4. De-Ciphered
The ship touched down on the beach. Saren disembarked and ordered his geth to take the ship to dock.
He stepped back and watched it take off, blowing the white sand back as it rose. He stood, savoring the warm breeze. Virmire's salty ocean air was a pleasant contrast to the Thorian's rotten stench.
Virmire reminded him of Palaven, though he was not nostalgic for his old homeworld. Far from it, in fact. Since Desolas's death, he'd come to despise Palaven. Its leaders ignored his brother's sacrifice and the Council forced them to make nice to the humans. General Desolas Arterius, once considered a hero within the Hierarchy, was now forgotten by those who once lauded him.
And now the humans have a Spectre of their own. Saren snarled. Desolas would have hated that.
Saren turned and marched along the empty beach towards his complex.
In any event, this planet had much less radiation and the locale was appealing enough to his specialists, a tropical paradise to reward their work.
Many enterprising colonials had tried to claim Virmire, only to invariably come under attack from the Terminus System's motley collection of criminals. Most people now avoided the planet, making it the perfect place to build a research complex.
Saren neared the doors, guarded by two geth trooper sentries. They opened the doors for him, but did not turn or otherwise acknowledge his approach. Saren strode into the cool, dim hallway, making his way to the elevator.
The geth had proved useful in the construction of his complex. An organic crew might have let something slip, accidentally or otherwise, but the geth worked quietly without drawing unwanted attention. And they don't make demands. The perfect laborers.
He rode the elevator, thinking. The asari said the Cipher would take time to understand. The visions she'd given him were almost indistinguishable from the beacons' visions.
Hopefully the geth would retrieve her alive. Perhaps she would absorb even more of the Thorian's memory after prolonged close contact. He didn't want any more mistakes.
He entered Dr. Tanra's lab.
The mottled green-skinned salarian was talking to the new neuroscientist. The pitch of his voice rose as he gestured wildly at his console screen. The asari faced the salarian, nodding at whatever he had said.
Saren discovered Dr. Rana Thanoptis at the University of Armali on Thessia, working in their neural research labs. She'd written her doctoral dissertation about the possibility of using neural implants to modify behavior, specifically that of Ardat-Yakshi. Her writing had been roundly criticized and controversial, so the university buried her in the labs where she wouldn't cause a stir. It had been almost embarrassingly easy to pry her away.
He passed through without stopping, paying no attention to Tanra's rambling. There would be time to hear their indoctrination reports later.
Saren made his way up the Communication Tower, shifting impatiently in the elevator. He walked down the stairs of the comm. room to his real reason for building his base: a beacon, identical to its partner on Eden Prime.
He'd found this one first, his team dragging it up from the depths of Virmire's ocean. Unfortunately, the message had important parts missing, which was not surprising, given its age and location. There was no telling how saltwater might degrade its encoding. He'd been stymied until the humans had dug another one up. But even the both beacons together didn't clarify the message.
He approached it again, hoping that this time the Cipher would make sense of things.
The green ripples reached out and jerked Saren off the ground. He tensed before the visions slammed his mind.
Rapid fire flashes. A prayer. Light in the sky. Red. It sees! People running, terror. Metal on metal. It has me! Don't let it take me! Please don't- Blood, blood everywhere. It hurts! Teeth, screaming. Despair. Despair. Despair. It's tearing me apart! A blade comes down. Make it stop makeitstopMAKEITSTOP! A wall of sound. Total eclipse. A Reaper darkens the sky.
Saren hit the floor on his knees, gasping. His head throbbed. His arms quaked as he tried to lift himself from the ground so he stopped, laying on the cool floor while he tried to regain his bearings.
He still couldn't understand the message. Sovereign would not be pleased.
Sovereign. Saren forced himself up, legs wobbling. He made his way up the ramp, slowly, where Sovereign's hologram was already waiting. He tamped down on his foreboding. Sovereign did not like displays of weakness.
"SAREN." The deep boom sliced through his mind. It lodged in his chest and buzzed in the back of his mind, right on the edge of pain. "DO YOU COMPREHEND THE MESSAGE?"
"No, Sovereign." Saren bowed his head in a show of submission, sub-harmonics vibrating apologetically. "There were new images this time, but I still could not make sense of them. The asari said the Prothean ancestral memories would take time to become clear."
"UNACCEPTABLE ORGANIC WEAKNESS." Sovereign glowed an angry red. "WE WILL NOT TOLERATE FAILURE."
The buzz in Saren's head became a roar that threatened to drown out his other senses.
"FIND ANOTHER WAY." The roar intensified into a tsunami of sound, pressing down, crushing his mind. It was all Saren could do to remain standing.
The hologram vanished and Saren exhaled a shaky breath, holding on the railing.
He closed his eyes, gathering his wits about him. The roar was gone, letting him think clearly, but his legs were still wobbling from the exertion.
Sovereign was not happy. Then again, it was never happy, but that was only to be expected from a giant death-machine.
Saren rubbed his head. That could have gone worse, he thought as he staggered to the elevator. By Sovereign's standards, that little display was the equivalent of a finger wag. Saren shuddered to think what it might do if he actually failed.
It could have gone better as well, he thought, bracing himself against the elevator wall. Just how am I supposed to find another way?
He exited the elevator and turned corner, headed to Dr. Tanra's indoctrination lab.
The door to the Communications Tower opened and Benezia entered. She looked up and Saren stopped, waiting for her to approach.
"Saren," Benezia said, stopping a few feet away. "You look troubled. Is there something I can do to assist?"
He waved an arm, dismissing her. "The Cipher did not decode the message."
"It did not work?" Benezia looked surprised. "Then how—"
"Silence," Saren snarled.
Benezia closed her mouth.
"If the beacons do not work, I will find another way. I will find some way to understand the Protheans."
"If I may?" Benezia dipped her head. "My daughter, Liara ... she has always been fascinated by the Protheans." Benezia gave a proud little smile. "She has become quite the expert on them, even at such a young age. I am sure she would like to discover the fate of the Protheans for herself."
Saren considered this. An asari Prothean expert ... She could see the Cipher from his mind. He could expose her to the beacon and force her to tell him what the Conduit is and how to use it.
Saren nodded. "Where is she?"
"I'm afraid that I do not know. I have not spoken to my daughter in many years, since she went off to university on Thessia." Benezia shook her head. "I know her digs cost a great deal and she has not asked me for credits in nearly forty years. She is likely getting the funding from university grants. Perhaps they would have a record there."
He brushed past her, headed to the lab. "Find her."
"Of course, Saren."
The door shut and he crossed the bridge deep in thought.
He would have Benezia find her daughter and any Prothean research the girl had done. Mothers were wont to brag about their offspring, but even if Benezia was exaggerating, he could probably still use her. And if his geth could not retrieve Shiala, he'd need a replacement asari anyway.
Plus, having her daughter on hand would be helpful if Benezia ever gets out of line.
The door opened on the far side of the wall and Saren strolled in.
"Oh, Agent Saren!" Dr. Tanra practically bounced up to him, a smile on his face. "Pleasure, pleasure to see you! Have you come about the reports?"
"Yes, Doctor." Saren nodded briskly. "But first, how is our new specialist?"
"Ah, yes!" Tanra's under lids flickered with excitement. "Rana's studies of species-specific neural structures are very interesting. Her theories about plasticity and mental encoding are absolutely riveting. I think we will work well together."
"Glad to hear it." Saren turned to the beaming neuro-specialist, an asari with black, dotted facial tattoos above her eyes and stripes on her crest. Saren smiled welcomingly. "How are you settling in, Ms. Thanoptis?"
"Very well, thank you." She smiled. "Your labs are so nice and open, with such a beautiful view. It's very different from the stuffy ones I've worked in."
"Of course," Saren purred. "I provide the best for my people. If there's anything you need to settle in—"
The asari gave a little laugh. "I've never had such easy access to cutting-edge resources in my life. I don't think I could ask for more."
"Well, if you do think of anything, let me know." Saren smiled. "I want everyone working at their highest potential and will spare no expense to give you what you need to do it."
"Agent Saren is very generous." Tanra nodded emphatically. "He provides everything I ask for."
"That is very kind of you to say, Doctor." Saren tipped his head in false modesty. "Now, how about those reports?"
"Come this way." Tanra scurried over to the console.
Saren followed at a leisurely pace. On the screen was a Reaper artifact, isolated in one of the lower labs. It was almost identical to the one Desolas had found under Temple Palaven.
"See this here?" Tanra pointed to a string of fluctuating numbers in the lower left-hand screen.
"Yes." Saren tilted his head. The numbers appeared to correspond to the graph in the lower right corner, which was shifting in an oscillating pattern. "It looks like it's pulsing."
"Yes!" Tanra smiled and bounced on his toes. "Exactly!"
Saren waited for a minute. When no explanation was forthcoming, he sighed. "And this is important why, Doctor?"
"This monitor measures changes in electromagnetic fields," he said quickly, seeing the look on Saren's face. "This artifact is generating a weak electromagnetic pulse. Then, this here," Tanra said, shifting the screen's view and pointing to a new set of numbers, "measures sound frequencies. As you can see, it peaks on either end of the spectrum with a gap in the middle."
Saren shook his head. Salarians. "I'm a soldier, Doctor, not a scientist. Explain it simply, please."
"Well," Tanra said, tapping his chin. "It means that your artifact is generating EM fields, pulses and creating infra- and ultrasounds. No audible sounds at all."
"Both infrasound and ultrasound have complex effects on organic minds," Rana piped up from across the room. Saren turned, focusing his attention on her. "Uh, they can cause people to feel certain emotions and strange sensations," she said, nervous now that he was looking at her.
He gave her a smile. That seemed to encourage her, so she continued.
"Those kinds of sounds can cause all sorts of phenomenon in the brain. According to those graphs," she nodded to the console, "the sounds peak well outside the hearing range of any organic, but they only emit those sounds when organics are present."
"Really?"
"Yes!" Tanra nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly what I was saying. And those EM fields, look!" He pointed to the screen, now showing transformed colonists in the room with the artifact. They appeared to be standing near it, motionless.
Saren watched for a moment.
"And?" He looked at the salarian, starting to wonder if he had made a mistake in choosing him. He was a brilliant scientist, but his communication skills were lacking.
"Your organic-synthetic prototypes are just standing there, near the artifact." Tanra gestured. "They appear docile when near the artifact's EM pulses. Comparatively ..." The salarian changed the screen to a different group of colonists. "These ones are active, with no pulses."
"You're saying these pulses cause them to stop moving?" Saren eyed the screen at the transformed colonists shuffling around the edges of their holding cell. The room couldn't be opened from the inside, but it looked like they were trying to find a way out.
"Correlation does not equal causation." The salarian held up his hands in a warding gesture. "Without more data, I can't say. I need to do more tests."
Saren stepped away from the salarian. "Very well, Doctor."
Truthfully, he'd already expected this bit of news. The exposed turians on Palaven all those years ago acted similarly. They seemed mindless and slavishly devoted to their artifact. There seemed to be no real difference between species.
He turned to the asari. "I appreciate your clarifications, Miss Thanoptis." She blushed a light lavender and Saren smiled. She will be easy to manipulate when the time comes. "I believe you will be a valuable member of our team."
He nodded to her, then headed to the door. He stepped out into the sunshine.
The asari was young for her species, barely out of her maiden years. She seemed to have a bit of an infatuation with him. Probably some misguided sentimental fantasy of rescue.
Saren smirked, headed toward the security room to check on the status of his Omega contact. It will be easy enough to find out.
It wasn't the first time he'd attracted an asari. They liked to pretend they were above other species; wise, powerful and immune to petty manipulation. Saren knew better. Asari were just as easy to fool as any other species if you knew their weaknesses, maybe even more so. Their arrogance convinced them that they were unable to be taken in by a mere turian.
Power and wealth were two qualities that made him desirable to the blue species. While not one of his preferred methods, he wasn't above using sex appeal to get what he wanted. The young ones were especially susceptible to charm and flattery.
Not that he found the asari attractive. Unlike the apparent majority of the galaxy, he'd never seen the appeal of having a blue wench poke around in his brain. Their curves and fleshy bodies repelled him, as did their whorish attitude. Women of any species tended to be weak and manipulative, but the asari were the worst of a bad lot.
Even so, they had their uses. Saren was an efficient manager of resources. The mission was too important to fail because of personal distaste. He would do what he needed to keep everything running smoothly.
A.N.: Short chapter this time around. The next one will also be fairly short. Also, the chapter title was supposed to be a placeholder but it made me laugh, so I went with it.
My goal with writing Saren is to make him a plausibly awful villain-protagonist. He's such a jerk, but he's a complex jerk. One place I think ME1 really fell down on was that they built Saren up as this racist, ruthless, pragmatic bastard and then never really delivered on that. By the end of this series, I want people to see Saren as one seriously twisted mofo, but also a tragic one. If you don't hate him sometimes, I've failed as a writer.
That said, racism is an insidious thing. Most racists don't content themselves with hating only one out-group. If Saren is racist against humans, he should also be at least somewhat racist to every other race too. And given that the asari are basically an all female race, I'd also think Saren would also have to be at least somewhat misogynistic too. But really, I'm pretty sure Saren just hates everyone to a greater or lesser degree. I intend to delve into that mindset and maybe (to a degree) how he got there. It's gonna be icky.
