Chapter 81. Heavy Is The Head That Wears The Crown


Meanwhile, 27. March 2417 AD, HSASV Normandy, CO Quarters

They'd been on their way to the Citadel for the last two days now and according to EDI and Joker, it would be another day and a half before they finally arrived. Then Emily would find out what was so urgent that the Council insisted that she went from Freedom's Progress, which sat at the Attican-Terminus border, to the Citadel in the heart of the Serpent Nebula. But until then, the N7 found herself with something she hadn't really had since waking up on Cronos Station.

Downtime.

She had managed to kill most of yesterday by talking to the crew of the Normandy and the members of her team, getting to know the ones she hadn't met before and catching up with the ones she had known prior to the destruction of the first Normandy. What little had been left after the sets of conversations, she'd spent with reading the updated dossiers that Harper had passed along to her. What had stood out most about them was that Cerberus had evidently doubled back. Her mission to 'recruit Okeer' had been turned into 'secure his research and pass it on to Doctor Solus'. In honesty, Emily didn't care if that change had come from new information or a shift in Harper's stance regarding the help of war criminals. She was simply happy that she wouldn't have to deal with a war criminal like Okeer in the long run.

Additionally to the update on Okeer's role, Cerberus had also managed to collect more information on drell assassin. Krios was still on Illium and still doing what he did best, killing people. While there was obviously little indication, let alone hard proof, of the drell being the one behind the series of high-profile assassinations that had rocked Nos Astra in the last seventy two hours, Cerberus had managed to intercept a message the Illuminated Primacy's diplomatic corps. It had been a formal apology to several of the affected companies for the actions of their 'former' associate Thane Krios and the assurance that they had nothing to do with all the blood-spilling he had been doing since setting foot on Illium. While she could see why a guy like him would be useful in their fight against the Collectors, Emily still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the prospect of an actual assassin joining her crew, even if one could easily argue that what Krios was doing was perhaps not all too different from what Garrus had been doing prior to her arrival on Omega.

But despite their relevance to the mission, the updates on Krios and Okeer weren't what had captivated Emily's interest the longest.

That honor belonged to Kaidan's update, or rather the lack thereof.

Despite her request to make it a priority, the dossier of 'Captain Alenko' was still as empty as on day one. It still only read 'on assignment' and 'review pending'. Since Emily found it baffling that Cerberus was seemingly incapable of tracking down an active-duty HSA Marine Corps officer, she'd taken matters into her own hands. In parts, she'd done it to keep busy and continue to avoid thinking about what her sitting on her bed right now, two years after being spaced, actually implied. But she'd also decided to 'go rogue' and do her own research because she wanted Alenko on her team just as badly as she wanted Wrex and Liara. With Garrus accounted for, that would make the remainder of her original team complete.

Drell assassins and krogan war criminals weren't going to help her do something impossible for a second time.

Her old crew would. They'd already proven themselves capable of defying the odds once.

She scrolled further through the part of the HSA Marine Corps records and files that she could access, which were more than enough considering that she held the rank of Commander and had earned the N7 designation. But no matter how much she wanted to find something, there was nothing there. After his promotion in September of 2415, six months after Emily been declared MIA, Kaidan Alenko dropped off the face of the galaxy. He had left Arcturus Medical Center in April, gone on to a new posting on the HSASV Peak Tavka in May and then, after being promoted to captain in early September, his trail went cold. She'd searched military data bases, the extranet and even had EDI look through missing person reports, even if she figured that Kaidan being missing would definitely have been noted down somewhere.

But there were no results.

No one seemed to know where here was or what he was doing. Or alternatively certain people knew exactly where he was and were doing everything in their power to keep others, and particularly her, from finding out about. Why they'd do that? Emily had no idea but that was one of the few explanations she could come up with on the spot. Did that mean that she slowly getting paranoid?

After asking the question to herself, the N7 sighed and closed her terminal. This was no use, at least not right now. She was about to get up and ponder on what to do next in order to continue to avoid thinking about the fact that she was alive for a second time or do things as conflicting as actually respond to her mother's message, which had arrived even before Freedom's progress but still set unopened in her mail folder. Mercifully there was a knock on her door that took the decision away from her. She went over and answered it. When the door pulled open, she saw Leng standing in front of her in his PT gear.

She remembered the meeting they'd scheduled twenty minutes ago in the Normandy's gym pretty much instantly.

"Crap. Sorry," she frowned before the other N7 even opened his mouth tot state why he was here. Kai looked past her and to the desk where the terminal was still powering down.

"No worries," he said. "I take it you were busy?"

"More like made me busy," she responded before waving for him to come in. "I guess I lost track of time after all."

"Anything particular on your mind?" he replied while glancing at the empty glass shelves to the right of the door. On the last Normandy, she'd kept her model ships in there but since those had been blown up alongside the life-sized vessel and most of her other personal belongings, she had yet to find something to fill the shelf with.

If other crewmembers had asked her that, Emily would've probably brushed the question off to keep up the image of being the N7 who had everything figured out and wouldn't be shaken by anything. But Leng wasn't just a crew member, he was a friend.

"You remember Kaidan Alenko? The biotic who served on the Normandy when everything with Saren happened?"

"Yeah. You mentioned him a couple of times," he nodded. "What about him?"

"I got a dossier for him from Cerberus," she explained. "It says he's still active as a captain in the marines, currently on assignment and pending further review for mission suitability. But that's literally it. There's nothing else. I asked for more information on him, but Cerberus hasn't been able to give me anything and I didn't find anything either. Nothing in the data bases of the Corps, nothing in the extranet and nothing in his home city. It's like he vanished some time in 2415."

Leng tried to lean against the metal desk built as an extension of the shelf. When it creaked under his weight, he grimaced and once more opted for standing instead of breaking the new furniture of the Normandy II.

"Vanished is a bit of a strong word, isn't it?" he repeated.

"How would you call disappearing right after your promotion?" she retorted.

"Going AWOL," he said before catching her expression and realizing that she was serious "Sorry. Not funny," he added. Then he folded his arms. "Okay. Let's look at this from a rational point of view. I've heard of marine admins being a bit on the slow side. But I don't think they'd forget updating the status of a captain for two years in a row."

"Neither do I," Emily nodded.

"Then his current status really his current status, at least as far as the Corps is concerned."

"Yes."

"But it's obviously not accurate."

"Mhm."

"So. Who would have the authority and a reason to keep a tight lid on what Alenko is doing?"

The answer was immediately obvious in her mind.

She looked at the white and orange symbol that decorated the terminal sitting on the desk.

Leng noticed.

"You're sure?"

"Can you come up with someone who could keep a secret from Cerberus that isn't also a part of Cerberus?"

"Not on the spot. But why would Cerberus try to hide Alenko from you? I mean it's their op. Wouldn't it go against their interests to prevent you from assembling a team to complete it? Why would they do that."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out," she sighed. "Do you want to tell me that I'm being crazy and that this doesn't make any sense?"

The other N7 threw his towel over his shoulder.

"I'd love to," he said. "But from what I've seen of Cerberus up to now, I can't say that it sounds all too crazy. Yes. They're on our side. But they are also a black op division who really loves back-up plans," Leng figured. "The way I see it, Alenko was your XO back on the first Normandy and a damn powerful biotic. He saw just about everything you did and unlike you, he was around for the last two years. So if Cerberus got desperate while trying to bring you back, for example because it looked like you weren't going to make it at one point or another, I think it's entirely possible that they started to look at him as your replacement. If that happened, who knows what they might have talked him into?"

She considered the other N7's words for a moment.

"Ops can never be easy with me, can they?" she sighed.

"Like I said, you're a magnet for things turning fubar."

"I know. But from our allies? That's new."

Leng looked at her. Then he smirked and threw his towel in her direction.

"Come on. Obsessing over it won't get you anywhere right now. Time to work it out of your system before we hit the Citadel."

"Alright give me five to change."

"Good. I'll meet you downstairs," he said while on his way to the door. After crossing the doorstep, he turned around one final time and knocked against the metallic interori. "Oh and by the way, I talked the turians into joining us. It's about time I find out if they're really as fast as everyone says. Even cleaned up the hangar to build a track. So the starting point isn't the gym, but the hangar."

"You want to race a turian?"

"I want to race both turians."

"You're going to lose. To both of them. Turians are faster than humans."

"Then I'll do so gracefully."


Meanwhile, 27. March 2417 AD, Uncharted Regions, BC-313 New Dawn, Airlock

A new outpost in the uncharted regions, three infantry companies fresh out of assessment, a flight of fixed up corvettes they'd found from the old exploration missions and some more Paladins assembled from parts sent by their allies in the occupied systems. That was the balance of this afternoon and altogether, Admiral Kastanie Drescher should be pleased. Their forces were growing, as was their infrastructure. They were still nowhere close to the size of the IFSDF during its peak, obviously, but they were steadily approaching the numbers of the initial insurrection she'd joined back in 2376.

But she wasn't.

And there were two reason for it.

One was right there in her mind.

Ever since the strange ship had attacked the Citadel two years ago, she'd sent out scouting parties into the officially unexplored regions of the galaxy that the IFS had explored during the Fringe Wars. Their mission had been to retrace the steps of the Experimental Weapons Division and find out how it could be that the large dreadnought, which was supposedly a 'Reaper', had the exact same annihilation deflectors as the ship she was commanding right now.

For the last two years, there had been hardly any progress. In the wake of their defeat, the EWD had evidently strictly enforced a scorched-earth policy on the remote research outposts they had established. All the research objects had been hastily destroyed and the computer systems wiped clean so that none of their findings could be used by the HSA. While it had certainly been a sensible decision back then, right now Admiral Drescher was cursing whichever officer or senator had given the order.

It made her attempt at retracing their steps that much harder.

Since the similarities between the shielding on the dreadnought and the New Dawn were too close to be deemed a coincidence, no one in the galaxy used annihilation deflectors, Drescher was certain of this; somewhere out in the unexplored regions, there was an EWD outpost that had found something extraordinarily powerful and incredibly dangerous, another Reaper.

They had recognized the scale of their discovery and the impact it could have on the war immediately and contacted the senate, which had then given the all clear to use that discovery to begin designing the deadliest human warship in existence, the New Dawn Battlecruiser Class.

All this had happened in the ignorance of the nature of their discovery. With the tide of the war turning into the HSA's favor, no one had stopped to consider the creators of the weapon, or the danger they might pose to humanity if they should ever encounter it. They had simply seen a weapon unlike anything they'd ever heard of before and, in their desperate attempt to turn the war, started incorporating designs based on their findings into the New Dawn Class.

No one had ever dreamed of a threat similar to the so called 'indoctrination' that had reportedly been observed in the wake of the other destroyed Reaper.

As soon as this had become clear, Admiral Drescher had ordered an evacuation of the vessel and an examination by dozens of volunteers and hundreds of VIs. Over the course of several months the origin of every little gear and every bolt had been checked. What it did, what it was composed of, where it had come from, which factory plant had produced it and so on. After what had happened with the rogue Spectre who had led the attack, they couldn't have been too careful. If they were sitting in a ship made of designs from a Reaper and even a single part of it was created from something the EWD had taken of said Reaper, they were at the risk of being turned against their brethren. If that happened, the IFS, and by large humanity, was doomed. Only when the process had been completed and every part had been determined to come from the Fringe Worlds and be made of Fringe World materials had the crew and she returned to their stations and to their new mission.

The New Dawn might have been safe. At least as far as they could tell. But the same could not be said about the Fringe Worlds or humanity. While the galactic public had evidently been all too eager to buy the public version of an advanced geth dreadnought and splinter faction being behind the attack, even though the Council went into an unprecedented state of mobilization right after the attack had been finished, Drescher found herself in a unique position. She agreed with the now deceased N7 operative Commander Shepard.

Where there was one Reaper or counting the ship she believed the EWD had found, two, there were bound to be a thousand more.

As such, the IFS needed to prepare for the time when they showed and attacked humanity.

They couldn't fight them out in the open, obviously. To do that, needed more soldiers, more guns, more outposts and more ships than they had ever had. A thousand-times over than their highest numbers ever recorded.

However realistically speaking, Drescher knew that this just wouldn't happen

During the Fringe Wars, the billion-strong population of Horizon had carried the lion-share of the manpower and equipment demand that the war had had on the Fringe. But as of now, the world was once more occupied by the oppressive HSA government. They'd do a damn and help the IFS with what needed to be done.

So they needed another way, something to equal the odds.

And that would only come through rediscovering what the EWD had found and hoping that they had somehow discovered a weakness which the IFS could exploit.

But to do that, they needed to know where they had to look.

Few groups outside of the Council had maps of the unexplored regions and even fewer of them were willing to share them.

So they needed to convince one of these factions. Which brought her to the second reason she was not pleased.

"Open it but be ready to fire," she ordered.

There had been a lot of questionable choices she had made in her time as the leader of the IFS remnant. But this one would probably go down as the most controversial one.

The batarians, for obvious reasons, hadn't never even been an option in the eyes of the IFS and due to some past altercations with the Migrant Fleet, the quarians had also been a rather unpromising alternative. Hence, outside of insignificant and instable Terminus warlords, there was only one larger group outside of Council space which was isolated and independent enough to be willing to work with Council pariahs like the IFS, which as far as the galaxy were concerned were nothing but human insurrectionists, and also familiar enough with the unexplored regions to be able to provide legitimate maps.

While she still wasn't sure if this was a good idea, at least the few exchanges they had had over comms had been promising. If she gave them what they wanted, they would return the favor.

Probably.

"Yes, Ma'am," the soldier replied before the airlock started to lift and hiss.

She took a breath and by the time she had finished inhaling, she was face to face with their new ally.

By human standards, salarians were tall and thin. The first part was also true for the alien standing across from her, he was easily two meters tall and, due to the set of dark-red armor that he was wearing, which also obscured his face, he was probably even close to being two-twenty or something along those lines. However the thin part? That was far from fitting to describe the lystheni standing in front of her.

As expected from the 'brutish' off-shot species that had migrated from Council space and made their home far away from other civilizations, the alien was large and looked much stronger than one of his salarian cousins. While not 'krogan-large', as in looking like he could throw a small car around, the impression that Drescher got from the alien, and the two guards that flanked him, was that someone had taken a salarian and given him a very long steroid treatment. There was no sign of the spindly and thin statue their relatives had. Im fact, what she could see of his physique beneath parts of the grey undersuit he wore underneath the armor suggested a very muscular statue, even more so than that of a trained human athlete.

Additionally to the visible physical difference, there were also those in behavior, like for example the hand which was holding onto the grip of a pistol holstered on his left leg. Salarians weren't exactly known to openly threaten someone. They did it more subtly. However with the lystheni, there was no doubt that he was ready.

The dark-haired woman in IFS armor and the alien stared at each other for a few moments. Then the lystheni placed his hand on the side of his full-face helmet, pushed a button and turned a leaver. The action caused the faceplate to retract into the top of the helmet and the seals to open up and vent air. The hissing went on for a few seconds. Then, with a pull of his hand, he took off the helmet and let it dangle in his free hand at the right side of his body. He had a broader jaw, an ashen-grey face that was covered in black, grid-like tattoos, a set of dark and glassy large eyes and short, stubby horns that turned white at their end and looked far more like bone than those of a 'normal' salarian.

While there was something vaguely familiar about him, namely the eyes and the facial structure, Drescher could understand why the lystheni were seen as a separate species by most who had studied them. There was little that was salarian about this lystheni.

"As promised, two guards," unlike his appearance, his voice' pitch and pace was completely and entirely salarian, which surprised Drescher. From what she'd read about the lystheni, they were supposed to be slow, brooding creatures with deep, guttural voices who'd been 'subdued' by the smarter and more civilized salarians and then reaped the benefits of that 'unification'. But then again, that information had come from the same salarians who'd thrown he lystheni into the meat grinder during the Krogan Rebellions. So one could guess how accurate it would be.

She looked back at her own escort of two marines.

"As promised, two guards," she repeated before pulling of her own helmet. "My name is Admiral Kasatine Drescher. I am the one your leader talked to over comms."

The ashen-grey lystheni tilted his head to the right. "So I was told. My birthname is Fleroa Abesyth Ingar Drablo Drila and I have been bestowed the honor of calling myself commander to the Drivak you have approached. I do not think you can pronounce the lystheni word for my rank. So Invaladrata like yourself may address me as Emissary Captain Drablo." While it hadn't been clear in the first few words they had exchanged, Drescher now noticed that the lystheni was speaking an outdated salarian tongue, one the translator she was using didn't entirely recognize. Or maybe the lystheni had developed their own language in the millennia they had spent cornering themselves off since the Krogan Rebellions. Both options were possible.

"Very well, Emissary Captain Drablo. It is my pleasure to greet you in the name of my people."

"And it is my solemn duty to greet you in the name of mine," the lyshteni replied. Unlike Drescher and the admiral she had talked to previously, it seemed like Drablo wasn't too interested in hiding the xenophobia lystheni were known for.

After the greetings were exchanged, she saw the captain relax on the grip of his sidearm ever so slightly. The hand was still there but it was now less ready to act than before.

"I understand that you made a proposal to the admiral, one that includes a message to the elders," he said.

"Yes. Considering that our people share the experience and the suffering of living under oppression, I've come to believe that we may be able to help each other or at the very least, profit from our shared knowledge."

Again the lystheni titled his head to the right. She wondered if that was something they had adopted from the batarians and if it meant the same thing to them as it did to them, namely expressing the belief of one's superiority over their opposite.

If that was the case, she had a bad feeling about this decision already

Drablo extended his hand.

"Give me the message. I promise that I shall deliver it to the elders."

She reached for a pouch in her black and red hardsuit, which was a modified and repainted version of a stolen HSA suit of armor, and pulled out a data drive.

"I was hoping to make that delivery myself," she replied despite the first contact package that the lystheni had sent her.

"By law, Invaladrata are not permitted to set foot on the elder ships. You cannot go."

She knew that just like she knew that similar to the quarians, the lystheni lived a nomadic lifestyle. But they weren't stuck in a large fleet like the quarians. Their biology allowed them to jump from planet to planet and spent years at a time in a 'sedentary' phase where they produced supplies and weapons, maintained and expanded their fleets and raised their offsprings before once more leaving for a new, unknown home.

While she figured that that kept their numbers in check, there could only be so many ships and beds to go around between the 'elder tribes' and their fleets that formed the core of lystheni society, there was an added benefit to the strategy. One that made up for the lack of a permanent, planet-based empire.

It kept them off the Council's radar.

Although the Union had been very glad to forget about the lystheni and the asari followed a 'live and let live' philosophy, something told Drescher that the likes of the Hierarchy or even the HSA wouldn't take too kindly to a xenophobic people who lived outside of Council space and had a comparatively high number of war-ready, albeit outdated ships. If they were based in one location or had one unified empire close to Council Space, she wouldn't put it past them, and particularly past the HSA, to feel threatened by the fleets roaming around their borders, lash out in a lightning-fast war and turn them into another client state just like they had done with the CIP or the Fringe Worlds.

There were not a lot of kind words she had for the HSA but if there was one thing she would give them credit for then it was their ability to win wars quickly and reap the benefits of them for a long time. Whether she liked it or not, history spoke for them in that regard. With the exception of the Fringe Wars, the HSA had finished every conflict it had ever started, which was a very long list, incredibly fast and, despite the destruction of said conflict and the loss of life attached to it, always improved their position afterwards. In essence that was what the HSA had been all about since the turn of the twenty fourth century and the colonialization of the Fringe Worlds. A vicious, destructive cycle of expansion.

They would fuel an aggressive colonialism until they hit an obstacle, then they would opt for a forceful removal of said obstacle. Out of that removal an enormous military-industrial complex would profit and stock up on bribes and then, after a few years of pretend-peace, a bunch of power-hungry and greedy politicians on Arcturus would once more restart the circuit and do their best to increase the scale the next time around so that their bribes could grow alongside the complex. Once she had recognized that pattern and the role that she as a soldier played in it, Drescher didn't see an option other than joining the IFS to try and put a stop to it.

Whether it was the build-up to the Fringe Wars and the piracy crack downs of the time, the Fringe Wars and the occupation that had followed, the Mercenary Intervention in the Terminus, the Skyllian Blitz, or as of the latest, the Eden Prime war against the geth, the HSA always came out stronger of a conflict and the likes of Hahne-Kedar and Kassa Fabrications always ended up richer and more influential so that they could start the next war even more easily.

"Then in the spirit of cooperation, I shall respect your laws," Drescher stated handing the data drive over. "This drive contains our message. Do you have a way of playing it?"

"Of course. We're nomads, not primitives," the ashen-grey lystheni retorted with a sudden frown and then again with a head-tilt to the right.

"I did not mean to offend your people."

"Your ignorance is excused, Invaladrata. First contacts between different cultures are always strange experiences, for all those involved," he stuffed the drive into one of the pouches of his armor and nodded. To think that he considered this brief exchange 'first contact' already said a lot about the lystheni and how they had turned out after leaving salarian space. They were not exactly a welcoming culture. "The elders will review your message. I presume we can contact you through the same means you used to contact us?"

"Yes. We will eagerly await your response."

Drablo pulled on his helmet. After a second of being transparent, the visor polarized and he was once more sealed off from the world around him.

"Then I shall not keep you waiting longer than necessary. I will seek out the elders at once," he promised, with a suddenly far deeper, far more batarian pitch. Huh. So that explained the discrepancy between what she'd heard about lystheni sounding like and what they actually sounded like. He then respectfully bowed his head, once more confusing her on the meaning of the head-tilting from earlier. "Until our paths cross again, Admiral Drescher."

"Until our paths cross again, Emissary Captain Drablo."

As she watched the lystheni turn and leave, she hoped that this would be marked as a turning point in the IFS's history and not the moment that HSA history books celebrated as their final downfall for trusting another galactic pariah and offering them materials in exchange for information only to be conned and subsequently destroyed.


29. March 2417 AD, Citadel, Presidium

'ESC coming to the Citadel. Will keep her away from your AO if she starts to wander. - LL'

That was what the message read and Morneau instantly knew who the other specialist was referring to.

Alec's daughter.

He'd obviously known that they were fixing her up back on Cronos with the intention of undoing the damage the collectors had caused. He had after all brought her back to the station to begin with. But it was news to him that she was now up and walking again. Running into her would be a disaster. She had no idea he was on an undercover op and if she recognized him, that would be it for his cover story. So he very much appreciated Lancelot's initiative of making sure she steered clear of the districts Solomon Gunn frequented.

He read the message again, just to be sure he had understood its meaning, and then deleted it. Afterwards he returned his attention to dossier of Hock that he'd been building these past couple of days.

His life wasn't all that impressive, at least not until he'd managed to get himself kicked out of Hahne-Kedar for 'conduct unbecoming of a manager' and 'possible criminal affiliation'. Up to that point he'd just been a rich kid who'd dipped his feet into his dad's workplace. However after getting himself removed from the easy route of life, Hock's resume actually developed some character. Following his discharge from Hahne-Kedar, which he described as voluntarily, Hock had quickly turned himself into an independent, officially recognized private security entrepreneur. He had built up a network of buyers and sellers and then oversaw the exchange of everything from pistols and rifles to tanks and gunships to both PMCs like the Final Wave and security forces of independent colonies which were now either part of the CIP or had been conquered by various warring Terminus factions, the latter of which were incidentally supplied by a much more profitable, much less legitimate and very much illegal gun running operation which could never be certainly linked to Hock himself.

Still, everyone knew that Hock was the one doing it.

The spikes in his profits before every little Terminus War in the last ten years, which there were plenty to go around these days, proved that much.

If war-profiting had a face, Morneau was probably looking at it right now.

While that alone would be more than enough of a reason to bring Hock in, or at least put a bullet where the man's stupid smirk sat, what really made him interesting for the specialist was his connection to the Shadow Broker and the fact that tracking Hock down had literally been a two minute effort. When he wasn't gun-running in the Terminus or taking over kidnapping volus kids as one of the Broker's top henchmen, Donovan Hock spent his days in his private estate on an island on Bekenstein near the capitol of Milgrom. There he regularly met with other arms dealers, private military contractors, and on semi-regular occasion, even people working for his former employer, Hahne-Kedar.

He'd have to get it cleared by the director, obviously, but if Morneau could get to Bekenstein and squeeze Hock for information, he might just finish the op in two hundred days after all. Just by looking at his stupid grin, the specialist assumed that Hock wouldn't be too hard of a nut to crack.

Now all he needed to do was get permission.

Morneau pushed himself away from his desk and folded his arms behind his head just in time for his watch to buzz and inform him that it was now time to go to work. He shut off the terminal, got up, pulled open the blinds and was greeted by yet another pristine and perfect Presidium morning. Then he grabbed his bag and headed out. Today was one of the increasingly rare occasions where Wong hadn't stayed the night. She had to attend 'an important meeting' so she'd left yesterday evening. While he had been able to tell that she wasn't telling him the truth, he hadn't pushed the subject. He was sure that whatever Wong was keeping from him wasn't a threat to his mission, so he ignored it and moved on with the task at hand.

After taking the Rapid Transit to the Final Wave's HQ and entering his office level, Morneau noticed that most of his co-workers were absent today. Other than the secretary at the entrance, a few security guys and himself, no one was around. While that seemed strange, it didn't immediately set of any alarm bells in the specialist's head. It wouldn't be the first time he found out that he worked stranger hours than most other people working for the Final Wave. He logged in, read his mails and, just as he was about to seem busy, spotted his turian boss Aganian. The turian shot him a tired glance and then returned to his office. While the op on Kosh had been a success from their client's perspective, Aganian hadn't exactly taken kindly to the news that officially three of the members of the strike team had died as a result of its former leader Irna. Apparently he and Olarix had gone way back. So Olarix dying on an OP Morneau, or rather Solomon Gunn, had led didn't exactly sit well with the turian. The higher-ups and Hock might've liked the results of Kosh. But Aganian mostly saw the dead strike team and asked himself why one guy had walked away when officially, when the other three had been killed by Irna.

Why he was suddenly talking about three dead?

The answer was easy.

The undercover operative had decided to do Sixteen and himself a favor and reported the airborne as dead instead of missing. That way the Final Wave wouldn't be looking for the operative and Morneau could go ahead and claim that the exchange on the flight back to the Citadel had never happened. Although he didn't think that the former cabal doubted his narration of the events, the specialist suspected that Aganian was in equal parts grieving and frustrated.

If he were in his place, he'd probably feel the same.

But since he wasn't, Morneau simply got back to reading over the intelligence reports his posting required him to comprehend and evaluate and at one point or another got so indulged in his work that he nearly didn't hear when someone else finally entered the empty office.

Nearly.

The close call he had had with Sixteen had ensured that Morneau's focus was now back at a hundred and ten percent. When he picked up on the steps, he turned around and looked at the new arrivals. They were two humans, a man and a woman, in business suits and one turian in all-back formal wear. He couldn't place them instantly and they didn't look like they were working for the Wave, so Morneau got curious and kept observing. When they noticed him looking at them, they picked up their pace to a brisk walk and hurried into Aganian's office. That was when Morneau caught sight of the logo decorating the suitcase the woman, was carrying.

Hahne-Kedar.

Interesting.

Although he suspected that there wasn't a connection to the last Hahne-Kedar employee that he'd occupied himself with, it was enough of a reason for the specialist to take action. As soon as they were inside, Morneau looked around the office and made his move. He grabbed one of the files on the desk of his coworker, came up with a bullshit excuse that it had somehow ended up on his desk and that Aganian needed to sort this out and made his way to the office. That way he hoped to get a chance at eavesdropping on their conversation or at least getting a closer look at the three guys before they left. Since the office was rather sound-proof, entering unannounced and picking up snippets of what they were talking about before being asked to leave would've been preferable but even from his desk he could see the red glow on the door that marked it as locked. So the rude approach sadly wasn't going to work for him.

He leaned against one of the walls close to Aganian's office and waited. It took the better part of half an hour until something actually happened but if he'd learned anything over his years, it was the virtue of being patient and the knowledge that people sometimes dropped hints to their conversations when they left a room and said good-bye.

As was the case this time around.

The door opened while Morneau was looking at the files in his hand. First out was the turian, then another dark-haired and dark-skinned human. They noticed him and looked at him for a second but when they spotted the files in his hand, they probably came to the conclusion that he was just waiting to clear something with his supervisor. They didn't say anything or question how long he'd been standing there and turned to leave, exactly like Morneau wanted them to. Lastly and with a slight delay, the woman with the suitcase left the room. She caught his eyes just as he spotted her visitor pass, which gave him her name, 'Amanda Bryer' and her exact employer, Hahne-Kedar Robotics. She froze for a second when she noticed him looking at her but when he cracked a smile to diffuse the situation, she went on with what she'd intended to do and looked at Aganian for a final time.

"Our project group will eagerly await your results, Mister Aganian."

Project group.

It took him a second to remember why the wording seemed familiar but then he made the connection.

Project Group Insight. That was what the message he'd read off of the reflection of Aganian's screen before the mission on Kosh had been about. He'd meant to look into them but then Kosh and subsequently Hock and the Broker had taken priority.

Evidently the subject had just solved itself.

They were part of Hahne-Kedar.

First Hock's easy whereabouts and now this.

What a strange turn of events that he was suddenly on a lucky streak.

He was sure it wouldn't last.

"Rest assured that the Wave never disappoints," Aganian said before the woman left. That was when the turian spotted Morneau.

"Oh. Gunn. Have you been standing there long?" he asked right as he was about to close the door.

"No, just got here. I need to run something by you," Morneau replied before holding up the file.

"Alright. How can I help you?" Aganian asked before Morneau stepped inside and instantly looked to the reflective service of the glass panel that held the turian's legion banner. This time around there was no message he could read.

Damn it.

Streak over.

"I think the wrong report ended up on my desk," he explained before glancing at the location and handing Aganian the folder. "I don't remember handling ops on Thessia."

"You remember right," Aganian muttered in return before dropping it on his desk. "Bill's responsible for Thessia. I must've mixed things up when I distributed them. Sorry about that," then the turian dropped into his seat and sighed. "I guess I was in a bit of a rush because of the meeting with Hahne-Kedar."

That was entirely accurate but the tone of the statement gave Morneau reason to fake ignorance.

"So that's who those guys were?" he asked while pointing the way the three people had left.

"Yes," Aganian said while spinning in his chair. "And they're a real pain in the ass." He wasn't sure why the turian was telling him this but he'd be damned if he interrupted him now. "No offense, but I don't get why we're making deals with human companies when we could be making them with turian ones instead. I mean I like your people, but you're really not the best costumers to have. We could be making millions off of similar deals with a turian company but here we are, taking the human deal because the executives think it'll open up a new market."

"Deal for what?" Morneau inquired when Aganian stayed silent.

Evidently that question had already been too pushy.

"Nothing you'll have to break your head about, Gunn. You don't handle reports from human core space, do you?"

That more than anything got his interest.

"No. Just CIP territories," he replied to keep the conversation going. "I think Balion and Triss do HSA territory."

"Well then. Be really glad that you're not one of them right now," Aganian said with a sigh. "Those two are going to do a lot of overtime the next few months."

"That big of a deal, huh?" he said, pushing more subtly this time around.

"Like I said. Be glad that you're not one of them," the turian deflected again, telling Morneau that it was time to stop.

Solomon Gunn replied with a laugh to Aganian's statement and then went back to work because like the turian had said, it wasn't his problem to worry about.

But Daniel Morneau? He already started to work on the phrasing of the message he'd pass on to Lancelot.

Hahne-Kedar wasn't his mission, but it was definitely something worth looking into. After all, what the fuck were they doing that they wanted the Final Wave in human core space?

He dropped into his chair, moved the files on his desk aside and started to look at his vacation days and flights from the Citadel to Bekenstein.

He had a galactic arms dealer to catch.

That would require at least some planning.


Meanwhile, 29. March 2417 AD, Citadel, Presidium, Office of Councilor Udina

As requested, Shepard had sent her crew on shore leave and arrived at the office of the human councilor on her own.

'Human councilor.'

That still had a strange ring to it for her but she was sure that she'd eventually get used to it.

After being asked to enter by an aid, Emily had found the office empty and as such, taken the liberty of sitting down. Much like when he'd still been an ambassador, Udina had decorated his working place with plants. flowers, the certificates he'd earned over the years and pictures of his family, including the son she now knew had been killed in the line of duty and under the command of the late Captain Anderson some years prior to the man taking up residence on the Citadel.

But while the decoration was the same, the office was obviously not. It was a lot larger and instead of being stuffed into the heavily secured HSA embassy, it now on top of the Council chambers, which was arguably the best view to have on the Citadel. She briefly considered using the chance to enjoy the view when Udina and surprisingly enough the three other Councilors, Sparatus, Valern and Irissa entered the room.

"Commander Shepard," he greeted while she got up.

"Councilors," she replied while trying to decide if she should stand at attention or not. They were her superiors, yes, but they weren't military, were they? She shook her head, decided that that really wasn't important right now and moved on to the obvious. Why were all four of them were here? "Was I supposed to come to the Council chambers?" she guessed. That would explain the presence and make for a really bad second first impression on her part.

"No, you're exactly where you're supposed to be," Udina replied before looking at Irissa.

"As you know, we asked you here for a pressing matter. One that goes beyond your surprising but welcome return to life and is best discussed away from the prying eyes of the Council chambers," the asari said before Udina waved his hand, produced his omni-tool and lowered the blinds of his office, despite how unlikely it was for anyone to look inside he clearly wanted to be on the safe side. While the blinds lowered, the asari went on. "But before we do that, we'd like to use this chance to inform you that we have formally reinstated you as a Spectre. Your ambiguous situation might have left some doubt regarding your status so, to remove those doubts, we once more welcome you to the ranks of the Special Tactics and Reconaissance Branch. Unless you insist on it, I'll spare us all the speech that would come with it," the asari added.

"I've had it once, let's keep it at that," Shepard replied.

"Very good," she nodded before turning to Udina again. When he started speaking, she got why he'd been selected to deliver this part.

"Now. Straight to the matter at hand. We have a problem, one that goes beyond the Collector abductions you're trying to stop right now." Coming from a human, that didn't sound good.

"It concerns Sovereign," Sparatus continued. "Or rather, the pieces of Sovereign that rained down on the Citadel after it got destroyed. As you can imagine, a ship of that size exploding that close to the Citadel caused quite a lot of debris and shrapnel to rain down on the station.

"Yes. I remember the reports of the damage," those had come in just before her death. Although thousands had died in the attack, just as many had lost their lives to the debris rain that had been caused by Sovereign's explosion.

"But you weren't around for the clean-up," Valern finally injected. "Following the explosion and given the threat of indoctrination living personal would have to deal with, tens of thousands of drones sponsored by all of our governments started to pick up the pieces for containment and subsequent destruction," the salarian explained.

"Which is precisely what we want to talk to you about," Udina stated.

"I'm not sure I'm following," Emily admitted.

"While the destruction of Sovereign created a large debris hail that spread over all wards, the fact that the Citadel was nearly closed at the time allowed us a complete recovery of all surviving fragments," Irissa said. "It took us the better part of the year of the battle, but eventually, every piece that we knew of was recovered, cataloged, contained and then scheduled for incineration in a nearby, undisclosed star system. There, every piece was again logged and examined under safe conditions before being destroyed. As you can imagine, we were eager to use the chance to create a blue print of Sovereign so that we may find weaknesses in other reaper ships, if they ever return."

More like when.

"Sounds useful," Shepard replied, keeping the snarky remark to herself.

"It certainly was," Sparatus injected. "But if we'd just thrown all of it into an incinerator at once, we wouldn't have to tell you about the problem we ran into due to this extra step we took before destroying the fragments."

Shepard sighed.

A reaper and a problem?

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"No, you are not," the turian replied bluntly.

"The process finished some time ago. But our blue print is missing pieces," Irissa said. "Sixty-two, to be precise. This also includes parts of the main gun and what we believe to be Sovereign's central processing unit."

Great.

So just the most dangerous bits.

"These pieces were definitely recovered during the initial clean-up operation," Udina added. "We even know who's drones took them to which collection site. However somehow someone managed to get a hold of them in between the time they were recovered and should have been transported to the destruction site," he finished before turning silent.

She looked at the four councilors, all looked dead-serious and very frustrated all of the sudden.

"You're telling me you lost pieces of Sovereign?" she replied in disbelief after a few seconds of no one saying anything.

This was bad.

"We didn't lose them. Someone stole them," Sparatus retorted. "We just don't know which of our governments did it."

"Hold up. Our governments? What do you mean?" the N7 said.

"We have a suspicion," Udina said. "Or rather, a justified fear," then he looked at Irissa, who once more took charge of the conversation.

"The collection sites were guarded by a mixture of C-SEC and Council troops and the missing pieces come from various sites that were managed by all of our four respective governments. So the Republics, the Union, the Hierarchy and the Systems Alliance all had ample opportunity to take these pieces for themselves. And while it pains me to say it, I believe that all of our people would be capable of ignoring the dangers these fragments bring with them due to the potential power they could yield when studied and understood."

"Indoctrination", she muttered. "I don't get it. Everyone knows how dangerous reaper tech is, why would someone take the risk of studying it?"

"Because the promise of power can be incredibly tempting and far more stronger than reason," Irissa replied. "I know that you have no incentive to believe me when saying this, but the Council is the one organization that we can rule out as a suspect for the theft. We don't have a military or a unified economy that could benefit from us researching Reaper tech. We're just an executive committee, not a real government."

"But everyone else could have easily taken the pieces for those reasons," Udina went on.

"Which is why none of them have been informed of our discovery for the time being," Valern threw in. "Outside of this room, only a select number of Spectres and a hand-picked squad of C-SEC investigators have been informed of this development."

"And it will stay that way until we have accounted for all of the pieces," Sparatus finished before all four looked at Shepard.

Her eyes narrowed, not because she didn't believe them but because she understood the implications of what they were saying.

A few moments later, Udina continued and spoke those implications out loud.

"You understand how dangerous the reapers are, more than anyone else. So we saw it fit to give you this warning and put faith in your silence, even towards your closest allies. With this discovery, the circle of people that we can trust when the reapers arrive has grown very small and until we find out who took the pieces, it will have to stay that way."

She sighed.

"What do you need me to do?"

"For now, nothing," Sparatus said. "Like Valern mentioned, a number of our most trusted operatives and a hand-picked group of C-SEC investigators are working the problem."

"Then why tell me this?"

"Because you were dead when it happened, so we can rule out that you had anything to do with," the turian stated. "But I can't say the same for the people you're working with right now. We both know them and we both would like to believe that they had nothing to do with it. But that's a luxury we can't afford to work with right now," Shepard clenched her jaw. She didn't want to think about Harper, Arterius or even Kirrahe as being indoctrinated, but Sparatus had a point.

They couldn't know for sure.

"What we're asking of you right now is that you watch your back, no matter who you're with or how much you think you can trust them," Udina stated. "Like I said, our circle of allies has grown very small at this point. We need to be careful, now more than ever," he stated before the asari councilor stepped forward, a small cube in her hand.

"This is a communication device we normally only use among councilors. It can create a nearly instantaneous connection from just about anywhere in the galaxy by accessing an underlying network of the comm-buoy network reserved for emergency communication. You can use it to reach any of us any time," Irissa stated before dropping the device into Shepard's palm. "I know the Council and particularly I haven't always seen eye to eye with you. I may have even tried to limit your operational freedom during the hunt for Saren. But please, heed this warning, no matter how dramatic it sounds," suddenly, she closed Shepard's hand so that it formed a fist and then Irissa stared directly into her eyes with a set of purple orbs. "Trust no one. Not even your closest allies. If they were involved in the theft of these pieces and suffered a fate similar to Saren's, the people you remember from two years ago no longer exist."

Then the asari let go of her hand and Shepard swallowed down deep while feeling the small cube in her palm.

Trust no one?

Talk about ending a meeting on a sour note.

"Be careful, Commander," Udina muttered.


Meanwhile, 2158 CE, Enroute to the Migrant Fleet

"How is he?" Tali asked while looking at the quarian lying in the makeshift infirmary that the marines had built.

"Lucky. His condition is bad, but not life threatening," the medic, a quarian female who was two years older than Tali and went by the name of Qasa'Reva, replied. "There are signs of an on-setting infection with human germs in his lungs. But the immune boosters his suit pumped into him are keeping him among the living, for now at least. If we make it back to the fleet on time, he'll live."

Tali looked at Veetor and what little she could see of his face through the transparent replacement mask that the marines had given him. His grey skin had lost some of its color and turned a shade whiter as a result but other than that, he looked at peace. His eyes were closed and he wasn't screaming, at least not anymore. The panic attack that had begun on Freedom's Progress had not stopped on their own, so the marine medic had sedated Veetor after reading the copy of his medical file stored in suit and determining that the history of similar episodes that Veetor had indicated that he wouldn't stop on his own, especially not after an extreme experience like the one on Freedom's Progress.

"Tell me if something changes," Tali said, getting a nod from Qasa. Then she moved back to the cockpit of their freighter.

"How much longer?" she asked their pilot Prazza.

"If she holds up and the don't move, we'll meet up with the fleet in a couple of days," he replied. Then he looked back the way Tali had come from. "Will he make it that long?"

"Hopefully," she replied before sitting down in one of the empty seats of the cockpit.

They needed Veetor to pull through, not just because of the mission her father had given her but also because as of now, only Veetor seemed to have a grasp of why the geth were leaving the Veil. She thought back to what he'd told her in the presence of Commander Shepard.

"They were called here," she muttered, repeating his words. That was his exact phrasing and it gave her reason to think.

Called by whom?

"Sorry. What was that?" Prazza quipped from his pilot seat.

"Nothing, nothing," she replied. "Just talking to myself."


Meanwhile, 2158 CE, Perseus Veil Threshold

One thousand one hundred and eighty-three programs finished their debate and with a fifty one percent majority voting in favor of making the transit, consensus to the next action of the platform had been reached.

Mission success of their predecessors was currently sitting at zero percent. None had returned, all had been deactivated.

Therefore the odds of their own success were also likely to be zero percent and the odds of a violent deactivation of this platform neared a hundred percent.

They sent the impulse to the programs inhabiting the ship around them and then, after the ship reached its own consensus, made the transit and left their home, the Perseus Veil, behind.

Their task was clear.

They had to make their attempt, even if no one would listen.

The warning had to be sent.

Otherwise they would be deactivated without ever knowing what caused the error that led to their premature termination.


Codex: State of Galactic Exploration

Up until the Rachni Wars (See Codex Entry 'Rachni Wars 1CE - 11 CE' and Codex Entry 'Rachni Wars 11CE - 28 CE'), the spacefaring races followed a systematic and unrestricted manner of exploration, opening relays and mapping new systems as often as it became necessary and as often as it was affordable. However in the wake of the conflict, which was caused by the opening of a relay leading to Rachni space, the Council outlawed the opening of new Mass Relay without its approval and prior safety measures such as a heavy military presence in the event of an opening. As a result of this, over ninety percent of the galaxy as it is mapped by the Council today, excluding the parts added by First Contact with new species who were unaware of this law prior to meeting the Council, was explored prior to the year 1 CE.

Due to this, most of the Council species star charts, except for the regions added through first contact events, have not been expanded in over two thousand years.

While made illegal by the Council and strictly enforced by Council security forces, first and foremost the turian Patrol Fleets, it is estimated, and in some cases proven, that other factions, mostly within the Terminus Systems but also on several independent colonies, have continuously opened new relays after the Rachni Wars.

Therefore it is believed that in addition to the officially mapped galaxy, which is referred to as the 'Explored Regions', about a third of the remaining 'Unexplored Regions', which makes up nearly half of all estimated mass relay connections in the galaxy, have been opened in the last two thousand years. This would mean that there are thousands of uncharted star systems that the Council is not aware of.

Due to it being nearly impossible to tell when relay first became active once it is actually activated, the only indication of a recent activation is orbital debris such as in the case of the human Charon Rely, which was surrounded by ice debris for nearly fifty years.

As such no one can reliably say which newly discovered relays were opened when or by whom and enforcement of the Prohibition of Relay Activation is limited to offenses 'caught on site'. This means that prosecution can only occur in the rare occasion that a patrol fleet encounters a ship in the process of relay activation. Ever since the law was passed in 29 CE (287 AD), this has officially only occurred twelve times.

Although the Council takes care to regularly try and procure maps from within the Terminus, the highly volatile structure of the region and the lack of a consistent government has led to the common occasion that the faction which opened a relay and mapped that part of the galaxy is no longer in existence by the time the Council becomes aware of the opening. Furthermore there is a large market for forged maps with little to no accuracy.

The only groups who are believed to have reliably mapped larger parts of the Unexplored Regions are the Quarian Migrant Fleet, the Batarian Hegemony and the roaming lystheni tribes, who are known to have withdrawn into the Unexplored Regions entirely.

Due to the deteriorated relationship between them and the Council, none have been willing to share their knowledge.

Rumors that the human separatists movement knowns as the Independent Fringe Systems opened and expanded into the Unexplored Regions during and after the Fringe Wars (See Codex Entry 'Fringe Wars') have been dismissed by official HSA sources as 'highly unlikely'.


A/N:

So. Here we are, 81.

Now you know what the Council had to deal with and you get a hint as to what's causing the geth to leave the Veil. As you probably expected... both are VERY bad situations.

In case the number of programs didn't give it away, yes, the last segment is about Legion setting out on his task.

Other than that, what do we have this chapter?

We got Kaidan who's still missing. (I really wonder what that guy's been up too)

We got the IFS dealing with the lystheni in their own reaper investigation. (Yes, I made the salarians a tad chinese and the lystheni a tad mongolian and yes, I know that it's not exactly subtle, especially if you read On Wings of Glory, which I published a few days ago as part of SV:Anthologies, the other story on my profile.)

We got Morneau preparing for Hock and Bekenstein and dreaming about the Broker's downfall (prematurely maybe? Who knows.)

We got Hahne-Kedar doing shady shit (like they've pretty much been doing the entirety of SV:Mass Effect 2)

And we got Tali on her way to the Migrant Fleet. (With a Veetor who will hopefully live)

Damn. Except for Arrvial and Vega's IFS plot, I think I covered every plotline we worked with right now.

That's a lot happening at once. Especially after I casually dropped the Sovereign bombshell on your heads.

Time to play the "who done it" and "who's the indoctrinated victim" games all over again. :))))

But since we're hitting the point where the plotlines are starting to converge together to a mostly connected narrative and build-up to the Reaper war, its necessary.

Although I will say one thing right from the get go.

We already had TWO MASSIVE red-herrings regarding those two particular games. So while there might have already been a major clue as to who did it, not all is as it seems.

Or is it?

Who knows?

Wait.

That's right.

I do.

That's right guys.

The asshole part of me who teased you in A/Ns back in the day of Saren and Anderson is back in charge of writing A/Ns.

So.

Just like Irissa said.

Be careful from here on out.

For the record we're at 664 reviews, 1048 favorites and 1147 follows.

I wonder when we'll crack 1100 and 1200 respectivly.

See you around next time.