A/N- Hope everyone is having a wonderful holidays, and a very happy New Year!
Unlike some older asari, Melara never thought it strange or disconcerting to see a quarian out of an environmental suit. Thanks to their alliance with the geth, who had implemented measures to strengthen their immune systems, quarians had not been required to wear environmental suits even off world since Melara was about five years old. She had vague memories of seeing her Aunt Tali in one when she'd come to visit once, but that was all. Pictures and old vids of quarians during the time of the War and previous were what Melara found strange. Their suits were beautiful but to her, they looked like walking prisons.
The quarians had spent the time during the war not only rebuilding their people, but reaffirming their place in the galactic community. Now no longer confined to suits, ships, or even Rannoch, they had settled colonies all over Citadel space and even wide areas of the Traverse. Most didn't even use the archaic practice of including in their name their ship or colony of origin any more, and while a great number of them still made the best engineers and tech experts in the galaxy, they had long since spread into a variety of other fields. There were even quarian Spectres now.
Her only surprise at seeing Red wasn't in her lack of an environmental suit, but simply at how young and guileless she looked. Her hair was a shade of platinum blond that was nearly white, shaved in a pattern on one side and allowed to grow long otherwise. Stripped of her jump suit she remained in a simple skin suit, the black lines of pigment over her tan skin mingling with bold tribal tattoos along the back of her hands and wrists, and part of her neck. She was sitting on the bench in her brig cell as if she were on a transport taking a sight-seeing tour, completely unconcerned. When she saw Shepard, she smiled a bit.
"I was wondering if I'd get to meet you face to face," she said as Melara stopped at the barrier.
"I need to know where you got that artifact you were trying to sell Moore."
"No doubt. Mel- can I call you Mel, or is that too informal? I'm never sure of the rules of social graces. Mel, you see, I'm in a bit of a bind. As you'll no doubt discover soon I've got no outstanding warrants and technically didn't really do anything wrong. You see, I'm not a criminal, I just do occasional business with them. I find- legitimately, mind, legally- rare artifacts and trinkets and I sell them to those most interested. So, here's my dilemma. You're going to deliver me to C-Sec where I'll sit cooling my heels for a while until I'm charged with abetting that ass Moore because I had knowledge of his slaves but did not turn him in. I might get assault. At most, I'm looking at a mandatory slap on the wrist sentence of about six months, at which point I'll be free to go and start work again. If I tell you where I got my artifact, well…you're going to go all official Spectre-ish and toddle your ship to that location and everything is going to be confiscated. And that's really bad for my business. I need to make a living and eat just like everyone else. You see my conundrum?"
Melara lifted a brow, arms folded. "I see. You actually have no idea what that artifact is, do you?"
Red shrugged. "It's an old relic. It'd make a pretty belt, but it's rather useless for all that. Moore wanted it and offered a rather sizable sum for it. I expect its antiquity and uniqueness will pique the interests of other collectors of rare items but beyond that-"
"So I thought," Melara replied. "So let me tell you how this is really going to go, Red- may I call you Red? You see, you're facing charges a bit more stiff than mere abetting and possibly assault. For one thing, we've talked to the salarians we retrieved from Moore's ship. That assault you're talking about? The salarian whose fingers you bent is from one of the wealthiest and most prestigious families not only on Sur'Kesh, but in the galaxy. His name is Mott Solus- recognize it? Yes, the same family as Mordin Solus, the war hero who gave his life to free the krogan from the genophage. That makes it a little more complicated than simple assault- his family is going to be howling for your head, and the Council is very likely to grant it to them in the form of…oh, about fifteen more years in a hard labor high security penal colony."
Red had gone still, looking at Mel. "Oh, my. Well then. Oopsie on my part."
"'Oopsie' indeed, but that's not even the worst of it. That artifact you tried to sell? It's inactive, but it's one of the rarest and most deadly weapons of mass destruction this galaxy has ever seen. When the Council finds out you had it, and tried to sell it to a known criminal, they're going to get you for weapons' trafficking, illegal possession of advanced technology in violation of the Galactic Equal Advancement treaty, illegal possession of a weapon of mass destruction, terrorism- oh, and high treason. Most of those individual charges alone would bring a life sentence at hard labor in that high security penal colony I mentioned- the last one will get you executed."
"Then the situation is a bit stickier than I thought."
"Precisely. So let's make it a bit less sticky, shall we? You tell me where you got that artifact- give me the exact circumstances and direct me to the exact coordinates- and I use my pull with the Council to get at least four of those charges dropped. I don't think you honestly knew what you had, or intended to sell something so dangerous to a bastard like Moore. You'll still be facing about fifteen years at hard labor, but you can look forward to getting out at some point, and better yet, keeping your head. It's your choice."
Red pursed her lips, one bare foot tapping on the floor momentarily in an anxious, thoughtful twitch. Then, she hopped up to her feet. "I'll tell you what," she said. "You let me think on that very very carefully for a little while, hmm? I like to be thorough and consider all angles, especially when it comes to my head staying on or parting ways with my shoulders. I will give everything you said the full weight of my attention and consideration, and get right back to you with my answer."
Melara dropped her arms, straightening. Her expression was fixed but her displeasure shone in her eyes. "You do that. We'll be at the Citadel soon and you'll be leaving this cell for a high security one at C-Sec. You have until I come and see you again there to give me your answer. Consider very carefully, Red."
"I will. I will indeed. Most carefully, I assure you."
She watched the asari Spectre turn and walk away. The moment Melara was out of sight, Red sank down into a sit on the floor of her cell, covering her face. "Keelah. Keelah. Ifil'ako bosh'tet! What have you gotten yourself into now?"
Just as the Normandy fell out of ultra-light speed at Pluto, Melara's omni-tool lit up. Surprised to see it was a message from her sister, she quickly accessed it. It was short and simple and infuriatingly undetailed, sent not only to her but her mother and niece as well.
I am safe, but cannot discuss details now. I am not at Oasis, please do not go there searching for me. I will contact you all within the next few hours. Please forgive me. Irie.
If nothing else, it actually increased Melara's concern for her sister's welfare, rather than alleviating it. If Irie was not at Oasis, where was she? Why had she missed their anniversary call, and why had she not answered her omni-tool in days? While Irie was more than capable of taking care of herself, Melara strongly disliked the entire feel of this. Something huge had to be going on for Irie to be acting in this manner.
I cannot be concerned with it right now, she thought as she switched it off again. I have two high-value prisoners to deliver, a report to give, and a case to plea that has literally millions of lives depending on it.
She would just have to trust that Irie would keep her promise and call in a few hours, put Mel's mind to rest. For now, it was out of her hands. Even were she free to go looking, she had no idea where her sister was or what the situation might be- looking for her might actually make things worse.
Goddess, keep her safe.
Almost the moment the Normandy had clamped in to her private berth the activity quickly refocused her on duty. The salarian victims were offloaded first, delivered into the hands of medics and a few representatives of not only their families but the salarian government as a whole. They would be treated and debriefed, and given whatever physical or psychological help they would need to get their lives back on track.
Once the salarians were dealt with, Vina and the security team retrieved both Moore and Red, escorting them in Melara's wake as she left the ship. A rather sizable compliment of armed C-Sec officers were waiting to take custody.
"It would be best to keep them in separate areas," she told the commanding officer as his men took custody of them. "She's not too pleased with Moore right now. You give her half a chance you'll probably have a dead slaver on your hands rather than a prisoner for trial."
"Not that I'd shed too many tears over that," the officer said dryly, then nodded. "Will do."
"I have to go and see the Council. I'll be back down later to talk with her some more. She has information that I need."
"We can set up an interrogation room if you'd like," he said. "The Council should be waiting for you. Your sister is probably already there."
That halted her, and she blinked at him in surprise. "My sister? Irie is here?"
"Yeah, thought you knew. She contacted us before she docked in a tiny merchant ship two slips over, about twenty minutes ago. Requested a couple of my boys escort her and her pilot directly to the Chambers. Seemed in an awful hurry."
"I see. Thank you, Lieutenant."
As C-Sec took the prisoners away, Vina dismissed the security team and headed over to her captain. Melara glanced at her. "Come with me to the Council. We have a lot to report…and to learn, it would seem."
The two headed directly for the Council tower, saying little on the way. Despite her rigidity and her near constant military professionalism, Vina was one of Melara's dearest and most trusted friends. When the asari had finally accepted the title of Spectre, her then current Alliance rank of Captain had been frozen, and while she had been free before to hand-pick her own crew she had been limited to a pool of Alliance soldiers. The title of Spectre brought with it the additional freedom of choosing even those outside of the Alliance- and much like her father, she chose her crew based on their incredible skill and talent, ignoring species or the occasionally unfortunate past history.
Vina was one of these. When Mel had first met her, she was a merc captain in the Blood Suns, a hybrid gang formed when a number of Blue Suns and Blood Pack had decided to splinter into their own group. Vina's past was colored with a number of dark and unfortunate deeds, and she had her own fair share of blood on her hands. It was a fact that the turian had worked hard to get past, and it still- Melara knew- tormented her.
When they'd met, Melara had been intent on killing her. The Blood Suns had fouled up a major drug shipment and when the Spectre descended on them, several had taken civilian hostages- including young children. By the time Melara had arrived, Vina had killed two of her own men and was threatening the others at gunpoint, ordering them to release the children. One of the mothers, carrying an infant, managed to break away from a wounded merc and he'd shot at her- hitting Vina in the process as she stepped between his bullet and the fleeing woman.
Melara's team took care of the rest in short time, and none of the hostages were injured. She'd ordered Vina, badly wounded and dying, to be taken to the Normandy infirmary. The turian had survived, and after she'd recovered, left. Two years passed, the Spectre and the former merc keeping in contact. Vina became one of Melara's underground informants, before the turian realized she could no longer live the kind of life she had been. She wanted the chance to actually do some good in the galaxy, and make up for some of the damage her young and stupid self had caused. Melara welcomed the opportunity to give her that chance, and for the last four years Vina had been an exemplary first officer. Melara would and did trust her with her life, and Vina knew she owed Mel a debt she could never hope to repay. Vina's loyalty to the Spectre was unbreakable.
They reached the Council tower, the guard immediately clearing them and unlocking the elevator. Up in the common area, they had to pass through another set of guards who cleared them quickly. The one in charge opened the anteroom door with his palm print and nodded.
"They're in full session and waiting for you, ma'am. I'm sorry, but your XO will have to remain here. The Council has declared this meeting highly confidential, and only you are cleared to enter."
Mel frowned, then nodded at Vina, her disquiet only growing. The Council knew that she trusted her XO implicitly and Vina had never before been excluded from even the most sensitive meetings and assignments they'd given to the Spectre.
Vina made no protest, only nodded in return and stepped back to wait as Melara stepped into the anteroom, the door sliding shut and sealing behind her. A scan cleared her of any bugs or listening devices and automatically powered off her omni-tool. It could be repowered inside, but at least five Councilors had to give the command through their consoles. It was part of the security measures Liara had put into place to make sure the Chambers were inaccessible by the Broker or any other hostile intelligence.
Stepping through the final anteroom door into the meeting Chamber itself, Melara had a passing thought of how her father might have felt seeing the new Council for the first time after the War had ended. Instead of only three members representing the elite species of the galaxy, the Council now numbered twelve, one representative of each space-faring and civilized species that so desired it granted a chair and a voice in their governing. Of all of them, only the batarians and the vorcha did not have a seat-the former because they had declined any interest in it, the latter because they had no mind or want for politics, possessing no real organization or structure among their widely scattered people.
The Councilors sat (or stood, in the case of the elcor and hanar) around a giant horse-shoe table, a console display inset before each. As they stepped in, the Head Councilor- an asari matron named Karina V'Dess- was speaking to Irie, who stood in the center of the horseshoe with an unfamiliar human man.
"-if what you say is accurate, Dr. T'Soni- and we have no reason to doubt you- this is cause for great alarm. I- good. Captain, please step forward. We have been waiting for your arrival. Your sister has come to us with deeply troubling news. Doctor, we will activate your omni-tool so that you are able to present your evidence. Please repeat what you have told us for your sister's benefit."
"Of course," Irie said. She barely glanced at Melara as her younger sibling stopped at her side, and Mel didn't miss the way her normally cool and incredibly collected sister was trembling. As several of the Councilors filed through their displays to authorize and power Irie's omni-tool, she began to speak, describing quickly her project and the way the megascope worked, and what she had hoped to accomplish with it.
"Then we had our first successful test run, and were able to view the Andromeda galaxy with only a minor red shift differential…thank you."
The latter was said as her omni-tool suddenly powered. Immediately she lifted it and accessed it, projecting a holographic display of their recordings from the test. The Andromeda galaxy appeared hovering just over her head. "This was the first image we were able to capture. I asked my team if we could move into a closer magnification, and we retrieved this."
The next image showed the galaxy even brighter and closer and sharper than before. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed upon it. Melara's narrowed a little. "What are those?"
"That was precisely my question," Irie said in a hushed voice. "I also noticed the scattering of specks ranked evenly over the image, and asked if we could magnify close enough to see one in detail. We succeeded but due to the power drain on our systems, we were only able to get a single image spanning a split second of time. This image."
The picture shifted once again. This time, everyone in the room gasped, even those who knew what was coming.
Melara felt her blood turn to ice and took a step backward unconsciously, staring at the holographic image of the reaper for what felt like an eternity before a heavy shock seemed to strike her in the chest. It took a moment for her to realize that strike was her own heartbeat.
The initial moment of shocked silence was quickly replaced by a wellspring of voices as everyone seemed to speak all at once, expressing their horror and disbelief and shouting questions until one voice could not be separated from the others. Melara, Irie, and the strange man at Irie's side were the only ones that stayed silent.
Several times, V'Dess tried to gain order. Finally she touched her console, a loud squeal slicing through the noise. As the others looked at her, startled, she said, "I understand the alarm that this news brings, but we must have order. Irie, who else knows of this discovery?"
"My team on Oasis. They are fully vetted and I trust them to keep quiet about this news, at least for a very long while. I took great pains to make sure this information did not leak into the greater galaxy-that is why I came in person rather than transmit this over potentially compromised signals. They and those present here in this room are the only ones who know."
"Captain Pradesh, you understand we will have to make sure you are vetted and not a security risk. This information is far too sensitive, and if it leaked there could be a massive, galaxy-wide panic."
"I understand and am aware, Madame Councilor," replied the strange human man.
"Good. What else do we know, Irie?"
"I left my team with orders to follow up as I was en route here. I kept my omni-tool powered off in transit to prevent hacking, but my assistant had orders to send me a simple confirmation of those tests. One moment."
She filed through her tool, internally wincing at the number of messages from her family trying to find out where she was and if she was all right. Finally, she found the single message left by King, not two hours before. It was only three words.
Yes. No motion.
"I have it," she said, looking up at the gathering politicians. "I asked her to scan Andromeda again and verify whether or not those Reapers were in motion. I also asked her to check the other galaxies in our local cluster. She has just confirmed. The Reapers are present around each galaxy in our cluster, and the ones at Andromeda appear to be dormant- there is no discernible movement or activity that she can detect."
"That, at least, is something of a relief-" V'Dess said, then caught sight of the look on Melara's face. "Captain?"
"Irie, can you bring up the other image again? The one showing the Reapers around Andromeda from a distance?" Melara asked, ignoring the Councilor.
Irie did so, and the galaxy once more appeared. The Reapers were just visible if indiscernible, nothing more than a collection of odd black specks. Melara turned her head a bit, then the other way, narrowing her eyes.
"Captain? You see something we do not?" V'Dess asked.
"During the War, it was learned that the Reapers lay dormant in dark space until they activate and begin their Cycle. Once that Cycle is done, they return to dark space and dormancy until the next civilizations rise," she said thoughtfully.
"Yes, that is correct."
"All right. But this pattern here-" She waved a hand over the image, indicating the slumbering Reaper specks. "This doesn't look like waiting or regrouping, and it doesn't seem a sound strategy for dormancy."
"King verifies they are dormant," Irie said, and Melara nodded.
"Yes, I know, and I think they are, but Reapers are vulnerable when they are dormant. They run on very minimal power during the hibernation stage of their Cycle. When they're out they have little to nothing in the way of shields, weapons systems, or flight controls. They require an external signal to reactivate. Here, that was Sovereign's job. A single Reaper that stays behind, stays awake, monitors the situation in the galaxy, and sends that signal to activate its brethren when the time comes. Also, what we know of their invasion tactics…they should be clustered together, a huge armada, closely associated, in a small region of dark space just outside the galaxy. When they initially invade, they invade as a group- all coming in at once, together. They hit hard and in huge numbers before they start spreading out to isolate systems. This formation here, they're already all spread out, regimented- and from what I can tell, equidistant but vast light years apart from each other. At their FTL capabilities it would take them hundreds of years, if not thousands, to spread out like that and then cluster in again in order to invade together at a single entry point."
"The Ferbian Signatures…" the quarian Councilor said, rubbing his chin nervously . V'Dess looked at him.
"Laykin?"
He folded his hands to keep them from fiddling. "Dr. T'Soni and any other astrophysicist would have heard of them. About sixty years after the war, Dr. Keblo Ferbia detected odd energy signatures out in dark space with new, highly sensitive equipment. These signatures are almost identical to those given off by our individual relays, only weaker. The underlying radiation signatures do not match the known radiation patterns of eezo. Most claim these are merely natural phenomenon, but others have theorized they represent another relay system out in dark space, one that doesn't run on dark energy cores but another power source about half as strong."
"How many of these signatures have been found?"
He shrugged. "I'd have to check, but I believe at least six or seven. They are very widely dispersed and their weak signal strength seems to fluctuate on occasion- I don't know if they've discovered yet why. If they are some kind of relay system, it is smaller and more rudimentary than our own. Attempts have even been made to try to connect to that theoretical external network from our internal one with no success."
"If those relays are real and scattered at specific points, then theoretically it would only take each quadrant or section of Reapers about two years to reach their nearest relay," Irie said. "That is more in keeping with what we experienced here. That external network- if it exists- forms a way for the Reapers to cluster relatively quickly to a master relay, which has the only bridge connection to the Citadel."
"Which we know must be activated by the Keepers, and thereafter responds only to specific Reaper signals for back and forth travel- signals we have been unable to emulate thus far," Melara said.
"Yes, "the volus delegate said. "When your father blocked their entry at the Citadel, the clustered Reapers simply proceeded en masse to the edge of the galaxy nearest to their master external relay; the Bahak system. It took them time to traverse the dark space between the external relay and batarian space. If this hypothetical external relay system connected at any other point than the Citadel to the internal, they would simply have poured through at any other relay and would have had no need for the Citadel to begin with."
"But why create that kind of system?" The drell asked, confused. "An external relay system to allow the Reapers to move easily around dark space when necessary, but one that only joins to the internal system at a single location, forcing them to swarm through one point rather than hitting every relay in the galaxy at once?"
"It is anyone's guess," Irie said. "The Reapers may have just taken advantage of a system that was already in place at their initial arrival. It could be that it was built the way it was specifically to prevent the civilizations of the galaxy from accidentally accessing the external system from this side-"
Melara's spoke up suddenly , interrupting her. "That's it, Irie. That's just what I was thinking. Taking these positions while dormant-this isn't in keeping with their siege behavior, nor is it efficient for merely waiting for their next activation signal. They're forming a very widely dispersed but remarkably evenly spaced strategic web around Andromeda. Irie, the last image again please?"
As Irie pulled up the image of the full-scale reaper, Melara snapped her fingers. "Yes, you see? Look. Here, along its edge. That faint distortion. That's a connective energy field, extended and shared between the Reaper ships and no doubt powered by ambient radiation so as not to drain their eezo cores."
She broke her eyes away from the image and looked at the Head Councilor.
"If I saw foot troops or any of our fleets taking up this kind of position around a given target or location, generating a connective energy field between them, I would know exactly what they were doing, and it wouldn't be 'strategically waiting to invade.'"
"What would it be, Captain?
"It would be a quarantine."