Councilor David Anderson stood in the gallery, gazing at what two years of blood, sweat, and tears bore. Would it be enough? Would it save them from extinction? When he proposed building a space station that rivaled the Citadel, he expected Hackett to laugh him out of the room. Instead, the newly minted Admiral recognized the reapers for the galaxy-ending threat that they were, and enthusiastically agreed. That day felt longer than two years ago. And he stared, wide-eyed and dumbfounded at what they'd accomplished in that time, scarcely believing his own eyes. Perhaps it wasn't much, merely an embryo in comparison to what it was meant to be, but construction had begun. It was real. It was finally real.
The brainchild of the foremost salarian, human, and quarian technicians – the Nexus was a marvel of engineering. Its blue prints consisted of an eezo core, surrounded by a series of conical ellipses that branched out, forming a hexagonal lattice. The structure in its entirety would rotate in direct orbit with Etamis, while each ellipse rotated in retrograde with the planet's equatorial plane, using the centrifugal force to produce gravity within its walls. No need for artificial gravity wells. No power draw. A tubular shaft connected the individual ellipses, constructed with an aluminum-titanium alloy and designed to shuttle people back and forth. Upon completion, the Nexus would house millions of people – people whose sole purpose would be to survive the reaper invasion, an insurance policy against extinction if you will. Although, they still had the issue of sustainability to address, along with the fact that this project was in its infancy. Merely two outer shells had been constructed and they were a far cry from complete.
The SSV Einstein hovered above Etamis's dismal atmosphere, its ruddy haze penetrating the bay windows. A cheerless, haunting air. Life sprouting from old bones.
"That whole planet's a damn tomb." Kirrahe grumbled. "Gives me the fidgets."
Anderson startled a bit, having been lost in thought for the better part of an hour. "That's sort of the point. There are no viable planets in this system. Once we lose the mass relay, no one will even bother with this place."
"You talk as if that's a simple matter."
"A problem for another day." Anderson groaned. "This system's volatile enough that no one will be surprised, but I suppose it isn't a small problem, tossing a relay into a black hole. What I don't understand is how the council continues to deny anything's wrong. Look at Etamis, Bothros, hell you can walk through the ruins of Helyme and see we were not the first. It's absurd. You'd think something that's been around for a few millennia would be concerned about all these extinction events."
"You and Dalatrass Esheel will get along swimmingly. She's been vocal about studying planets like Joab and Bothros, saying that we need to ensure our fates are not intertwined with these vanishing empires. The council writes it off. Says they were probably overcome by trite issues, like dwindling resources or pollution."
"Even with the relays? That makes no sense."
"Politicians and sense never went paw in fin if you ask me."
"Well put Major." A high pitched voice answered. Within half a second, Kirrahe's composure changed immeasurably. He spun on his heel and bowed deeply as the dalatrass approached. "And you are Councilor Anderson? I've heard a bit about you from Valern." Her lips puckered at the end, as if his name left a bad taste.
"Not a fan, I take it?" Anderson replied, keeping his amusement under wraps.
She croaked, a shrill clicking sound that he deduced was a scoff. "A pity your protégé saved him. Valern is leading the Salarian Union down a sewage pipe. This project alone is ground breaking and he's content to sit on his cloaca dithering about with evolutionary research." Another scoff or croak or whatever. "I say let the yahg be. The last thing we need is another krogan rebellion."
"Well, I appreciate what you're doing here Dalatrass. And your discretion. Aside from myself, everyone who knows of this is restricted to the Schwarzschild System. Even the council is in the dark. There are no records. Nothing to lead the reapers here."
"As well it should be. Do not worry. The Major here briefed me. I have brought my first circle, along with fifty or so engineers. In total, one hundred and eighty salarians that are willing to eat, breathe, and dedicate their lives to this project." She turned to Kirrahe. "If you would escort them to their quarters? I believe most are living aboard the Alliance's vessels for the time being." The Major bowed deeply once more and left with the utmost haste, leaving Anderson to his internal struggle.
On the one hand, the Dalatrass was helping them immeasurably. With her political ties, they'd be receiving a surplus in desperately needed metals, construction workers trained in zero-g, and the insight of her entire clan. Yet, when she requested spots aboard the Nexus for her immediate family, he assumed she meant a couple dozen people. Politics were never his strong suit, and he cursed himself for not learning more about salarian society before brokering their deal. To be fair, he was busy single-handedly preparing for a galaxy-wide invasion, gathering an insurmountable amount of resources, and dodging assassins. That didn't leave much time.
She seemed to pick up on his shock. "Don't fret m'dear. They'll earn their keep, even the children. My clan is renowned for producing the sharpest and brightest minds after all."
"Not to be rude ma'am, but we are trying to maintain genetic diversity."
"Which is why I only brought my first family circle."
At the very least, the dalatrass's contribution should give him a leg up in negotiations with Rael'Zorah. The man had all but disappeared, an odd turn of events considering Anderson had fifty marines dedicated to the quarian's cause. All of whom were waiting to be deployed to geth space. He was scheduled to meet the Admiral on the QEC later that evening, and excused himself as gracefully as possible so he could prepare. Kirrahe had done him the favor of collecting an entire library's worth of information on quarian politics and culture. It was time he caught up.
Four hours and a mind-numbing amount of research later, he was face to face with the pixelated version of the Admiral, searching for answers. "I have the reinforcements you requested. Hell, they've been waiting two months for deployment. Human marines aren't known for their patience. What is taking so long?"
"The mission on Haestrom is suspended until further notice. Something has… come up."
"May I remind you," Anderson failed to keep his annoyance at bay. It filtered into every word. A mistake he came to regret. "That this mission was undertaken at the Admiralty Board's request. Fifty marines have been sitting around with their thumbs up their asses for over a month.. The supply strain alone has not been easy."
Rael's words were concise, stiff. A wave of barely contained fury. "I told you, it's out of my hands. I am working to rectify the issue, but for the time being, I'm stuck. And the rest is classified."
"Talk to me, Rael. This alliance only works so long as we're open with each other."
"Open?" The Admiral hissed. "You want to be open? Then explain how a human space station is capable of traveling through a relay! What are you up to out there? I've taken a lot on faith. And all I've asked is for you to wait around a couple months."
"And under normal circumstances, that would be fine. These are not normal circumstances. Every time we make a supply run, it's a risk. As for the space station, I've never even heard of such a thing. Nothing humanity has is that advanced."
"Cerberus is. And from what I hear, they're the Alliance's embarrassing little secret."
"Why don't you just tell me what's going on?"
"Why don't you just tell me what the hell your species has been up to!"
"Are you accusing me of something?"
They argued. Tempers flared. But it was clear that Rael'Zorah no longer trusted him, and their alliance dissolved before his eyes. Issue was, the techs sent by the Migrant Fleet could not be returned so easily. They knew what the Nexus was. They knew where it was. And they knew about Dalatrass Esheel. Anderson tried explaining this to the irate admiral, that he wasn't holding the quarians hostage, that they'd continue to be treated for who they are – valued members of a team – despite the unfortunate situation between the Alliance and the Quarian People. But the man was having none of it. In the end, all he could do was promise that their contributions would be honored, regardless of the political situation.
Something else was happening behind the scenes. He deduced that rather quickly. Rael'Zorah always had a temper, but it was a logical one. This man had been incensed with an uncontrollable rage. Something got in under his suit. Sent him off the deep end. After all, the quarians upheld their end of the bargain. They sent some of the brightest minds Anderson ever had the pleasure of meeting. This was time for the Alliance to do their part, and the Admiral pulled the plug before he could deliver. It didn't make sense.
Rael'Zorah slammed his fist into the com. Talking with Anderson was almost as irritating as Prazza's lackluster report. Marines were trained to soak up every detail, regardless of what's happening around them. Yet, Prazza'Dilan vas Tonbay's facts could scarcely fill a vacuseal. Wasted time. Wasted potential. The man was a suit-wetting idiot. He punched in the number for said idiot, only to have the call intercepted by Shala'Raan. Her voice crinkled with sleep. "Again Rael? Really? Let the man rest."
"I don't see how this is any of your business, Raan."
"You think I'm not worried either? But debriefing Prazza for the twelfth time isn't going to bring you any more answers. How did the meeting with the human councilor go?"
"Like hell. As far as I can tell, he doesn't know."
"Do you believe him?"
"Not for a minute." Truth be told, he had little experience with the human species. His grasp on their body language was paltry at best, not to mention their customs. Even their political machinations were alien to him. Perhaps the man was innocent. Perhaps he had no idea that his protégé was being cloned in some demented lab. But that was little comfort to a distressed father. "He won't even return the techs we sent him. Thirty of our best and brightest minds, lost to us."
"He did warn you. And he hardly strikes me as someone who would do them harm. Why don't you try to sleep? We'll look over Prazza's report in the morning with fresh eyes. We're not getting anywhere like this."
"My daughter is MIA! And you want me to sleep? I'll sleep when I'm dead or she's returned to her people, where she belongs." He hung up abruptly. Although, hitting the end call button was far from satisfying. He wanted something to slam, to break, to relay exactly how pissed off at the universe, and particularly the humans, he truly was.
Ever since his wife, Cene'Rilon, passed he threw himself deeper and deeper into his work. He wanted so much for Tali – a better existence, a decent lifespan, to not be held prisoner by a suit – and none of that was possible without retaking the homeworld. He always knew she had a childish crush on that human Shepard, a matter that his wife would have handled back in the day. But he didn't know what to do with a young, headstrong girl. She was just as stubborn as he was, and they clashed frequently as a result.
Was it his fault? He knew she was grieving, knew that heartache and anguish could lead a person to act out of character. But this? Who could have expected this? The message on his omni-screen flayed him open, left him raw and chafing under the suit.
Last known message sent From: Talizorah_vas_Neema
Addressed to: MindoirMaws2154
John,
Sometimes I miss you like an absent limb, other times I forget. Then I feel a little guilty for moving on. One of the guys in Prazza's squad asked me out. I couldn't stop comparing him to you and he fell short of the mark, to put it mildly. Everyone falls short when I hold them up to you.
Somehow you became my measure of a good man, even though we barely knew each other. There was so much more to you than your appalling reputation. You know, Garrus and I used to have chats about our concerns. Your anti-alien political leanings. How cold you were when we first came aboard. And then that whole incident with Talitha happened. I think we both got a different picture of Commander Shepard that day.
You came to trust us. You came to trust me. Could I really blame you, knowing what you had been through? Sometimes I speculate, was the Massacre of Mindoir the first time you ever saw an alien? No wonder you were so cautious. Never unreasonable. Just cautious.
Anyhow, I have to leave tomorrow. The one that was lost to you has become a good friend. And a person I intend to protect. No one is getting their hands on the last scrap I have of you. Not on my watch.
With all my love,
Tali
Self admonishment set in. A harsh, if deserved, mistress. You should have seen it. It was right in front of you. Why didn't you see it? How many times did you dismiss her? Tell her to just 'get over it' and move on? You left her nowhere to turn Rael. You nurtured her mind and instilled ambitions, but forgot to tend to her soul. And now she's gone. Could be dead for all you know.
He exed out the email and pulled up Prazza's report, combing over the details once more. Maybe he missed something. Anything. Give me anything. Give me my daughter back.
A/N: Anyone else screaming inside their head throughout all of ME3? I mean, we're immediately transported to the Citadel, a friggin' a reaper trap, without armor, guns or a getaway plan. That is so not Shepard. Vigil told us on Ilos that the reapers used the citadel to seize control of the relays! The protheans altered the keepers, not the citadel itself. Drives me insane
My Shepard was hollering like a madman the whole time, loading up evac shuttles, and kicking ass. Get packing or get crushed. And then none of them listen, they all die, and he's just like... whatever at that point. Saving fools from themselves is an impossible mission.
We're still so far from the Reaper War. But that's the story that walked into my head ten years ago. Jane existed before then, but only as a plot device, sometimes a convenient tool I used to explain how things changed when I balked and reloaded. She wasn't a whole person until ME3, and Garrus sort of dragged her to the forefront of my mind going 'this is my girl, save her.' To say more would reveal the first scene I wrote for this fic. So, you'll just have to wait … a few hundred thousand words if things go the way they have been. I may have a problem. It's called Mass Effect Addiction. Currently, I have 30+ tabs open, 12 OfficeLibre docs for drafts, 4 google docs for world building, it's 3 A.M., and I no longer fear god.
But anyway, I always felt terrible romancing Garrus or Tali as the other one ends up alone. The latter hits especially hard. We hear how lonely Tali is during the reaper war, how she comes to regret serving on a human ship during, what they assume to be, their final days. And I just want to cry, drag her up to my cabin, and watch chick flicks all night. But the game didn't let me do that, so here I am writing fanfic where she gets a boyfriend and, hopefully, a bestie.
Back to current events, technical details about the Nexus were researched a month or so ago. Whenever I wrote the chapter, Paragon Lost, as the Nexus was supposed to be revealed then in all its glory. But I needed the quarians to be apart of it, and it just didn't make sense for them to have progressed with construction so quickly.
If you're interested in the sources I used, check out the FAA's website. They have a lot of helpful PDFs that break things down nice and neat. If you want a direct link, AO3's version of this chapter as FFN doesn't allow such things.
That's where I read up on how to determine Classical Orbital Elements using position and velocity vectors and extrapolating that to the ME universe. I mean, none of this is possible with current technology but I used to do things like diff eqs and infinite series for fun. And I thought hey, I can do this. . . or at least try. I'm sure a real aerospace engineer would cry many a tear at this. (Or perhaps a physicist. I'm terrible at physics. Somewhere Feynman is rolling in his grave.) But I did my best. And it makes sense to me, provided that centrifugal force doesn't rip the poor organics apart. And unlike the ISS (International Space Station) it has an eezo core that keeps it from descending into the atmosphere. Go magical Mass Effect science!