A/N: Behold the opening stanzas of the Angstrofuck of Doom. Sorry this took so long, but it ended up being re-written multiple times (even after going to the Editing Gang) and I ended up splitting the chapter.
As usual, none of this would be possible without the dedicated assistance of the Editing Gang.
Also as usual, you should seriously check out Aberron's Living an Indoctrinated Dream. It is also worth looking at Mass Effect - Hellion by ArielFetters.
'Justice is merely a word, often misused by those who fail to understand their place. I do not believe in fairness, as that is all too often subjective. I believe in the traditions and ways that have guided our people for ten thousand years and more. If that offends or invalidates the lives of those who choose to live in the Republic, they should change themselves. Those who refuse to bend must be removed for the good of all. That is the only justice that can be real.'
-Senior Justicar Samara, testimony before the Asari Republic Public Forum, on why she purged nearly half the population of the asari colony of Theone, 2180
On the morning of the day that would come to be known as one of the bloodiest events in its history, Ilium was already balanced on the tense edge of chaos. Its fate was being decided in the Hall of the Matriarchs on Thessia, and its future was in the hands of a small group of asari who cared little for its people.
Thana T'Armal folded her arms as she reclined in the luxuriantly padded chair, her eyes fixed on the figure in front of her. The rest of the Council of Matriarchs were arranged around her in a semicircle, bathed in ever-shifting light from the complex mix of holographic scenes from the high-vaulted roof and light from the tall, slanted windows of the temple.
Justicar Mistress Layana stood in their midst, her red robes covering ancient, red-tinted steel armor, her blunt features set in her usual bored scowl and her face made more brutal by the iron patch covering her left eye. Her voice, as always, reminded Thana of the hard tones of Aethyta Vasir, and her phrasing wasn't much more elegant.
"Ilium has been a problem for centuries, Matriarchs. Never a proper part of the Republic. I do not understand why the Thirty, may radiance trail your actions, hasn't ever bothered to take the place in hand, but that is not my place. My place is to enforce justice. Whatever possible rationale there was for letting the clanless run wild this long has certainly been offset by the chaos coming from the world now. These Sisters of Vengeance are quite possibly ardat-yakshi, and the hints my justicars find on the worlds of the Republic all point to Ilium – and possible deals with Aria – as the cause of most of the unrest in our race."
Matriarch Yulsanis T'Purice, the oldest of the Matriarchs of the Thirty, gave a polite sign of siari disagreement. "Child, you think your many losses and years give you perspective. There are things we have done over the long march of years that seem confusing, but were done with good reason. As you said, you do not grasp why we chose to… allow Ilium to prosper."
The old asari gave a rasping cough before continuing. "There have always been those of our people who chafed at the unity and inner peace we pursue. Deviants who reject the wisdom of the Thirty. Ignorant children who think they know better than their elders. We have not bothered to control the world because it is… useful to have such an outlet for the discontented."
Layana's good eye widened. "It is useful to have a pack of criminals, who break taboos, value money over other asari, embrace slavery, murder, and all manner of other crimes?"
Matriarch Devir leaned back in her seat, her sharp features twisted into a mocking grin. "You are simply too lawful and orderly to see such a thing. Consider. The ignorant who flee to Ilium are exposed to the ugly truth of how the lesser aliens live and operate. The younglings who go to Ilium are confronted with the uncultured lifestyle. The lack of unity, the immorality, the brutal disregard for life. Many of those who go return swiftly, and are far more ready to listen to the wisdom of the Thirty after seeing up close what asari would be without us."
Layana grunted. "Some of them like it, and more probably get corrupted."
Devir shrugged. "Perhaps. But most, we have found, are instead horrified, repulsed, and outraged. Our people tend to see ourselves as wise, elegant, figures of culture, grace, and, above all else, unity." She paused to sip at her wine, the crystalline glass catching the light from above with the motion. "The trash of Ilium are very much out of the flow of the sea to us. At best, they are… proud of being shallow, gritty, cruel, and uncultured."
Uressa T'Shora's face was sad as she spoke, her tone one of regret. "Yes. It is a place where money and shallow popularity are worth more than the communal good, or the lives of the unfortunate. Where flashy extravagance is held more highly than mercy, or kindness, or creativity. They focus entirely on the self."
Matriarch Inetia T'Rome spoke before Layana could do so. "There is also the hard truth that those who do not fit into our society and have no place in it are better contained on Ilium than letting them go to Aria, or our human cousins."
Layana shook her head. "You are aware the Clans view Ilium much more differently? They are thieves who cheapen the work of Steelshape and Hearthwatch. They don't venerate wisdom, they venerate a level of venality and greed that would shame a volus." She let her voice rise in volume. "By the love of the Goddess, Matriarchs, seventy percent of the rogue ardat-yakshi we have to deal with come from that world! There are known, openly operating Dreaming Dancer cults, and even fragments of the Triune Unity."
The ancient justicar folded her arms. "I know Ilium's coffers have provided a great deal of money and boosted our economy, not to mention allowed what you speak of in isolating troublemakers. But they have been 'off-limits' now for centuries, ever since my predecessor tried to clean the place up last time. With the exception of a handful of my best senior justicars chasing ardat-yakshi in clear and hot pursuit, we haven't been on the world at all in three hundred years."
Thana T'Armal sighed. "Layana, we are hardly unaware of that. Please come to the point. We have already locked the system down and allowed you to land a small force to pursue rumors of a rogue ardat-yakshi on the planet."
Layana smiled, and tapped her omni-tool. "As you know, I have certain contacts with our cousins, the human Commissars. One of them has informed me that the chaos on Ilium, between the Broker and the Sisters, is the part of something much larger, and more dangerous."
An image appeared of Matriarch Trellani, in a dark black gown with a silver shawl, on the arm of a handsome if nondescript human male with sunglasses. "Trellani has been confirmed by certain events to be working directly with the human terror group Cerberus, which somehow survived the strike to destroy them. Cerberus is believed by the Alliance to be behind both this Butcher creature and the Archangel. Given the references the Butcher has made, they believe Cerberus may be funding the Sisters as well."
Thana leaned forward, eyes narrowed intently, while Uressa looked disturbed. The younger form of Shaltha T'Vaan, the youngest member of the Matriarchy, frowned. "What does this have to do with anything at all?"
Matriarch T'Purice's voice was sharp. "Think, child. When the Archangel was threatened, the Butcher extracted him. The Sisters appear to be under a threat now, with the information we have of the Broker moving heavy combat units to the world."
Shaltha rolled her eyes. "And so what? You don't think Trellani would be stupid enough to expose herself on Ilium, certainly?"
Layana's smile was cold. "You forget that Trellani did a great deal of studying on Ilium, and returned there shortly before she went insane. There is, based on documents we recovered from the Triune Unity, fragmentary evidence she found something on Ilium. She would be the natural person to lead any Cerberus expedition to Ilium." She paused. "There's also comms intercepts we have that reveal Nassana Dantius has been hiring up experts on Matriarch Dilinaga's writings… and of course Trellani was one of the leading experts in those writings."
Shaltha looked confused, but all twenty-nine of the other matriarchs sat bolt upright in their seats, a few even dropping hands to warp swords. Uressa looked completely furious, while Thana's eyes were now as hard as Layana's single one.
It was the voice of T'Purice that lanced out. "There will be time enough to explain things to you later, Shaltha. Layana, Ilium was left in its current state of affairs to try and draw out certain unwanted elements in our society. If Trellani is connected to them – or even has the possibility – that is extremely dangerous."
Layana bowed. "Thus my concern, Matriarchs." She took a deep breath. "The issue in the Terminus with Aria is already intolerable. I know one part of why we never stopped the chaos recently on Ilium is that the Broker was demolishing Aria's network there. But I submit there are enough dangerous actors on the scene now that we need to purge the world and restore direct control."
There was silence in the chamber for several long seconds, before Thana nodded slowly. "Your proposal?"
Layana smiled. It wasn't a pleasant expression and it twisted the scar tissue on her face. "First, that we are agreed that Ilium's placement under martial law should be finalized. The GTS network should be secured, and the full power of the Justicar Order, with support from the First Elite Republican Guard, should be used."
Layana tapped her omni-tool again. "The primary reason would be the capture and execution of the ardat-rekshi known as Morinth, the daughter of Senior Justicar Samara. Morinth is, based on my source in the Commissars, being used by our cousins to execute criminal scum. While that's certainly the only possible moral use of such a wretch outside of the hands of the Thirty, blessings trail your steps, Morinth has multiple connections with Aria – and has been seen meeting with Nassana Dantius. That connection you have already stated to be dangerous."
She paused a second, allowing that point to sink in, before continuing.
"Second, based on what information I have is that the mess on Ilium is likely to result in some kind of Cerberus-Broker conflict. If the Sisters of Vengeance are connected to Cerberus as we suspect, then we may have an opportunity to deal with the being known as the Butcher, or a chance at neutralizing Trellani. Given the Broker's assistance with fighting Aria, and Cerberus's possible ties to her – Archangel was almost certainly doing Aria's dirty work – I would argue siding with the Broker is best."
Thana's eyes were still narrowed. "And the third thing? The actual goal, I suspect?"
Layana cut off her omni. "Matriarchs, Ilium is sick. You have already been forced to endure the insulting indignity of having the Corporate Court of Ilium attempt to bribe you to turn a blind eye to their mistakes as if you were common rabble. We have evidence that the Court has sold state secrets to the volus, that they are engaged in completely outlawed research, that they may be in some sort of illegal deal or deals with the NDC, and that they are definitely shipping arms and equipment to turian separatists who are actually the agents of Aria or P."
She folded her arms. "The planet's leadership must be purged. The population must be lanced of its… infectious criminal elements. Bluntly put, criminals breed and attract like minds. It is a haven for drug-pushers, gang assassins, low-index ardat-yakshi, and all manner of other undesirables in mainline asari society. Notwithstanding your point about having a place for such failures to go other than Aria, I would argue clearing it out now will prevent it from being a chink in the Republic's armor, while still retaining that use under proper supervision in the future."
Uressa T'Shora finally seemed to gather her composure. "What you are talking about is likely to be very bloody, justicar. Such an attack would, at the least kill thousands of innocents – if things escalate, then how can you insure the lives of those caught in the missed shots of a space battle, or open biotic warfare? Families will be torn apart and the people who simply left our shores for those of Ilium to find peace will be punished for the actions of others, not their own choices."
The cold features of Layana didn't alter. "These people you speak of, these innocents – they claim to be part of the Republic, in a way. The Code speaks of the nature of mercy. 'Let not the desire for loving oneness / cleave sense from duty. A clear sight of that which must be removed / Is the sacrifice of a limb bitten by the relli that the patient may survive.' "
Uressa shook her head. "And those who are caught up in the crossfire of such an action?"
Layana's voice, amazingly, softened slightly. "It is sad that souls like yourself are so rare, Matriarch Uressa. It is conversations of this nature that bring the only regrets I have in my job to the forefront of my mind. Will innocents die? Yes. Will those who simply live in proximity die? Most certainly. Will the galactic community recoil in horror and castigate us for brutality, for intolerance, for outright massacre?"
She watched the faces of the matriarchs, and then shook her head sadly.
"Almost certainly." Her voice hardened. "And the alternative is worse, Matriarch. The alternative is a world where the powerful and wealthy already abuse and murder the innocent, and enable others to spread misery. It is a world that breeds ardat-yakshi that go on to wreak terror and loss among our people, or worse, aliens who have no warning of the danger they represent. It is a festering sore on the beauty of the Republic that – at best – is being used by outside forces to infiltrate our homes."
She paused, meeting Uressa's gaze. "Most of all, Matriarch… if in the chaos reigning now, we choose not to act, the likely result is the Corporate Court will assume we never will. Ilium throwing in with Cerberus, or with Aria, is going to result in many more innocent deaths. Deaths we could prevent. I would much rather thousands die now than billions later to slake Aria's need for revenge."
Matriarch Uniath T'Mal, an older, slender matriarch with striking features, spoke, her voice mellifluous as usual. "The decision is then one of scale? Act now in a harsh manner and mitigate a larger mess down the river, or wait and see what transpires and then take action with the risk that the planet may end up a true problem." She tapped her chin. "That does favor your approach, although as Matriarch Uressa said it is likely to be bloody and have… ramifications. Political. Economic."
Layana nodded. "I will not pretend that the action I am describing will be gentle. But Ilium is, after all, a world of the clanless. There will always be disaffected clanless, and long experience has taught us that acceding to their wishes only makes the problem worse. If the people defy us, then those who refuse to listen to reason and wisdom will pay the price. I see no reason to cater to the concept that we should coddle criminals… and that is what they are."
She pulled up an infographic on her omni-tool. "You worry about casualties? Between the reactor explosion, the bombings, the killings, and the FTL crash, hundreds of thousands are already dead, more are homeless, and an entire fifth of the outlying city is in ashes. If we don't act now, the Corporate Court will simply let this chaos continue and bring in Eclipse to solve the chaos. Do you think Sederis's insane legions will be any more merciful than my own forces?"
She straightened. "You worry about the politics, or the chance of some economic embargo? The CEO of Liralax Arms is arming turian separatists who have the openly stated goal of butchering the Primarchs of the core Hierarchy colonies. If proof of such things could be traced to our doorstep, do you honestly think the turians will believe us when we claim not to know? The toll there would be measured in the billions of lives."
She exhaled a final time. "As always, the choice is yours alone, scions of Athame, may glory and wisdom bless your houses forever."
Silence filled the hall once more, and then Matriarch T'Armal spoke. "Justicar, my vote is to purge Ilium and establish martial law and direct control of all GTS, defense, and orbital networks, communication infrastructure, and the cities of Nos Astra, Nos Valeth, and Nos Gela. Arrest warrants are to be written for all of the five CEOs of the Court of Corporations. The entire population is to submit to ardat scale testing, any resistance is to be met with lethal force. The population is to disarm, any resistance is to be met with lethal force. Finally, any criminals are to be brought to justice or death, and those aiding or abetting them are to be dealt with in the same manner."
She paused. "In pursuit of this, and of other possible outstanding criminals, you are released from the Sutras of Restraint. Those innocent of crimes who die will be honored and mourned in the ashes of a new dawn. Matriarchs, vote your approval."
As expected, T'Shora, T'Soni, Vasir, Vabo, and T'Suon voted against the decision, but the rest of the Matriarchs voted for it. As this wasn't a direct command of the Thirty, but rather a petition from the Justicar Order itself, a unanimous vote wasn't required.
Layana smiled tightly as she bowed and withdrew, and then tapped her omni-tool. "Command, immediate burst transmission to Hunting Group Ilium. Message follows – 'Samara, no limits. Ignore media, concentrate on complete control and purge. Sisters of Vengeance, any possible alien forces, and other criminals are to be arrested or executed. Collateral damage is not a concern.' "
The asari on the other end of the comm-link repeated back the message that would see Ilium afire by the end of the day, and Layana's smile only widened.
Humans were often too hasty and much of their wisdom was suspect, but they had one wonderful phrase the Justicar Order had fallen in love with thirty years ago, and she whispered it to herself now as she left the Temple halls.
"One cannot make an omelet without breaking a few eggs."
O-TWCD-O
In the morning, Nos Astra was nervous and silent, its glittering spires and sprawl of fab-blocks and aerolanes seemingly empty for once. From her perch at the top of the traffic control tower of the main spaceport, Senior Justicar Samara's empty gray eyes scanned that horizon, her expression serene and her posture relaxed.
She wondered if the sense of calm the city felt was as false as her own.
Her forces had landed safely, the first such landing in centuries. Samara had been a trainee the last time the Order was free to act on Ilium as they did elsewhere and remembered the events that led to the Order being thrown off-world by defiant clanless ready to die rather than submit. Why the Thirty had tolerated such an insult had always bothered her.
Today it would be rectified. She looked down at the landing area. Five thousand Republican Guard soldiers, mostly from Armali and Serrice, marched neatly down and out from their landing vessels, while the thin red line of her justicars, twenty in all, stood in silent review to one side. Gunships were being unmoored from the support transport along with communications equipment and heavy weapons.
She glanced skyward for a moment. She couldn't make them out through the thick cover of clouds, but she knew that in orbit was part of the Second Fleet – and another one hundred justicars as well as two full storms of the Guard, over twenty thousand in all. This force was bolstered with half a dozen Sunrise-class light hovertanks, although given Ilium lacked battlesuits they would surely be unnecessary.
Her gaze turned to the city center, and her mission. Her orders – received only minutes before – had been clear and direct. Ilium was to be pacified at all costs, the Sisters of Vengeance were to be arrested or killed, and anything that defied the Order was to be… removed.
That would lead to a great amount of bloodshed, in a very short amount of time. She watched the aerolanes full of aircars for a moment more before the door behind her slid open and her second-in-command, Justicar Ysi Vhira, stepped through.
Vhira was one of the Thirty, a rare thing – usually done only by those who swore oaths for revenge. Samara knew her bondmate, mother, and children had all been killed by anti-Thirty activists believed to be headquartered in Ilium. She wasn't sure if she could keep the other justicar inline – even though she was senior, she was of the Clans, and Vhira was second-born to the house matriarch.
"We have initial strike targets, Samara." Vhira tapped her omni-tool, and linemaps of Ilium flashed onto the nearby display panels on one wall. "The outer slum areas near the south are the most likely place to find the trash we're looking for. We believe the location here," – she tapped a group of old abandoned warehouses – "is the headquarters of that slaver group we've been tracking. It looks like most of the filth failed to get off-world before the blockade came down."
Samara nodded. "Many of these warehouses are converted into low-cost housing, I see. There will be significant chances of those not directly guilty being caught in the resulting firefights."
Vhira shrugged. "They knew these thugs were here, selling other asari into slavery, and did nothing? Guilty." She tapped another section. "The Corporate Court is refusing to surrender, and is gathering their forces near the riverside that divides the city. We can probably talk the idiots down with a show of force."
Samara nodded a second time and turned her gaze out to the city. Her daughter was in this place, somewhere. It was very possible that Trellani, the arch-traitor, was on the planet. Those two took priority. Once she had resolved that issue she could focus more on figuring out how to deal with Ilium itself. The fate of the countless clanless who would suffer was not her priority.
"I will take the Everchosen and begin the search for our quarry. I leave the pacification to you, Vhira. The Justicar Mistress has authorized complete sanction with no limits… and no worries of collateral damage."
The eager expression on the younger asari's face flickered into one of faint concern. "The media won't like it, and we don't have enough control over the comm-nets to stop the footage."
Samara turned back to face her, and her voice was cool, almost mocking. "Nor should we try to stop it. It is past time the asari see exactly why it is unwise to oppose the Thirty for things such as money, greed, and vile perversion. It is hard for me to find any concept of 'innocence' on a world where slavery is legal, where organleggers are companies with publicly traded stocks, and where one is fined for killing only if you do not clean up the mess afterwards."
As the sun began to illuminate the sky in streaks of gold and red, the endless tramp of feet and the soft, light sound of the Republic's battle-song rang out through the air. The units moved in the smooth ranks of the echelon, the lightly armed sisters first, then the hunters, and then the ranks of the battle matriarchs. Banners emblazoned with the sigils of a half-dozen asari city-states - Armali, Serrice, Purice, Sona, Vasira and Romae - fluttered in the wind.
Minutes later, she was still staring out at the city when a dozen firefights had broken out and the howl of Spear of Athame rifles and the screams of asari washed over the city. She knew this would happen. The Republican Guard would be seen by the people of Ilium as oppressors and invaders, while the Guard tended to resent the independence and what they considered disgraceful antics of the Ilium population.
Normally Samara would have run this operation differently, focused on arresting the Court and finding the criminals she was here for. But it had been made clear Ilium was going to burn to make a point to the clanless.
The sutras did not give her any choices nor peace of mind, she found. They demanded obedience no matter her personal opinions. The smoke rising from the city slums and the flashes of blue light that spoke of conflicts already escalating out of hand only made her focus on finding her daughter.
The control room was empty moments later, and Samara was on the hunt.
O-TWCD-O
Nassana Dantius smiled warmly at the figure seated on the fine vrin-leather couch across from her. Her meeting room for clients, Tetrimus noted, was exquisite yet tasteful – elegant works of art, subtle but careful architecture, and faint music combined with the tinkle of an artificial waterfall and mist generators to provide a serene atmosphere.
The huge armaglass windows to one side of the room overlooked all of Nos Astra and the wide bay of the Verras Sea beyond, the sun scattering gold and crimson lights atop the waves and glittering off the sharp, angular skyscrapers of the city center. Thin smudges of smoke occluded the view here and there, and the asari CEO shook her head in dismay.
"The Thirty, blessings trail their movements, have ruined us here, Aeostos Tetrimus." She used an obscure asari term of respect, one cobbled together from old salarian words that roughly translated to 'honored killer.' "My operations here will almost certainly be undone."
Tetrimus nodded. "Our associate at the ruins is finished with his… observations. Your decision to inform us of the site was wise, madam. The Broker has always been impressed with your operation. He is fully prepared to maintain your independence from us – and respects your own needs in this endeavor."
She sipped a glass of Serrician firewine and the smile became slightly stiff, her plain features twisting somewhat. "Translation: you're a dangerous relli, but we're not above putting you in someone else's garden."
She stood and walked to the window, gazing down. "My whole life has been invested into this city, this world. Discovering the ruins, seeing Dilanaga's writings, that terrible chamber of darkness, those horrible phrases I can't get out of my mind…"
She paused, and took another drink. "And now, I strongly suspect the Thirty are here for calling due their debts. The collapse of the turian-volus connection and the withdrawal of the Eclipse Mercenary Company from our rosters has crippled my own cash flow. The Thirty are aware I found the ruins, and I suspect that fool Thessial didn't listen to me and told someone else."
Tetrimus flicked a mandible, again nodding, the cloth of his black robes rustling. He chose not to share his personal opinion – money only made fools more foolish – instead offering an equally blunt truth. "That is what our initial investigations found." He paused as something exploded in the far distance, the tiny shapes of gunships at the city's edge illuminated by weapons fire and burning buildings.
"And I must say, the trap the Thirty have laid for you is… more elegant than their usual fare. When is Justicar Samara arriving?"
Nassana tossed her drink away carelessly, turning as it shattered on the ground. "Less than an hour. She's already arrested two of the Court's CEOs stupid enough to be at the spaceport – the only reason she didn't start with me is I'm the one with my finger on the trigger of our defense net and our ships. I've had them stand down to avoid a direct fight… but have no intention of sticking around."
Tetrimus leaned back. "I think we can accommodate this in a fashion to enrich all involved parties. Your people are completely outside our network and thus not compromised. They can help us localize the Sisters of Vengeance and deal with cleanup operations at the ruins. We have an asset there that is editing the records to point away from you and towards Matriarch Fienna."
He stood as well, smoothing his robes and picking up his cane. "Additionally, we've had faint rumors of other… interesting parties arriving on Ilium. If your people can localize them and we can neutralize them, that's also a win."
She gave a frown. "That is all tides along the shoreline, but how am I supposed to be getting away from this mess with a blockade in progress?"
Tetrimus smiled. "At the right moment… let's just say the Second Fleet will be heavily distracted. We've made certain that several explosive devices are on board certain Second Fleet vessels, and we have other preparations as well. You'll ship out on a stealthed turian frigate we specifically equipped for this mission and spend a week or so in transit to a secure location, and then we can discuss how to leverage your assets outside the Asari Republic."
She nodded, tapping her omni. "Yentha."
An older asari's face illuminated the omni-tool, the voice cold and hard. "Yes, mistress?"
"I'm evacuating to avoid… issues with the justicars. When they show up – roughly an hour from now – send them to the Board of Directors and act as if I am still here, feign not knowing when or why I left. If they put you directly to the Question, don't bother trying to resist or lie, tell them I left with elements from P.'s group an hour before they arrived."
She took a deep breath. "Send orders to all our intel and combat teams to link to channel 44i2-thanis-5 and obey the commands of the person on said channel. I've already had the accounting system dump five months of pay into everyone's bank account… good luck."
She clicked off and discarded the omni-tool, pulling out a package with a fresh unopened generic model. "I have enough wealth off-world that I have no need to travel with any possessions. I trust my contribution is sufficient?"
Tetrimus bowed. "Indeed, lady Dantius. I'll notify the Broker – and our field team leader – immediately." He turned to the trio of black-armored forms by the door. "Work with her bodyguards and get her to the frigate faster than a vakar's run. Once aboard have the pilot immediately break dock and head to the docks at Vinthan North Access, and when the signal comes, punch out for the relay at top speed."
One of them, a salarian, nodded rapidly. "Understood, Ginnister Tetrimus."
Nassana smiled as she passed by. "Will you be leaving a team or two here? I expect someone besides the justicars will try to take me out…"
Tetrimus only smiled wider. "We have left anyone attempting to do so a little gift, yes." He tapped his own omni. "Kill teams six and seven, heavy combat team three: engage Priority AVEST."
The omni-tool clicked twice in acknowledgment and the asari CEO gave him a curious look, to which he merely gestured to the door. "In the network, we often say time is money. Let us be on our way. I have a great many people to kill today and I'm eager to get started."
O-TWCD-O
By the time Tela Vasir reached the South Silver tower, thick heavy spires of smoke and the sound of shouting and biotic usage was already ringing through the streets, the news feeds were full of shouted reports of 'justicar brutality.'
Given what justicars usually got up to, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what a hardened place like Ilium considered brutality.
The Spectre looked at the black smudges along the horizon in the distance as she steered the aircar along the haptically generated line on the windshield HUD, before sighing and coming in for a landing. There was nothing she could do about the unrest – showing up would, as her aunt had warned her, only make the damned clanless convinced the Council was out to get them too – why else would a Spectre be here, after all?
The South Silver tower was a good twenty-stories tall, one of a cluster of three towers linked to a warehouse and distribution hub. Most of the businesses in the towers were light industrial – optronics repackagers, electronic manufacturers, and the like. The data brokers known as the Vantirus Sisters were not the normal sort of clientele for such a locale, but Vasir could see why they chose it.
It was, in short, a pain in the ass to attack.
Standing on a small jutting outcrop bounded by the river Khei, the south tower in particular would be a nightmare to assault, although the north tower was no joke either. The tower was near two of Ilium's powerful GTS batteries, and the ground level was at the end of a wide plaza facing the warehouse – no cover at all. It didn't help that a group of black-and-silver armored turians, some private merc force, was perched in a dozen handy sniping locations, or that heavy combat mechs guarded every entrance.
The building's rooftop was wide enough to contain a landing area, but Vasir noted, as the car came to a stop atop the tower's roof, that cameras tracked her descent. She'd bet money there was a hidden GARDIAN cannon built into all the ornamental framework on the building's eaves, and she saw a volus missile mech watching her landing before turning back to scanning the sky. In her time as a Spectre she had seen a lot of security, but a mech armed with twenty antimatter flek missiles guarding an aircar landing pad was a bit out of the ordinary.
She stepped out of the car, glancing around for a second until seeing the entryway, and moved to the armored door. She triggered her omni-tool, and sent a comm request. A moment later, a mounted speaker box to one side of the door erupted into sound, a hard but still pleasant voice, with a weak Armali accent.
"Vantirus Information Systems."
Tela took a deep breath. "It's Tela."
The voice on the other end soured. "The door is unlocked. Head inside and enter the lift. Go to floor nineteen. We're in the offices across from the lift."
Tela nodded, entering the corridor, as pale gray track lights in the ceiling came on. She was still not sure how this would play out, given her role in events… but whatever happened was going to be better than just tagging along with the Broker's plans.
After all, she thought as she got into the lift and hit the haptic panel, I am a loose end. Not a formal part of his Network. For all his promises of getting me out when his Network leaves, he might just see me as a liability, especially given that he knows I'm unhappy. I know what he does to loose ends.
Of course, given who she was about to meet with, there was every possibility that her very presence would anger the people she was supposed to talk to.
Good job, let's set myself up so I'm fucked no matter what I do. Brilliant.
The lift descended rapidly, if a touch noisily, coming out into a boring gray-carpeted corridor trimmed in wooden paneling. She walked across to the doors inscribed with the company name and entered, glancing around.
She barely had time to take in the outlines of the small waiting area she was in – art on the walls, some kind of security mech behind a panel – before a pair of figures in black armaweave bodysuits walked through a heavy security door. One was taller than the other, and had a red-orange cybernetic eye replacement. Given that cybernetics were very rare for asari unless injured by very heavy burns or the like, the scar tissue trailing down the left side of her face visible above the black veil she wore was no surprise.
The silken face masks they wore revealed only their eyes as they came to a stop. "Spectre Tela Vasir."
She nodded. "We need to talk."
The taller one gestured to a meeting room visible through the open door, then turned to the shorter figure. "Trigger the vacuum shielding on the windows and the scrambler, please."
The other nodded and turned away, while Tela followed the taller one into the well-appointed conference room. The room was dominated by a table of black steel rimmed with wood, inset here and there with haptic screens. The far wall was a single pane of armaglass, showing the Ilium skyline, but it frosted over almost instantly as the tall one touched a button before sitting down at the head of the table.
Tela sat down across from her. "Aethyta did not give me many details."
As she spoke the shorter figure came in and shut the door behind her. Tela felt a tingle as some kind of jamming field powered up, even as the tall one nodded.
"But she had no issue in compromising our identities I presume?" The two of them pulled down their veils, revealing their faces.
Tela tilted her head. "Is it safe to speak? Don't want to step on anybody's crest." After a nod from the two, she gave a sigh. "To be honest I almost drew on her when she showed up. This has all been very carefully planned out on Aethyta's part and no one that I know thinks either of you are alive. I certainly haven't told anyone."
Liara nodded. "And our plans?"
"She told me pretty much nothing, except you two had some plan to try and kill Tetrimus." Vasir paused. "She also told me that she felt it would be best if we postponed those plans."
The shorter asari snorted. "Postponing isn't an option. And having you here wasn't in the plans."
Liara's visible eye was cold, narrow. "Which is why I am concerned at your presence, Spectre Vasir. You are not only a noted servant of the Broker… but directly responsible for the death of Shepard. Your presence given your affiliation makes it all too likely that your loyalties are divided."
Tela closed her eyes and nodded. "I am. Responsible, that is. I don't do work for the Broker any longer, if that is what you are asking. I am at fault for Shepard's death. I… could have said no to the Broker's request – but based on what he was saying, if I hadn't done it someone else would have."
Liara's eye narrowed. "You could have gone to the Council. You could have gone to the Council of Matriarchs. To my aithntar. To anyone!" Her voice elevated in rage and sound, and Tela merely met that single angry bloodshot eye.
And nodded. "I could have. I didn't. I didn't because I figured I'd just end up dead doing it, and probably so would you and Aethyta. In my view back then, Shepard was already dead. The only thing I could do was try to make sure you and Auntie weren't killed as well." She gave a weak sigh. "Humans, I told myself… don't live very long anyway."
Liara's gaze hardened even further, but Tela held up a hand. "That isn't an excuse, or a valid reason. In the passing of years, I've learned a lot of ugly truths about the Broker, which is why my thinking is different now. No amount of words is going to fix what I did, I know. The only way I can make up for what I did – for knowing what he would do, to Shepard, to you – is throw away my Spectre career and risk my life getting you and Telanya off this shithole planet and then fight the Broker myself."
Telanya gave a little breathy snort of black amusement. "Again with the leaving idea. Mighty convenient to do so now, when we finally have both a plan and an opportunity to kill the fucker who damn near killed us."
Tela folded her arms. "Like crashing a ship into the surface of the planet did?"
Liara glanced away. "That was a… poor, crest of the tide decision. We miscalculated."
Tela didn't look away. "You killed tens of thousands of innocent people, Liara. As fucked up as the Broker is even he doesn't do shit like that!"
Liara and Telanya both erupted into bitter laughter. "Spectre, I assure you, in our investigations and tracking, we've found he's done far worse than that." Liara stepped forward. "I still see no reason why I should trust you, or risk the last chance we may have at stopping the Broker by working with you when you might betray us."
Tela ran her hand over her crests. "I wouldn't betray Aunt Aethyta. Ever. I don't expect you to trust… or forgive. When this is all over if you want to kill me for what I caused, I won't fight back. Aethyta is… not doing well, and you of all people should know what she's gone through the past few years. The last thing she needs is her daughter dying to a stupid revenge killing or killing her niece."
Liara's mouth twisted. "This is more than a revenge killing. It is justice. Indeed, one could argue that such a view of the concept is the basis of the entire Justicar Order. I will not suggest my actions will not have ramifications. Instead, I will say that my life is empty. I have made attempts to move on. I can't. Neither can Telanya. Nothing is left for us but revenge, justice, or whatever may come."
Tela shook her head. "That may not be true. Our best analysis on the Butcher says she might actually be… Shepard."
Liara sighed. "We have dealt with fake sightings and 'theories' for more than two years. No matter what you do to a human, they cannot perform the sorts of things the Butcher does. I saw her death, I felt it through our link… and I know Shepard. I think I of all people would recognize her if it was her."
Telanya gave the Spectre a cold look. "It's pretty low to even suggest such a thing is possible."
Tela tilted her head. "The Systems Alliance believes it may have merit."
Telanya's hard voice took on a cutting edge of sarcasm. "Because the Alliance is real Goddess-damned trustworthy."
She let her arms drop. "If you don't want to believe in it, I can get that. What I can tell you is that your aithntar came with all of the living Black Blades, specifically to get you out of here and even up the score with Tetrimus."
Liara glanced at Telanya in shock, before turning back. "All of the Black Blades are here as well?"
Tela watched the two of them as they conversed quietly, then Liara faced Tela squarely. "…Where is my aithntar?"
Tela jerked her thumb to the south. "Still back at the ship. South docks. The situation out there is kind of bad, in case you missed it. Bad enough if the public sees me walking around, but if they saw her or the Black Blades…"
Liara winced. "I have learned more than I could ever wish to know about my aithntar's rather bloody past. I can see how that is a concern." She gave a hollow laugh. "I have other potential allies coming in soon, some of which would be… alarmed to see you."
Tela waited as Liara seemed to be lost in thought before Telanya nudged her. The taller asari smiled at the contact. "Apologies. I am having to alter a complicated plan on the fly. Head back to my aithntar and her people and tell them to meet… us… at the warehouse at Niethar Waveway, 49-sienla-5. We've stockpiled weapons, armor, unmarked and armored aircars, and other supplies there."
Tela glanced at the two of them. "And the plan?"
Liara smiled coolly. "Will be discussed once you all arrive. You understand that, despite your words, the only reason I haven't killed you is that you're working with my aithntar and I don't want her distressed."
Tela frowned. "I'm not exactly easy to kill, Liara."
The cool smile widened. "Oh? One and Two, decloak."
Tela's senses felt something behind her and she turned, only to see a pair of heavily modified war robots shimmering into view, each one holding an extremely large weapon trained on her back – one a krogan graal spike thrower, the other some kind of rechambered shotgun with a faintly glowing ammo block that she knew was probably anti-biotic in nature.
Telanya's smile was as cold as Liara's. "There's also a voice activated pulse dissipater built into the floor and we've both trained very hard on how to fight without any biotics, just in case that's what it takes to kill Tetrimus." The clanless's eyes narrowed. "Liara may hesitate to kill you. I will not. Get out and back to Aethyta."
The sheer frustrated rage in that quiet voice didn't alarm Tela so much as depress her. She merely nodded and headed back out the doors, waiting until she was in her aircar and airborne to tap her omni.
"Auntie, this is your favorite niece. I've met them. They want us to meet with everyone – she gave us a location point, I'll tell you when I get there. Have the ship ready to move."
Aethyta's voice was slightly alarmed. "I'm guessing they shit on the idea of just leaving?"
Tela sighed. "They're not even considering it. Maybe you can talk them out of it but they barely tolerated me and had me dead-bang the whole time in the meeting. These aren't frightened little kids, Auntie."
Aethyta's hard laughter was tinged with bitterness. "No shit, kiddo. Head on back, I'll get the girls loaded up and we'll pick up firstmeal along the way."
O-TWCD-O
Matriarch Trellani's eyes were cool and narrowed as she sat in the rear of the rented aircar, the heavy bulk of Jason Dunn driving the vehicle along the already crowded Nos Astra aerolanes as the sun began to rise. The explosions scattered about the city and the constant stream of gunships engaging rioting asari only made her lips quirk in bitter amusement.
The aircar soared over the outer sections of the city, the fab-blocks and wide aerolanes glittering with lights slowly fading as the sun rose, now occluded here and there with blocks of the Republican Guard and angry shouting clanless. This was in microcosm what she feared – that eventually the Thirty's endless quest for dominance and security would overcome any actual ideals of protectiveness, and the clanless and the clans would pay in slavery or blood.
Or worse.
She gritted her teeth, then let the feeling go, focusing instead on a calming ritual she'd learned in the Temple. The words slipped silently from her lips as she prepared for the day's events, her hand resting gently on the cool metal of her warp sword. She knew that there was a very good chance that she might die today, with her long-term goals unmet and her beloved family unavenged. If the day went poorly enough, Cerberus's goal itself might fail, and the Reapers would be unopposed.
Yet she found herself more tired than worried.
Everything that could be prepared was, including a long video for Jack, a collection of her knowledge for Shepard, sealed messages for a few trustworthy souls inside the Asari Republic, and a sixty-petabyte suicide file that would be burst transmitted by Vigil if she were murdered by justicars or Broker minions today. There was no guarantee the asari people would believe her words but she would not slip silently into the waters of oblivion without a final defiant shout.
As for her own knowledge, she'd recorded her own manifesto some time ago and would let Jack decide when to distribute it. She'd taught what few unique moves in blade dancing that she'd created to Shepard, written a final infuriating set of texts regarding asari culture for Minsta and his vapid daughter, and trusted Miranda's greed and jealousy enough to know that if she died Jack would still have someone he could trust in his bed.
All that remained was to, as the ever-crude but often oddly wise Dunn put it, roll the dice and see what came up. She finished her meditative focus and leaned back a bit in the comfortable leather of the seat, eyes moving over the serried and endless ranks of glittering buildings and needle-thin arching towers that comprised the city center of Nos Astra.
Commoners they might be, but the asari of Ilium had created a mighty edifice. She briefly wondered what the Republic and the asari people might have been like free of the cruelty and manipulation of the Thirty, then shook her head at such daydreams.
The time for that was later, if she survived. Now it was time for her to do what she did best: swim the seas of treachery, death, and misdirection. She touched the comm-link lead surgically implanted into her jawline, making it look as if she was merely rubbing her chin, her hand concealing her lips. "Lion, this is Priestess. Coming up on the building. Final report?"
The hard voice of Petrovsky answered her. "You appear to be clear of any tailing elements, Priestess. I wish you luck and you know what to do if things go off script. The support teams are already on the planet and the HAMMER team is ready to drop." His use of the code word for the ATLAS mechs, and their calls signs, was to avoid any clear grasp of who they were or what their forces were to any hackers or eavesdroppers. Ilium, after all, was well known for such things.
She nodded to herself. "And the ETA of the Party Train?" She still found the codename of Shepard's group – thought up by the biotic girl, Jack – to be amusing for reasons she didn't bother examining.
His voice dropped. "ETA until the rest of the party train arrives is less than six hours. I'm also inbound with the other five heavy units and the other HAMMER team, along with a large number of war mechs – we will be in system in one hour." There was a pause, then he spoke again. "The second group of teams and the mechs are going to be easily identified as our organization and HAMMER is likely to definitely create a level of, shall we say, consternation – so be aware of that if you call them down.
She smiled. "Hopefully I will not. But perhaps it is time this hound left the shadows and stepped fully into the light, Lion. I will contact you with additional developments as they occur."
He clicked off and she nodded to herself as she took a deep breath, even as Dunn's scarred hands tapped skillfully over the controls of the aircar. "Coming up on the South Silver tower. Docking port is… open, but there's an aircar there…" His eyes narrowed. "Picking up some comm chatter – local police are dealing with some kind of disturbances in the lower city. Not rioting yet, but definitely fighting."
Trellani's eyes narrowed further but she merely nodded. "Disturbances only provide us more cover for what we plan. As for the visitor… well, they are data brokers, Mr. Dunn. I would expect their most… exclusive clientele at firstmeal as most asari prefer to eat whilst doing business. Set us down and await my signal, in the event that I need your help."
He nodded, then chuckled as the aircar on the landing pad departed. "Looks like we're clear Matriarch. Here we go."
The aircar came down smoothly, the gleaming silver and blue machine settling onto the blackened non-skid surface of the landing pad without even a slight jostling, even as the wing-doors scissored open. Dressed in a heavy gray form-fitting dress, slit to the hip to reveal black boots, Trellani hung her sword on its black and gold baldric before adjusting her shawl and her ever-present Cerberus pin.
Her steps toward the single rooftop entry were calm and confident, but her senses were as alert as they could be. She came to the door and entered the simple code she'd been given by the Vantirus Sisters, then waited a few seconds before the speaker-box on the wall blared with sound.
"Vantirus Information Systems."
Trellani's voice was as calm as she could make it. "My name is Cora Harper, with BenCore Industries. I believe I had an appointment at firstmeal."
The voice on the other end of the comm sounded tired and somehow uncomfortable. "Yes, of course. I'm afraid we have some issues of concern in the city – come in." The door gave a heavy thunk as it unlocked. "There is a lift at the end of the corridor you will enter, it will bring you to floor nineteen. Our offices are directly across from the lift lobby."
Trellani inclined her head and opened the thick, heavy steel door. She immediately noted both the wide-band scanners inset into the walls, tastefully concealed by araki wood paneling, and the blunt, blackened steel dome of a security turret in the ceiling. She walked along the thickly carpeted floor and entered the lift.
She pressed the button for nineteen, the glass and brushed steel doors shutting behind her, and the lift descended quickly. She had no idea who would be in the office or why the information brokers thought she would be of use, but she loosened her warp sword in its scabbard and tapped her comm-link again.
"Be ready. There may be a complication. Stand by for data tap."
She triggered the comm-link's recording functions and set it to burst transmit if her vital signs faltered or if she spoke a codeword, as the lift doors opened. As promised, directly across from the lift was a pair of frosted glass doors set into steel and wooden paneling, the neat old asari script on them reading 'Vantirus Information' in a touch of the fashions of another time.
She walked across the lobby and opened the door, stepping into a fairly small but well appointed waiting area. Three couches, black leather, dominated the walls, flanked by small flame-trees in black ceramic pots. A piece of bizarre Prothean stone stelae dominated the walls above the couches, while the far wall was pierced by a security door and an inset window to one side with a mech.
The mech was clean and a newer model, one designed for both security and reception work, and as she came in, it spoke in a quiet voice. "Ms. Harper, the sisters will see you now. Please go through the door and enter the main conference room on your left."
Not bothering to respond, she followed the instructions, the security door retracting out of the way. The corridor beyond was done in flat gray paneling, dark gray carpeting, and opened out into a common area with several circular workspaces and a wall dominated by multiple data and news feeds. The dim lighting and gray atmosphere gave it a drowsy, almost depressing air.
The door to the right was also done in black and frosted glass, and was ajar. She pushed through it, coming into another room. Circular in shape, the far wall was armaglass, giving a broad view of the Ilium skyline that faded as she entered, the glass becoming frosted and opaque.
Two slender asari sat at one end of the table. One was much taller than the other, a single eye occluded by a glowing orange cybernetic fixture set in silver, and both of them had their faces concealed by thin, silken facial masks that meshed with the black shawls they wore. Their clothing was darkly functional – black armaweave bodysuits, black leather boots, and loose sleeves.
The taller one spoke first. "Cora Harper? That was the best name you could come up with, Matriarch?" Her voice was cool and precise, but had an edge to it that Trellani suspected was nervousness.
So, she had not been forgotten by the asari, even crazy ones. Good.
Still, she distrusted everything, and her senses were on edge for some reason. As a precaution, Trellani sent out a very subtle biotic pulse, one that barely affected the air… but revealed two cloaked forms to either side of the room.
Trellani eyed them dubiously, then rolled her head to smile at the pair. "I do not think additional security is needed for one tired old matriarch. As for the name, well, the man who chose it is… persuasive. And sadly maudlin."
The shorter of the two gave her a dark glare, but spoke. "Decloak." Two heavy war robots shimmered into view, each holding a heavy weapon trained on her.
She kept her voice light and amused, even as her hand prepared to fall into a draw and slash. "Is this how you treat all of your prospective clients?"
The taller of the two gave a very subtle human-style shrug, the motion looking odd on her frame. "Not at all… Matriarch Trellani. You will, of course, pardon the saying that one does not taunt a nexa without consequences. Your exploits are well known… as is your hatred of the Thirty. I am merely being prudent."
The matriarch's estimation of the girl rose slightly, if she was this steady in the face of her own reputation. It was clear the taller one was of the Thirty, which probably meant the shorter one was some clan or clanless adoptee… a rare situation.
Off the top of her head, she couldn't think of any of the Thirty who would fit – or lower themselves, rather – to the role of information broker. She shrugged, instead, and replied in a calm voice.
"That of course is expected… although it does beg the question, if you are so worried about my… exploits, why you even agreed to meet at all. One might even question what you want out of this meeting."
The taller one again answered. "I suspect, Matriarch, that what we want in the face of your own power is somewhat academic if it does not fall in line with your expectations."
The matriarch gave a dark, bitter laugh. "That is a fine verbal parry, child. Now, answer the question."
The shorter of the two spoke, her voice rougher and lower, her diction less precise. "Our primary client is looking for all the help they can get. We are only here to hear you out. We have had some minor dealings with Cerberus in the past few years, and our… primary client is not antagonistic towards the Illusive Man so much as they are utterly opposed to the Broker. That being said, we also have certain… issues with Cerberus."
Trellani gave a cautious nod. "If you have issues, why reach out to us? Certainly there must be other, less contentious groups."
The shorter one gave a bitter chuckle. "Lack of options, maybe. Or more likely, Cerberus is such an unlikely choice that we hope it won't be predicted. But no matter our decisions, our reasons for choosing Cerberus are simple."
The taller one picked up the sentence, single good eye narrowing. "First, the situation on Ilium has destabilized to the point that if we do not act now, we will not have a chance to do so in the future. Given what we have discovered about the Broker Network and its ultimate goals – and his definite connections to the Collectors – we feel having allies in this will only protect us and our principal client down the line." She made a gesture of siari unity. "Seeing as Cerberus is the only group who seems to grasp the connection between the Broker and Collectors, it would be easier to gain your aid than any other group."
She paused. "And the second reason we reached out is that the Sisters of Vengeance – who your Butcher has mentioned several times and who Cerberus has been asking about – might also be open to such alliances… and we would be rewarded for providing such."
Trellani's gaze strayed to the window as she considered their words, then back to the two data brokers again. "That is, I suppose fair. But I fail to see how I – and Cerberus – fit into this. The concern of the organization I represent is to secure the lives of the Sisters of Vengeance. I will certainly admit the Collectors are a problem we are dealing with, but we can't do it if we're distracted with fighting for our lives."
She gave them a cool smile. "No matter what you might gain from such a thing, a fight with the Broker on Ilium would attract a great deal of attention that we do not want. Becoming involved with the political antics of Ilium – and I assure this, what is happening right now with the justicars is intensely political – is something we definitely neither desire nor have the resources for."
She straightened. "And frankly, we have more dangerous enemies out there than the Broker – or the Collectors – to fight. I suspect that the Thirty already suspect my connection to Cerberus. Giving them a firm reason to oppose us only makes our final goals harder to reach."
The taller of the two sisters spoke. "We are aware of that… at least, that a fight would attract attention." She inclined her head. "The Sisters of Vengeance are our primary clients. We know Cerberus and the Broker are at odds, and thus potential allies to us."
Trellani kept her expression neutral. "No doubt. And their goal, these Sisters? We are unclear as to their ultimate targets, given their rather lax approach to collateral damage."
The taller one again gave a very human-seeming shrug, looking strange on the asari. Trellani filed that tidbit of a clue away even as she listened. "Coming from you, Matriarch, that borders on either ironic comedy or perhaps hypocrisy."
Trellani's expression slipped into a faint, crooked grin. "Or admiration for the madness of another? I do not condemn them. It is hard to complain about their methods when I have done worse."
The Vantirus Sisters glanced at each other almost uncertainly before the tall one continued. "That may be so. I can say that their goal is ultimately the destruction of the Broker, but there are intermediate steps, key among them is divining his location. They are of the belief that if they appear openly where the Broker's last people are operating from, they can draw out the lieutenant known as Tetrimus, who arrived today with a number of Broker assassination and combat teams."
The shorter tapped her omni-tool. "Tetrimus is confirmed to be one of a very small number of Broker personnel who know the location and defenses of the Broker's base that isn't equipped with some kind of neural bomb. He's also critical in projecting the Broker's power. We have a very narrow window in which the Sisters are certain that – based on combat simulations if they approach with proper caution – there is a very good chance of subduing him long enough for a mind rip."
The matriarch's muted sneer was echoed in her voice. "Many – including myself – have set their hand against the Broker, only to fail. The goal is indeed one we share, but we must be realistic about the chances. And that mind-rip technique is far more complex than you think, young ones."
The taller one gave a half-mocking bow. "Of course. We do not plan to do such a thing ourselves, and nor do the sisters. We have at least one matriarch who is very experienced at such things… and, of course, you yourself may be the finest practitioner of the mental arts in centuries. One reason the Republic fears you so much?"
Trellani let her hand relax. "My main concern is direct contact with the Sisters of Vengeance. While Cerberus also wishes the Broker network destroyed and one of my principal combatants is out for his blood directly… the situation, as you pointed out, on Ilium isn't conducive to long operations. Direct contact would allow us to make our offer: sanctuary, allies, a secure base of operations, unlimited funding, complete access to the Cerberus Network's intelligence, and a military strike group under the Butcher which has already proven its power."
The taller asari folded her arms, her body language closed. Trellani found the pair and their reactions curious. They had not offered their names, their families, or even chathesi tea or food. While she knew Ilium asari were often said to be different, the ones she had interacted with had clung more strongly to the old ways, as if to prove they were 'real' asari too.
These two did not fit, somehow. She dismissed this gut feeling and focused on the words the tall one spoke, after a few moments of consideration.
"While I hesitate to speak for our clients directly, I can say all of that is very attractive in terms of going after the Broker. But to the best of our knowledge, Cerberus has had no success in determining the Broker's location."
Trellani nodded grudgingly. "That is correct. We have, however, not really focused on looking since our group has been resurrected, along with other concerns." She made a sign of siari unity. "I'm confident with your own knowledge and that of the Sisters of Vengeance, we could localize him soon enough. The offer to the Sisters also applies to you two, should you wish to continue."
The two glanced at each other, before the taller one spoke again. "While such an option is certainly tempting, it clashes with our already established operational timeline, I suspect. The Sisters have already begun gathering forces for their final strike – the kickoff for this is in roughly three to four hours."
Trellani winced. Shepard and her much more powerful forces wouldn't be here for six hours. That meant she had Dunn, ten teams of Centurions, half in Cerberus armor, and twenty ATLAS mechs, also clearly Cerberus units. Running the odds in her head, that wouldn't be enough to wipe the Broker's teams off the map – maybe not even enough to break into the Dantius Towers.
Although, given the chaos in the streets… sacrificing them would make a fine diversion, albeit one she doubted Jack or Petrovsky would approve of.
She inhaled. "And your forces for this plan? How long will it take to execute?"
The shorter asari's mask twitched in what Trellani suspected was a smirk. "Assuming our plan goes off, it would just take a few hours. The Broker is being hosted at Dantius Towers, and is in the process of smuggling her off-world. They're busy hunting the Sisters, but they don't know we have a group of angry Remembrance Dancers and possibly a group of the Black Blades to assist in taking them down."
Trellani's eyes widened. "The Black Blades. There is a name I have not heard in a very long time. For them to emerge now, child, is rather… unusual. I would almost ask what would bring them to you since their loyalty was, after all to the Black Blade of the Vasir, who perished on Omega."
The two asari said nothing, only gave small shrugs. The taller one spoke after a moment. "If your people are interested, then they can meet with the rest at the following location : Niethar Waveway, 49-sienla-5. We'll be launching in, as I said, three to four hours."
Trellani sighed. "While I do have some combat assets on hand, we have additional strike teams on the way. The complication is that they won't arrive for roughly six hours – is there no way to delay this?"
The shorter one shook her head. "No. It's too risky to try and reschedule shit at the last minute, Matriarch. Besides, who could actually be coming that would make a difference?"
Trellani smiled. "The Butcher and the Archangel."
The taller of the two asari seemed to be lost in thought, then shook her head abruptly. "No, we cannot wait, and in any event we have no time – in six hours I'm sure the Broker's forces will be on the hunt themselves. If they show up they can assist in extracting our clients."
Trellani nodded at this, then inclined her head. "I need a moment to contact my people. Is that acceptable?"
The shorter one's folded arms rose in a shrug. "You can… but why not just tell them on the way back?"
Trellani's smile widened. "Because, young ones, I will be going with you to meet the Sisters." She had a suspicion the division between the Vantirus Sisters and the Sisters of Vengeance was just a cover, and in any event she didn't see the point of dropping with a pile of human mercenaries onto a planet where literally every asari who saw her would want her dead on sight.
The shorter one's eyes narrowed. "Any reason why?"
Trellani gave an elegant shrug of her own. "Mostly because I think it is very likely something may spin out of control here before your strike is ready, and I do not wish to be out of place at that time. But also because the Justicar Order is out in force and you would have a better idea of how to move safely through the city than I. For obvious reasons I do not wish to be… detained."
The taller one's gaze never left hers. "…I see. That is wise. And yes, you can communicate with your allies. I trust you do not mind if we listen in?"
"Not at all." Trellani tapped her hidden comm-link again. "Lion, this is Priestess. Deployment status, please. I'm currently with the Vantirus Sisters and the timeline has shifted."
Petrovsky's voice was crisp and clear over her comm-link, clearly relaying his muted frustration. "Teams are on the ground but my heavy assets in orbit are going to be difficult to deploy without attracting a lot of attention, Priestess. Secondaries will be on station in less than half an hour, but as I mentioned earlier they aren't… decorated correctly."
Trellani's expression didn't waver. "Good. Have your men on the ground rendezvous with me and allied forces in two hours, fifty minutes at the following address : Niethar Waveway, 49-sienla-5. That is, I believe, in the industrial sector."
"Understood, Priestess. And the party train?"
She grimaced. "Inform the party train the party is going to be starting without them and to expect… trouble. Even more trouble than we expected. This is going to be a mess."
Petrovsky's voice held muted amusement. "So, given our operations thus far, nothing out of the ordinary."
O-TWCD-O
The main Eclipse forces pulled out of Ilium long ago, but fragmented remnants of the gang remained on Ilium, intermixing aimlessly with other asari criminal elements. They rarely if ever, of course, preyed on other asari – most of their targets were the many aliens who worked, lived, and traveled to Ilium for business or pleasure. They enjoyed their freedoms, both from most legal oversight and from Sederis, and were ready for a fight.
Thus the justicars that smashed through the Cansa Residential block weren't expecting dug in gang-bangers. The firefight that erupted was surprisingly vicious for asari-on-asari combat. The local Eclipse leader, a ragged ex-clan member known as Vivta, triggered explosives rigged with shrapnel along the side of the abandoned warehouses that the Republican Guard column marched down – the only real access to the interior of the block.
The trap had originally been set up to stop other gangs, but that didn't reduce its efficiency.
The explosions tore through the ranks, killing dozens and crippling more. Debris pinged harmlessly off of the barrier field of the justicar in charge who answered with a sun-bright flare of biotic power that blew apart the nearest building with shooters inside to burning wreckage. The resulting exchange of blasts and counter blasts reduced most of another warehouse that had been converted into an apartment block full of innocents didn't stop either side.
In seconds, gangers swarmed from the roofs, firing and flinging grenades, while more poured out of the warehouses on either side, establishing a vicious crossfire. Unused to direct resistance, the Justicar Commander hesitated – and in that moment, a sniper hit her with an anti-biotic round that shattered her barriers, as a second one sighted in on her head.
The Guard forces panicked when the justicar's head came apart in splashes of purple and chunks of meat, shifting from suppressive and incapacitating fire to heavy weapons. Dozens of blasts rang out in all directions, military power rifles punching through the flimsy armor and poor kinetic barriers or shaky barriers of the gangers.
The Guard Commander reported a justicar had been slain on the open channel, rather than the secure line to the Hunter's Circle Commander. By the time things had been sorted out, the Guard units had slaughtered everything in the immediate area, including dozens of civilians, and the rest of the justicar force in orbit, not deployed at the outset so as to not unduly panic Ilium's Court of Corporations, dropped in righteous fury.
Sixty-seven justicars and over fifty trainees, disembarked at the capital and began the process of establishing martial law, as the fleet commander ignored orders from the Hunter's Circle and following Justicar Samara's instructions, dropped another fifteen thousand troops on the ground.
The effect was like dumping nitroglycerin onto a raging fire.
Three of the CEOs of the court angrily demanded the 'invading forces' stand down, and when they did not had their own private security forces armor up and get ready for a fight. Two more sent hired assassins to the GTS control tower, slaughtering the Republican Guard there who'd taken command of it to prevent 'incidents' and then fortified themselves within, backed up by a trio of tanks and heavy battle-suits.
Hackers and troublemakers spread the reports and twisted the truth on the extranet, and more gangers and angry – or scared – clanless 'defense militias' hastily assembled, and prepared to fight.
Angry communications from the Court and the Fleet Commander, interspersed with various icy threats from Justicar Samara, did little to alleviate the problem. Nassana Dantius was nowhere to be found, with her people reporting she'd fled the planet with P. of all people.
The first serious fight erupted at the main bridge across the river that bisected the city, just as Justicar Vhira had indicated. The Republican Guard advanced in echelon formations, rank upon rank of Spear of Athame rifles leveled as the commandos in the middle ranks began firing sniper rifles and hurling biotics. The back ranks erected barriers and walls, deflecting any incoming fire and answering heavier impacts with warp blasts and flares.
Barring their way was a mix of mercenaries, civilians, criminals, gangers, and a handful of light security mechs. While the civilians' fire was wild and ineffective and their positions taken more out of convenience than tactical planning, the mercenaries presented a stiffer and harder target. These were not rent-a-cops or low-grade fodder but veterans, and were mostly composed of a mix of turian and asari merc units, intermixed with the occasional human or salarian. They had faced asari in combat before.
But they had not faced justicars.
As the lead elements of the Guard stepped onto the bridge, the red-suited forms of the justicars burst ahead, flashing through the sword kanquess to hit the defensive mercenary line in a burst of blinding blue fires. Trained to exhaustion for decades, each justicar hit the ground at nearly the same moment, immediately pushing out shockwaves, followed by shrapnel grenades.
The merc lines crumbled inwards in a moment, lightly-built salarians flying through the air while heavier turians stumbled and lost their footing. Grenade explosions tore through them a split-second later, white-hot shrapnel pinging off of stronger kinetic shields or shredding those it hit. The justicars wasted no time – three of them linked hands, while the rest flung out blades of force and flares.
The civilians that lived through the initial fusillade didn't even have time to reposition before their world exploded. The entire far side of the bridge lit up in a hellish explosion of blue-white light and several older buildings on either side of the street collapsed. Choking clouds of obscuring smoke went up, while warpfire raced over the mercenaries and the gangers behind them, burning and searing. Dozens went down in seconds, screaming in agony as their armor melted to their bodies.
The justicars did not relent as they walked forward in eerie, calm silence, firing their shotguns. With the bridge clear the Guard marched across swiftly, firing to suppress the other forces rushing to reinforce the few survivors at the bridge. Massed rapid plasma fire from the Guard's heavy weapons teams raked the scattering forces, preventing them from reforming any kind of defensive position. Still, a stubborn core of mercs hung on to their positions, well aware of the fact that with the planet blockaded there was nowhere to run.
Samara herself, hands linked with two of the Everchosen, priestess-justicars, opened her pale gray eyes and gave a calm, sad smile before she pulsed her biotics.
A field of writhing white light rushed forward in a growing semicircle, and as it hit the mercenaries the screams of agony that rose from their ranks redoubled. Turians and asari, salarians and humans – everything the wave hit fell to the ground, writhing in unspeakable pain as electrical charges ground out in their nervous systems. The few who escaped it ran, only to be blasted down by additional bolts of warpfire.
Samara's voice was calm. "Feel the wrath of Athame, and find mercy and peace in her embrace." She focused and the light intensified, and then the dying mercenaries began exploding into clouds of burning warpfire.
Not everyone hit by the wave detonated, but dozens of them did so. Some came apart in swirls of blue warpfire, others blew apart in cascades of smoking flesh and blood. Warp energies lashed across those standing or fallen nearby, burning and killing as it spread.
In less than two minutes, five hundred and eleven mercenaries and gangers were dead with a hundred more wounded. The Republican Guard did not even slow their march as they tramped across the smoking, befouled duraplast plaza pausing only to shoot the few survivors clinging to life as they passed or to use biotics to shove blackened and charred bodies or piles of smoking armor and the wreckage of flesh inside out of the way.
Camera drones high above sent their images to the rest of the galaxy who could only watch in horror as the Guard began firing high-explosives into the hab-blocks surrounding the far side of the river, clearing an area for more forces to land unopposed. When the first battle-suits and heavier mercenary forces began approaching from the city center a few minutes later the justicars were already prepared.
O-TWCD-O
Strike Trooper Marcus Nozno watched the data feed in disgust. An asari woman was fleeing down a side-street, carrying a pair of children – a small asari child, and a small human girl. A human male was following her, a pistol in his hand, looking over his back.
A second later a storm of plasma bolts hit the man, incinerating his back and leg. He fell to the ground, dead, and the asari stopped in horror. A bolt of warpfire hit her and the children dead on, and all that was left a few seconds later was burning cloth and bones.
"This is BULLSHIT, sir. Why are they just shooting civvies? And why the fuck are we just standing here?"
Centurion Leader Patrick Vask gritted his teeth. "We have our orders. As messed up as this is, we have bigger things to worry about. We're not here to defend a bunch of blues, Nozno. Until we get the word–"
"Fuck that. I didn't sign up with the Dog because I fucking like blues or spikes, but this is… sick. They're just burning and shooting everything that even moves. Humans are dying out there, and kids, and… FUCK!" The heavily built man in hastily painted black armor smashed his fist into the nearby wall of the abandoned warehouse.
The others in the team looked a mix of pissed, upset, or faintly sick. Vask knew this was going to end badly. They'd expected things to maybe go hot with the Broker, not for the asari version of the Commissars to have a goddamned grilling contest with little kids and civilians.
The data feed showed a small asari child crawling away from another scene of murder, burns across her chest and face, who reached out for her dead mother. The latter didn't move, and the small child fell back, crying. A moment later an asari in red armor walked up to the child and, with casual ease, used biotics to snap her neck.
"For fuck's sake, man!"
Vask closed his eyes and tapped his comm-link. "Fox to Lion, come in."
Petrovsky's clipped voice sounded. "This is Lion."
"Sir… this shit the justicars are doing—"
Petrovsky's voice hardened. "I'll stop you right there, Fox. I know. It's sickening to watch. But if we go active now, we're throwing away any support for our big hitters when they show up to go after the real target. We don't have the manpower to stop this travesty."
Vask looked at the datafeed again. Civilians – asari, humans, salarians, even a quarian – were firing back at a group of heavy Republican Guard soldiers, who were shielded by a biotic field that deflected most of their fire. Asari commandos flashed in via kanquess behind the civilians, lashing out with warpfire that killed the quarian and most of the salarians in a flash. A turian leapt atop one of the commandos, tearing open her throat with his claws before two more commandos shot him dead, riddling his body with dozens of flechette rounds.
Nozno shook his head. "Sir…what the fuck do we even stand for? Is it the protection of humanity? Because there are humans out there being gunned the fuck down by alien monsters. From down here, not much difference between a human kid and an asari one. And we both know if we dropped the HAMMER teams, twenty of them would turn this stupid pack of blues into dogfood."
Petrovsky was silent for several seconds before speaking. "Your team will remain in place. Priestess is moving and will message you shortly, your orders are to protect her life and follow her orders. I will contact both the Party Train and the Big Man and… express your issues. Lion out."
Vask sighed, and spat. "The general is gonna ask, but we're ordered to follow the orders of Trellani."
One of the other men, a heavy weapons gunner named Green, gave a hard laugh. "Well, that bitch hates asari even more than we do, sir. Can't really see her letting us cut loose." He watched a justicar get blown apart by massed fire from several humans and gave a savage smile. "Cowards, all of them. Who the fuck goes after civvies with gunships and fucking war priestesses?"
Vask squared his shoulders. "Remember that, men, when someone starts talking shit about the Dog. Aliens ain't no better…and this clusterfuck? This is some bullshit. If the boss okays it, I'm thinking maybe twenty ATLAS suits can stop this nightmare long enough for the Ilium mercs to get their lines together."
"And when the Butcher gets here, sir?"
Vask smiled. As one of the most senior Centurions, he knew exactly who the Butcher really was. "Oh, then you are gonna see something to behold, boys. You think this pisses you off? She's gonna fucking flip out and make what she did on Umlor look like a goddamned back rub."
Nozno nodded. "Irony, asari killing asari over killing asari. Fuck."
O-TWCD-O
"Pressly, ETA to arrival?"
Shepard sat calmly in her personal quarters checking over her armor one last time before she would don it. The Normandy had set out at top speed to reach Ilium shortly after Matriarch Trellani, but had been slightly delayed.
The Illusive Man had just QEC'd her, informing her that the Vantirus Sisters had declined to wait for her arrival. According to them a plan – with various allies – was already in place to take down and capture Tetrimus and force the Broker's location from his mind.
Based on what Shepard had read about Tetrimus, and her own experiences, she didn't have a lot of faith in the Sisters of Vengeance pulling that shit off. Given that the fucker had turned her own team and some of Cerberus's own badasses into hamburger by himself the only good thing about the Sisters trying to take him down was maybe they'd take his combat edge off or even wound him before dying horribly.
Pressly's voice sounded stiff and tired, probably because he'd been scrambling like a madman to get the ship back into fighting trim on short notice from the beating they'd taken at Horizon. "Just under three hours, ma'am. Latest news reports show the fighting is getting a lot worse – the asari are dropping additional storm-level units on the ground." He paused, his voice troubled. "The images coming in are… pretty bad, ma'am."
Shepard grimaced. A Guard storm was roughly equivalent to an Alliance battalion, around ten thousand soldiers. If things had gotten to the point where fighting required full out military force already, God knew how it would end up. "Understood, XO. That's all."
She clicked off, rubbing the back of her head as she took in the heavy suit of armor spread out on her bed. She didn't like the sound of Pressly's voice when he said the images were bad, and she was almost scared to turn on the data feed repeater and load up things from the extranet. Trudy had already made it clear, in her final briefing before they launched, that the Thirty were likely going to turn Ilium into a bloodbath. The whys didn't matter to Shepard. All that mattered was, yet again, vile assholes were murdering innocents for some fucked up 'higher ideals.'
She was about to get back to running diagnostics to distract herself when her door chimed. "Enter."
Garrus stepped through, wearing another black and silver jumpsuit. "Miranda said you'd holed up in here. I was watching the Ilium feeds… the justicars have lost their entire minds. Figured I'd swing by, see how you were holding together before this next vakar-pit we're about to jump into, because it already looks nasty."
Shepard snorted. "I've got a bad feeling about this trip, Chicken, no shit. Ilium is about to blow the fuck up – or is already blowing up – and we're going to be at ground zero, yay. There's enough ships, troops, and badasses down there that us going in will just make shit worse, and the stuff I'm hearing makes me think the Thirty just turned the justicars loose and told them to go to town on the place."
He nodded. "Ilium is almost as messed up as Omega, in some ways. They dress it up a lot and keep it out of the public eye, but that doesn't make it any better." He flicked a mandible. "Part of me says cleaning up the criminals and what not is always a good thing… but most of me knows the justicars tend to see 'justice' as 'kill everything in the area' and a lot of people whose only crime was living in the wrong place at the wrong time are going to suffer."
She snorted. "The Thirty need to stop imitating the fucking Alliance." She ran a hand through her hair. "Problem is, whatever is going down there, I won't be able to stop it. It pisses me off, but I'm more worried about our job. How bad will it be? I wish we had a mission sometimes where I didn't walk into a goddamned mess."
He sat down on the couch, flicking a mandible in amusement. "I'm sorry, but that was always how things were in the good old days and nothing I saw on Omega or Horizon seems to have changed that. I can't remember a single time we did a combat drop that didn't immediately go directly to a pile of steaming vakar shit." He tilted his head. "So what's really eating you?"
She flopped down on the bed, hands in her lap. "All kinds of things. Thinking about Horizon. Wondering if I'll have to write these people off like I did the Horizoners. Remembering Liara. Wondering if I'm already forgetting her. Wondering if what we're doing is even going to fix shit…or just make things worse."
Garrus grunted. "You doubt yourself that much?"
She waved a hand in an irritated, vague gesture towards the back of the ship, which amused Garrus. "It's not doubt so much as… uncertainty. About where I stand. Talking to Kelly makes my head hurt, talking to TIM makes me want to punch him even though he's right. I feel like crap for having to run out on those poor bastards on Horizon, and look at me – feeling sorry for myself when they're the ones who got incinerated."
Garrus nodded slowly. "…for a while, I was worried that it didn't seem to bother you. But you've gotten better at keeping your feelings hidden. And it's harder to pick up on your emotions via smell."
She shrugged. "I felt so fucking angry that I didn't think about what happened on a larger scale until later." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, then ran her hand through her hair. "And how fucked up is that?"
Garrus shrugged. "It's not fucked up. Not really, Sheep. Melenis pointed out to me not too long ago that I was the same way when I… recovered. So angry about Tel, so wanting to hit back at the Broker that I didn't see or care what the Angels were trying to do to help people." He shifted a bit. "I got better. You will too. It's not easy… or quick."
He leaned forward. "But more than that? We had no idea what we were heading into. If we'd known they had star killing tork-shit, we'd have done more than stood around filling our gizzards. Even Pressly didn't foresee that, and we both know he thinks of everything." He leaned back. "You can't get them all perfect."
She gave a twitch of a smile. "I know. But losing three of my marines was a wake-up call. Not that I haven't lost before… but just having more resources doesn't mean we're going to win."
Garrus said nothing for a moment, then bowed his head slightly. "You may be right. I won't knock the resources – if I had Cerberus backing on Omega, I could have cleaned the station out. But you need to look at the long run. We're going to lose more, Sara. A lot more. The Collectors? Bad enough. But you and I both know they're just flunkies. When the Reapers do show up in force… Spirits, I can't even imagine how many will die."
Her voice sank to a whisper. "I can. I saw it, in the Beacon. Entire worlds set on fire, Garrus, or blasted to… chunks of rock. Endless black things in the sky, thousands, tens of thousands. And every kind of fucked up corruption you can imagine of the Protheans. They turned the kids into husks."
She shook her head to clear it. "And this is the shit the fucking Broker is probably doing business with, if TIM is right."
Garrus gave a careful smile. "I think the only thing you can do is prepare as much as you can, then go with the flow of whatever happens. If we can take down the Broker and show the Reapers are an imminent threat then we can still at least have a chance of putting up a fight."
She opened her mouth to speak when Miranda's voice came across the comm channel. "Shepard, it's Miranda. There's been a development on Ilium. Someone killed a bunch of justicars with some kind of plasma bomb. The rest of the Asari Second Fleet is on its way to reinforce the part of it currently in orbit, ETA is nine hours. Right now the units on the ground are trying to put the entire world into martial law and have started killing anything and everything that resists."
She walked over to the comm panel and tapped it. "Understood. Have Tali and Kiala go over the IES system and make sure we're good, and have everyone set for high speed maneuvers before we hit the system."
She clicked off and glanced at Garrus. "This should be fucking fun."
He didn't even bother to shrug, leaning all the way back on the couch. "It can't be any worse than Noveria."
She snorted. "Oh? The Citadel was easier?"
"…Point noted, Sheep."
O-TWCD-O
As Aethyta and her team headed towards the rendezvous with Liara, and the Cerberus team on Ilium slowly headed in the same direction, things on Ilium took an immediate turn for the worse.
Rioting in the poorer parts of Nos Astra had become all-out combat with the entire Republican Guard force now outnumbered by mercenary units, gangs, and angry armed civilians. Heavy fighting raged near the river dividing the 'lower' suburbs and the hab-stacks from the 'upper' city and downtown, with hundreds of dead civilians already. Asari extranet casts were in shocked, almost traumatized disbelief – asari did not, under even stressful situations, kill asari.
When the Triune Unity cultists had done so under Benezia it had lead to a backlash that existed to this day. To see such brutal violence openly displayed – and the cruel, often needless heavy weapons fire from the Republican Guard that tore into ranks of screaming asari civilians – was something the asari simply could not process.
And yet, from the media reaction, the clanless of the Republic blamed the people of Ilium rather than the justicars, for the violence.
Torn bodies, stained with purple and faces locked in rictus expressions of agony and fear floated down the river while the lower city burned out of control. Emergency service teams took fire from both sides as asari medics and police attempted to evacuate wounded and civilians only to find that the Republican Guard and the justicars trying to arrest people at the hospitals.
The chaos was total, and the justicar assaults to restore order only seemed to make things worse. To be fair, there were teams of Lifeshaper medics with the Guard that were dealing with the wounded and a handful of cleanup teams in the rear areas were already setting up camps for those made homeless. But, to the eyes of many outsiders, the savage assault on their own world made no sense.
Political commentators made a number of comparisons to the sort of brutal justice the human Commissars usually dealt in, and even called upon the Commissariat to comment. The High Commissar, rather than commenting on the nature of the assault, instead offered the Justicar Order any assistance it might need in recapturing Ilium criminals who might have fled to human space.
The Council of Matriarchs made no attempts to intervene despite heavy media backlash when images of the fighting hit the extranet. Matriarch T'Armal transmitted almost fifty terabytes of evidence showing the corruption of the court, dealings with Aria, and other incriminating evidence, but many media sources pointed out that the fighting wasn't just killing Ilium's criminal rich, but the disadvantaged poor.
No one missed the more subtle message. Cyone, a semi-independent mining colony, cautiously invited the justicars to establish a permanent outpost on the world an hour after images hit the extranet. Tyasis, another independant world, sent communications to the Thirty inquiring about how to go about formally becoming part of the Republic.
The clanless of the Republic also got the intended message and that was what many asari newscasts focused on – despite the brutality and overkill, not a single major clanless leader spoke up in support of Ilium. No protests rang out across Thessia. The clanless simply watched, closed their eyes, and went back to their own lives and problems.
Justicar Mistress Layana refused all media interview requests, instead preparing an entire group of her own ships loaded with almost a hundred more justicars and a dozen war priestesses, to head to the planet.
The Clan Councils could not come to a unanimous agreement that what was happening needed to stop – despite the words of Uressa T'Shora, the Clans eventually put out a statement saying that Ilium's chaos had killed more innocents, especially in the last week, than any justicar action ever could and that hard problems required hard choices.
The remaining CEOs of Ilium's Court of Corporations, finding themselves without any recourse and facing arrest followed by immediate execution, had already sent a direct message to the Citadel, demanding the Citadel enforce their own codes of lawful conduct. Sparatus, keenly aware of the Court's meddling and work with the Volus to destabilize the Hierarchy's economy, had been very pleased when the Council had voted to not get involved and took excessive pleasure in personally messaging the Court of Corporations and cheerily telling them they should have learned the lesson Noveria did about remaining aloof from Citadel law.
The fighting was furious and brutal for many reasons, but most had to do with justicars making things worse. They saw those who lived in close proximity to criminals as enablers. Those who did business with them as patrons. They shot down aliens and maidens and children for no more reason than the Sutra's called for the cleansing of anything that might be guilty rather than allowing innocence to let evil survive.
Their inflexible code – and their mental conditioning that did not allow them to bend – made it impossible to find any kind of coherent compromise that would lead to a cease-fire. Nor did they want one. The Republican Guard, on the other hand, was simply unused to heavy combat – and retaliated in fury as much as fear. Unused to being resisted by civilians, and rarely deployed in heavy urban combat, the disdain they felt for the people of Ilium quickly translated into hate.
The media drones recorded it all – the screams of the Guard as echelons were broken by charging suicide attackers, the howl of plasma blasts searing the air and burning cruel wounds in both sides, the brutal biotic attacks of the justicars that didn't bother to worry about fleeing civilians if even one criminal was brought down in the attack.
The asari had always said their kind did not kill one another. That was proven a lie, as it became clear there was a great deal of long-buried hate between those under the sway of the Thirty and those free of their grip. The latter would not – perhaps could not – imagine living like that again and would rather die than submit.
As the fighting grew more savage, both sides made calls for air support from their ships. The asari fleet itself, still in orbit, had gone to full battle readiness, as had the Ilium defense force – five storm cruisers, a dozen line and battle cruisers, and almost fifty raiders and frigates – had taken up high orbital positions and the GTS arrays on the planet's moons had them locked up. So far, the admiral of the Ilium Defense Committee had refused to pull the trigger, despite screaming demands from the Corporate Court. She knew full well that any fight between her ships and the Second Fleet, in low orbit, would wreck the entire planet just from missed shots and crashing wreckage.
On the other hand, the 2nd Fleet's Valsharess was unwilling to force the IDC's hand. Orbital fire support might be useful, but it would also escalate this far beyond a mere police action into all out warfare… and Ilium's GTS defenses were very strong. When the rest of the fleet arrived she might make an action, but she held her ground for now.
The Broker's teams were already busy. Six kill teams and four heavy combat teams had aided the Ilium Defense Hunter Group in locking down the planetary command center, and more were slowly spreading out, looking for clues to the location of the Sisters of Vengeance.
All of this was merely backdrop to Tazzik, as he entered the crumbling ruins some eighty kilometers outside of Nos Astra. The mossy ground cover of the planet and the strange, sickle shaped trees that layered it thickly were missing here, exposing only barren, ugly brown rock streaked with stains of reddish iron ore here and there.
The ruins were built into the end of a valley, towering peaks extending upwards into the sky like spears, their sides sheer and weathered. Carven statues lined the crumbled old path down the middle of the valley, asari bent into seizas of supplication or reverence, and strange wide panels dug into the rock and filled with thick and ancient asari script.
Three Broker information teams were set up in the valley, mostly exiled quarians and a handful of salarians, but their leader approached Tazzik as he walked up. The figure was an elcor, his hide weathered and his eyes replaced with a band of cybernetics. A pair of drones hovered behind him, lights glinting off the black slicksuit the elcor wore.
"With relief: I am glad you are here, Vorah Tazzik. The thing in the ruins is unsettling." The looming alien used the term of respect among his people, and Tazzik nodded curtly.
"I bet it is. Then again, given what's going on in Nos Astra, I'm not sure which is the safer location. What's the situation and where is Almnrut?"
The elcor turned to face the huge set of carven doors at the end of the valley. "Cautiously: the geth thing is in the ruins themselves. There have been no approaches since we took possession of the site." The elcor paused, then continued. "Worriedly: while we suppressed the teams here, it is unknown if Nassana Dantius kept the site truly secret."
Tazzik's breathing holes contracted in amusement. "I would not bet money on it, Vorah Juhalor. Very well. Have your team pack and burst transmit all we've found, then be ready to pull out quickly. Are the charges already set?"
"With slight trepidation: yes, they are. I am aware of how the Broker operates… but the intel teams here have gathered troubling information. Concern: We are not being liquidated?"
Tazzik clapped a hand on the bigger alien's fore-shoulder. "Not today, at least. We're not P.'s band of fucking savages. We've had to wipe a few teams due to what they discovered, but this…"
He smiled. "No, this we need all the independent verification we can get. We pull out in one hour. Brief your people."
Tazzik turned to the leader of the heavy combat teams he had with him. "Set up at the mouth of the valley, and be ready for anything. The bullshit in the city should keep everyone occupied, but we can't take chances. If not for what we found down here, the Broker would have written this shithole off two years ago, so keep that in mind: fuck up now and you'll WISH you'd get killed."
He turned and headed towards the massive doors, glancing over the ruins themselves, the faint and crumbled signs of settlement and the all-too-familiar looking signs of MHD weapon strikes here and there. They weren't recent…
He reached the doors and pushed them open, the ancient hinges groaning as he did so. The ruins had been old, more than a thousand years old. The Broker was unusual in having teams focused on archaeology but more than once such things had paid off.
The hall beyond the doors was massive. Hewn from the rock by the use of heavy biotics ages ago, the glossy sheen of the rock evidence of the power used, marred here and there by streaks of melted stone and blast impacts of some ancient battle. Tazzik walked slowly down the wide passage, seeing side rooms cut into the hall every fifty or so paces – some collapsed, others open to show nothing but dust and rubble.
The hall opened into a larger, open hemispherical space of titanic proportions, the top of the room lost in shadows. The center of the room was occupied by a floor-to-ceiling pillar of stone, in which were embedded hundreds of greenish-white crystals in a complex pattern. Some glowed faintly, but most were dark.
The chamber had more rooms splitting off from it and the walls were worked in complex stelae like shapes that Tazzik slowly realized were Prothean, not asari. The walls, aside from the stelae, were covered in complex diagrams and scripts showing some form of massive device. He took another step forward and the figure at the center of the room slowly turned.
The broad and powerful shape of the geth warform once known as Prime 302 was, for lack of any other word, battered. Tazzik still felt pride at defeating the giant machine in his battle on the Citadel, but what the Broker had done with it bothered him.
Implanted in the chest of the geth was a dark pyramidal shape, sunk deeply into the material and with veins of ropy black corruption radiating outwards from it. The geth itself was merely a platform for this device, something given to them by the Collectors and carefully isolated. The pyramid itself was unnerving – it was always cold in the area where it was at and some of the Brokers techs had reported hearing voices during the implantation process.
Given what the Network knew about the Reapers, it was hardly a surprise to Tazzik the Broker was not about to keep the thing anywhere near him. The Broker's distrust of such a device and the need for rapidly analyzing what was found on Ilium combined with the available body to produce the single most frightening monstrosity Tazzik had ever seen beyond the Broker himself.
The geth spoke, but not as a geth would. The voice that erupted into the silence was grating yet somehow mocking, a chorus of mistimed grinding gears, and a subsonic tone that made Tazzik's ears and teeth ache and his reflexes quiver.
"You have arrived."
Tazzik nodded cautiously. "We have. I am instructing our data team to withdraw. Did you finish deciphering this… place, Almnrut?"
The geth-thing moved away from the center of the room, which had been hidden behind its bulk. A Prothean beacon stood there, with a wide and complex set of shallow panels full of liquid around it in a semicircle, faint shapes floating above the liquid in Prothean script. "It has been amusing. The asari-servitor creatures plans are laid bare now, and it is… a problem. Not one that cannot be undone, merely yet another annoyance in the path of the Ascent."
Tazzik frowned. From what he understood, the pyramid things were like a remote terminal for a Reaper intelligence. What in the Collapse could be a problem to that? "Could you be more specific? Is there an action the Broker Network needs to take?"
The machine looked back at the equipment, then turned back to Tazzik, the geth's baleful glowing eye fixed on him. "No. Organic life is by definition incapable of grasping certain truths until it has elevated itself. The wandering mystic who uncovered these truths fled our agents and was destroyed, but did not comprehend what she had seen. She tried to leave notes and writings of her understandings, but most of them are not a threat."
It extended a hand, and a crack of sound and flash of blackness erupted into the room. Tazzik felt something – a sensation, a pressure – and then the entire plinth and the beacon were simply gone, free floating ashes tumbling to a heat-blackened ground.
"The asari who found her discoveries are too ignorant of the truth to make use of it. The Sethani, however… were more clever than we anticipated. The carvings and instructions here have illuminated their plans."
Tazzik folded his arms. "How?"
Almnrut stomped forward, the heavy Geth Prime frame moving almost sluggishly, as if in protest. "The Sethani left instructions to their chosen pets – the humans and asari – on how to construct certain devices that can… impede… the power of the Ascended Host. These devices are also by their very nature breaches of the Severity."
Tazzik understood that clearly enough. Tetrimus' astronomy teams had seen what was out there in the dark, something eating up entire galaxies at a single go. If Reapers felt the need to hide from such a thing, normal plain old mortals wouldn't have a chance. "Breaching the Severity is what calls that… thing to us?"
Almnrut paused to extend hands towards the panels in the walls, and a moment later the dozens of intricately carved stelae shattered into fragments and dust, cascading down in a shower of rubble. "Yes, that is a simple but accurate assessment. Those you call Inusannon attempted to use such a device and were destroyed. It is a… perversion of technology and the records here indicate the Sethani did not even know how it worked… yet planned for their pets to build it."
Tazzik tilted his head. "And it's taken all this time to figure it out?"
Almnrut walked along the walls, destroying more carvings there. "No. To trace the information. And decipher the blueprints. Dilinaga did not – could not – destroy the Sethani equipment but she did scramble and damage it. I have been examining it – many plans of the Sethani are now laid bare. They were, for mortals, formidable and stubborn."
"Their plan is unlikely to work. But there is information – the blueprint for this device – that must be destroyed. Now I know where the rest of the blueprint is and we can destroy it once and for all."
Tazzik nodded. "And the whole mess with the clans and what not the boss was going on about?"
Almnrut destroyed a final panel. "Pointless. Those the asari call the Clans somehow found this place when this world was used for mining. They kept it secret from the master-class known as the Thirty. They used various political methods to gather information and prepare a revolution against their masters, to reveal this truth."
The prime paused. "The clanless-asari were pawns in this. The clans have realized the truth about their 'goddess' and the Thirty and now some of the clanless know as well. It is… amusing that your cycle may very well destroy itself without the guiding hand of the Ascended."
Tazzik's jaw tightened. "It's that bad?"
Almnrut walked towards him. "The asari goddess was an AI designed to subjugate the asari and turn them into a vanguard method of control, who would worship the Sethani when some of them awoke from suspended animation. That plan has failed… but the Thirty have twisted the conditioning to their own purposes."
Tazzik shook his head. Fucking asari. He sometimes wished the SIX would get off their damned nests and do something about those crazy tramps, or that the Broker would, but no… He cleared his thoughts and gave a grim smile. "Well, that would cause problems, yes. Now what?"
Almnrut said nothing for almost twenty seconds, then shifted its gaze. "I am detecting incoming assault vehicles. The race known as salarians. Comms emissions indicate they are STG."
Tazzik cursed, tapping his omni. "All teams, incoming STG hostiles. Shift to hot." Tapping a different control, he commed Tetrimus. "This is Alpha site, we have Code Five. Repeat, Code Five."
Tetrimus' voice on the comm-link sounded tired. "Understood. Dispatching combat teams. We are preparing at Beta Site."
Tazzik headed for the door. "Can you fight in that thing?"
The geth unit seemed to be considering something. "I am unsure of the effectivity of the unit for combat. However, there is another use it has. This particular class-3 perversion is a linked network. While in order to retain control of the unit I cannot allow it to receive or download… I am not limited in sending."
Tazzik paused. "…Sending what?"
The pyramid in the center of the geth's chest pulsed. "A command to the geth." There was something in the thing's voice that made Tazzik's skin crawl, an amused, almost malicious tone beyond its normal feel of wrongness.
He considered what this might mean and was almost afraid to ask. "…A command to do what?"
"Distract. The STG will be here in minutes, organic. I would have your combat units prepare for a fight."
Tazzik frowned. "And how exactly do we get you out of here? That form is not small or inconspicuous."
The pyramid's glow was brighter. "This unit is not needed for further analysis. Nor suited for any other purpose. Inform the Broker that the observers will contact him shortly."
Then the pyramid simply vanished, and the geth Prime unit gave a stricken digital cry and crashed to the ground, unmoving. Tazzik stared at it and sighed, unslinging his lance cannon.
"Well, that probably wasn't a good sign. At least it's the STG and not the fucking Deathwatch."
