Chapter 17: Watching Dogs


November 28th, 13:00, Thessia Sunrise Hotel (Temporary Terran Diplomatic Enclave):


Councilor Jones entered his room. "And be sure to get me the documents that I requested." He said turning to face the aid that was hanging around the doorframe.

"Yes Councilor, is there anything else?" The young man replied.

Pursing his lips the Federation Official went over a mental checklist. "Have the Hotel's staff sound up some refreshments, I have a busy day ahead of me. Having something to fuel me up would be nice." He said, hoping that they would send that spice tea he came to adore.

"Of course sir." The aid Replied. "I'll ask them to send a pitcher of that J'linn Spice Tea you seem to like so much."

Jones inwardly smiled to himself glad to have an aid as attentive as the young ghoul before him. "That will be all Mr. Evens, be on your way." He dismissed the aid. Moving away from the door he heard it slide shut. "Good man he is." Jones thought to himself. "Perhaps once we get back to Earth I'll see about giving him a reward." The Councilor was a firm believer that one should treat their underlings well, and that small tokens of apparition went a long way to secure their loyalty.

Entering the room that had become his makeshift office Jones sat down at his desk and powered up the terminal. Once it was on, he checked his message box for anything new. Sure enough, he had at least a dozen or so new messages all of them containing official seals. Most of them he noticed came from the members of his party, he would have to read over those later to see if had been any important announcements. A few others appeared to be progress reports from his staff back on the planet he represented on the Federation council. The rest appeared to be requests from other influential figures on his world. To sum up, it was what one would expect to see in a councilor's message box. He began to read each one.

Several minutes later he heard a chime. Not taking his eyes from the screen he responded. "Yes, who is it?"

"Room service, your J'linn tea is ready." Came a feminine voice over the coms.

"Good, you may enter. I'm in my office." He said glade his drink was here. Moments later as he began to read the next message an Asari entered the room. If he had to guess she was probably in the early years of her Matron stage. He had to admit that for an alien she was beautiful and alluring. He could see why a number of the local garrison had become interested in Asari.

"Your J'linn Spice tea Councilor Jones." She said in a warm and welcoming tone.

"Thank you miss just leave there on my desk." He said turning his eyes back to the terminal and continued to read.

"Of course Councilor." He heard her say, a moment later he hears the familiar clanking of a jar being set on the desk. "You seem like a very busy man."

"That I am miss?" He drawled out prompting the Matron for her name.

"L'Zai." She helpfully supplied. He saw her pour him a cup of the alien refreshment.

"Miss L'Zai," He said carefully to pronounce the name right. "As an elected member on the Federation Council, I have many responsibilities, and being here on the Citadel has not nullified me of them." While he did have the top priority of aiding the talks with the Citadel he was still expected to carry out all of the responsibilities that came with being a member of the Federation Council. That included being attendance for sessions of the Council even if it had to be in holo-form, good thing the Quantum Entangled Communicator that was installed in his office was more then up to the task. Though now the talks had concluded a week ago he would return to Earth soon enough where he could fully focus on those tasks.

"I can imagine." He heard her say and saw movement outside of his eye. He looks up to see that the Matron was now holding out a cup and plate to him. "You must not get much time to yourself."

With a thankful nod of his head, he takes the plate and cup. Firmly in his hands, he took the cup up to his mouth, and just before taking a sip, he allowed himself to enjoy the strange aroma of the alien tea. He took a small sip and enjoyed the warm taste of the tea. "I consider it time well spent." He said putting the cup and plate down. "But I will admit that I look forward to returning home."

He saw the Matron give him an understanding smile. "I think I can relate. I've been thinking about taking some time off and visiting Thessia. I have family there I haven't seen in seven years."

The Councilor arched an eyebrow, seven years was a long time to be out of contact with one's family. Then again the Asari do live for several centuries so seven years may seem more like a long season to them. "I can understand your desire to see family after a long time." He said. Now that he thought it about he hasn't contacted his parents in some time, something to think about when he got back to Earth.

"Just some plans I have in mind. Nothing concrete yet." She said in a casual tone. "Is there anything else you need?" She said switching back to a formal tone.

"No, not right now." He answered. "But I will have my staff notify you if there is anything."

He saw the Asari smile again. "Of course sir. Please don't hesitate, we of the Thessia Sunrise pride ourselves for our service." She said before leaving the room.

"Nice lady, wonder if she's supposed to be a spy." They did warn him that the Citadel may attempt to gather information on the Federation through more discrete methods. The possibility that they would use the guise of the hotel staff to spy on them had been considered to be very likely. Goyle had been explicit in her orders that they be careful of what they said and did around the Hotel staff and that none of them entered the reserved floors without being watched. Overly Paranoid? Perhaps, but it did prevent leaks. He had kept a close eye on the Asari staff member trying to gage her motive. "Probably not, best not to give in to much paranoia."

He got from his desk and poke his head out of his office. He looked around the living area making certain that the Asari had left and was not digging around. Satisfied that the room was cleared he returned to his desk. A new message had appeared in the brief moment he left. He opens it. It was very small containing only time and date and one line of words.

I wish to speak to you, Mister Jones.

~TIM

It seemed he had an important appointment in eleven hours. He deleted the message.


November 28th 18:47, Mactare System, Taetrus:


Castis Vakarian had to wonder for what seemed like the thirtieth time today what deity was pissed off at him. He started asking that question soon after the disaster in the Mingaki system, the Hierarchy's, and by extension the Citadel's first horrific encounter with the Dragon Orphans, back then referred to so creatively as the 427s. Back then when he had made his report of his horrifying encounter, his superiors were hard-pressed to believe him. Fleshing eat monsters that could tear through armor? Organic starships that swarmed and ripped fully operational Turian warships to shreds? The Batarian Hegemony obliterated in what seemed like an instant? Some of them even look ready to have him go through a second round of psychiatric checks. But there was no denying the numerous reports from the other survivors, the sensor logs of the Light of Palavan, and the records recovered from the Batarian station that all supported his story.

Not long after the Hierarchy had taken his recommendation to heart and reinforced the borders against a future attack. For what good that did, the comparatively meager defenses had been swept aside like pebbles before a storm and the monsters had breached deep into Citadel space. For two years he had led his men into battle against the D-Orphans and been a part of countless retreats that continued to chip at Hierarchy Morale. His unite had been destroyed and reformed more times then he cared to count, of the eleven other survivors from that ill-fated mission only four of them remained alive, one had outright resigned, another was in no condition to serve ever again, the other two remained with him and now served as his second and third.

Castis for his part had wanted to resign his commission and return to Palavan to be with his family. He was convinced otherwise by some old friends on the grounds that his "experience" with the monsters would be useful to the Hierarchy. A half-baked explanation; a phrase he learned from the Terrans if he ever heard one. Yet it seemed to hold some truth in the eyes of the universe as his unit the 163rd Battalion, despite suffering numerous near destructions had fared better against the enemy than most other forces in the Hierarchy, even had a fair number of "victories" under its belt against them. Incidentally, the Light of Palavan the only surviving ship from the battle near the damned station had become something of a minor legend as it saw numerous battles against the Dragon Orphans and lived to tell the tale.

Even when the forces of the Citadel were starting to have some form of success fighting the sprit's forsaken monsters the war was still going badly for them. The battle for Taetrus was no exception, contrary to the Hierarchy's efforts to defend the historic world they were still unable to push back what appeared to be one of the largest attacking forces from the enemy. For all of their effort, the defending fleet had been forced into a fighting retreat. Worse they had been forced to leave behind the defenders on the planets surface, his battalion included.

With no orbital support and the enemy literal raining down on them, Castis had been all but certain that he would die that day. Death was a reality that all Turian soldiers had been told could happen and had been prepared for. Dying in the line of duty was considered to be a great honor for the Hierarchy and for a time Castis believed it as well. Then the war happened and he saw what dying truly meant the cost it reaped. He had seen too many names on the casualty board, written to many letters telling families and friends that they would never see their loved ones, he had seen too many heartbreaks. Castis Vakarian did not fear death, but what he did fear was the impact it would have on his family. His son Garrus would grow up never knowing the father that loved him dearly, only knowing the stories that his heartbroken mother would tell him. The thought of that happening would leave him up at night and would haunt his dreams.

As a soldier in the Hierarchy, he was ready for that possibility, he even had had a pre-recorded message ready in event that he did die. Yet as the hordes of monsters swarmed towards his position with death being a certainty he realized that no-one was ever prepared to die. It was with this dawning realization that a miracle happened. Just as his battalion's position was about to be overrun hellfire had rained down on the enemy decimating their ranks. The Terrans had joined the war.

"Their timing couldn't be better and what an entrance it was." The thought entered his mind as he gazed around his command center. The small army that was his command staff was an odd mix of both Terrans and Turian, there were a couple of Asari and a Salarians in the mix as well, at present they were running around fulfilling various duties. He still remembers the day vividly, one moment he had been knee-deep in a horde of monsters the next he took part of a counteroffensive that saw the city secured within hours, what had been a near defeat had been turned into one of their first major wins in the war. That night his men had celebrated like the spirits themselves had come.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A familiar voice had asked him. He turned to the source, seeing a Terran Female, a ghoul. Even now having fought along-side the woman and others like her, he was still found uncomfortable around such individuals that could kill him in an instant. Like any other, he had heard rumors of "demons" appearing on worlds that had been invaded by the D-Orphans and worlds close by. Fleshing eating creatures that took the appearance of the average citizen, they could be the guy fighting next to you, the kind old lady down the street, or even your spouse. Monsters that could grow extra limbs to tear their unlucky prey apart. At first, being the rational individual he was, he had written them off as being fear-induced paranoias from the frightened populace. Then he received the confirmation of their existence from his superiors and the kill order on them. Even then he had not fully believed in their existence until he had seen one with his own eyes and had been forced to call an artillery strike on his former subordinate. He was glad that not all of the "demons" were the monsters that people believed them to be.

"Nothing much Commander Sanders." He spoke to the woman who acted as his advisor and second in command of their combined forces. "Just wondering what deity is taking its angry out on me and reminiscing."

He saw the woman's expression soften into one of mirth, and hard a small chuckle from her. "I know the feeling." She said turning to face the holo projection of the city. "If you ever find out please feel free to tell me. That way we can both get to work on appeasing it."

Castis let a small chuckle out at the woman's attempt at humor. In recent years he learned that a little humor went a long way to ease tension and boost morale. "Looks like we took a serious hit from that last battle." He said his attention fully returning to the situation on hand.

"That we did." The Terran Commander spoke with tiredness in her voice. "It didn't help that the D-Orphans decided to be cheeky bastards on this one." Her gaze turned to the shattered set of windows on the upper area of the command post. Dozens of bodies sprawled the area both friendly and not-so-friendly. Cheeky didn't begin to describe it. Hours ago the Dragon Orphans launched a major offensive into the city that saw their forces take several blocks before being stopped and slowly be pushed back. Nothing much out of the ordinary for them and become a morbid routine for them. Defend, retreat, defend, retreat, defend, stop the enemy offensive and push back with a counteroffensive, then conduct clean up. Rinse and repeat, and you had the last few months in the fight for the planet. Was it annoying as hell and taxing on moral? Most certainly, but it was in the opinion of Castis and about ninety percent of Citadel forces, leagues better then what they been doing before which was just retreating. The other ten percent were crazy and their opinion didn't matter.

This attack looked to be no different, though it did have a few hiccups in that they were still dealing with survivors from previous attacks. Still, nothing that their forces couldn't handle, and Castis had been confident that by the end of the day the enemy would have been driven out. That confidence died a swift and painful death when the enemy came crashing in the windows. For several minutes he and the rest of his staff had found themselves in pitch battle for the command center, a battle that they thankfully won.

"Though if it hadn't been for Commander Sander I am certain I would be communing with the spirits right now." Never had he seen someone turn the tide of a fight like the way she did. Seeing her in action had driven home that Ghouls were an incredible asset to have in a fight. "And they have hundreds of billions of them on their side. Thank the spirits that the Terrans are on our side." He shuddered to think what a war against them would mean for the Citadel.

After securing the command center it quickly became apparent that same had happened at other command posts across the city and temporally caused confusion in their forces on front lines. In the confusion, the Dragon Orphans launch a second offensive that for a time saw allied forces being pushed back at a rapid pace. Fortunately for most of the other command posts were able to repel the surprise attack, though some would require additional resources to reclaim. In a matter of minutes, they were able to re-establish a line of communication with all of their forces and coordinate an effective defense against the assault. That was several hours ago and only now did the battle now resembled a victory in their favor. There was still a considerable enemy presence in the city but was contained and was slowly being pushed back.

"Speaking of cheeky," Castis spoke after a long second, using her terminology. "I didn't get to ask between the fight for our lives and having to coordinate a hasty defense of the city, but what," He pointed to the broken windows. "was that?" He finished the question calmly.

The Terran commander looked at him with eyes that told him how tired she was and yet portrayed the intelligence behind them. "If I had to hazard a guess," She began to say. "Stealth Fliers dropping attack forces on us."

"Stealth Fliers?" Castis mouthed. "There stealth variants of those things?" The thought did not sit well with him, if there were Dragon Orphans that could avoid detection then it would be a nightmare on a Tactical and strategic level.

"Yes stealth fliers," Commander Sanders confirmed. "Nasty little buggers, their skin is made from a material that enables them to camouflage themselves and avoid detection on our radars. Records say that they were an ever-present thorn in our sides during the Third Dragon War. What we saw here today was just one of the many tricks they pulled during the war. Good news when compared to their brethren their rare, speculation is that they are harder to grow than others."

Castis felt himself relax a small bit at the news they were a rare variety, though not by much as there was no guarantee that they got them all today. If he was betting man he would put his money on the possibility that the Dragon Orphans at best only used half of their stealth fliers for the assault. "Are there any other stealth variants that I should be aware of?" He made a mental note to go on the Terran Codex on the D-Orphans again, with an emphasis on the different types of Dragon Orphans. "Is there a way to detect them?" He added as the thought occurred to him.

"There are other variants, but they are all offshoots of your standard Dragon Orphans. Such as the rank and file D-Orphan, spikers, and stalkers. Thank the good lord and any other deity out there, that stealth brutes and their related offshoots don't exist. The thought of that legitimately gives me nightmares." Well, he had to be thankful for small miracles. "As for detecting them," The Terran commander brought a hand to her chin, Vakarian had learned it to be the Terran gesture for when they were in deep thought. "I may be remembering this incorrectly. But I do recall mentions of specialize equipment that could detect the stealth variants of Dragon Orphans. I'll have to check our records, but if they do exist I'll see about putting in a requisition for some to be allocated to our front." Commanders moved to a terminal and brought up a display. "For now though we will have to be extra vigilant, there's no telling if the enemy pulls the same stunt twice."

Commander Vakarian nodded his head in approval of her recommendation. "You do that Commander Sanders. In the meantime, I will be in my office making a report to planetary command. They'll need to know about this development. If something happens inform me right away." He commanded.

"Yes, sir." Commander Sanders said not taking her eyes off of the Terminal.

"Then I leave command in your capable hands." He said with a salute, the Terran turned around reciprocated the gesture with a salute of her own. Breaking the salute Commander Castis Vakarian left the center making his way to his office, a report of today's events forming in his mind.


November 28th 19:15, Mactare, Occupied city on Taetrus:


"Aww, phewy. My plan didn't quite work the way I wanted it." Said a figure its voice distantly feminine.

She rose from her blood-red thorn and stretched out riding herself of any discomfort. "Seems like I'll have to come up with something different if I want to seize those territories." If anyone was to be in the chamber with her before they were torn to shreds by the monsters that guarded her they would see a beautiful woman with milky skin and long golden hair that went down to her exposed waist. Most notably were her blacken eyes with red iris and the red streaks of kagune like skin that went down her arms, legs, and sides of her naked body. A Terran would have recognized her as a full-fledged Dragon General. This being who had taken the name of Larkin was the commanding force of all Dragon Orphans on the Turian world. While she did possess the same aggression has her brothers and sisters, Larkin preferred to fight the others and their progenitor allies with tactics that didn't just amount to throwing overwhelming numbers at them. She wasn't above using it and was more than willing to take the heavy losses that it would occur, certainly she had the numbers to make it work. She just knew that it would not get her anywhere anytime soon. The prey, particularly the progenitors knew how to fight their overwhelming numbers and could hold out for an extended time against them.

She has to be a bit smarter and creative with how she used her swarm to take this world. "Perhaps I could use Tunnellers to dig under their nests and attack them from below." Attacks from unexpected angles did seem to be effective against the enemy if today was anything to go by. If she had used more of her sky shadows for the assault then they might have taken the nest. Now they would be expecting attacks from the sky and maybe from below. That would render her tunneller idea mute, she would have to think about it some more.

She saw something approaching her out of her eye. Gazing at it she saw it was one of her swarm. The creature stopped in front of her and offered something out of its claws. Looking down she saw it was a freshly torn off arm from one of the bird things, Turians was what they called themselves. She sent a smile at the thing and took the arm. "Why think you, how thoughtful of you." She said petting the thing on its head received a happy moan form the creature. Most of her brothers and sisters, others like her that could command the lessers and think in ways like the progenitors, they would not approve of her display of affection. To them, it was a sign of weakness, and weakness was not to be tolerated by the swarm. As such most Dragon Generals, a name given to them by their hated enemy but one they took with pride, ignored their lessers and treated them like mindless tools, a rare few even tended to be abusive. Larkin does not subscribe to those beliefs, she preferred to treaty her lessers like they were her flesh and blood, though that did not stop her from sending them to their deaths in droves when she thought on the irony.

She took a bite from the arm appreciating the strange taste it had in her mouth. Her thoughts returned to the battle for this world. The larger nests would be difficult to take if not impossible, they had the largest concentration of defenders and would be well fortified against large and extended sieges. But the lesser ones were not so, and even ignored in favor of the larger ones. Yes, that cold work. Start attacking the smaller nests with larger forces and enemy would have the difficult decision of sending reinforcements to drive them back but in the process weaken their defense of the larger nest or do nothing and risk her forces gaining more points to attack from. Granted it would spread her swarm out more and make them less able to defend their territories, but she had numbers on her side and could afford to spread them out. "But only for so long. Even the swarm as its limits." Larkin thought keenly aware that one of the weaknesses of the swarm was that they had a habit of overstretching themselves.

A weakness that the progenitors were more than happy to take advantage of. It was one of the contributing factors that cost them to lose the war for the great cradle. They may be able to multiply their numbers at a rate that far exceeds their preys, even they could spread out to fast and left vulnerable to attack. Even now it was costing them, the others they had fought the ones that had four eyes their lands were smaller than the ones they were trying to take now, they were easier to overwhelm and their defenders lacked the will to fight the swarm. What they faced now were warriors that had the strength and will to fight them back and many more resources to call upon. It was true that were driving the others back deeper and deeper into their territories, it was to be expected the swarm was an overwhelming force. A force of nature even. The others at first did not expect a foe like them and had little knowledge in fighting them.

That progressively changed with each passing day. The others had learned from each battle they had with the swarm, they had observed them, gained insights into the swarm's behavior. Through trial and error often with the price of much blood they had learned how to fight the swarm. With each passing day with each world they took, it became harder and harder to drive them out. More void sailors were lost for every world, more warriors cut down for every grain of dust they took. Their advance had been slowed and what once looked to be an assured victory was now in question. Then the Progenitors arrived and their offensive came to a violent halt. Now the swarm found itself in a precarious position, one that could mean their end.

It could not be denied that the swarmed outnumber their prey by several leagues, but what were they to do if just one defender could kill a hundred of the swarm? What they needed was a thousand more, perhaps even ten thousand more. Larkin feared that they did not have those kinds of numbers on their side.

She returned to her throne and sat. Thinking this over she was starting to grasp the reality of the conclusion she had come to some time ago. As the progenitors would put it in their speak, they needed to settle for the long haul if they wish to win the war. They had to hold the line long enough for them to grow their numbers to the point where they could do the same. It would not sit well with her brothers and sisters as they would be eager to spill the blood of their prey especially if that blood belonged to the progenitors, even she didn't like the idea. "This will not be an easy affair." She said aloud. Then there was the fact that the enemy would be doing the same, building their strength while they held back the swarm. Nor would they sit idly by as the swarm gained strength, it had been proven before that the prey could slip into the shadows and strike at them where they were vulnerable.

She looked up the ceiling of her chamber her thoughts wandering to all of the different possibilities. Unlike the others who were so self-assured that prey stood no chance against them, she doubts their ability to win the war. She feared that defeat and outcomes that came with it were a very real possibility. She could never voice her concerns to her brothers and sisters as they would refuse to listen and would even try to tear her limb from limb for "showing weakness".

"We should have waited as the king had said. Grown our numbers enough to darken skies of all of their worlds." She closed her eyes and took a breath. For now, she would have settle for her plan. She even considered having a few of her commanders lead the assaults.


November 29th, 00:00, Thessia Sunrise Hotel (Temporary Terran Diplomatic Enclave):


Councilor Jones checked his watch to make certain that the time was right. At this time most everyone should be sleeping. He imagines that Ambassador Goyle was in her room reading over important documents and making changes to their strategies. There was little chance of anyone walking in on him. But caution particularly in moments like was not to be ignored, before locking his office he searches his room thoroughly for any listening devices that may have been planted by agents of the Citadel. Even after locking the door to his office behind him, he had used a device that in theory would prevent eavesdropping from outside parties, such devices had been handed to the Diplomatic party in the event they wanted a private conversation without fear of anyone listening in.

Seeing that the appointed time had come he activated the QEC in his office, checking that his end was secured he waited. His wait was short as blue particles appeared and formed into the image of a man sitting in a chair, he was smoking a cigar.

"Mr. Jones, glade you could make it." The Illusive Man said. He had met the man a couple of months after the Battle for Shanxi. It wasn't a face to face conversation, rather it was over a communication link much like their encounter here. No matter how he tried he had never managed to trace the signal back to its origin or even evidence that it ever happened, both perplexing and disturbing. In that talk and the ones to follow he learned of Cerberus, an organization in words of the Illusive Man "is dedicated to protection and security of the Terran people. Our job is to ensure the dominance of the Federation over the rest of the galaxy and beyond in the fields of military, technology, politics, and other fields." A supremacist group that views the children of Earth as the greatest of the races. A notion that his views fell in line with.

He kept his beliefs hidden as they would prove to be disadvantageous to his political career in the current climate. There was a lot of support for xenophile policies and anyone who went against them were ignored or derided as "Xenophobic bigots". Then there was the war against the Dragon Orphans to take into account. Anyone that spoke out against was immediately labeled as a traitor by the general populace, and for someone like him, it was tantamount to political suicide. Not that he wanted to, like any Terran he been taught from a young age of horrors that were the second and third Dragon wars, the countless atrocities that been commented by their worst enemy. He had once visited the shattered remnant of Cadia, seeing firsthand the destruction that the creatures had wrought. He remembered the black sphere that hangs in its center, a memorial to the fallen that had been placed there, etched into its darken surface were names of everyone that fell in the two wars against the Dragon Orphans, the names of the native Cadians that perished being written in red, it was a haunting reminder of the blood that had been spilled for the survival of the Terran people. Hatred for the Dragon Orphans is what would keep the Federation in the war, a hatred he shared.

Suffice it to say he would not be making any moves. In several years once the euphoria over the discovery of intelligent alien life had passed, allowing for people to come to their senses and once the threat of the Dragon Orphans had been eradicated he would shift his support to policies that would advance Terran dominance over the Xenos. He had thought that he hid his views well that no one suspected his Xenophobic ideas, his encounter with the Illusive Man changed that. It did not take long for him to agree to work with the young and yet frightfully powerful group.

"It is good to see you too, sir." He said with a smile. "I am surprised that you contact me and not one of your agents." It was true since his recruitment he had reported to the man through intermediaries and rarely the same person.

TIM removed the cigar from his mouth, a stream of smoke blowing out. "I occasionally like to talk to my people in person." He spoke. "It's a good way to show that I not some distant leader sitting upon a high throne unaware of the inner workings of his organization." He returned the cigar to his mouth taking a puff, before removing it and blowing out smoke. "It also prevents misunderstandings as messages sent by intermediaries can sometimes become muddled."

"I see," Jones said not fully understanding what the man was getting at.

He saw the figure give him a dismissive wave of his hand. "Do not worry about Mr. Jones, all I want for today is your report and simply wished to hear it from you."

Jones nodded in understanding. "Of course sir. As you may have already gathered from the news the negotiations of the Citadel concluded a couple of weeks ago. While I would have preferred a deal that favored the Federation more than the Xenos, I happy to say that what we do have is good."

"I agree with you Councilor," TIM said putting his cigar into what Jones assumed to be an ashtray. "While the Ambassador could have fought harder for a more favorable agreement we will have to do with what we have. And what we have, I'm glad to say is a good step towards the goal of Terran dominance. Our sovereignty as a nation has been recognized by the Citadel Races, a trade deal that both parties can benefit from, and of course most importantly at the moment a military alliance against the Dragon Orphans. Overall I am quite pleased with the outcome, Ambassador Goyle deserves to be commended for her contribution to the Terran people."

Jones felt a slither of jealously at the women for the praise she was receiving from TIM. He worked just as hard as she did on the talks with the Xenos. "She did have help with the effort." He commented.

He saw the suited man arch an eyebrow and gave him a calculated look. For a moment it seemed like the man was staring into his soul, it took all of Jones's self-control not to squirm under the man's gaze. "Of course you deserve to be acknowledged for your aid in the negotiations with the Citadel," TIM said a moment later, allowing Jones to relax on the inside if only a little. That was something about this mysterious man that made him nervous and always on guard. A feeling that was reinforced whenever he tried to find information on the man, the sheer lack of evidence on the leader of Cerberus disturbed him to no end. What kind of resources did this man have access to have so thoroughly erased all traces of his existence? What kind of resources could he employ to make the Councilor disappear should he ever think of betraying Cerberus? It was these thoughts that kept Jones from exposing the rouge organization. To think that Cerberus just beginning and already it was operating with an efficiency that surpassed the FSS, he shuddered to think what it could do in ten years or even a hundred.

"Think you, sir," Jones responded. "What we do is for the benefit of the Federation and its people. But I assume you want to hear more than just the details of the negotiations?"

"How astute of you Mr. Jones," TIM said casually. "If I wanted that kind of information I could have just looked to the media agencies or had one of my people request a copy of the treaty from the Information Bureau. No, what I want is your assessment of select individuals within the ranks of the Citadel races."

"Select individuals?" Jones asked for clarification.

"High ranking officials that might be partial to Terran interest, or could be manipulated into taking actions that would be favorable to the Federation." The Illusive Man explained. "Or individuals that may prove to be detrimental to the future of Terran people. People whom we may need to take precautionary measures against. Like that former Salarian Councilor for example. What can you tell me about him, and what do you think of his replacement?"

Jones thought over the encounters he had with the unpleasant Salarian both had the negotiation table and in person, the latter being blissfully rare. He also took into account what he heard of the man from the different Xenos he had encountered and how the other Councilors interacted with him. The same going for his replacement. "My impression on the former Councilor Toss is that he is a potential enemy, who if given the chance would enact and support policies that would be damaging to the United Terran Federation. From the very beginning, he did little to hide his distaste for our people when he questioned our motive for entering the war." That moment when he tried to provoke the President still brought flashes of anger to the man when he thought of it. "Further he seems to have a not so hidden dislike for Ghouls and Synths. He most likely believes them to be a threat to be eradicated, and thinks of us as recklessly dangerous species that needs to be brought to heel." An outcome about as likely as making peace with the Dragon Orphans, the Terran people would never give up their freedoms. If the races of the Citadel did try to pull a stunt like that they would quickly learn the Federation and its people would fight for every inch of their space and make them pay a bloody toll for it. "Throughout the rest of the negotiations up until his replacement he continued to show signs of hostility towards the Diplomatic party. He often caused the process to drag out by bringing up unreasonable demands or questioned ours. Though towards the end he did became uncharacteristically subdue and showed no further signs of hostility. If I had to guess pressure from his colleges on the council and the Dalatrass of the Union forced him into that state. To sum up he as shown nothing but hostility towards the Federation and would never take actions that would favor us."

"I see," Tim responded as he seemed to think over what Jones said about the former Salarian Councilor. "Do you believe that he could prove to be a threat later in the future? Do we need to arrange an accident?"

While Jones would be more than happy to say yes, his rational side thought otherwise. "I do not believe so at best he'll be a loud but minor nuisance. Additionally, he has proven to be widely disliked by the general population of the Citadel and earned the animosity of several influential groups due to his public dislike of the other races. While he does have a position of power on Sur'Kesh is a low ranking one and likely there for just show. If we ever do have to arrange something we will doubtless find no shortage of people happy to carry out the deed nor will he be missed."

"Good to hear," TIM said. "One less problem to concern ourselves with. Though we will still keep an eye on him. Better to watch him and have him not be a threat than let him go and have him become a throne in our sides. Now for his replacement. What I hear she spends a considerable amount of time with the ambassador. What do you make of it?"

"Councilor Hutow is still something of a mystery to me," Jones admitted feeling embarrassed he had not paid as much attention to the Salarian councilor as much as he should. "Based on what I have seen though she is more level headed than her predecessor. If she does have any dislike towards the Federation and its people she is hiding it very well. This appears to be in line with the changes in the Union." It had been an unexpected change but not an unwelcome one. Outspoken opponents of the Terran Federation had either gone silent or had been replaced. The Union itself had begun to outreach to officials in the Federation in positive ways. Though most Salarians still held rather icy attitudes towards Terrans, couldn't win them all. "Aside from this, she has struck up an odd friendship with the ambassador. If it is a genuine gesture or she has a deeper motive remains to be seen. But I would not be surprised if the latter is true." He would expect the same from a Terran, so he did not hold Xenos to be above reproach. "In my opinion, I believe that we should allow this friendship to continue. While the Salarian Councilor may be trying to gain our trust and by extension learn of our secrets, it does not mean that we can do the same to her."

He saw the Illusive Man give him a calculating look. "Do you believe that she can be convinced to become, oh perhaps not a friend," TIM said searching for the right word. "Partner to the Federation. Perhaps even work with patriotic groups."

Jones read in between the lines, and he didn't like what he saw. Cerberus was supposed to be an all Terran group and dedicated to Terran supremacy. "I cannot say," Jones responded carefully. "We do not know enough about her to say for certain. But In my own opinion, I would urge against it."

"I see," TIM said considering the man's words. "Perhaps you are right. Cerberus is still young and we may need allies outside of the Federation, but we cannot take risks." He said.

"Illusive Man if may be so bold to ask you something?" He said thinking carefully about how he would phrase his questions. The man looked at seemingly considering his request. Then he made a gesture that told Jones to continue. "Why are we willing to work with the aliens? Is Cerberus not dedicated to the supremacy of the Terran people? So why would you be willing to allow Non-Terrans to work with us? Moreover, throughout the entire process, you seemed to be in support of the talks with the Citadel. You even said that you were satisfied with the outcome. Does this not seem like we are bending the knee to the Citadel and thereby jeopardizing our future as a species? Would a military conquest not be easier and safer after the Dragon Orphans have been dealt with?" In truth, he knew the position that the Federation found itself in. They did not have the resources, manpower, time, or even the will to commit to a galaxy-wide conquest. What he wants from his line of questioning was to gauge the reaction of the man before him. See what he truly was getting himself into. Would Cerberus turn out to be the guard dogs the Federation needed, or would be a wild muted that would lash out at everything including the very thing it was supposed to protect and would inevitably be put down.

For a moment the Illusive appeared to be surprised by his line of questions and appeared to think them over. Then he reaches for his cigar, lighting it he brought the object to his mouth. Seconds after he removed it and blow out a puff of smoke. "Mr. Jones," He began and the Federation Councilor braced himself. "I admire your dedication to the Terran people. No doubt in the future when the Terran people have taken their rightful place in the galaxy you will be remembered fondly as a patriot. But that future will not come overnight. We will not win the galaxy with the might of our fleets. Yes, they will be used to farther our interest but they are but one tool at the Federation's disposal. While to some war may be a viable option, history as shown that it would make us more enemies we can realistically hand. We can take each of the Citadel races alone, but all together we find ourselves falling short. But with peace we find ourselves having many more options. Economically, Culturally, technologically and the fields of diplomacy we can slowly erode the other races away and step by step gain control of the galaxy. By the time the general populace realizes what has happened, they find themselves under our rule, and will not be able to do anything about it. Nor will they be inclined to, so as long as the everyday man and woman can go about their day and their basic needs met they will not have a reason want to rebel. They will see the Terrans can rule with a firm but gentle hand, and just behind it will be an iron glove ready to come down on them should the need arise. The galaxy will be ours, we must be patient about it and above all else be willing to acknowledge that the aliens will have their place in our empire. What kind of place that will be remains to be seen, but one thing will be for certain they will never be the superiors of the Terrans, nor will they be the equals. Some may come close but never truly our equals. Look no further than the Quarians they are well on their way to becoming valued allies of the Terran people. They may not see it yet but within a few short generations they will loyal servants of the United Terran Federation."

"A client race," Jones interjected.

TIM nod at him. "Though I would not use that term but yes. To win the Galaxy for the Children of Earth we must be willing to play the long game."

"By the Long Game, you mean centuries and millennia, taking into account the life spans of the Asari?" Jones pointed out. To him the Asari where the biggest threat to the Federation, with their incredible lifespans they could lay down plans that could span a time period that the Terran mind, human and ghoul alike, could not comprehend let alone counter.

"And that is where our Synthetic brothers and sisters come in." TIM replied, "They will provide us the ability to enact plans that can go beyond even what an Asari can think of. Now is there anything else that concerns you?"

Jones shook his head, what the mysterious man said was enough to satisfy him. Some of it was still uncomfortable to him but he accepts that so as long as the Terran people came out on top. "No sir that was all I wanted to know." He would throw his lot in with this man as he seemed to have the right idea on what Cerberus needed to do.

"Getting back to the report. Tell me what do you think of the Turian Councilor?"


November 29th, 00:45, unknown location:


Harper disposed of his Cigar as the holo image of Councilor Jones disappeared. The man had provided some interesting insights into the political climate of the Galaxy and how it could affect the Federation. True he could have asked for a written report or have one of his intermediaries handle the matter. But now and then he liked to handle such matters personally. Reports and third parties where usefully but often certain meanings were lost in translation. By having a face to face meetings he could read the person's body language and hear the way they spoke to discern any hidden meanings they had, feelings they were trying to convey or hid.

Jones was a nice example of that. Through the conversation he could that the man was still uncomfortable working with Cerberus but was willing to work with them. Their talk about some of their methods namely concerning with Xenos seemed to alleviate his concerns. Harper knows the man held Xenophobic views, nothing in the extremes otherwise he would never have approached him. The idea of enslaving or destroying all other alien races did have a nice ring to it, for all of three seconds once the reality of what that meant set in. No, as he said the Xenos would have their place in Terran dominate Galaxy. His job would be to ensure that future use every means and tool at his disposal.

Cerberus was still young but already they had eyes and ears everywhere and were carrying out operations across the Federation to protect Terran interest. False flag companies were being set to provide the shadow organization with all of the funds it needs. Getting a foothold into Citadel space was still being worked on but Harper was confident that they have cells operating with impunity within a year or two. A list of candidates of informants and sleepers agents within the Citadel was already being drawn and need only be approved by him.

He took out a fresh Cigar and lit it. "Tartarus." He spoke to his Synth counterpart. "get in contact with Operation Shadow Break."