Chapter 23. Fallout
22. May 2390 AD, Cronos Station
"What about you? You outrank me," the man sighed.
"You've got seniority over me and I'm technically no longer part of Section 13, more like a honorary member," the other one spoke.
"What about Scarecrow? He's been at it longer than either of us and he's still active duty, no honorary member."
"He's tied down with his other duties. Supervising a new agent is always a handful but I don't have to tell you that," the other member of the conversation said as he lit up a cigarette, the orange glow standing in contrast with the artificial blue eyes above it.
"I've got my hands full as well," the man reasoned.
"So do I," Harper replied. "Like it or not, until someone else is appointed, you're the one in charge. I didn't make the rules but I certainly approve of the one they picked," the man argued as Tao Rei himself frowned. The recent death of the previous director meant that the organisation's protocols for emergency succession would step in, leading to a series of factors, among them availability, seniority, rank and area of expertise, being used to determine who was next in line to lead the HSAIS's Section 13 of the Bureau for Field Work. As things were he had recently been notified that it was in fact his responsibility.
"We both know that Section 13 will need a leader with our perspective," his former partner added.
"Our perspective?" Tao asked as he waved away some of the smoke that had made its way towards him.
"We're the only humans alive to have ever witnessed these things in action," Harper replied as he looked at the sleek design encountered during his encounter in 2379 and Tao's in 2388 respectively. "We've seen just what's in store for us some time down the line."
The agent, now pressed into a situation in which he would have to step up to a position he never really wanted to have in the first place, sighed, Jack had a point. The 'Leviathan of Dis' had tossed a very disturbing theory into the field. A theory fueled by an unknown contact within the salarian STG, a contact he had been ordered to track down but hadn't found as of now.
"A word of advice," the man sitting in the chair told him as he inhaled more smoke. "I know the director was going to talk to the chancellor about," he paused for a moment, "the developing situation."
"I'm still going to do that, Jack," Tao spoke.
"Noé might be the only politican I trust to be of any help in this," his former partner surprised him. "I've been considering to bring him into the fold for some time now. Whoever may come after him might not be half the leader he is."
"Where are you going with this?" Tao asked.
"We should do it as soon as possible. Noé isn't getting any younger nor is the next election going to be as one-sided as the last one. Previously Francis Noé was the chancellor who ended the Fringe Wars and introduced humanity to a greater galactic community. Now he's the chancellor under which the IFS rose from its ashes and thousands of our people met their deaths at the hands of said greater galactic community. Won't be the same landslide victory," the head of Cerberus argued.
"Why not bring all of this up to the Widow Maker?" Tao shrugged. Harper had been rather quiet about this entire matter ever since one of his missions had sent Tao to come face to face with another Object Omnicron.
"The director lacked our perspective on the matter. She wouldn't have listened to me. I don't know what changed her mind in the end but I know that she would want us to continue her work," Harper explained as he dipped the cigarette into the ashtray, causing its fainting orange glow to become stronger as it was liberated of the already burned wrapping. "You're the best pick for this. You've seen it first hand. With you as Section 13's director and me as the head of Cerberus, we can come a long way."
"Let's just hope that the way will be long enough," Tao said as the man sitting across from him exhaled some more smoke. "When are you going to Arcturus?"
"When are we going to Arcturus," Jack corrected. "I already have a frigate enroute to pick us up. This is a matter neither one of us should break to him alone."
"So much for settling in," Tao muttered. It made sense for the two of them to do this together, as Jack had already said, they had a unique perspective on the matter. "When are we leaving?"
"Two hours."
"Thanks for the heads-up," the newly appointed director chuckled.
"Always," the other man replied. "Just be there, I've already gathered everything we know right here," he held up a tablet.
24. May 2390 AD, Arcturus Station
The station's evacuation had been rather quick. Getting everyone back on it was the long part. Marine teams had just finished searching Arcturus's every corner on the small chance that someone had evaded the scanners of the security hub and therefore most people were still in the process of being transported back to their workplaces or homes on the station. The chancellor wasn't most people. He had been brought back as soon as possible to get back to work and the thought of what exactly the deceased director wanted to talk about lingering at the corner of his mind ever since he had run into his assistant on the Shasta.
He stepped into his office and looked out of the window, the darkness of space greeting him as a green vessel floated by, another cruiser ready to release the people that had fled onto it during Kamarov's attack back on the station.
"You've got to stop doing that. Some day you'll give me a heart attack," he addressed the two man in black uniforms that had already been lingering in the corner of his office when he had walked in. "How do you keep getting in here anyway?"
"There's something we have to talk about, Chancellor," Harper spoke as he stepped forward without answering his question. "But first I'd like you to meet Tao Rei, the newly appointed director of Section 13."
"I've already been notified of your change in leadership," Noé said as he shook the man's hand. "I'm going to lean out of the window and say this is about the same thing the previous director wanted to talk about?"
"Yes," Harper simply replied as he pointed towards the chair. "This is going to take a while, you should sit down."
"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Noé sighed as headed for his chair, a tablet being handed to him once he set down. What he read and saw in the next ten minutes shook him to the core of his very being.
It began in 2379 when an IFS mining operation dug up a device Section 13 called 'Object Omnicron', something apparently capable of altering the physiology of any organic creature through invasive implants and having a limited influence over them. The device was destroyed shortly after its discovery and records of the incident were sealed from anyone outside of the organisation, for good reasons by the looks of it. The images of twisted, cybernetically enhanced humans combined with the somewhat eerily design of the sleek, purple metal object were the stuff nightmares were made out of. Chancellor Noé stared at a picture dated in the year 2379, and noticed the bluish skin of the human he was looking at, tubes were running out of his mouth and his fingers had been tipped with sharp metal claws, bundles of hair still visible on his otherwise bald head, fine lines running under his skin. Finally he noticed the eyes of the creature. They looked familiar.
"Prosthetics," he spoke as he turned to Harper. "Could've fooled me."
"I've been cleared for duty after multiple check-ups," Harper assured him as Noé read about the two men who had conducted the mission to destroy the object, Harper and Rei. "It's unknown why I wasn't effected like the rest. We believe time of exposure is paramount for the process to be successful. I merely touched it for a few seconds."
Then Noé read about the incident nine years later and noted the fact that the specialist that had conducted this mission had been Tao Rei, the newly appointed director standing in front of him. He noted that he encountered a turian special operations team on the ground and that only their combined efforts managed to stop their target from leaving the planet, the footage of a turian with fine blue lines pinning another, smaller one against a wall as his metal talon tightened around the throat of the soldier added to the report. The similarity between this turian and the human victims of the other incident were noticeable although the former's modifications were rather sophisticated compared to the butcher's work that had been done on the IFS mining crew.
"You've waited eleven years to tell me this?" Noé muttered as his eyes narrowed. A weapon capable of perverting the very nature of a living being, twisting them into thralls of something refered to as 'Harbinger' in the reports. Something that was apparently being tracked by both the salarians and the turians as well.
"Sir, I've been clea-" the director began to defend himself.
"I'm not talking about you, Harper. I'm talking about everything else."
"We didn't know that the Omnicrons were part of something bigger until recently," the new director of Section 13 said. "We spent nine years thinking the one on Shanxi was unique, a remnant of a war fought there long ago. We only started actively looking for a connection two years ago, when the last one was destroyed with the help of a turian team I met along the way."
"Even then, two years. Why now?" Noé asked. "What changed?"
"The Leviathan of Dis made it clear that we're merely looking at a small part of a much bigger picture, a picture neither Cerberus nor Section 13 can fully comprehend on their own at the moment," Director Rei spoke.
Noé turned his attention back to the tablet, reading about the large 'corpse' of something referred to as a 'genetically engineered' spaceship that had been found by a batarian survey team on Jartar. The information on it hadn't been gathered by a human team. Instead Cerberus had received stolen reports and classified footage from a salarian STG team that had managed to sneak through the blockade the Batarian Hegemony had placed on the world. Whoever had been responsible for the leak hadn't been found yet as far as this file was concerned. To top things off the last director had voiced her concerns about the age of this Leviathan, one billion years, and the fact that the age of the Object Omnicrons paled in comparison. She had been worried that their creators may have simply left them behind from a previous war.
"What do you propose we do about all of this?" Noé asked as he himself began to process all of this as fast as possible.
"Allow us to reach out to the turians. At least one of their generals knows about this, he was the leader of the ground team I encountered," Rei went on, "and more importantly, promise us that none of this ever leaves this room. You can't tell anyone, not yet."
"We don't have enough evidence to fully back up all of these theories," Harper added. "Making them public would be disastrous."
He had a point. One way or another the public would lose faith in the HSA, either through branding all of them as crazy or through the fact that this had been kept classified as long as it has. They were in a no-win situation.
"Normally I'd say that the people have a right to know something of this magnitude but this situation is hardly normal," Noé spoke. "I want you to increase your efforts and I'm asking Section 13 to keep looking for the STG source."
"What about the turians?" Rei said. "They have the same first hand experience we do."
"I'm getting there, Director Rei. General Arterius, wasn't it?"
"Yes, Sir," the man answered.
"Try to find him and figure out how much he told his own government, do so in person, you've met him before, that has to count for something. Inform me once you know more."
The newly appointed director nodded as Noé turned towards Harper.
"While Section 13 will try to establish contacts within other races, Cerberus will keep doing what you've already been doing. Figure out as much about all of this as you can. From now on I'm making this your top-priority, do you understand? Shift assets away from other projects if you have to, assign more members of your research division on this matter if you have to. From now on this 'Harbinger' is Cerberus's first concern."
"Yes, Sir," Harper said in the same fashion his companion had done seconds ago.
"Figure out if the Shadow Broker knows anything about this, as much as I hate the guy, he might be useful in this particular case," Noe suggested. "Your suggestion of increasing the security of our colonies is something I can help you with as well. Under the premise of preparing for slaver raids and a possible proxy war with the Hegemony I could bring the parliament to increase our military budget. Kamarov's little stunt may very well help sway their opinion on the matter," Noé said as rose from his desk. "However there's something else I need to know."
"What is it, Sir?" Harper asked.
"When will all of this go down?" he asked as he leaned on the desk.
"We don't know," the director of Cerberus replied. "However we're afraid that it will happen within our lifetime. The turian on Nonuel made it sound like this Harbinger would make his move sooner than later. He said that there's no future for his people."
"Doesn't exactly sound like something you'd say in regards to an event that isn't imminent," Rei added.
"So you're basing this assumption on the testimony of a brainwashed turian?" Noé chuckled. "Don't get me wrong," he said as he held up the tablet. "I agree that there's something to it, I just don't see how you came to this conclusion."
"It's our job to assume the worst, Sir," Harper offered. "No matter how farfetched it sounds. You wanted me to be humanity's guard dog, now I'm asking you to trust my instincts. Even if we're wrong about the timing, something's coming, Sir. The Widow Maker agreed, otherwise she wouldn't have changed her mind on brining you in on this."
"Excuse me?"
"She only changed her mind after Elysium and we don't even know why. Before Kamarov she argued that your status as an elected leader meant that you may not be as much of a help as we'd need you to be. We disagree with that notion," Harper said as he gestured towards Rei.
"She had a point," Noé admitted. "I may not stay in power as long as you need me to."
"Which is why we can't waste time debating if this happens tomorrow or in thirty years," Rei said. "We came to you because you've lead us through the Fringe Wars."
"What else do you want me to do?" Noé asked as he retrieved a bottle from a cabinet in his office.
"Help as long as you can," Rei spoke.
"I can't tell you how long that'll be."
"Which is why we need you to put your faith in us right now," Harper urged.
"Very well," Noé said after a mere moment of consideration. Others may have taken much longer to make a decision of such importance but after spending 25 years in the cockpit of a carrier fighter craft Francis Noé had grown used to make important decisions at a moments notice. Furthermore the situation as described to him really didn't make 'no' an option.
"Thank you, Sir," Harper said.
"We promised to be ever vigilant. Can't go back on that promise in face of something like that," setting down the unopened bottle, Noé picked up a folder from the same cabinet and opened it on his table. He could drink later. "Now if you'd excuse me. I still have to finish up the Treaty of Farixen matter."
"Of course, Sir."
"And Harper?" he said in an usually deep tone, stopping them from opening the door.
"Yes, Sir?"
"From here on, no more secrets. Especially regarding yourself," Noé said as the men were about to leave his office.
"Understood, Sir."
1. June 2390 AD, Citadel, Chambers of the Citadel Council
Goyle drew in a rather long breath before stepping in front of the three councilors, Benezia, Ioventus and Idril. The veto the turian councilor had called five years ago was now no longer standing in the way of debating the Treaty of Farixen and the fact that the HSA would not be able to sign it without having to deconstruct some of its dreadnoughts due to the limitations it put on the ships was still standing in mankind's way of achieving associate status with the Citadel Council.
There were several approaches she had been instructed to try. First of she was supposed to throw every political good will humanity had collected over the last seven years into the pool, hoping that it would pave the road for the next step of the plan, offer parts of the human navy, especially the dreadnoughts which couldn't exist if the HSA wanted to become an associate, to take over patrol duties within Citadel Council space, bargaining its assistance in exchange for keeping its ships.
The second approach was to abuse a loophole so to speak, modifying some Everest-Classes to no longer fit the technical definition of a dreadnought and allowing the HSA to sidestep the Treaty of Farixen in the process. While the chancellor had told her to avoid this if possible, it was still within the acceptable perimeters of the negotiation.
The third approach was the absolute last resort. Agree to dismantle the oldest dreadnoughts within the navy and replace the losses through the accelerated production of carriers and assault carriers. While the Everest-Classes were no longer being constructed, now replaced by the much newer Kilimanjaro-Classes, they were still an integral part of human naval doctrine, serving as more than just long range artillery ships. Losing most of them, the Treaty of Farixen only allowing any associate to have five dreadnoughts, matching the current number of Kilimanjaro-Classes in service, would mean that eight Everest classes would have to be withdrawn from active duty and that a lot of funding would have to be shifted to replace the loss in capital ships and force projection. This approach would be the worst deal.
"Good day, Ambassador Goyle," Benezia greeted her as she stood between her two colleagues, radiating a far cry from the sense of superiority that had surrounded Tevos . "As you are aware, today marks an important day for both the Citadel Council and humanity."
"We've gathered to continue the debate that was vetoed by Councilor Ioventus five years ago," Idril went on in the usual style of the three councilors. The asari would begin their statement, the salarian would go on with the facts and the turian would give it a serious edge at the end. "This meeting will not be adjourned until a conclusion has been reached."
"The last five years have been eventful for all of us and we've gathered quite the impression of your species," Ioventus finished. "The Council will now hear your case, Ambassador Goyle."
"Honored councilors," she began. "Over the course of the last seven years, ever since our people first fought together on the ground of Parnack, both opportunities and threats have greeted my people and our species have learned from each other," she said as she looked at the members of the council, "fought side by side with each other and worked hand in hand to ensure that the evils of this galaxy don't triumph over us. We've been plotted against and we've been attacked where it hurt most but in spite of all of that, we prevailed. Humanity has proven that it is capable of being a productive member of the galactic community and it is my believe that events such as the our war against criminal syndicates, the liberation of slaves, our pursuit of justice for the galactic code of law and the recent arrival of human recruits to C-SEC confirm that the HSA is willing not only to work with the Council but willing to do its own part in maintaining peace for the galaxy, something not every race is capable of doing."
This part of her speech was intended to be provocative, the whispers it drew from volus, elcor, hanar or batarian diplomats overlooking this meeting from the ranks above the chamber were telling Goyle that it was working. The point of this provocation was to draw attention to the fact that the HSA was in fact surprisingly strong for a non-council member, a combination of unchecked expansion into the Attican Traverse, a rather large pool of resources, a natural aptitude to taking risks and a sizeable fleet making it stand out among the other associate members in one way or another.
"It is because of this willingness that I ask the Council to consider the following suggestion," Goyle spoke. "The HSA is aware that our navy harms the conditions of the Treaty of Farixen, a treaty drafted during a time my people weren't even capable of traveling across certain parts of our own home." Humbleness was the next part of her strategy, no need to sound arrogant before the part bargaining, "and while we are willing to conform to these limitations through either the refit or deactivation of our older dreadnoughts, we ask that the Council considers the unique situation we find ourselves in at the moment. Ever since the treaty was signed, no one who exceeded its ratio has come into contact with the Citadel Council. No race upon first contact has ever possessed the number of dreadnoughts humanity has access to and for this reason the Human Systems Alliance offers that, in exchange for maintaining our current fleet, we do something no other aspiring associate has done before. Offer parts of our navy to aid the Council in maintaining peace across its borders and do our part in maintaining the galactic peace. The recent years have left us with experienced crews and battle-tested strategies, both of which we are willing to apply for the greater good of the galaxy if the Citadel Council allows us to maintain our dreadnoughts with the promise that we won't increase the number of vessels we currently possess of the class until the Treaty of Farixen would allow us to do so."
When she finished her speech, she heard the first whispers turn into disbelieving shouts, rather batarian sounding voices now calling to 'remove the arrogant primitive from the chambers'. She had expected the volus, hanar or elcor to have less of a problem with this. The first were still a client race of the Hierarchy which meant that they had to share the turian position on the Treaty of Farixen while the later two wouldn't complain about an addition to the fleets protecting them. The batarian reaction had been anticipated as well. They were far more militant than any other client race and had a history of using their dreadnoughts as a means of force projection and intimidation while being forced to conform to the Treaty of Farixen through the might of the Citadel Council.
"There will be order on the ranks," a distinctively turian voice flanged through the chamber.
"What would this redesign look like?" the turian councilor asked after the chatter had settled down.
"A dreadnought, by definition, is a ship that possesses a mass accelerator spanning the entire spine of the vessel. Our Everest-Class dreadnoughts, for maintenance reasons, have modular main guns, meaning that we have considered taking away parts of the gun, making it no longer a dreadnought, and fill the empty space with other installations. We would be willing to have agents of the council oversee the refitting process, currently known as Project Chimera, to confirm that the vessels no longer fit the technical description of a dreadnought."
The councilors shared a look. "Using a loophole," the salarian commented. "Unorthodox and most likely expensive."
"We like to see it as finding common ground," Goyle explained. "Deconstructing dreadnoughts would have a serious impact on several parts of our society, modifying them would lessen the blow."
"You would still be willing to begin deconstruction should there be no alternative?" Benezia asked.
"As a last resort, yes," Goyle didn't like where this was going.
"Good. There is truth to everything you say, Ambassador Goyle," Benezia began to speak after both of her colleagues nodded towards her. For some reason she suspected that they had decided on the outcome of this before hand. She braced herself for the demand. "Humanity has proven that it is capable of being a functioning member of the galactic community, one willing to not only cooperate but also willing to take responsibility," Benezia began.
This didn't exactly sound like the beginning of the 'decommission your dreadnought'-speech she had expected.
"Furthermore the Treaty of Farixen was never intended to force the deconstruction of already existing dreadnoughts, but to limit the number of vessels a race can construct. The uniqueness of your situation has been considered," the salarian went on, "and past events have shown that the Citadel Council has to adapt a changing galaxy. The Treaty of Farixen was never meant to be applied in the way it would have to be applied to you."
Interesting. Were they actually going where she thought they were going?
"The galaxy is neither as unified nor as safe as some may believe. There will always be those who prey on the defenseless," the turian started to form the last part of the Council's response, "and because of their kind the Council welcomes a people who are willing to not simply seek shelter behind our fleets but take an active part in defending the community they strive to be a part of. The duty of ensuring peace across Citadel space is one many shy away from since the responsibility to do so is one few are capable of taking on. You do not shy away and past events, among them the deeds of your C-SEC candidates, have shown that humanity is capable of pulling more than just its own weight."
"We believe that your willingness to take on this responsibility is an admirable example to the rest of the galactic community," Benezia surprisingly began again. They were breaking their pattern, "and therefore see enough of a reason to consider your first proposal. All those in favour of accepting it may now raise their hand."
Goyle expected Ioventus to do so. The turians were long since growing tired of doing the lion share of peacekeeping and harbored a lot of sympathy for the HSA. They'd welcome any assistance. However the salarian and asari hands that rose at the same time surprised her. The sound of batarian outrage that followed through the chambers mere moments later did not. She had studied the Council's history. Keeping the interests of all associates balanced was not possible, every decision they made drew the ire of at least one race. In this instance it had drawn the ire of the batarians who were the only associate race that maintained several dreadnoughts themselves.
"Order," Benezia commanded as she stopped whoever was supposed to maintain the calm atmosphere within the chambers from doing there job. "The Council has decided. The HSA will be granted an exclusive stance towards the Treaty of Farixen on the grounds of their unique situation and their willingness to take on more responsibility than other associate members. This meeting is now adjourned."
"Thank you, honored councilors," Goyle simply replied. She did not expect this to go down as smoothly as it did.
"We will contact you once its time to finish the process of becoming an associate, Ambassador Goyle," Benezia spoke and no one dared to raise their voice above a whisper.
"Until then we'll make the necessary preparations to include human vessels into the patrol scheduel."
Goyle respectfully nodded her head before turning to leave the chambers, walking past the C-SEC officers guarding them and noticing the four-eyed glares that were being thrown her way from the upper ranks. The batarians weren't happy that much was evident.
As she walked down the steps towards her security detail, she could already make out the sound of an argument and soon enough she could see the batarian ambassador, Jath'Amon, and his honor guard, their crimson armor making them stand out compared to the bluish uniforms C-SEC was clad in. The batarian was trying to make his way past the C-SEC detail and towards the chambers she had just left, the backs of her own security detail turned towards her as they lingered behind the C-SEC officers.
"I am sorry, I can't let you go inside, Ambassador Amon," a salarian C-SEC officer tried to defuse the situation, "an appointment or a summoning is required to meet the councilors."
"The Council will hear the batarian delegation, now," the much heavier, light-brown skinned batarian countered as he titled his head to the right, "and you will step out of my way or suffer for your insolence."
"If you don't move out of the way, we'll make you," one of the batarians threatened as Goyle coughed to draw the attention of the man in black uniform.
"I take it things went better than expected?" Alec Shepard asked as he notice Goyle's smile and the rest of the soldiers realised that the person they were supposed to protect had arrived.
"Much better."
"You won't threaten any of my officers," a flanging voice declared as an armored C-SEC officer joined the argument in front of them by walking between the ambassador and his salarian colleague. The black-plated turian towering above the batarian ambassador was the head of C-SEC's Enforcement Division, Venari Pallin. "Leave the premise and put in a request or be removed."
"Something tells me we should get out of here," the specialist chuckled as the argument grew more heated, "though part of me wants to see this."
"Word," Goyle agreed as the human delegation began to walk past them.
"The Hegemony demands a meeting," the batarian repeated angrily.
"I don't care what the Hegemony demands," the turian stood his ground as more C-SEC officers arrived to the commotion to back up their superior.
"Step out of my way, turian," Jath'Amon demanded as he got closer to the turian, his overweight, small frame looking rather pathetic compared to the tall, bulky turian.
"You're not nearly as intimidating as you think you are, batarian," Pallin countered as he dropped his usual courtesy, the humans now walking right past them and the angry grunting coming from the crimson-armored batarians causing Goyle to turn towards them, one flashing his pointy teeth at her before once more returning his attention towards the turian standing in their path.
"I'll inform the Executor of your behaviour," the batarian 'diplomat' spoke as the turian's mandibles twisted into the equivalent of a smirk as Jath'Amon began to retreat, apparently realising his mistake as the much bigger turian failed to react to his attempt of intimidation.
"See if he cares."
2132 CE, Palaven, Hinalius Mountain Range
"Attention!" it echoed through the hall as the Blackwatch trainees rose in their grey dress uniforms, a black shield with a golden Mexta sword freshly sawn on them, different commendations and medals visible on the chest of each recruit, Saren's Nova Cluster being among the highest of military honours within the room. The officer who had been in charge of their training class walked towards the small podium in front of them as the sixteen Blackwatch recruits stood as still as statues. This was the moment they had spent the better part of the last two years working towards.
Graduation.
Being introduced into the ranks of the Blackwatch was a grueling process. Live-fire combat exercises, physical training bordering torture, close quarter drills with real knifes, climbing mountains without the necessary gear and many other deadly activities now lay behind the sixteen soldiers standing in the room at this moment. It spoke for Blackwatch's selection process that none of them had perished along the way. Any other unit would have experienced at least some casualties in face of such odds, Blackwatch wasn't any other unit. There hadn't even been a single drop-out.
Saren had finally achieved the last step before applying as a Spectre and he couldn't deny the existence of a feeling that was telling him to stay with his Blackwatch class, the turians had grown on him, the shared struggle of the last two years acting as the bonding agent between them. Sadly his feelings had to give way to the next step of the plan, the very reason he had started this course in the first place, the knowledge that had carried him through every challenge put into his path. Haliat's face flashed before his eyes as he remembered the fact that something was still lurking in the dark, waiting for the galaxy to be vulnerable. What he wanted to do and what he needed to do where two very different things.
"At ease, be seated," Commander Xarus ordered and the soldiers complied. "First off, I'd like to extend my congratulations to all of you. Each and every member of this class has endured the harshest training the Hierarchy has to offer and gone from already extraordinarily capable to the pinnacle of soldiery. You've proven yourself time and again and I am proud of the progress every last one of you has shown. From now on you are full fledged members of the Blackwatch Legion but make no mistake, it will not get any easier from here on. Starting in a week you will receive your first assignments. I do not know where the future will lead this class but I know that each and every one of you will do Blackwatch proud."
The commander snapped to attention as the turian imperial anthem, a music piece predating the Hierarchy itself, began to play, causing the sixteen recruits do the same for its entire duration. Once the musical piece, rather fittingly named 'Die for the Cause', was finished, the commander remained in his current stance.
"Remember the words we live by," he roared through the room. "From the shadows we preserve the light."
"From the shadows we preserve the light," the class echoed.
"For the Hierarchy," he finished in traditional turian fashion.
"For the Hierarchy!" Saren and his fellow Blackwatch operatives called back.
"Now enjoy your downtime. Spirits know you've earned it."
As the recruits moved out of the room and into the corridors of unit's training camp, Saren found himself wandering away from the crowd and instead of meeting up with the rest of the freshly crowned Blackwatch operatives in the community room he was now standing outside of the camp, the chilly air of Palaven's mountain regions greeting him as he gazed upon the peaks of the area, most of which he had climbed at some point in the past. The rugged, grey stone of the mountains clashed with the clear, dark night sky of the turian home world. The lack of the light usually emitted by the skyscrapers of the turian fortress-like cities spread across the planet spoke for how distant to civilization this place truly was. It had its perks. As he exhaled, the warm air of his lungs clashed with the cold of the outside before slowly ascending upwards, soon only barely visible to his eyes before completely disappearing into the canopy of stars above him. If he hadn't just proven the opposite by inhaling again, he might have gone as far as saying that the beauty above him was breathtaking.
The next step of his brother's plan was to make him a Spectre, the elite of the Citadel Council, the most talented soldiers the galaxy had ever produced. Two years ago, before Bassilo's death, he never would've imagined to stand where he was right now. One mission combined with his curious nature had changed the entire course of his life and at times he wasn't quite sure if it had been for the better. He would've been satisfied with rising through the ranks as a cabal but that prospect had been torn from him with the revelation that he was required to do much more. The Saren who had planned to settle down after a lifetime of being a Kabalim had been very different from the person he was today. The young soldier hadn't known about the things he was truly capable of, he hadn't known that his brother was the 79th commander of the Hierarchy's most prestige legion, he hadn't escaped death's clutches and he hadn't known about the creature that lurked in the darkness, waiting for the moment it could strike.
Once he was induced into the ranks of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance unit of the Citadel Council, Saren was supposed to propose a human candidate, effectively pushing them even closer to the seat on the council they so desired. The three months since they had been granted a rather unique standing towards the Treaty of Farixen had made one thing evident, they were an ambitious people, already showing a degree of dissatisfaction with their status as an associate race, something he would have to take part in changing. As a member of the Council the race would be able to field more dreadnoughts, something that would be necessary in the fight his brother was taking subtle steps to prepare the galaxy for. While Saren would have to play the political game, his brother would stay true to Blackwatch's mantra, working in the dark to push the races together. He knew that Desolas had approached both the Primarchs and an old STG contact, the later of which was still an enigma to the young turian.
This was as far as they had planned. Right now they didn't know nearly enough about their foe to make more but the most basic plan. After completing it they'd have to improvise. Luckily both brothers were rather adapt at doing just that.
"Spirits it's freezing out here," he heard a familiar voice call behind him as a grey-plated turian appeared next to him.
"Darius," he said as he looked at the turian's blue facial marks.
"What are you doing out here, Saren?" his fellow biotic asked.
"Thinking," he answered before clarifying. "About the future."
"It is true then?"
"What is true?"
"I heard you were planning on becoming a Spectre, leave the Blackwatch to serve the Citadel Council," Darius explained. "Don't get me wrong, I admire it. The galaxy could use someone like you. These days the galaxy could use just about anyone willing to fight the good fight."
Saren remained silent, there wasn't much he could say as a reply.
"You'll have to get evaluated by another Spectre, won't you?" Darius asked, breaking the silence.
"First I have to apply and then they'll have to accept me as a candidate," the former cabal corrected.
"I've seen you fight, if they don't pick you, they are stupid," the other former cabal replied. "Why try out as a Spectre?"
"To become the soldier I need to be," Saren said, echoing the words he had already given the Blackwatch sergeant who had asked why he wanted to join their legion. "The soldier the galaxy needs me to be."
"The galaxy will be better off with someone like you to watching its back," the turian chuckled as he gazed at the mountains. "Nothing like home."
"Come to think of it, you never mentioned your home before. Where exactly are you from?" Saren asked as the realisation came to him. "Besides Palaven," he added, considering the blue facial marks.
"Cipritine. This beats that buzzing mega city any day," Darius answered as he nodded upwards before rubbing his hands together. "Although this place could do with a little more heat. What about you?"
"Elapri," Saren said. The region that was famous, or rather infamous, for having defied the Hierarchy's rule on Palaven the longest, the tradition of marking ones face never really catching on in the city located near Palaven's equator either. Some called it the birthplace of bare-faces, more radical groups such as Palavani Prima going as far as calling everyone born in Elapri a 'traitor by birth' due to the town rebelling against Palaven during the Unification Wars. Luckily these groups were ignored by the majority of reasonable turians but sadly the stigma against bare-faced turians still remained.
"I hear Elapri is beautiful this time of the year," Darius said as a sense of relieve washed over the former cabal. While Saren had never been ashamed of who he was, he would've hated for this to drive a wedge between him and his comrade. "Always wanted to go there, see the famous white cliffs."
"What did you tell them when you climbed up the mountain?" Saren asked, seemingly out of the blue. He felt like talking right now and this would be something both cabals would understand, it also beat talking about Elapri.
"I said that it's worth it," Darius recalled after a moment.
"What's worth it?" the words left Saren's mouth faster than he could register, his curiosity once more surfacing.
"All of this," Darius said as he looked up into the starry night, a sense of purpose in his voice. "Palaven, the Hierarchy, the Council. It's worth fighting for. I'd give everything I have to protect it, Saren."
"Sounds like you'd make a great Spectre yourself," the younger Arterius observed, "a better one than me, honestly."
"It's not my calling," Darius explained as he locked eyes with Saren, his icy blue eyes earnest. "I realised that I was born to walk this road," he said as he tapped the sigil on his chest.
"How can you be so certain of this?" Saren asked. While he knew he had to become a Spectre, he didn't know if it was truly his calling.
"My father once told me that a man will only realise where he belongs once he gets there. Deep inside, he will discover a sense of purpose unlike anything he's ever experienced. It'll start a fire in him nothing can extinguish, not the greatest challenge, not the worst tragedy, not even the spirits themselves. It'll burn until his dying day and nothing will uproot him from that place," Darius explained, "For all his faults, on this particular subject he was right."
"And your fire has started," Saren concluded as the turian next to him nodded before both of them turned their attention back to the stars above them. Darius's words echoed through his mind, answering the question whether the mission on Tunae-Prime had changed his life for the better or worse.
"Everyone is born for a reason, Saren," Darius broke the silence again, "and I've got a feeling that you'll find yours as a Spectre."
When he had walked outside of the base, he hadn't expected to have a deep conversation with one of the team leaders of his class but only now did he realise how much he had needed someone to say the things Darius had just said. There was no fire in him at the moment, only a sense of camaraderie. There hadn't been one in him when he was a cabal either, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to leave in the first place. He chose to trust the turian standing next to him as they looked at the sky above them, bearing no mind to the cold temperatures. By now they were used to blending these things out.
With his eyes he could make out Menae, the bigger of the two moons orbiting Palaven, and Nanus, its sister moon, creeping behind it in the distance. Beyond them countless stars dotted the night sky, the one standing out above all of them being Karia, the Watcher. Due to being aligned with Palaven's south pole Karia could reliably be used to navigate through the night if one lacked a positioning system or even something as basic as a compass. During training Saren had used it to find his way home more than just once.
The star itself was named after a famous yet mysterious figure of turian history. Ancient texts described Karia as a silent guardian who watched over the first larger group of turians that would go on to form the beginning stages of civilization on Palaven, acting as a guide, a warrior and a companion to the early leaders of the turian people. Some claim that she was a manifestation of the very spirit of the turian people, having done a great number of deeds before dying some eight thousand years ago, the place of her final resting place lost to time.
Saren himself wasn't sure if she actually had existed or if she simply represented an idea but as he looked at the star he felt something inside him change. Saren would do for the galaxy what the Watcher had done for him, light the way home in the darkest of time. Two years ago Desolas and himself had planned to shine a light on whatever it was that was lurking in the dark and expose it to the might of the galaxy but now he realised that his purpose didn't end there. Someone would have to lead the people of the galaxy back home, light their way in the most desperate of times.
"Thank you, Darius," he spoke as he drew his gaze from Karia. "I didn't know how much I needed that."
"Don't mention it," the turian replied.
"There's one more thing," Saren remembered. "How did you learn that I plan on becoming a Spectre?"
"Even Blackwatch operatives like a good rumor," Darius chuckled as another cloud of hot air rose upwards.
"Aditas?" Saren sighed as he recalled the rifleman bugging him on what he thought about the Spectres. He must have drawn the conclusion all by himself.
"Who but Aditas?" Darius smirked.
"While we are on the subject of rumors," Saren returned the smirk as he recalled another talk he had shared with the unit's biggest gossip. "I've heard a rather interesting one regarding the leader of team four."
"Zil?" his companion asked as he named the recon specialist that had led her team with great success, "what about her?"
"Credible sources may have told me that she developed something more than just a sense of camaraderie for a particular former cabal," Saren teased.
"Credible sources?" Darius chuckled, "Aditas?"
"Aditas," Saren confirmed.
"Well, go for it," the other cabal replied, oblivious to the fact that Saren wasn't talking about himself.
"Darius?" he chuckled.
"Yes?" the turian asked earnest.
"It's not me, it's you."
"Oh," the other turian realised as his mandibles twitched. "Well, we better get inside then, before I freeze of something I may get to use."
The two Blackwatch operatives shared a laugh before walking back into the training installation and making their way to the rest of their unit.
Codex: Turian History until the discovery of Mass Effect Technology (13,000 BCE to 794 BCE)
Turian civilization first began to form in 13,000 BCE as several bands of turians, previously operating in pack-like groups, began to form tribes which soon turned into tightly knit communities rivaling with other, hostile groups, allowing an early warrior culture to form on Palaven as those who could field more fighting-fit individuals prevailed through the ages. Roughly 8000 years ago the first turian cities began to sprawl from the tribal society on the very continent Cipritine, the capital of the Turian Hierarchy and nowadays home to nearly fourty million turians, is located and the now more powerful cities soon continued to fight among each other as the same mindset that set of the Unification Wars in 551 BCE began to manifest itself in the turian people as they spread across Palaven. Some time during this period the historic figure Karia is believed to have lived.
The role of the military grew more important as the years passed and wars among most of the turian states caused technological progress until 1123 BCE when most of Palaven had been settled by rivaling nation states, several of whom had already established the civil service still maintained within the Hierarchy.
The centuries passed and after the industrialization on Palaven began in 1020 BCE several wars of expansion ravaged across Palaven's surface as the turian militarism gave rise to large armed forces seeking to expand their own states at the expense of others, the arms race, eventually resulting in a global conflict that saw the predecessor state, a militaristic meritocracy centered around Cipritine, of the Turian Hierarchy as the victor after deploying several nuclear weapons on their foes to keep them from rising as a threat ever again.
Soon a space race between the state and a coalition of nations rallying around Elapri, a costal culture militant even by turian standards which had refused to take a side in the conflict,began eventually allowing the Hierarchy's predecessor state to discover ruins of an ancient, alien civilization now identified as a Prothean research outpost on Palaven's second, smaller moon, Nanus in 814 BCE.
The mass effect technology was soon applied to every field of science and the government body calling itself the Turian Hierarchy was founded on the grounds that the needs of the turian people outweighed the needs of the turian nations and that the time for unification had arrived.
While most nations joined the technologically superior super nation, some refused to bow to what they presumed to be 'cultural suicide' and fought a grueling war against the Hierarchy known as the Strife of Palaven. The Strife ended in 794 BCE when Elapri capitulated after the first use of orbital bombardment in turian history.
A/N: So, chapter 23 ... delayed and shorter than the last one by almost 2000 words. But I knew this would happen.
Last chapter basically marked the end of what I'd consider "Season 1" of Semper Vigilo, this being the first part of what didn't quite fit into the final of the "Season 1"-s last story arc, finally resolving the Treaty of Farixen, informing Noé of the findings up to now and giving more insight into Saren, who is really growing on me.
I hope his scenes are as good as I try to make them, the guy is after all the closest thing Semper Vigilo has to a protagonist as of right now since Commander Shepard is still very young.
For the records 170 reviews (nice work guys) 353 favorites and 440 follows. I'm glad to see you people started to pick up your review game, I really appreciate it.
Now I pulled an half allnighter to finish this chapter so I hope I didn't overlook anything I wanted to mention in this A/N.
As always, let me know what you think. You know, for the fix and all.
See you around next time.
