Jacob Krieger smiled.
It had been two days since the Council's so-called order. And humanity had retaliated. Krieger had gone Ward to Ward, gathering his supporters in the streets. He had already led a few stray attacks on various C-Sec outposts. Reaching into the corporate world, Krieger had the Sirta Foundation pull out completely, taking medi-gel with it. Other human companies followed suit, one after the other. A well-organized motion of pulling the proverbial rug out from underneath the alien economy.
It would show the Council what they would miss dearly if they decided to screw over humanity.
Their money and medicine.
The man could hear the collective wave of one thousand voices, voices of menand women. Human men and women. Thousands more would hear Krieger's voice via the radio and a few select pirate vid channels.
One of his many assistants approached him, "Mister Krieger, you're on in fifteen."
Slowly adjusting his tie, the man marched towards the main stage, grin still on his face.
It this very moment that reminded Krieger of his previous life. Once he wanted to work alongside the turians, salarians, and asari. He wanted to help form a galactic trust through corporate unity and expansion. Pouring money into political campaigns that supported the integration of all species, even Krieger himself making several personal appearances to various political functions.
He spent so much, putting in years of his life trying to secure humanity's future…
And the aliens betrayed him. Betrayed everyone.
Now, Krieger devoted himself to one goal, and one goal only. Bringing them down. The man was willing to do whatever it took, whether it be through the corporate side, which was already in motion, or through the human citizens still living on this very station.
So he sent ripples through the extranet, calling for human citizens who refused to be bullied from their only stable home, to come out and show their 'rulers' that mankind wouldn't roll over and play dead for the Council.
The moment he pressed a foot on that stage, the crowed erupted in applause. Krieger threw his arms into the air like some sort of gladiator after killing the lion, and the thralls of citizens rose to their feet, applause became full-on cheering. A few began chanting his name, but as he approached the center, the crowd silenced themselves.
Krieger kept his grin going as he addressed the crowd, his strong voice resonating throughout the Ward, "Citizens! Welcome to a moment in history!" The thralls reacted, confused. Krieger enlightened them, "Not a joyous moment, mind you. What has been committed against humanity can only be judged as a crime of historic proportions. A betrayal!"
Shouts of agreement, more clapping and hollering.
Krieger knew they believed every word he said, because he believed it. He had felt betrayed, like the Council species turned their backs on him and the rest of his race.
"They want to force you from your homes! To send back out into a universe that you all know too well!" Many humans that were sent to the Citadel five years back were from devastated colonies, where either civil war had destroyed their homes, or batarian slavers. Krieger had been part of the rich few sent to the station, where before he had a somewhat secure life on Mars.
But he had seen the destruction the wars and slavers had caused. He knew what the people before him had gone through.
His grin disappeared, "Now, like you, I don't want to leave! I've built a life here and I'm willing to fight for it!" An explosion of approval, encouraging Krieger to point out into the crowd, then into the cameras that were watching him, "Who else is willing to fight for their homes!"
A thousand voiced answered, sending echoes throughout the Citadel. Krieger hoped the Council heard this.
"This is a message! To all humans on the Citadel! If you wish to stay, if you truly believe you were wronged, then fight! Fight against those who wish to remove you, against those who wish to make you just another bad memory!"
Turning back where from where he came, Krieger knew he did his job. The crowd began to chant his name again as he left the stage, one thousand voices in unison.
"Krieger! Krieger! Krieger!"
Just before he disappeared from the crowd's collective view, Krieger threw a hand up and waved to the crowd.
Stepping down from the stage, another assistant approached him, "Superb speech, Mister Krieger. Your shuttle is waiting for you."
Thanking the assistant, Krieger made his way for the rear alleyway. Two of his partners were waiting for him, humans, of course. Walter, a tall, burly man from what was left of Earth, and Saul, a thinner lad who used to run with the Alliance. The first one approached him immediately.
"Well it looks like you got the crowd here on your side, sir." Walter stated confidently.
Krieger merely nodded, out of breath as he wiped away the small drops of sweat that appeared on his brow. He then held out his hand, which Walter placed a holo-pad brimming with new data. "How's everything coming along?"
Saul answered quickly as the three headed towards the waiting shuttle at the end of the alley, "ExoGeni pulled out an hour ago, as well as Hahne-Kedar. Armstrong Solutions and Terran Dynamics are cutting off and packing up as we speak, Fourth World Element is liquidating as well."
That many companies, which had quickly established themselves as powerhouses on the Citadel during their five year tenure, would prove disastrous to the local economy once they pulled out.
"They'll be turning on each other like dogs going for the last bit of steak." Walter added, enjoyment littered his voice.
Something told Krieger that the Council did not think their plan entirely through, and that brought another smile to his face.
He could imagine the Council on their knees, pleading with him for mercy as mankind brought the Citadel to its knees. A pleasant image, sure, but something in the back of his mind cautioned him to remain wary. One hundred thousand humans on a space station of thirteen million didn't inspire confidence.
But regardless of the numbers, Krieger relaxed as he eased himself into the shuttle, which was off to a private suite on the Presidium. There he'd post more of his little speeches on the extranet and overlook the impending collapse of the alien economy.
Jacob Krieger smiled.
Today was a good day.
Gavin was drunk. He knew that, the people around him knew that.
And he didn't care.
Of course, drinking through a quarter of his stock wouldn't be good for business. But then again, most of his human customers were gone, and he locked the doors whenever the cops decided to poke around. So screw it all, Gavin was going to get drunk, right here in his own bar.
Who was going to stop him?
"Gavin?"
"Shit." The barkeep slurred. Why Zynn, of all people? Nosey turians…
"Gavin, I know you're in there. Come on man, let me in." His voice was calm, sympathetic. Like he really wanted to know what was going on.
Too bad Gavin kept all the doors locked, too bad he wasn't very trusting of good ol' C-Sec officers right now. Probably here to drag him away, maybe back to the Von Braun or worse…Mindoir.
The thought of that damned colony sent Gavin into a brief panic. Harsh memories of his birthplace still plagued him like a constant swarm of locust.
A serene place for the longest time, protected by their Alliance 'guardians,' only to have batarians drop right in the second the Alliance garrison packed up and left for a mining colony. Gavin watched, a teenager at the time, as his parents were both killed. His brother was enslaved, friends too. A pirate found him when Gavin tried hiding in his home's basement, only to be laughed at.
He was too scrawny, weak in the eyes of that alien. So the pirate shot him in both legs and left him to bleed out.
And then they found Rita.
His best friend, a girl he once thought he truly loved, was dragged before him. That pirate had his way with her, while Gavin couldn't even stand to defend her. Then they dragged her away.
It wasn't until three hours later that an Alliance scouting unit showed up, eventually finding the bleeding-out teenager.
"You're not taking me back, Zynn."
"Back? Gav, I just want to talk, man. I'm not taking you anywhere. I'm not even on duty right. Just let me in."
He wasn't going away. Not this time.
Sighing, Gavin lifted his omni-tool and released the locks to the front door. The cop quickly stepped through.
The odor of alcohol hit him like a club, "Spirits, Gav. It reeks in here." The Sergeant's eyes found the empty bottles on the floor, even more littered the table that his friend took refuge at.
The moment Gavin looked up, the turian froze in his tracks. Gavin looked like crap, and that was putting it lightly. His hair was unkempt, eyes red, dark circles under those eyes, his clothes were wrinkled, and reeked of the same alcohol that his bar permeated in.
Shaking his head, the officer sighed and pulled up a seat next to his friend. "Taking the news hard?"
Gavin feigned offense, pressing a finger against his chest, eyes wide.
"Me? Take the news hard?" He chuckled. "Taking news that my entire species is getting bullied out a home that I've only known for a few years? Nahhh. I just get this drunk for fun. It's what the kids are into, I think."
"I came here to help you out, Gav. Not to be treated like shit." Zynn stated, pointing a sharp talon towards the barkeep.
Gavin just chuckled again, taking another sip from the whiskey he had, "What about that Krieger guy, huh? Saw him on the vids not an hour ago. He's here to fight for us insignificant humans, telling us we should fight alongside him." Lifting his shotgun onto the table, he smiled as Zynn glared at the weapon, "And I'm seriously thinking about helping out, if you catch my drift."
"Krieger is spewing hate speech now, Gavin. Nothing more than a racist." Zynn said slowly.
"Yeah, bash the one man willing to fight for the rest of us." Gavin dismissed, taking another swig of his drink.
Zynn pointed towards the vid screen, muted now but still displayed images of Jacob Krieger on it, "That man wants violence as a solution, Gavin. There are other ways to settle this."
"Like what? Packing up and leaving in three days?" The man hissed, squeezing the glass in his hand. His knuckles turned bone-white.
Zynn didn't know what to say. Honestly he didn't. Gavin was one of his best friends, seeing him like this was a little shocking.
Nothing like the cool-headed bartender four years ago, who helped the cop take down a few unruly punks who refused to be cuffed quietly. No, now Gavin something else, something bad.
He was angry, drunk, and looking to a man that spoke of violence and taking up arms against the Council.
Zynn stood and turned for the door, only to have Gavin's voice follow him, "What? You spend all the trouble, annoying me at my door, coming in here, and now you're just walking out?"
"I'll come back when you got the balls to sober up." Zynn harshly stated. "Until then, enjoy your whiskey alone. You know my number. Call me when you actually want to talk."
With that the cop walked out of the bar and into the Ward, the night air filling his lungs again. It was cool and clean, but something else was in the air that evening. An air of change, as some would describe it. Unpleasant change.
Change that would produce blood.
Pretty short, I know. Hope you enjoyed regardless. Get ready for big stuff coming up.
In other news, updated my profile, actually putting information on it, so if you're interested, you can go read that. Maybe check out some of my other stuff…wink wink, nudge nudge.
Peace.