The post-victory celebrations are sweeping across the masses of people as they rejoice at the destruction of Sovereign and the defeat of Saren. The reformed Citadel Council is scrambling to rebuild the damages to the center of the galactic government, while quelling the various dissenting voices from the member races. Optimism and determination fills the populace, as the press releases and official reports create new heroes to stand against the cold onslaught of unfeeling machines. Men and women like Nihlus Kryik, Tela Vasir, Admirals Vipsania and Hackett, and Alexander Shepard become almost household names practically overnight, the politicians scrambling to capitalize on personal connections to them or to gain their support for their own agendas.
Yet for all that merriment, that hopeful view, dark things are stirring in the void and within the hearts of the galactic society. As the Council races slowly spin up their war machines, intent on eradicating the geth for all, there are those who work to turn that effort to their petty advantage. The secrets behind the newly started military buildup are not nearly as well hidden in shadows as the powers that be would like. The unknown entity that corrupted Saren and the geth is slowly but inexorably drawing closer to enact its will upon the mostly-unsuspecting galaxy.
The faint, distant laughter of thirsting gods echoes faintly in the distance, as the calm before the storm becomes ever more strained, the starry void already rumbling with the sounds of carnage and conflict.
Part II – Right of Deception
Anadius System (15/03/2183 - a week after the First Battle of the Citadel)
Jack Harper smiled with genuine pleasure as he leaned back in his chair, watching the ever-shifting patterns of the surface of Anadius. The view of the star and the void felt calming to him as always; here he felt at home, more ready to make plans, to orchestrate the fulfilment of the vision of Cerberus. And he could not deny that his present company was also a serious contributor to his happiness.
"He did better than we hoped for, even with leaving the old Council alive. With Udina a member and the quarians in our debt, humanity's position is stronger than ever before. But still, it is likely not enough." The voice was a husky contralto, and Jack allowed his gaze to drift from the star's surface to the rather striking figure standing at the viewport in a crisp navy uniform adorned with the insignia of a captain.
"We may have serious influence in the Council, but currently, Shepard seems to be our best bet."
"Yes, but officially, he is being sent to fight geth." The woman snorted. "I know that's mostly just smoke and mirrors, and that Hackett means well, but come on. We both know that the geth are not the real threat, not by a long shot. The Reapers and their controller are still out there."
A drag from the cigar.
"And it's up to us to stop them, wouldn't you say?"
The woman turned towards him, narrowed emerald eyes boring into artificial blue ones.
"The Council would not trust Cerberus. Hell, the Alliance does not trust Cerberus. Neither will accept open help from us, even after all that humanity did."
She touched a screen, enlarged the picture of the first human Spectre, a small satisfied smile on her lips, her whole stance radiating pride and affection.
"But they'll listen to Alex. He's a hero, on his way to becoming a damned icon." She shook her head, her smile turning rueful. "But he's just one man, despite all his considerable accomplishments. If we lose him, humanity might not have enough time to procure alternatives, especially since both Yildirim and Pieterzoon dropped off the grid."
Another drag from the cigar, a puff of smoke exhaled.
"Then we'd better see to it that we don't lose him." His smile turned predatory, as his gaze flitted over streams of data, looking for patterns, opportunities, feasible assets. He sighed, and took a sip from his glass, before leaning back.
"You have that look again, Jack. Out with it."
"I think I can find a way to convince Matriarch Trellani to argue for a small, joint human-asari task force touring some of the smaller colonies having asari presence in the Terminus."
She tilted her head to the side, frowned in thought.
"That could work, but you'd have to be very persuasive for Admiral Singh to detach the Orizaba for that kind of duty." She snorted as she saw his raised eyebrows and incredulous stare, and her voice gained an edge of dangerous growl. "Honestly, Jack - did you think for a moment that I would stand aside forever? That I would always place duty and regulations over my personal feelings?" She prowled closer, a hand alighting on the back of the Cerberus leader's chair, the metal warping under her grip. Emerald eyes shone with a furious passion as she glared at him. "Did you think that I would always ignore my own damned son, just because that's needed for your plans?"
He did not break eye contact, and remained calm, even though it took a greater effort of will than he thought.
"No, Hannah. I may have held a small amount of hope for that, but we are only human." He flashed a wan smile at her. "After all, if we were not prone to failures of self-control, it is likely that your son would be rather different."
The only warning he got was the flare of fury and something else in those green eyes, then her slap almost threw him from his chair, before she leaned close, their faces only a few inches apart as flashing green eyes glared into cool, detached blues, the air crackling between the two of them.
A chime sounded from the control panel, indicating an incoming call. Not breaking the contact or their gaze, the Illusive Man forced his voice to be calm, detached, as he opened a voice-only comm channel.
"Yes, Miss Chambers?"
"Your other appointment is here, sir. Shall I send him in?"
For a second, he was tempted to say no, before Hannah decided for him. With a glare that promised future retribution, she stood up, took a step to the side and was once more the picture of military grace and efficiency. After all, the other caller arrived on her ship. Jack signalled his yeoman that she could allow the visitor to enter, and he considered the newcomer for the few moments it took for the man to cross the office and reach Jack and Hannah. He could feel the woman's surprise as he rose from his chair and extended a hand towards the other man.
"Welcome, Captain Ryder. I invited you here to talk to you about the Andromeda Initiative."
Khar'shan, Hegemon's palace (16/03/2183)
Captain Balak was torn between elation and dread as he obeyed the summons of Admiral Gromel, and presented himself at the audience chamber of the Hegemon. He pondered the possible reasons for this trek - although he was a proud and distinguished member of the warrior caste, with several successful operations under his belt (including killing a team of those accursed N7s), his family was not nearly important enough for such a personal audience. He frowned in thought. Maybe it was due to those mysterious new allies that have been speculated about amongst External Force operatives - of course, there was nothing definite available about them, the Department of Information Control was as useful as always. And the fact that he was outside Hegemony space for the last months, tracking Alliance and Council fleet movements did not help his awareness of the Khar'shan situation. Still, he could not recall any misdeed or failure that would merit such a censure, so he managed to get himself into a more positive mood by the time he reached the audience chamber.
As usual, the security was extremely tight, and Balak was stripped of his weapons and armor before he was allowed into the presence of the Hegemon. In a deep corner of his mind, he scoffed at the paranoia - as if anyone could take on the Hegemon in a straight fight! Still, he obeyed the guards with alacrity, showing proper respect and deference - and then he stepped into the vast, shadowed chamber, where only the throne of the Hegemon and the Pillars of Strength shone with soft light, creating an aura of otherworldliness around the glorious batarian seated on the throne.
Balak saluted, symbolically offering his heart and life to the Hegemon, using the privilege allotted to members of his caste, and locked his eyes on his leader, his heart soaring at the magnificent perfection of the powerful, regal figure on his throne, the four golden eyes staring at him with the wisdom of ages, unfathomable power in every gesture of the man. Balak suppressed the urge to fall to his knees in adoration, that was what lower castes did, a warrior had to be stronger than that. Looking at the Hegemon, he was once again struck by the ridiculousness of anyone trying to attack the perfect warrior. The mere thought of such stupidity almost made him chuckle.
Face schooled into a stony mask of determination, he approached the throne, only noting Admiral Gromel's presence when the other batarian seemed to materialize from the shadows. Balak saluted once more, his superior returning the gesture with a measure of respect. The luminous being above them gestured, and the admiral spoke.
"Captain Balak, you are to be commended for your efforts in the last months. You have shown proper skill and determination in executing the directives set forth by the Hegemon while also adhering to the proper forms required by the Pillars." He smiled a predator's grin, the malice obvious, just like the fact that it was not directed at Balak. "Thus, you have been selected for an important assignment."
Balak saluted.
"If the Hegemon commands me through you, I obey."
Their lord gestured once again, and a screen came alive on the wall, displaying a system that was familiar to the captain. The admiral nodded in affirmation.
"I see you recognized the place, captain Balak. Good." His omnitool flashed, and the view zoomed in to the vast shipyard, and Balak's eyes narrowed, a hiss of fury slipping from his mouth before he could control himself.
"Yes, that was about my reaction as well. Would you concur with our intelligence analysts in saying that there are two dreadnoughts and three, possibly four carriers being built right now?"
Balak studied the screen for a few seconds, calculating size, looking for patterns, shapes, then nodded.
"Yes, admiral, that would be my estimate as well." He closed his mouth before he could go on, not wanting to breach protocol by offering unwanted opinion. His jaw dropped when the magnificent figure on the throne made another gesture, its meaning known to all members of the warrior caste, yet at the same time, everyone knew how infrequently it was employed. Balak risked a glance at the admiral for confirmation on what he saw, and Gromel nodded with a very faint smile.
"Speak, captain. You would not have been invited if your opinion was not valued."
Balak bowed, first towards the Hegemon, then to the admiral.
"Lords, I suspect there is something off with these human ships, particularly the dreadnought. They don't look like their new Kilimanjaro-class vessels, the profile and shape is different. Admittedly, it is subtle, but the difference is there."
"Good, captain. Now, what would you deduce from these schematics?" A gesture from the admiral's omnitool, and the view changed, displaying weapon schematics. Balak studied them for half a minute, before he shook his head.
"Those data can't be right. The damn humans could not have developed this. There is no way to provide enough power, unless..." Balak frowned, then swallowed. "Unless they use their Yutani-Yi reactors for power." The admiral nodded, and Balak had to swallow again. "Then, lord, this would be a dreadnought-scale positron cannon."
The admiral nodded once, before turning towards the Hegemon.
"That is the conclusion of the analysts as well. This presents a dire threat for the Hegemony, Lord."
"As our allies predicted, admiral." Golden eyes flared. "Now, enlighten captain Balak about his assignment."
The admiral saluted once again, gestured with his omnitool. Screens lit up, and Balak was inundated by the torrent of information and details displayed on them, as his eyes flitted over the monitors, trying to absorb at least a rough idea about what was displayed - yet the one thing that was the most striking to him was the extreme detail. Ground patrols, emergency channels, encryption keys, command roster - he caught and processed only glimpses of the vast amount of information, but that was enough for now.
"We will conduct a proper briefing later, captain. For now, hear the directive of the Hegemon. You will lead a force to Terra Nova, and destroy the shipyards" a flash of the omnitool, and the system view filled the largest screen. "By redirecting the asteroid designated as X57 to a collision course with the planet. You will be allowed to select your troops personally."
Balak saluted, his body language betraying his hesitation. The Hegemon noticed.
"You were granted leave to speak your mind, captain - and you can do so without fear of repercussion. I suggest you do so now."
The captain swallowed, then snapped to attention.
"Lord, while the sheer detail and amount of information is excellent for planning purposes, and the admiral's gracious offer about troops eliminates that worry, I still cannot see how we could get close enough. Our own ships would be detected and destroyed before we could get close enough to launch shuttles; we would simply throw away quality troops. I believe a ballistic strike from the outer system would fail as well due to the Alliance defenses."
He closed his eyes for a second, before once again meeting the gaze of the Hegemon.
"Lord, I will lead the task force if commanded, but I strongly advise that we seek an alternative, as we do not have the means to get to the asteroid's surface."
A very faint sound drew his attention, a strange, faint buzzing, as if immense insect wings were beating a rapid rhythm. His eyes narrowed into the deep shadows of the throne room, where he could perceive a darker shape stepping closer from the base of a Pillar.
For a moment, Balak could not place the strange figure; he was sure that he has seen or heard of similar creatures in the Terminus … but they were supposed to be legends. The insectile humanoid stepped closer to them, its four eyes glowing with merciless yellow light, and a deep bass voice echoed in the chamber.
"THE ANSWER TO THAT PROBLEM NECESSITATES OUR DIRECT INTERVENTION, CAPTAIN BALAK."
Zakera Ward, Citadel (16/03/2183)
They always came at night. Of course, that was their nature, their domain - even in the regulated, artificial cycles of the Citadel, they came at night, and there was precious little defense against them, especially after the recent events.
Cyclopean spires and towers gleamed in the dark depths like the teeth of voracious deep-sea predators, hungry for the souls and sanity of the unwary explorers, the siren song of vast knowledge and power too alluring for most to resist.
Colors and smoke swirled in lazy columns on the sky over a mist-shrouded city whose peacefulness was a facade covering secrets from beyond the gulf of time, the weight of ages settling with an immense, soul-numbing pressure on everything.
A darkened pathway leading from a snowy mountainside to the bowels of the earth, into the womb of the world and beyond, until the arrival to a distant, cold plateau under foreign, unknown stars that glared down at the surface with alien menace.
A black pyramid under a sky dominated by a vast black hole in time, space and reality, the moaning, squirming sentinels impaled on rows and rows of stakes still horribly alive despite being long dead and rotting.
A cold, dark, brilliant being of engines, machines, compassionless intelligence and self-interest, the triumphant ascendance of the immense draconic shape burned away by a storm of golden light and a storm of lightning.
A pair of glowing emerald eyes under greying red hair, staring with implacable determination, without compassion, cold and distant - only distant, faint, subtle signs that this is a facade, and only when everything has turned to void-hardened ice.
A dark chamber full of needles, cables and restraints, its embrace, its very being carrying a promise of pain and knowledge, before the jaws of the iron maiden snap shut, and there is only darkness, made only more terrifying by the flashes of gold in the distance, the waves of power and knowledge searing into the brain, threatening memories, self, soul.
Words and sounds written in blood and other fluids on skin-bound ancient folios, their meanings and implications pulling the mind towards the yawning vortex of insanity at the center of everything; the price and lure of power and knowledge echoing in the void.
A beautiful, elegant woman clad in silk, her face a cold mask of concentrated fury and disdain, a violin under her chin, her bow flashing over the strings as the audience and reality bleeds and the chorus of the tormented screams provides an unholy counterpoint to the hauntingly beautiful music of the spheres flashing from the instrument.
Sparkling blue eyes shaded by a golden mane, affection and happiness drowning in a blanket of golden warmth. Other faces, some smiling, some scowling, some furious or envious, a cacophony of impressions howling across the dark, with the underlying concept of loyalty embedded deep within.
Fire, blood, and blades in dark tunnels under the surface of an ill-fated distant moon, the command of a cold, distant voice echoes in the depths as the ritual circle is closed once again, the words of power falling from burned lips, and then there is only a tide of darkness, whispers, eyes, teeth and blood, drowning and consuming all in its path, flooding the tunnels, coming straight for…
Liara awoke with a throat sore from screaming, her omnitool flashing to indicate a recently arrived message. She took a shuddering breath, trying hard to focus and get her breathing under control, to banish the images haunting her dreams since the day of Sovereign's destruction. A treacherous corner of her mind pinpointed the other, more logical reason for the visions, but she did her level best to ignore the insistent voice. She may have been inexperienced, her feeling unrequited and perhaps truly only a short-term crush typical of maidens, but she would not betray that single moment of weakness when he let down his guard in the moment of triumph.
She closed her eyes, centered herself, running through the meditative exercises taught to her so long ago by her mother, and reasoned calmness returned slowly. She reached for her omnitool, opening the message, and despite her tiredness and the nightmares, did not suppress the small smile as she saw his invitation to Flux - and then she chuckled ruefully when she realized that the party was for the whole Normandy crew.
With a sigh, she typed a quick affirmative, and a query about the study session the two of them planned for the afternoon - and which was becoming a recurring, awaited part of her daily routine. She frowned in thought as she considered the implications of her telling Shepard about her nightmares - and she knew that sooner or later, she would have to be honest with him, tell him that she saw a part of his memories. Though considering his surprisingly broad knowledge, he might have puzzled it out already, and was just being polite by not embarrassing her…
Liara shook her head, the speculation was useless. She had work to do - even though nobody had officially given her the assignment, she did her best to look for clues and tracks the Normandy could later explore in their search for the trail of Saren and Sovereign.
Spectre Offices, Citadel (16/03/2183)
If not for the tension crackling in the air, Tela Vasir would have laughed the blue off her ass at the situation - really, it was quality material for stupid jokes the humans usually invented and were about unlikely groups of beings walking into a bar. Even with her more than two centuries within the Spectre Corps, this group took the cake when it came to strangeness. As she was leaning back in her chair, she let her eyes wander around the conference table, taking in and assessing her colleagues sitting there.
Jondum Bau, the salarian who was no longer the informal leader of the Spectre Corps, and whose cold determination and willingness to destroy the Citadel to deny victory to Saren left even Tela a little in awe.
Nihlus Kryik she regarded with a faint, fond smile. The man was doing well now that he was finally out of Saren's shadow, and his defense of the Council Tower was already an unofficial part of the future training packages.
Alexander Shepard, the current darling of the masses for his defeat of Saren - and in light of his performance during the whole crisis and what she knew about N7s, Tela considered that he earned that fame and adoration. She smirked to herself when she considered the reactions of the hidebound Matriarchs and Justicars back on Thessia when they would come knocking for Benezia's spawn, and Shepard would likely throw them out the nearest airlock. Her smirk turned vicious. In fact, she just might help the human with that - or provide an alibi for him.
Urdnot Wrex was another first - no krogan was even considered for Spectre candidacy, but after a quick research she conducted through informal channels, Tela considered the krogan who was strongly suspected of having broken Omega's famous rule (in more ways than one) and lived to tell about it (not that he ever did) to be the best candidate for the first krogan Spectre. Not to mention that he was likely one of the few remaining battlemasters with a vision for their race that did not involve throwing themselves at everyone to avenge past grievances.
All things considered, things were promising to become rather interesting, and she chuckled softly as she watched the ongoing staring match between Bau and Wrex.
"We fought a war for your kind, died in millions to vanquish the rachni and the Council repaid us with the genophage, dooming us to a slow, lingering death. Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch your females and unborn children die, unable to do anything to help?" The krogan's voice was soft, polite, controlled; yet Tela could not stop a shiver down her spine at the sheer menace and tightly controlled wrath behind it. "Does any of that seem right to you?"
"Wrex, we have been over this." The asari nodded towards Nihlus when the turian managed not to flinch under the warlord's baleful stare at his interruption. "The krogan could have slowed down their reproduction, to appear just a little less aggressive..."
"Irrelevant. Not here to play blame game or pick at old wounds." Bau's voice was cold, his gaze not wavering from Wrex. "Don't care about past actions. Cannot alter them, and would not anyway. Decisions seemed right at that time." A sharp exhale, a quick shake of the head. "Precious little time to argue. Wrex, you are a Spectre. Tell me what you need to do what must be done."
The old warlord glared at Bau for a few moments longer, before he let out a rumbling chuckle.
"You do got a quad, Bau." He keyed his datapad, the viewscreen displaying a list of resources.
There was a short silence as the other four Spectres contemplated the display, then Shepard turned towards Wrex.
"Did you drink one too many bottles of ryncol, Wrex?"
"No."
"Did you get hit on the head?"
"No."
"Did you piss off Tali so she hacked your datapad in revenge?"
"No." Wrex chuckled. "She would be more creative than that, you should know." He looked over the other Spectres, taking in their expressions. "What?"
Bau raised a hand to his head, and Nihlus coughed uncomfortably. Tela decided she had enough, and stopped suppressing her giggle fit. The betrayed looks from Nihlus and Wrex only made her laugh harder.
"Wrex. If you do not take this seriously, I am throwing you out the airlock myself." Bau's tone was irritated. The krogan snorted.
"What, you want me to cut the list down some more?"
"No. Just explain why it is so short before I lose my patience and put a bullet in your head." In any other circumstance, Bau's voice would have made Tela go to full combat readiness, but here, she could only try and mostly fail to get her giggling under control. Wrex shrugged and leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight.
"We don't exactly have scientists with the proper fields of study. That's the only thing I need." The warlord smiled a predator's grin. "Anything else, I can get on my own, even without Spectre credentials."
Bau considered for a moment, appeared to hesitate before he spoke.
"Sure about that, Wrex? We need to have a unified krogan state as soon as possible."
The old krogan shrugged again.
"This is something that has to be done by us krogan as much as possible. The clans must be shown the error of the old ways." He chuckled, his voice filled with bloodthirsty menace. "And the fastest and only way for that is for a clan chief to knock sense into the hidebound idiots. Just get me the best scientists you can, and I will do the rest."
The warlord frowned in thought for a moment.
"I will get the krogans ready and united to stand up to these Reapers, but that's the easy part, especially if a cure for the genophage is made possible." He huffed. "So. Any recommendations, or do you need time to think and assess candidates, Bau?"
The salarian shook his head, flashed a grin, his fingers flying over his omnitool.
"No. Have the best candidate for you already. Brilliant, capable, is already familiar with both Tuchanka and the genophage." Bau cheerfully ignored the deep growl from Wrex as he went on. "He is somewhat eccentric and a bit of a cloaca though."
Bau's grin was very wide as the display changed, and showed an elderly salarian, with one cranial horn missing.
"He is currently on Omega. Want to pick him up in person, Wrex? Maybe you could meet Aria again, have a nice talk about rules and breaking them."