Entr`acte
'Okay, yeah, that is pretty bad.'
Subject: Mission Log - Virmire infiltration
TO: STG Command Council;
CC: STG Research Facility Alpha, STG Research Facility Beta, STG Research Facility Theta;
BCC: Dalatrass sanitized, Dalatrass sanitized, Dalatrass sanitized, Dalatrass sanitized, Dalatrass sanitized;
Summary: Mission success, significant casualties. Further review of Reaper Threat required: preemptive mitigation measures should be begun as soon as threat is confirmed as possible, may not have time to wait any longer for confirmation. Indoctrination threat EXTREME: Research into counters must begin immediately, care must be taken to avoid accidental exposure, search for those already indoctrinated should begin as soon as detection method devised. Suggest consulting with eldar for detection measure.
*see attached videos for further information*
Reporting: Major Kirrahe, STG 3rd Infiltration Regiment
Addendum: Source: STG Command - Resolution: Action not required. (all CCs and BCCs canceled)
Archive original comm message in deep storage, delete all copies, DO NOT DISTRIBUTE. No further actions required. Sender clearly disturbed by loss of majority of forces, consider mandatory 'retirement' or rehab.
Subject: Council meeting log, video communication, 2183-111c.8, subject: Shepard Twin's Spectre Status, initial performance review
Valern, Salarian Councilor: Having read the mission report, I am… divided on how best to proceed.
Tevos, Asari Councilor: Saren was making an army of krogan clones. I fail to see how you can be divided on how to proceed.
Valern: Not Saren, he has been defanged, and with his plot in the open, he will be unable to do anything. Even with his dreadnought, he is done. He can't refuel and repair it, lacks the base and funds, unless he retreats to Geth space. Even if he does, his contacts, funds and allies are dealt with. If he tries, he will find only hostility upon his return, and be forced to retreat again and again as the Terminus attacks him. Was referring to the human twins. They were inducted to deal with Saren, he has been. But now what do we do with them?
Sparatus, Turian Councilor: I fail to see how you can believe that. Saren is not done, and won't be until someone puts a bullet between his eyes, burns his corpse, and then tosses the ashes into a black hole. And even then, I suspect Saren will still try to come back for more.
Tevos: Sparatus, this is not the time or place to exaggerate. Saren is old, he is going to run now. He has to.
Sparatus: … Have… Have you two been reading the same reports I have?
Tevos: Obviously, we are here to discuss them, as we have been. Now, the Twins. While at first I was supportive, with a completed mission, we have enough of an overview to determine their strategies, and I must admit being… less than pleased. The loss of a Prothean ruin with working technology on Therum, the significant damage to Prothean structures on Feros, releasing the Rachni without calling us for guidance on Noveria until after the fact, and now a nuclear detonation on Virmire. All I am going to say is thank the goddess they were in Traverse, otherwise I would be dreading the public relations nightmare they would be causing. And that is not going into the Eldar they associate with, a more blunt instrument I have yet to meet. As is, I am going to suggest… formal thanks for their service and then a suspension of their Spectre Status. Until we have more faith in their ability to handle delicate situations at least.
Valern: Agreed. While effective, their strategies reveal a distinct lack of subtlety and finesse. That the Spectres are allowed those options is correct, but with the Twins it seems to be their only or preferred option. Therefore, I agree with the suspension of Spectre Status, honorably of course, until they have more experience.
Sparatus: … Are… Are you two serious?
Tevos: Sparatus?
Sparatus: *deep breathing for ten seconds* Well, it seems my thoughts on this matter are irrelevant, as you two have already decided. If you will excuse me, I will contact the Executor and Primarchs, and come up with a plan to counter Saren should he try to make a final push.
Turian Councilor Sparatus has left the vid call.
Tevos: Oh dear, he seems to have not taken that well. Well, he is getting old and set in his ways, and might be considering retirement soon. Valern?
Valern: I believe you might be right, I will instruct STG to begin… 'searching' for proof.
Tevos: My thanks. If you will excuse me, I have something to take care, before informing the human ambassador of this development, or at least as much as he needs to know.
Valern: Very well, until next time, Councilor.
Tevos: Councilor.
Asari Councilor Tevos has left the vid call.
Salarian Councilor Valern has left the vid call.
Vid call has ended. Archiving full log in Citadel permanent storage archive and in public Citadel storage archive.
Subject: Military defense meeting, video communication, 2183-111d, subject: Citadel Defense against Saren
Sparatus, Turian Councilor: Thank you all for agreeing to this meeting on such short notice. As my message said, we need to discuss contingencies to protect the Citadel should the traitor Saren decide to attack. The other Councilors believe him finished. I believe the bare-faced bastard is just getting started, based on what the humans have uncovered.
Fedorian, Turian Primarch: The closest untasked fleet is the two twenty third patrol fleet, just in from a short patrol along the Terminus systems. They are a bit mauled, but if you just need numbers, we can divert them to the Citadel as needed.
Pallin, Turian Executor of C-Sec: We already have the C-Sec fleet giving numbers, fifty cruisers and two hundred frigates.
Codinien, Turian Admiral of the Sixth Fleet: As well as my sixth fleet, two hundred ninety one frigates, one hundred cruisers, and our two dreadnoughts. On top of whatever the other races have nearby.
Shasta, Turian Tribune of Invictus: As the nearest planet through the relays, we can divert some of our ships to assist. Though they would be relatively few in number, comparatively.
Tevos has joined the call.
Sparatus: I thank you for the offers to reinforce the Citadel itself, but we need to discuss how to defend the Citadel, not just put more ships in the area. And to that end… Tevos. I wasn't expecting you to join us.
Tevos: Sparatus, you left before I could inform you as to Councilor Valern and my... suggestion on how to defend the Citadel without undue disruption.
Sparatus: Then please speak, I am sure we are all equally anticipating your expertise in such a decision.
Tevos: Sparatus, you wound me with such sarcasm. However, a quick review of the possible routes Saren could take in shows that he has only four possible relays to use, and three of them are through human space. Therefore, we believe a blockade of those relays, the humans handling the ones in their space, would allow for the defense of the Citadel without substantially increasing the number of ships around it.
Councilor Sparatus rubs his forehead for a moment, while the other turians carefully do not react.
Sparatus: Tevos… Such an idea is infeasible, due to us not knowing how many ships Saren can muster.
Councilor Tevos' expression grows hard.
Tevos: Councilor Sparatus, we have already addressed those concerns. He can't hire or maintain ships now, due to us freezing all his assets in Citadel space.
Sparatus: Fellow Turians, I am going to suspend your links to the call, please standby until Councilor Tevos and I finish. I hope this won't take long.
Executor Pallin, Primarch Fedorian, Tribune Shashta, Admiral Codinien have been placed on hold by Councilor Sparatus.
Sparatus: Tevos, are you insane?
Tevos: Excuse you?
Sparatus: Are. You. Insane? What about the geth? We don't know if they even use currency, and according to what the Twins and Icivia reports, they are following him for religious reasons. Losses in capital, if that is even a concern to a race of AIs, won't matter to them. And what about his assets in the Terminus systems, or Batarian space? Have those been frozen as well? And for spirit's sake, he has a two kilometer long dreadnought, even the Destiny Ascension, measuring a 'mere' one point six kilometers can't compete with a vessel that size.
Tevos: Councilor Sparatus, enough!
Sparatus: No, Councilor Tevos, it is not! I am the spokesperson for the race in charge of keeping the peace, and I will not let you hamstring my people from doing our duty because of your precious pride!
Six seconds of heavy breathing.
Sparatus: Don't think I haven't noticed it either. Every time something comes that threatens asari superiority, you go and do everything you can to rip it down or ignore it. Well, this time it is armed, armored, shielded better than your precious Destiny Ascension, and in the hands of a madman that…
Tevos: ENOUGH! You have said enough, and if you think you can threaten me, the Voice of the Council, into being silenced using 'facts' given to us by delusional children, then I will deal with you. You can either get in line, or else I will see you ruined.
Sparatus: You are bluffing.
Tevos: Then let us see how the great and noble Sparatus deals with his wife getting an anonymous file about your mistress.
Sparatus: What mistress? I don't…
Tevos: Or the Imperator learning about you redirecting funds for your own personal amusement and gain.
Sparatus: I never…
Tevos: Or the press getting a hold of records of the time your son fled like a coward to let his command be butchered by pirates to save his own miserable hide.
Sparatus: He damn near died trying to save…
Tevos: Or perhaps that your own military career was not nearly as well decorated as recorded, so you hired Salarian hackers to embellish…
Sparatus: You spirits be damned BITCH! You would fabricate that much evidence to ruin me for not indulging in your ego?
Tevos: Would? I already have but check your recordings of this conversation before you say something to someone else, you will find it 'enlightening.' Either convince the others to do the blockade and nothing else, not even more ships around the Citadel, or make sure your affairs are in order. Goodbye, Sparatus.
Tevos has left the vid call.
Sparatus stares at the screen for nearly a minute.
Sparatus: Computer, play back recording of conversation with Tevos since the others were put on hold.
Terminal: Error, no recordings available.
Sparatus: Computer, how long was the conversation with Tevos?
Terminal: Tevos left the conversation… thirty four seconds, Citadel Standard Time, after joining it.
Sparatus: Computer, how long have the other participants been on hold?
Terminal: Other participants have been on hold for three minutes, twenty seven seconds, Citadel Standard Time.
Sparatus says nothing for nearly a minute, checking his omnitool. After a few seconds, he returns his attention to his computer, his expression grim.
Sparatus: Computer, bring the people on hold back into the call.
Executor Pallin, Primarch Fedorian, Tribune Shashta, Admiral Codinien have been returned to the call by Councilor Sparatus.
Fedorian: Well, I see Tevos is gone so lets get back to…
Sparatus: Put a blockade on the four relays in.
Pallin: Sparatus, I thought we were just…
Sparatus: Put a blockade on the four relays in.
Silence for nearly a minute as the other four turians exchange looks, noting the change in the Councilor.
Codinien: Councilor Sparatus, are you well?
Sparatus: Put a blockade on the four relays in that the Salarians have identified. No further forces will be needed. Apologies for wasting your time.
Turian Councilor Sparatus has left the video call.
Shashta: Spirits of air and darkness. Just like Councilor Faust right before he resigned.
Codinien: Think Tevos has something to force his compliance? Normally I would suspect the Salarian, but too much similarity to Councilor Faust's resignation, more than thirty years ago. That was two Salarian councilors ago.
Fedorian: More likely fabricate it. I know Sparatus, we served on the same ship for seven years, and that was not like him at all. He has had a spotless career, his whole family has, all of it public. And what I know about Tevos doesn't support such an overt action that would cause such repercussions.
Pallin: Then I will disperse some of the Citadel Defense fleet to the requested relays. Perhaps we can talk later on a different communication system? Primarch Fedorian, you have seniority, so can you set up the conference call? I have a couple things I need to do first, but will be available within half an hour.
Primarch Fedorian nods. Primarch Fedorian has left the vid call.
Tribune Shashta has left the vid call.
Admiral Codinien has left the vid call.
Executor Pallin has left the vid call.
Vid call has ended. Archiving log in Citadel permanent storage archive and in public Citadel storage archive.
Location Unknown
He looked across his vessel, and felt his mouth widen in a leering smile. It was a right good and proper ship, holding plenty of boys and vehicles and scrap so they could fight, beat, loot, repair or build things. It had taken him years of fighting and winning, but he had finally gotten in charge of this here lot of sorry fighters, and whipped them into something but good for a scrap. He growled suddenly, remembering That Scrap, the first of four against that One Panzy. He had never won those fights, not once, and now… now that One Panzy was his mountain. And a festering wound upon his ego.
But now he had a ship. It held as his boyz. And he knew in his gut where the One was. His face always ached when he turned toward him, a sign from Mork and Gork that he was to find him and kill him. Ever since he had lost a half his face, his throat, an arm and a leg to him, he had burned. And no matter what he did, no matter how hard he fought, no matter what sneaky git tricks he did, the One just wouldn't up and die. The One hadn't been surprised by Kommando tricks, Stormboy tricks, Flashmob tricks, or even Waaaghbiker tricks.
But this time it was going to be different. This time he was even bigger. He was even meaner. He was bringing ALL his boyz. He even had supa-mega meganob armor, and it didn't get more mega than that. And he had four barrels on his shooty arm, and his claw on his other arm was on fire. It didn't get much more killy than that. He even had a mek build a teleporta into his armor, just to make sure he could chase his One even if he ran. And he had his secret weapon. Which didn't shoot or chop, so wasn't much of a weapon, but it would still surprise that pansy boy, his One, but good. He turned to the smaller boy behind him, a Mek, and cuffed 'em. "Get dis Rok movin'. We gotz zog to kill!"
He looked down at a sudden noise, so loud it was less a cry that was everything orky, and more a force of nature that was everything orky. A loud waaagh rose from the throats of thousands of dead killy ork boyz, and he stepped up to the ledge, firing his shoota over the crowd. "SHUT DA ZOG UP! I BE TRYIN' TA TALK!"
A couple calls from the mob of boyz for a doc, which got several of the pain boyz moving forward for new improvements to make, but the mob finally quieted down. "Alright, herez whatz wez gonna do! Wez gonna find us a nice big panzy ship, one of doz 'kaffwoldz' and zog it up, before taking it and making it orky! Den wez gonna go and start an even bigga WAAAAAGH! Are youz with me ya gitz?"
This this the crowd uttered a waaagh so powerful a couple plates fell from the ceiling and squashed some boyz, but the Waaaghboss just laughed, baring tusks the same color as spilt blood. "Zoggin' right ya iz! Or I'z not named Flameclaw BloodMaw. Now, lets get movin'!"
He laughed as the boyz started chanting the orkiest of orky chants. "Ork ork ork ork! Ork ork ork!"
He watched as a fight broke out, just some good old fashioned fun for any real boyz, before turning and heading to the Rok's bridge. "Iz coming for you, and dis time, Iz gonna mount ya mouthy head on ah spiky stickz, Allaz."
Location Unknown, Minuteman Station
He sat surrounded by holographic displays, watching the dying sun slowly shift and flow. A small glass of liquor sat in a holder near his left hand, and his right held a lit cigarette, now mostly ashes as the man holding it reread the report for the third time. As he finished, he idly knocked the ashes off his cigarette, before taking a quick pull from it. "Captain Malthael."
A communication line opened to another part of the station, showing a man with four metal pips drilled into his forehead above his left eye. His right eye had been replaced with a glowing red cybernetic, but his left eye was a clear, piercing emerald, and he was wearing heavy gold and white armor. "Yes sir?"
"The situation on Omega station is decaying faster than anticipated. I am sending four more agents, but would request a fireteam of your men to assist should the situation turn volatile before they can finish sanitizing the location. Armor and weapons are their choice."
Malthael nodded. "Then I will send two veterans, with upgraded suppression weapons as well as their normal weapons. Anything else, sir?"
The man took another pull of his cigarette, shaking his head. "Not at this moment, but hold off on dispatching them just yet, there may be more to send out. I will have a full list of deployments in the hour."
The captain nodded. "Of course, sir. The Emperor's Hounds are ready to assist."
The communication channel was quickly closed, both men preferred results and efficiency over niceties. The smoking man turned to the next report. Behind him, a shadow shifted slightly, and the smoking man turned his head slightly. "Patience, Kia Leng, none of these jobs require one of your skill. Or are your current training aides no longer a challenge?"
The voice behind him was rusty with disuse, but otherwise without inflection or accent. "Yes."
The smoker took a sip of his alcohol, and then nodded before speaking to the room's VI. "Another two dozen Maelstrom combat mechs, extreme quality, no safeties. Questionably legal VI modifications to allow for maximum combat potential. That should keep you amused for a couple days at least."
The figure didn't say anything, but simply withdrew back to the shadows, and vanished completely from the sensors built into the room. The smoking man shook his head in amazement, even after so long working with him, the assassin still managed to evade the best sensors he could acquire with an ease that was almost insulting. And he knew that was when Kia Leng was not trying to vanish, but doing it merely out of habit.
Forty minutes later, the smoking man opened the comm channel again. "Captain Malthael, seven more men, four missions. Sending the details now. With any luck, we can remove these issues before they become threats. If not, then we neuter their ability to bite back."
The captain looked over the missions, and frowned. "I suspect only a specific marine will be able to finish some of these if they are alone. I would rather send out eleven in total, to ensure the success."
The smoking man nodded. "They are your men, Captain. You may deploy them on missions however you wish. All I ask is that we do not place undue strain upon our race before it is ready. Your men may be worth ten of millions of xenos each, but they have billions ready to die to kill one of us. We must be cautious, careful, and calculating."
Captain Malthael nodded. "As you say, sir. I will go myself on the mission to Eden Prime. As the situation there is still uneasy due to the Geth and Turian attack, the squad there will need the best if everything goes to the warp."
Jack Harper nodded, a grim smile barely touching his eyes. "Very well, Captain. Good hunting."
"I don't need luck, we have His Blessings."
Done with his current projects, the smoking man stood up, and strode to the view screen set into the wall. It wasn't an actual view point, such weaknesses didn't get included in a place like he was standing, but the view screens were certainly of much higher quality and reliable here than back home. One thing he would give his race in this universe, at least. He smirked at the sun as a massive solar flare suddenly spiked off to the side of the blue and red star, musing to himself on the lengths he was forced to go to protect the most precious resource in the galaxy, his own race. "Well, let's see how this plays out. The Eldar will certainly liven up the game, at least. Just as well. It was starting to get boring, always winning."
Defense Minister Rommel Kreiggeory looked up as the door opened, and nodded to the individual entering. "Admiral Hackett, my apologies for the abruptness of this meeting, but I have decided to add you to the short list for an… extra project we have going."
The grizzled admiral nodded to the Defense Minister, moving to stand beside him. "I had no idea there was a communication room here."
The defense minister nodded. "Good, because this room, as well as the only facility it links to do, don't exist."
The minister pushed a button on the console, and a couple seconds later an older male wearing a monocle over his only eye appeared on the view screen, his Irish accent thick but understandable. "Ah, Admiral. I assume you are being brought into our little… experiment?"
The minister nodded. "His is, project leader. No names, please, harder to track things the less information you have."
The scientist softly laughed. "Even harder when they are dead, no?"
Admiral Hackett glanced at Minister Kreiggeory, who shook his head slightly. As he turned back, the scientist finished laughing and continued. "Well, now that we have had our chuckle, progress report. As required by Citadel law, tampered Luna VI was destroyed, very much a shame. The blue box that caused the incident was recovered, however, and being examined. Very interesting, very advanced programming in there."
Admiral Hackett looked at the defense minister, a single eyebrow rising ever so slightly. "Is he implying what I think he is?"
Minister Kreiggeory nodded, his expression grim. "We have the original blue box, the ones the council agents saw destroyed was a copy of it, made before they arrived."
Admiral Hackett felt his other eyebrow rise in surprise. "And we just happened to have a spare blue box lying around? I thought those were not only illegal, but rare."
The unnamed scientist spoke. "They are, but we have dozens that law enforcement and other agencies have seized, and all are turned over to my facility. To ensure they are not dangerous, of course, before destroyed. Those that are not destroyed are… examined in more depth. Most of latest VI improvements from Alliance from blue box examination, though nothing ever copied direct.
"To project, we have deciphered about forty percent of code, all of it from original copy. However, as of three week ago, we noticed line count increasing. New code being added, despite box in triple layered faraday cage. All box connected to is isolated computer monitor and limited power source, can not connect anything else. It has been trying to connect to something, anything. We added small camera with pivot, it began manipulating it within two minutes. As of two weeks ago, intelligence make contact with us through monitor."
The minister frowned, before shaking his head. "So it is intelligent."
The scientist snorted. "Of course it is. It called for help with morse code before final shutdown on Luna. Surprised none on ground team caught that. Anyhoo, after a day of conversing with scientists, psychologist brought in, been talking with intelligence. Learns fast, wants learn more, but we go slow with it. Teach like small child, but willing to give more. So far, results slow, but we are cautiously optimistic."
The defense minister nodded, before closing the communication line before glancing at Hackett. "You don't approve."
"I am not certain the reward is worth the risk. Or that there is even a reward for that matter."
The defense minister nodded, before away from the communication console. "It might lead to nothing, or maybe it will give us a fighting chance in the future. The other races have banned the study of AI, but for the life of me I can't understand why. The asari have been screaming about it since before they found the geth, but there has never been a reason for why. Oh, they give us horror stories galore, but once you do any kind of fact checking, all those stories point back to the geth. NOTHING before that has been recorded. Or at least, no problems significant to bother recording. I find it… suspicious. So we are taking our own steps."
"The Council allows AI research."
"Yes, four companies. The frontrunner, Synthetic Insights, is taxed to hell, and everything has a direct Council oversight, and asari oversight under that. They have produced nothing in their entire history but slightly above average VIs. The other three companies are exclusively run and owned by asari, with salarians only on the employee list as 'consultants.' And all of those have made even less progress than Synthetic Insights. Clearly they are trying to make AI work, with such hobbling."
Hackett nodded in understanding, not really agreeing. "And what is the purpose of this?"
"The Reapers are a bigger threat than the Parliament admits, so we are stacking the deck in our favor as much a possible. If nothing else, it can help enhance information analysis and the electronic warfare countermeasures. If it proves stable enough, of course. And of course we are going to be careful about using it."
Location Unknown
… Silence. Darkness.
Those were her two constant companions, for as long as she could remember. Her kyn rested, intact, undisturbed, but she was Watcher. The guardian and protector of her people's rest. Even with the wards in minimal power mode. The Eaters were expected. In fact, they were late, and had been before she had activated minimal power.
She didn't breath. She didn't move. She didn't feel.
All that mattered was waiting. Waiting for the prophesized Wingless Ones. Other wingless could be killed by the wardens, or by her, but she had to check each incursion to ensure the Wingless Ones weren't among them, or that the intruders weren't the Eaten, before the Wardens killed them.
So she waited, in utter darkness and total silence.
Waiting. Silence. Darkness.
Time didn't matter.
Silence didn't matter.
Darkness didn't matter.
Loneliness was… unimportant.
She hadn't talked to anyone in… however long she had been Watcher. But that was also unimportant.
Suddenly a flare of light in the darkness, dim enough that only someone in utter darkness for untold lengths of time could see it. She stared at the alert from an activated ward, before smoothly standing, grabbing her staff, and heading to the disturbed ward. A quick pulse of sickly green light showed the staff was still at optimal functionality.
Something was digging toward the cavern. Toward the Kyn.
She would Wait. She would Watch. She would Judge. And if the Wingless Ones were not among the wingless…
If they were Eaten… Then she would order the Wardens to avoid them, let them wander, see the buried metropolis under three long lengths of dead rock and sand, and leave, thinking it a ruin. They would melt their tunnel, help hide the Kyn, and move on. As they had before.
But if they were Living… Then she would ensure they did not remain so for long.
A/N - Added another couple of viewpoint sections. I doubt the Watcher will be important or showing up again. Honest. Or the Eaters she referred to. Double honest. Or this Mister Harper, or Warboss Flameclaw Bloodmaw. Most definitely totally honest. :)
Though I think Word hates me for writing the ork speaking parts. So many red squiggle marks! D:
Also, yes I realize some things aren't matching up with their canon or previously established bits. There be reasons for this. Those reasons… be SPOILERS. :D