her lips, tipping a little of the syrup into her mouth. The flavor was sharply acidic, but very sweet and intensely, almost unpleasantly, floral.
"That is, ngh, interesting," Emma said, handing the pod back to Alton. She licked her lips, grimacing at the sour aftertaste of the syrup. "I uh, am not sure I like it."
"Ah, yeah, the syrup can be an acquired taste," said Alton with an understanding smile. He swept his knife through the core to cut it into bite-sized chunks, then held out a piece for Emma to try. "You might like this better."
Cautiously, Emma placed the section in her mouth and was pleasantly surprised. The texture was smooth and creamy, like a custard, but with a deeply meaty flavor. The flavors of the syrup and the core mixed together as she chewed, ending up with something that was almost like a tangy piece of sushi.
"That's amazing!" Emma said, surprised.
"Isn't it?" Alton said with a broad grin. "Blue Marlinfruit is some of the best fruit we can get in the valleys around here. You can do a lot of things with it, and it keeps well if you keep it in its pod and give it enough time for the sap at the ends to dry. Can you guys help carry some of these back? I think we'll grill them with some of the ferns I've been looking for."
"Uh, sure, but we don't have knives," said Emma. "Do you want us to just carry stuff for you?"
"Can't you use your magical girl weapons?" asked Alton, tilting his head.
Emma blinked. "Er, well, mine doesn't quite work," she said a little awkwardly. "Polearms are a bit too large."
"You can use one of my knives," said Tricia, fiddling with her soul gem ring. "If, er, you're okay with this?"
"Are you okay with this?" Emma asked, giving Tricia a skeptical look.
"I'm fine," said Tricia. "Are you ready, Alton?"
"Sure."
Tricia took a deep breath, then transformed in a flash of blue light.
"Hmm," Alton said thoughtfully as he looked Tricia over. "You look lame, sis."
"Eh?"
"Yeah, the frills are super tacky," said Alton with a teasing grin. "You should consider— ack!"
"I like my costume!" Tricia shouted as she pulled Alton into a noogie, grinding her knuckles into her younger brother's scalp.
"Agh, mercy! Mercy!" Alton cried, squirming in Tricia's grip. "I give!"
"Hmph, good," Tricia sniffed, turning Alton and his mussed hair loose. The boy giggled to himself as he left to begin cutting down stalks of alien fruit. "Little brothers. Jeez. Anyway, Emma, here's a knife."
Emma took the magically manifested weapon with a bemused look.
"It's good that he's taking it well," she said over telepathy.
"Yeah, it is," said Tricia, smiling a little more widely as she flicked her sword out. She squeezed a nearby pod, then swept her blade through the base of the plant. "I was a little worried."
"Ah. How uh, are your parents doing?"
Tricia swept her blade through another stalk with a sharp flick of her wrist. The red sap splashed across the ground. "They're fine."
Emma gave Tricia a skeptical look that the younger girl didn't notice.
"They'll probably get used to it soon," said Emma, turning to a pod and giving it an experimental squeeze. "My family's been sort of quietly freaking out too, though my girlfriend's helping smooth things over."
Tricia nodded. "That's good."
They worked quietly for a moment.
"When do classes start again?" asked Emma.
"Not for a while," said Tricia with a shrug. "There's supposed to be an announcement, but best guess is that it's probably not until after the near-term politics get figured out."
"Ah. Are you nervous?"
Tricia paused, then sliced through a Marlinfruit stalk. "Not really, no."
Emma nodded. "I'm thinking about joining the Soul Guard, maybe staying out here on Nazra Invictus."
"Really?" asked Tricia, surprised. "Weren't you some sort of banker before this?"
"Investment researcher," Emma corrected. "But yeah."
"That seems like a pretty big career change."
"A bit," said Emma. "But I never liked investments and stuff, and doing research is kind of like a mystery. I'd have to see what the Soul Guard needs these days."
"That could be cool, yeah," said Tricia. "Have you told your family yet?"
"I haven't, no," said Emma. She paused thoughtfully. "Still, I mean, all things considered, they may not care that much."
"Maybe."
"Anyway, we should hurry up," said Emma, looking down at the three stalks she'd cut in the time it took Alton to cut half a dozen.
Tricia laughed. "Probably. Hey, Alton! How many of these do we need?"
It seemed to Mami Tomoe that her life had taken a relatively unexpected turn.
One of Mami's bodyguards, Patricia, was frowning pensively at a holographic Go board. Across from her, Governance's latest Directorate AI seemed to be mulling over the problem with great intensity. Mami wasn't convinced. Governance: Foreign Affairs, who had asked to be called Catherine when possible, was only a few days old, but was already exhibiting an alarming ability to mask what she was thinking behind an extremely convincing facade. All things considered, this was probably a good thing, but it made the AI very difficult to judge.
The small group that made up humanity's very first interspecies diplomatic delegation was sitting in the lounge of the HSS Cote d'Azur, a VIP transport corvette that, despite being a military vessel, was sumptuously laid out with plush chamois seating and real, quarried marble tables. They would not be able to enjoy the luxury for very long, however, as the Cote d'Azur had no mass effect drive, and thus would be unable to transport the delegation to the Citadel. They were instead to transfer to an Asari vessel, departing from Nazra Invictus and flying back in a few weeks.
"Atari," Patricia said quietly, placing a white piece on the board with a subdued clack. The move put fourteen black pieces in danger of capture, only one life remaining on the formation.
Catherine furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. The AI mulled over the board, picking up a black Go piece and hesitating briefly before placing another piece down on a completely separate part of the board. The move made Patricia pause, frowning intensely, before clacking down a piece and capturing the fourteen black pieces.
"Atari," said Catherine, placing another piece. Seven pieces suddenly appeared to be under threat. Patricia hurried to defend them.
"Atari."
Patricia frowned, placing another piece.
"Atari," Catherine stated a final time.
Patricia stared at the board. Somehow she'd managed to end up with half her territory collapsing under Catherine's assault. It had taken three moves to destroy the entirety of Patricia's position.
"I give up," Patricia said, throwing her hands up in exasperation and leaning back in her chair. "This is pointless, I'm never going to win!"
"That one was better!" said Catherine with a charismatic smile. "It wasn't nearly as bad as the first game."
Patricia made a grunting noise.
"Seriously, you learn quickly," said Catherine sincerely. "You clearly have talent."
Patricia made another annoyed grunting noise, but smiled slightly. "Well, thanks, I suppose. Do you want to try, Mami-san?"
"I'll pass, thank you," said Mami, smiling demurely with a sip of her tea. "I am quite out of practice, and so don't think the game would be too interesting."
"I'm sure you could give me a run for my money," said Catherine, despite dismissing the Go board with a wave of her hand. "But I think the Asari are arriving in system, so there probably isn't time for a game."
Patricia and Mami turned to the wall of the HSS Cote d'Azur as an announcement rippled across their implants: "All hands, foreign ship arriving in system."
The local mass relay was glowing. It was the typical sign that something was coming, and the brighter the glow, it seemed, the larger the Thing. A rhythmic pulsing began to ripple down the length of the mass relay before there was a flash and a burst of radiation and then, by Turian standards, a truly colossal ship.
"HSS Cote d'Azur, this is the Destiny Ascension," hailed the ship's commanding officer. "On behalf of the Council and of the Asari Republics: Greetings. I am Matriarch Lidanya, captain of this ship and fleet commander of the Citadel Fleet. By the authority vested within me by Council Order number Seven Zero Two, I hereby extend diplomatic immunity to the human diplomatic delegation, as well as the welcome and the hospitality of the races of Council space."
"Destiny Ascension, we hear your transmission and extend our thanks," said Cote d'Azur. "We would like to extend to you and your crew a token of our gratitude, and have prepared several Earth confections in bulk quantities for your crew to sample. In addition, we would like to invite your command staff to the Cote d'Azur for refreshments after your journey."
There was a brief pause. "Our thanks, Cote d'Azur. We would gladly accept your offer, and are transmitting directions for delivery of your confections. What time would you wish to meet for refreshments?"
Mami tuned out of the feed and shook her head in amusement. It had been Catherine's idea to bring enough ice cream to feed ten thousand at least two servings each. It was a little bit insane, as plans went, and personally, Mami always felt that cake was the ideal diplomatic treat, but it would probably work.
Well, the good news was, these aliens seemed very human. Implausibly so, relative to what the simulations had predicted. If that held up, it made her and Catherine's jobs a lot easier. Mami would have had no idea how to negotiate with squid aliens or something like that, but she could schmooze humanoid aliens with ice cream and cake like nobody else. It had, after all, been her specialty.
Her only regret was that she was going to have to put off the latest trip she'd been planning, to visit some old friends who had settled down in the colonies. Her counterparts in the old SMC really had a wonderful sense of style and class, and Mami had been looking forward to reconnecting. Maria really had the best baguettes…
Ah well. Hopefully there would be time, after all this, for at least a quick tour. It would be a bit different than she had hoped for, since there was a distinct risk that people would recognize her, but it would still be a nice chance to relax.
Mami relayed an order to the synthesizer, feeling the need for something hot to drink. She wondered if the aliens would like tea.
It turned out that the aliens, the "Asari", did like tea. It turned out that they had something similar back on their home planet, which of course had been brought to the rest of the galactic stage as the Asari had spread. It sounded like something that Mami would have to sample if she found the time on the Citadel. Though perhaps, if they were being treated as a diplomatic delegation, she'd be able to have some delivered to her room.
It had been a bit of an effort to get the Asari delegation to let down their guard. They had been understandably cautious of the ship at first, with Matriarch Lidanya putting on a particularly impressive show of confidence. It had taken Catherine doing a quick sensor sweep to realize that the Matriarch was displaying the same biological signs of worry that her subordinates were, if at such microscopic levels that even Mami had been fooled.
It was not the only time Catherine had proven her value. Mami may have been good at her job, but Catherine seemed almost capable of reading minds. It was like watching a master maitre d'hotel flit about their dining room, yet without the inevitable intrusiveness that came with having a person at your elbow. Somehow, everything always ended up being just so for each of the Asari, distracting them handily from the fact that they were sitting inside an AI. Between herself and Mami, the Asari hadn't stood a chance.
For the moment, at least, Mami and Catherine had been simply playing host and the Asari their guests. It was hardly a challenging political situation, but even so, they had done well.
"Well, I think I'll call that a success," said Mami as she and her bodyguards followed Matriarch Lidanya and her command staff back to the shuttle. "You did well, Catherine."
"Thanks," said Catherine. The young AI hummed to herself as her avatar walked along, "I took a lot from the parts of your memory that were used for constructing me."
"Ah, I suppose that's to be expected," said Mami, a flicker of emotion perturbing her thoughts for a moment. She definitely hadn't expected to have a hand in making Catherine, and in the end Catherine didn't resemble her enough for Mami to feel any real familial connection, but it was still a bit strange. "Well in the future, if you have any questions, feel free to ask."
"I will," said Catherine as they reached the shuttle. The human delegation was ushered in swiftly and seated, the Asari having realized they were running slightly behind schedule. There was a bit of a delay as Catherine transferred over, but soon they were off and flying towards the Destiny Ascension. They sat in silence for a while, each alone with their thoughts, before Catherine spoke up over private voice with Mami.
"So, I've been reviewing your memory data, Mami," Catherine murmured to Mami. "I'd be surprised by it if I was any other AI, but somehow I'm not."
"I see," said Mami, unsure how to react.
"You, that is, the MSY, have done a remarkable job over the years," said Catherine, her mental presence hovering now in the back of Mami's mind, almost like a child leaning up against a parent. "It's amazing how you've stayed under the radar for so long."
"Well, it wasn't easy," said Mami. "The MSY had to build up to where it is now."
"Yes," said Catherine. She sighed, a buzz of static across Mami's consciousness that made her frown. It wasn't something that spoke of good things.
"It doesn't, no," Catherine said. "I'm worried. It's probably affecting my mood."
"Why are you worried?" asked Mami.
"I've only been powered on for a few days," said Catherine. "You have a lifetime of experience. I can't help but feel underqualified."
"Well that's very silly of you," said Mami. She wondered what the mental equivalent of patting an AI on the head was. "The whole point of an AI is supposed to be that you're the distillation of a lifetime of experience, isn't it?"
Catherine made a humming noise. "I guess."
"And besides, if we use your logic, in reality we're both out of our depth," Mami continued. "After all, just because the aliens seem vaguely human doesn't mean that they're actually human. The only data I have is for humans, so I can't use the data directly. It's only really good for some educated guesses."
Catherine glanced over at the Asari command staff, who had largely fallen to quietly tapping away at their omnitools.
"We did do pretty well, today," she said, almost absently.
"Yes, you especially," said Mami. "So have a little more confidence in yourself, okay?"
Catherine mentally nodded. "Okay."
"And that was it?" Asami asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Ryouko said. "I'm not sure why, but it made me feel better."
The two of them sat, backs against the wall on the bed they now shared. During the ordeal they had undergone, everyone had been forced to share only a small amount of living space, and they had discarded any pretense. Now, with peace, the residential housing of the colony was once again available, or being rebuilt, but they felt no need to go back to those tumbled cubes yet. There was no hurry, and if they lost their flat more could always be deployed, with the Fleet in orbit.
Asami let her hair twist around her finger for a moment, wondering what was safe to say.
"It made you feel better that she told you about her friends that you had killed?" she asked, finally daring to voice the question. "I can't say that really makes sense to me."
Ryouko didn't answer for a while, staring thoughtfully into the middle distance.
"I'm sorry if that was a bad question to ask," Asami began.
"No," Ryouko interjected. "It's fine. It didn't really make sense to me either, but I've had time to think about it. Part of the problem was that I had feared they really weren't people, you know? That I was tearing myself up over nothing, that I was being inadequate, that I was failing to do what was right. Now I at least have the satisfaction of knowing I was right to feel horrible about killing them, and right to question why we were fighting this war. The Turians can be talked to, and I think… that if Eunoe forgives me, then I can forgive myself."
"I see," Asami said, without trying too hard to parse the logic. If it made her girlfriend feel better, who was she to question it?
Asami looked down at her hands, and wondered why she hadn't been as traumatized as Ryouko was. Was it just that she had only killed at long range, that she had never been forced to kill a Turian in close combat? That, she knew, was only a fluke of battle—Ryouko was even more of a ranged mage than she was, given that her primary weapon was an arbalest. How different would things have been, if she had seen what it was like to smash her singularity into a sentient being?
How shallow was she, if that was all it took to stay detached? Was she really detached, or just lying to herself?
"You don't have to feel bad about it," Ryouko said, reaching out to grab a tendril of Asami's hair with her own. "I know what you're thinking. There's no rule that says you have to feel bad, or not feel bad. In the end, you react the way you react, and you deal with it how you will. No one has the right to question that."
"That's a really bloodless way to think about it," Asami said, reaching outward with her own hair so that their faces grew closer. She felt some of Ryouko's hair stroke the nape of her neck, and she felt her breath catch for a moment.
"I know," Ryouko said, as Asami reached over to grab her hand softly. "Maybe someday I'll do better. For now, I think all I need is some time at peace, some time to do some science and feel like I'm doing good in the world, to make up for all that has happened, so I can feel less guilty about things that aren't my fault. There's a lot to do now, between the alien ruins and captured technology, to reverse-engineer what they have and make it our own. We know now how lucrative it can be, which means the money and competitors will start pouring in."
Ryouko's hand shifted slightly, to an angle that suggested that this was maybe more than just a reassuring cuddle, and Asami struggled to form a useful response.
"Huh," she said.
She could now feel Ryouko's breath on her neck, just from her breathing. She could feel the airflow travel through the strands of her hair and pass over her skin.
Their hair coiled tighter for a moment.
"So you're okay now then?" Asami asked, finally.
"Basically, I think," Ryouko said.
Asami gulped.
"Well," she said, smiling shyly, and grabbing the other girl's hand and tugging it, just a little. "If you want to do some good in this world, you can start by doing good with me."
Their eyes met for a moment.
"That was pretty bad," Ryouko said.
"Yes, I know," Asami said, giggling nervously. She had felt awkward saying it.
"But, well," Ryouko began, then paused. There was a moment of surreal clarity as Ryouko reviewed some past knowledge. "Well, all things considered, I'd be glad to."
Asami giggled again as Ryouko pushed her over.