TFHS 1,5: Reaping the Storm

by Octo8

Sequel to The First Human Spectre, set between ME 1 (TFHS) and ME 2 (TFW). Shepard is dead. His squad mates and others have to deal with that - and with the political fallout he has created in the Alliance. Multi-PoV, mostly only loose connection between the single segments. Reading TFHS first is advised, but there is a summary of it inside.

5. Ch3: Wrex, Goyle

According to this fic's internal logic and chronology, this should be the Liara chapter. However, as it so happens, Liara's story is simply going to Omega to get Shepard's body. It's literally just the Redemption comic with basically no changes. So, if you want her story, read that comic. Or the summary on the wiki. Anyway, there's hence no Liara chapter here.

000000

Dark, deep drum rhythms echoed through the ruins of the grand hall, but they were drowned by bellowing and shouting of a hundred warriors, whose massive figures were illuminated by the flickering fires that were lit at all corners. Often, two of them would begin to argue and fight. Those fights had always many howling onlookers. Some of them ended with both opponents laughing, others with one remaining bloodied in the dirt. However, the famed krogan regeneration always took care of those problems.

Urdnot Wrex, the new rising star among Tuchanka's warlords and now the undisputed leader of his clan, sat on a throne of crumbling stone above the masses of his rowdy but loyal followers. Below him, his newest victory was celebrated in the traditional krogan style. The ryncol was flowing freely, weapons were brandished, tall tales were told, and defeated enemies were humiliated. A bit farer away from the thrones, screams emerged from a deep, oval pit. Many of Wrex' warriors were standing around it, cheering and laughing and betting. The last of the enemy forces were dying there. Few krogan warriors let themselves be captured alive on Tuchanka, because usually what the enemy did to them would be worse than death.

Wrex of course was no sadist. In fact, some of his followers thought him too tame, maybe even too soft. If they voiced their opinion, their skulls would soon get crushed. However, it was true that he did not torture his captured enemies for the amusement of his troops. Rather, he let them fight with ridiculously inferior weapons in gladiator fights against heavily armed volunteers from among his own warriors. It happened only rarely that a prisoner won and got to live, but it happened. And the fights were an amusing diversion to his troops just as public torture would have been.

And thus the last of Urdnot Wreav's troops died in gladiator fights. Wrex allowed them to at least die like krogan. After all, it had been his brother's men. Had the roles been reversed Wreav surely would have chosen more sadistic means to amuse his men, but Wrex had utterly crushed him, leaving no doubt or uncertainty. Wreav himself had fled, but that only meant he was seen by most as a coward now. Clan Urdnot was now without question ruled by Wrex. It had always been one of the largest clans on Tuchanka, in terms of pure numbers maybe even the largest. However, this was the first time in centuries it actually was united behind a single warlord.

It's a start. Wrex had larger ambitions, of course. Larger ambitions than probably any of the millions of warlords before him since the end of the Krogan Rebellions. A warlord vowing to conquer all of Tuchanka, that was hardly something new. So far, all had failed. And yet, Wrex wanted to go even further. It was not enough to merely conquer Tuchanka. That was just the stepping stone for his ambitions, just as uniting Clan Urdnot was the first stepping stone to conquering Tuchanka. What he really wanted was to reform his people. Pacify them, order them. They would always be krogan of course. They would always be violent. But maybe he could channel this, make them a bit less suicidally violent.

Or maybe not. But the price for achieving that, the glorious price most krogan did not even dare to hope for, justified aiming even for the impossible.

Another krogan approached Wrex' thrones. His two guards, stationed there more for his glorification than true protection, immediately raised their guns, but Wrex dismissively waved his hand and they relaxed. He knew that krogan. He did not like him, but he knew him.

"Great Warlord, there's news you might want to hear," Urdnot Krah said. His entire demeanour was submissive, something that raised Wrex' ire and disgust. Wreav might have liked to surround himself by lickspittles, but to Wrex that made Krah less than a true krogan. Still, he tolerated him for a reason. Krah was no full warrior, but instead an engineer. Vicious in his own ways, but rarely attacking from the front or relying only on his strength. Traits that Wrex disliked, but he also realized his empire in the making would have need of people like him

"Hm?" Wrex inquired gruffly.

"I recorded it here on this holodisk," Krah explained. He pushed a button and the replay began:

"..it is still unclear what exactly the Normandy was doing in the Omega Nebula, and what it discovered there. While most crew members survived its destruction, it appears Jonathan Shepard, Council Spectre, is among the casualties. This will no doubt add to the already unstable political situation in..." [1]

Shepard! Abruptly, Wrex rose from his throne. Immediately, silence fell onto the rowdy and violent celebrations below him. He took a look at his warriors, and then turned around and left. He was too overwhelmed with thoughts of what these news would mean.

Shepard had been a great warrior, one of the greatest at whose side Wrex had fought, and great warriors died. He had in fact died in battle, as was befitting to him. There was nothing about this Wrex should mourn and while he was a bit sad that he would not get the chance to fight again at his side, that was not what has shocked him. Great warriors died in battle, that was the way of the world. However, Wrex wondered what might have died with Shepard. As he walked through the dark corridor of collapsed buildings, he wondered if his whole campaign still made sense.

000000

Without a doubt the Citadel was the political and economical, social and cultural centre of the galaxy. The fashions and music of the Wards were reproduced the entire galaxy over, and the trade volume of the space stations was gigantic. And beyond that all, it of course housed the Citadel Council, the supreme galactic political instance. Most people would hence assume the Council Chamber to be the heart of power of the station and beyond that of the entire galaxy. However, that was not completely true. For the most part, the Council Chamber was in fact merely for public and semi-public events, for proclamations, audiences and the like. Its entire architecture was focused on letting the Council appear high and powerful.

There was some use to this self-representation, but it made closed consultations a bit complicated. Hence, when they discussed matters among themselves, the Councillors usually met in a nearby conference room. Anita Goyle disliked the fancy, overblown decorations of it, but at least it was a closed room with a proper conference table that could be used for all those private consultations that kept the galaxy running. This was where all the important decisions were actually made before they were proclaimed. Currently the human Councillor was sitting at that table, and to her great annoyance so was Sparatus, the turian Councillor. One of only forty-two survivors of the Destiny Ascension, he was the only member of the old Council still serving and his face showed the marks of that battle: Scars crossed it everywhere and half of his left mandible was missing, as was a finger on his left hand. Those would be regrown within some months, no doubt, but for now the Councillor looked rather scary.

Which was rather apt, or so Goyle thought. His behaviour in the Council had been rather scary so far as well. He had not forgiven humanity or the Alliance for, as he put it, leaving him to die and he was just as aggressive to his new salarian and asari colleagues. And right now was no different. "So this meeting will be about you asking for even more for humanity?" he asked aggressively. "Is your greed ever satisfied?"

"This meeting will indeed be about the further integration of humanity into the Council and its structures," Goyle answered calmly and coolly.

"What great surprise," Sparatus mocked. "But I wonder if your dear Alliance is even in the position to ask for such things."

"You always wonder that," Goyle replied bluntly.

"I don't mean morally, I meant purely practically," Sparatus explained. "Let us have a look what is happening inside the Alliance, shall we?"

He fiddled with his omni-tool and activated the holo projector in the middle of the conference table. A newsfeed from the extranet appeared:

"Reports from Chicago are still unclear and contradictory. The city centre experienced a night of violence when a biotic rights march escalated into street fights with the police and counter-protesters. It is still unclear how many people were injured or how many are held in custody. The United North American States are one of the most divided countries on Earth on the matters that recently fallen Spectre Shepard has brought up, and the Chicago violence will no doubt further heat up public discussion. It is expected that President Huerta will..."

Sparatus pushed a button, and another news station appeared.

"...Observers fear that the ongoing conflict between the European Union and the Arab League might turn into a customs and tariffs war if one side should decide to employ more than just words. The European Union, which shares a land border to the League at Kurdistan and the Levant and a sea border through the Mediterranean Sea, continues to criticize the Arab denouncement of Shepard's activities and the suppression of biotic rights protests, which has already provoked some quite angry responses from Cairo. This issue is seen as symptomatic for the rising tension between some of Earth's nation states standing on opposite sides of that issue, which is unlikely to go away in the near future. Therefore..."

"The Scott Declaration remains a hot topic in Alliance Parliament. The common declaration of the colonial governments of Terra Nova, Eden Prime and Elysium is seen by many, especially on the right-wing benches, as an act of disloyalty or even an ultimatum against the Alliance. The three colonies, which all revere the memory of Spectre Shepard highly, have made it clear in no uncertain terms that the Alliance should finally start measures to begin investigating the BAaT matter and bring its perpetrators to justice. While so far they have not specified a course of action to take should this not occur, it is widely assumed that..."

"Several right wing groups have taken the Ministry for Colonial Affairs' recent announcement to denounce Shepard, leading most of the named factors for the current poor record on colonial expansion back to him. According to the Ministry, colonization efforts have dropped off sharply over the last quarter, and the outlook for next year sees 2184 as the year with the lowest colonization rate in all fields since the end of the First Contact War. Due to ExoGeni's cessation of all colonial activities and its impeding collapse, most plans for new colony foundations have been shelved, while the Eden Prime War has scared off new potential colonists to move even into already established colonies. According to one commentator inside the ministry, it is well possible that the Alliance will not see any astrogaphical territorial growth in the next five years." [2]

Sparatus turned off the holo-projector and smirked at Goyle. At least she assumed it was a smirk. It was sometimes difficult to tell with turians. Their bony faces did not allow for as much mimics as humans had. "Shepard made you Council Chairwoman, but it seems he also damaged his own species."

Goyle had no problems with him attacking her or the Alliance. Even if there had been no personal feelings involved it would be, in a way, his job as a diplomat from time to time. However, she considered it very low to attack the memory of the man who had saved the Citadel. Besides, she supported the efforts the Spectre had initiated with all her heart. She had a lot of stuff to make up for again, lots of amends to do. [3] "Shepard always made a difference between humanity and the Alliance. Of course a turian wouldn't understand," she shot back.

"What I understand is that your Alliance might have trouble to sustain its great power fantasies with all that internal trouble going on," Sparatus said aggressively.

"So far the trouble at home is entirely separate from our standing here or the performance of our Navy," Goyle answered, this time more calmly again, "Should this change you can gloat all you want. For the moment being, though, it does not affect the facts on the ground." She slammed her hands on the table and stood up. Hey eyes fixated Sparatus. "For the moment being, you cannot deny Alliance influence, and hence we will integrate ourselves into the Council."

"I wonder if we should not have let the Citadel fell to the geth," Sparatus said with disdain, "they might have been the more benevolent masters."

"You don't really mean that," Goyle answered. "Be glad it's us. And be glad it's me and not Udina. You know how he would have been. With him it would have been Alliance interests all the way."

"That's true," Sparatus conceded. "As it is, you play us against the Alliance, and the Alliance against us. Do you think you will get away with that for long?"

"No," Goyle admitted and sat down again "But I'm an old woman. I already was in retirement, and I can return to it if need be. I don't have a career to save." But I will make up my mistakes, my lack of empathy, as good as I can. Even if it hardly compares to what I've caused.

"Don't posture. I know you're not that old by the standards of your species, human," Sparatus said. And he was right, after all the retirement she had left again had been a rather early and purely politically motivated one. "In any case, this means at least I can find some solace in the inevitability of your eventual fall."

Goyle stifled a sigh. Not for the first time she wished Orinia could have stayed. She had been the provisional turian Councillor until Sparatus had recovered from his injuries, and she had been a very fair and pragmatically minded woman. A bit stiff at times, but that was to be expected from a turian military veteran. Cooperation with her had been possible. Unfortunately, some days ago Sparatus had been released from hospital, six weeks after the Battle of the Citadel, and had taken his Council seat back. In this short time had already managed to become an insufferable pain to Goyle.

"My future is hardly your concern," she answered, "I will... but, ah, our colleagues are arriving."

Indeed the other Councillors arrived, both as new at their job as Goyle. In her estimation, neither was much of an improvement over their predecessors. Thaerys Laesar, the new asari Councillor, had nothing of the mediating diplomatic tact Tevros had possessed. While she had the same social graces and political cunning, she used it aggressively, always trying to gain little concessions here and there. It had already become clear that the new mediating spirit of the Council would be the salarian Councillor: Mencham Oris, a dalatrass. That was unusual. Dalatrasses were the powerbrokers of the chaotic salarian politics. Usually the constant competition and conflict in the Salarian Union forced them to stay home and coordinate matters. Goyle was not sure if Mencham's post was a an exile, or a bold power grab. Salarian politics could be confusing to outsiders. [4]

"Our greetings, Chairwoman Goyle, Councillor Sparatus," Mencham began as she and Thaerys got seated.

"We should better start right away," Thaerys continued. "This stuff will no doubt provoke much discussion again, and we need to have it worked out at the next official session."

Can't be that hoi polloi see the discussions between us, Goyle thought cynically. "Most of the issues on the table are very obvious and standard issues," Goyle disagreed, even though she knew that there would be discussion indeed. "Humanity has a Council seat now and that means it needs to be better integrated into Citadel administration and structures. All Council departments, C-Sec, etc. are still staffed nearly exclusively with members of your three races. In the interests of smooth cooperation on the Council this needs to be reformed."

"A further demand from the Alliance," Thaerys summarized Goyle's position bluntly, "More humans in important positions."

"Her arguments make sense, though," Mencham said. "The Citadel administration should indeed be composed of the races that make up the Council." Thank the gods for the always good salarian-human relations.

"C-Sec has always been turian in majority, though," Sparatus argued. "And this has always worked well. I don't think we should meddle in this."

Thaerys just smirked, but Mencham proposed: "C-Sec is indeed a unique matter. Maybe we can leave this up for the end? Let us first discuss the Citadel ministries and agencies."

And thus the negotiations began. In truth it was not very different to haggling on a bazaar. The negotiations proved to be difficult, but not impossible. Convinced by Mencham, the other Councillors realized that humanity needed to have more people in the Citadel government. It was just a logical conclusion from their newly gained Council seat. All in all, Goyle thought that she did not too badly. In fact, she achieved more than she had hoped for. Soon, all those ministries and agencies would have a sizeable human contingent. With some luck, this success will keep the Alliance off my back for a while.

However part of this success was that the most difficult part was still to come: C-Sec. The turians had a good claim for it to be a de facto turian domain. Mencham's argument simply did no apply there. Goyle knew as much. She knew it was a battle she could not win. So instead, she would try to use this fact to her own ends.

Sparatus for his part of course was unwilling to agree to any compromise: "I don't care what you say. We already do allow human applicants to C-Sec. Soon enough they will be at equal numbers with asari and salarians. But C-Sec has always been turian majority since our inclusion in the Council, and it has always worked. There is no need to change that. This is just a further blatant human power-grab."

"I'm sure Chairwoman Goyle means well," Mencham disagreed. "Her arguments are sound. Unfortunately, so is yours, which is what is getting us into this impasse."

"I don't think this needs much discussion, actually," Thaerys cut in. "Councillor Sparatus is right that a turian-majority C-Sec so far has always worked. More humans need to be included to reflect the new human Council seat, but as C-Sec already is taking human applicants this should be merely a matter of time. I think we should just monitor the situation and only intervene if trouble occurs."

"I'm afraid this is unacceptable," Goyle replied coolly. "My government would see that as a weak attempt at stalling."

"Your government?" Mencham was quick to pick up the distinction. "Not you?"

"I as well to a degree, but I can... appreciate Councillor Sparatus' argument," Goyle answered. "However, only 'monitoring the situation' alone just will not do, because that does amount to doing nothing."

Sparatus scoffed, but Thaerys asked: "So what do you propose, Chairwoman?"

"If that monitoring is done according to some strict guidelines, I may be willing to accept that - in return for a concession on another matter," Goyle explained.

"Go ahead," Mencham told her.

She had the Council where she had wanted it to be. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to work out the details first," Goyle disagreed. She had a very clear concession in mind, but she had to bring everything in order first, so for the moment being it would have to wait. "I move we end this meeting for now. We did some pretty constructive work."

Thaerys just nodded sharply, Mencham agreed: "Yes, let us work on that at a later day" and Sparatus mocked: "Not like we'll still get anything done today."

They all left the room, and Goyle began to walk toward her office. It was too nearby to take the public transportation system, but for a woman of her age everything seemed a bit farther out of reach, a bit slower to get to than in younger years. The walk would take some minutes, during which she was alone with her thoughts. She knew the general political situation very well, and it troubled her. Some of it was good in that it forced the Alliance to finally face its crimes, but most of it was troubling.

Councillor Sparatus had not known half of what was going on in the Alliance. Or maybe he actually did; turian intelligence was not as good as what the salarians or asari had, but still was not shabby. The truth was that things looked even bleaker than what the news had shown. Much of it went on beyond closed doors, and most of that had the potential to explode into everybody's face. In North America, President Huerta's government was paralysed by his ongoing illness, so unrest in the cities was likely to spread. Damn their President-centric system. Europe and Arabia were actually already preparing for the eventuality of a trade war. And the corporations were in full on paranoia mode, fearful that ExoGeni's fate could happen to them, too.

Yet worst of all were the colonies, both the small ones and the big ones. The Alliance government was searching frantically for a way out of the ExoGeni trial. Goyle had her eyes on that. She would not allow the issue to be quietly forgotten. Never again. At least the government was apparently only willing to use formal and legal means, but still if they did try anything, things could get very, very ugly. And as for the large colonies, ironically enough the right wing warmongers actually had it right: Terra Nova, Eden Prime and Elysium were threatening the Alliance. It was not in the Scott Declaration; that was just posturing. But behind closed doors the three colonial governments had already issued ultimatums.

The situation on those colonies was complex. It were of course the colonists who felt the drawback of the Alliance's too fast expansion, one of Shepard's points of criticism, most closely and besides all cases of deliberate eezo contamination had happened in the colonies. Most people on the colonies at least knew somebody who knew a biotic. On the other hand, the people who went out to the stars, to the Alliance colonies, were obviously for the most parts the staunchest Alliance enthusiasts. Thus most colonies were even more bitterly divided than the UNAS. However, on the three 'Shepard colonies' it was his memory, the memory of the man who had saved them all, which turned the balance: All three were clearly united and even devoted to his causes. And they would throw their entire political weight into the scales.

Already the corporations were screaming bloody murder. The three colonies were actively going against them. Especially ExoGeni and Binary Helix seemed to have forfeited all rights on those planets, but also other corporations were treated in a way they could only be described as harassment. Given how many politicians even in the colonies were in the corporations' pockets, this all had a 'knight of the long knives' feeling to those in the know. Apparently those politicians were convinced that populist measures would gain them more votes now than corporate money. However, the corporations of course still had influence with the Alliance government, and they were shouting for them to do something. Sooner or later the government would have to give in to those demands, and that would just escalate the situation even further.

Eden Prime was the Alliance's bread basket. Terra Nova was its mining centre, controlling a measurable percentage of the galactic platinum trade. And Elysium was the social and economical centre of the Skyllian Verge. Maybe Bekenstein, the Alliance's manufacturing and trade centre, was still as important as those three colonies, but certainly no further colony. So three of the what were probably the four most important colonies were actively dissenting and were apparently ready to consider drastic actions. Goyle was happy that somebody kept up pressure on the Alliance, but it did nothing good for social and political stability. So she would have to bluff in Council regarding the Alliance's strength. She would uphold the image of a strong Alliance, an Alliance with no problems... but only to a degree. Never again the same mistake. The same criminal mistake. Neverever, ever again. And if it could help undo her mistakes, she would actively work against the Alliance. She already did in Council now and then, on the 'Shepard issues', and she was quickly making contacts with like-minded human groups.

The troubled thoughts stayed with her as she entered her office. There was two messages on her terminal. She froze; the first was from a contact she had in the Ministry of Colonial Affairs and things had just gotten even worse. The 'Shepard Colonies' had just specified their threats. They threatened to eventually withhold tax payments, should the Alliance not finally get to work on the BAaT matter. Also, Colonial Affairs expected the Shepard Colonies to start expropriating corporate property soon. Damn them! That's too fast! This won't keep up pressure on the Alliance, it will all just go to hell! But then, who would ever listen to her? Apparently, not even the Council she theoretically chaired did. And besides, as Shepard would have said, some victims had waited fifteen years for justice. There was no 'too fast' for them. However, for her as human Councillor things were becoming very iffy and stressful.

At least the second message was good news. It was from Michael Johnson in Paris. The European city was where the offices for her legal and social efforts regarding the ExoGeni and BAaT cases were located, now led by Johnson. And it seemed that now finally, finally he had managed to organize them in an orderly fashion and register them with the authorities. Finally the Jonathan Shepard Foundation for Social Justice was standing. The name was a propaganda move of course, but she doubted Shepard would have disapproved.

Her secretary opened the door, a young, African man with a spotless appearance. "Your visitor had just arrived, Council Chairwoman," he announced.

"Lead her in then, please," Goyle told him.

Insecurely a young, athletic woman entered the room. She obviously felt uncomfortable in these surroundings and probably also uncomfortable in her civilian attire. "Welcome, Williams," Goyle greeted her. "Have a seat, please."

Ashley Williams, one of Shepard's squadmates during their hunt for Saren. Officially she still was part of the Alliance Navy, but proceedings for a dishonourable discharge were already going on. There was nothing Goyle could do about that; it had already been difficult enough to get her out of the Navy's imprisonment.

"Thank you, Council Chairwoman," Williams answered while sitting down. "So... uh, you called me to here? I assume you have something on your mind?"

Ah yes. Military people. Always as subtle as a sledgehammer strike to the head. "We'll come to that," Goyle stated. "How are you doing?"

Williams moved uncomfortably. "I'm getting by." She paused. "But it's difficult. I don't mean to be ungrateful for what you've done for me, and I know you can't solve all problems, but as interesting as the Citadel is I'm getting somewhat sick of it. It's getting boring, and my financial reserves are running dry. Life is expensive here, and it's not like I have an income at the moment."

"Well. Maybe we can do something about that," Goyle said. "I have an offer for you. You couldn't return to the Alliance now even if you wanted to, and in fact you don't want to. I can respect that. Still, your talents are currently going to waste. We can't have that."

"What do you have in mind?" Williams asked. She sounded suspicious.

"Humanity currently has a Council seat, but no Spectre," Goyle hinted.

"What?" Williams asked shocked. "You cannot seriously mean... I of all people... what I mean, Council Chairwoman, is that I don't exactly have the best track record in working with aliens. And now you want me to serve the Council? Truth be told I never exactly liked them."

"Don't worry, I know," Goyle answered. "I wouldn't have made this offer to you had I not read your service record and several evaluations of you before. However, it's more complicated than that. Let me try to explain." She paused and tried to find the right words. "You wouldn't be the Council's Spectre. You wouldn't be the Alliance's quota Spectre, either, though I'll try to sell it to them as such. You would be my Spectre. The Council will realize that there has to be a new human Spectre now, and as your split with the Alliance is known you're more palatable to them than most others. They'll agree to leave you alone, to have you report only to me. The Alliance on the other hand has the choice between accepting that or not getting a human Spectre at all." She laid back and grinned. "It pays to be appointed by Shepard. The Alliance can't remove me without losing much legitimacy for its creation, this new Council."

"You seem very sure I would want to be your Spectre," Williams remarked. "Or that the other Councillors will agree to leave me alone."

Goyle shrugged. "It would allow you to finally get off this station. And I can pay you from the black funds the Alliance gives me. Using it to support the single human Spectre is surely something I'll be able to justify. As for the other Councillors, they still owe me a concession. Besides, why would they risk running you back into the Alliance's arms? Which could happen if they push too hard and they know it. No, they'll do me this favour. It's after all no big issue to them." She paused. "But there's more to it. I'm sure you'll agree because I'm sure you'll agree with what I want to do."

"Which is?" Williams asked. She seemed somewhat aggressive, but Goyle realized that it was mostly due to her confusion about this unusual proposal.

"I don't know how much you keep up with news, but surely you know how unstable the situation in the Alliance is turning," Goyle answered. "I need somebody to watch it. Somebody who is not loyal to the Alliance or the Council, but to me. Or rather, to Shepard's ideals. And that person will need to have special legal powers."

"Sounds like a job where I might wake up... how did Shepard put it on Virmire? Wake up with my throat slit from ear to ear," Williams complained.

"Oh, no doubt. I'd be sending you into the thick of danger," Goyle admitted. "But who else if not you? You have survived geth, husks and worse. Can the potential threat of assassins really still faze you? And who could be more loyal to Shepard's memory?"

"Well, what human at least," Williams muttered. "Okay, I see your point."

"Oh don't worry, I'm keeping an eye on everybody who was close to Shepard," Goyle stated mysteriously. "In any case there's also more to this. I also promised Shepard to make inquiries regarding his... your Reaper theory. I'll need an agent with special powers for that as well. But first of all, I need somebody to take a look at the crisis flash points in the Alliance."

"Okay," Williams answered slowly. "That makes sense. But... aren't the Reapers the bigger threat? Shouldn't that be the primary concern?"

"If they are a threat," Goyle answered. "That is exactly what I want to find out. Yes, the theory needs to be tested, but not while the Alliance might soon be burning."

"It's no theory!" Williams exclaimed. "I mean, sorry, ma'am, but you weren't there. You haven't seen what we did."

"No," Goyle allowed, "I haven't. But at least grant me that I'm more open to your experiences than Udina would have been. So far, though, I'll have to treat it as a theory. You have to admit that it could also just have been a psychological warfare trick by Saren."

"With all due respect, ma'am - hah, now I sound like Kaidan did," Williams said and shook her head in a flash of nostalgic sadness. "Damnit. But this is, it's..." She stopped herself.

"I think the word you just avoided was 'bullshit'," Goyle said calmly and not unfriendly. "And of course it looks like that from your point of view. As you've said, you were with Shepard, after all. And Shepard, I freely say so, was a great man. He saved the Citadel from the geth, and basically on the side also saved two human colonies and publicised just what is wrong with the Alliance, which hopefully will lead to long, long overdue justice and reforms. But you know he also was a somewhat unstable man. He believed some things rather too easily. I mean, he began crusading for the BAaT victims basically on the say so of a single lieutenant. He was right in that case, and it might finally bring some justice to the survivors, but this does not mean the same holds true for the Reaper theory."

"As it so happens, he was right on both counts!" Williams agreed aggressively. An awkward pause ensued. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap. Still, the Reapers are real. Not just a trick by a Saren. You don't kill yourself to uphold a psychological warfare manoeuvre."

"The Council has rejected Shepard's report of Saren dying twice," Goyle explained. "You have to admit, it does sound a bit outlandish. As far as they are concerned, Saren was defeated and killed in the Council gardens."

Williams rolled her eyes. "Of course. Why did I even expect better?" she muttered.

"Now, rest assured we will investigate the Reaper threat," Goyle said. "I promised so to Shepard. However, even assuming the Reapers are real, then this is just an additional reason we need to peace in Alliance space. Should they come, we cannot have everything collapsing around us."

Williams looked up shocked. "Is that a possibility?"

"I don't think they Alliance itself will collapse, if you mean that," Goyle answered. "However, we could be looking at years of social unrest, deep political divisions, even periodic outbursts of violence. Of course, the Alliance is doing everything to stop that. But... I don't think either of us really wants their kind of pacification. You know how it would go. Suppression of facts, hush-ups, and so on. No justice served. Again." This had become an unbearable thought for Goyle. Never again.

"Yeah. And so you need an own agent, as you've said," Williams agreed. "Okay, true. That's a worthy cause. Playing undercover agent and investigator for your foundation at least gives me something to do."

Goyle did not deny Williams would be just that. "And you will also get to check the galaxy for clues for the Reapers," she added. "After we have dealt with the current crisis."

"Still, I'm wondering - am I not somewhat too young and low-ranking to be a Spectre?" Ashley asked.

Goyle chuckled. "Don't make me feel old. In any case, you're not younger than Saren was when he was appointed Spectre, and people still think he was a great Spectre before his betrayal." She made a grimace. "He wasn't. I've dealt with him, he has always been a monster. But that's besides the point. In the Spectre business, only your skills count. Your skills are outstanding, and you have the right loyalty."

Williams nodded slowly. "Very well. If you say so. You have your personal Spectre, Council Chairwoman."

000000

Undisciplined, the lot of them. Wrex marched over the desolate battlefield and watched how the last remaining enemy warriors were routed. At the same time, some of his men were already beginning to celebrate. They fired wildly into the air, cheered, and maltreated semi-conscious and injured enemies. It seemed that at the point of victory, his army was disintegrating into a mob. This will have to be better. Centuries of mercenary experience had shown Wrex how real military units fought. Of course he could not shape krogan into something they just were not. He always was aware of that fact. However, surely, they could do better than this.

At least they had won. The newly united Clan Urdnot had won its first victory against an external enemy. Clan Karrosh lay broken and defeated before them. The other, smaller clans of the region would now have no choice but to accept Urdnot supremacy, lest the same fate should befall them. For the turians of the Council Demilitarization Enforcement Mission watching this it would just look like krogan politics as usual. However, Wrex had no intention to be just the next generic warlord.

Already he was making sure that the female clans associated with Clan Karrosh and the smaller clans would come to no harm. That would be a key piece of his strategy. Reproduction had become difficult with the genophage, so most krogan warriors saw women as a valuable resource, maybe even the most valuable on Tuchanka. The formation of female clans helped to protect them, but only to a degree. If he could protect them, including from his own men, though, then this could make them a formidable tool in bringing order to this scorched wasteland of a planet. He just wondered if there still was a purpose to it after... No. I shouldn't think about that.

"A grand victory, Warlord!" a man bellowed at his side. Urdnot Kreg, one of his most trusted lieutenants.

"Yes. It's a beginning," Wrex replied. I'll drag the krogan to glory whether they'll like it or not.

"Soon, everybody will tremble hearing your name," Kreg continued.

"Yes. That will be useful," Wrex answered, "But I have greater ambitions than that."

"Of course," Kreg agreed. "That is what makes you a great warlord: Great ambitions."

"I wonder if it still worth it, though," Wrex muttered. He had not dared to confront this issue in weeks. He had come here to Tuchanka to change the krogan, so that Shepard's genophage cure could be used. After hearing of the Normandy's destruction and Shepard's death, Wrex had simply continued. He hated to admit it, but he had not possessed the courage to ask if the cure had survived. He dreaded the answer.

"You said something, Warlord?" Kreg asked.

Something gripped Wrex' hearts. "I need to find out something. Now." He turned and hurried to his command centre.

Like most things on Tuchanka this 'command centre' sounded more glorious then it actually was. Wrex had fought for lowly pirate scum with better equipment than he had here. However, he supposed it would have to do: Several pieces of electronics carried to near the battlefield, placed upon a heap of rubble. Certainly nothing that would have one win battles against other races, but for the constant wars on Tuchanka it was enough. It probably was even better than what his opponents had. It even had a connection to the galaxy spanning extranet. And it was exactly that console that Wrex was using now. He sent a message and waited. His usually subdued emotions boiled inside him as he waited for the message to be accepted. It took several minutes, but eventually a face appeared on the screen. A face under a mask.

"Wrex. This is a surprise," Tali said. She did not sound like it, though. In fact, she sounded pretty distant and uncaring. "You're lucky the Migrant Fleet is currently near an extranet relay."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Wrex said gruffly. "I know where your Fleet is." He had kept himself constantly updated on that for weeks now. In truth, he had planned to call earlier already, but part of him had always feared what Tali might say.

And the quarian concluded exactly what this was about. Damn her quick mind. "I see. In case, you're worried - I still have it." A feeling of relief took hold of Wrex as he had never experienced it before. The salvation of his people - it still existed. "Jon... he... he gave a copy to me. And only to me. I wear it on my suit all the time. It's safe."

As old mercenary Wrex recognized the security measures. One copy, in case the original was destroyed, to be given to the most trusted person. He would have done it the same way. He should have had more trust in Shepard's resourcefulness. "This is good to know. For a moment I had been in doubt." He would not have admitted so to anybody on the planet. But with his old battle companions from the Normandy, that was something else. "I'm sorry for your loss. Shepard was a great man. A great warrior." He hesitated and added quickly and awkwardly: "And... more to you. I'm sorry."

Tali remained quiet for a long time. Then she spoke quietly and sadly: "Thanks. He would have... he would have watched your progress on Tuchanka. Instead, I do. News about the endless wars on Tuchanka are not exactly easy to come by out here, but it's possible. It's just..." Her voice became firmer. "I will honour his promise. I have to."

"Ah... thank you Tali," Wrex said quietly. Showing gratitude and condolence was still difficult to him, even after centuries. Maybe especially after centuries. "It means I have something worth fighting for here."

"No, thank you for giving me the chance to uphold his memory," Tali answered, more decisive again. "You're not the first to do that, actually," she added after a pause. "My shipmates will wonder where I get all the external calls from."

"What do you mean?" Wrex asked.

"I just got another call, only some hours ago," Tali explained. "From Council Chairwoman Goyle, of all people. Also about Jon's memory... in a way."

That was interesting indeed. Wrex doubted such an important person would have wanted to just chat with Tali. "Hm. Important stuff?"

"Yes," was the only thing Tali said in response.

Wrex understood. He had been a mercenary long enough to understand secrecy, confidentiality and the concept of a need to know base. "Then I wish you good luck."

"I'll need it," Tali just answered. Wrex did not know what was going on, but he liked how decisive Tali sounded. Almost like one of his warriors. And she was in a way, he realized. A warrior for Shepard's memory. Maybe that would give her some peace.

000000

[1] Yes, it's the same news Rentola has seen, so it's at circa the same time, meaning that segment is chronologically four weeks before the next.

[2] The fics' title and 'book cover' image should be clear now ;)

[3] Hm, I just realize I didn't put that in the summary. Oh well. I hope people know what Goyle means.

[4] There is some overlap with the new Councillors as per ME 3 canon, but since I won't fully keep to that I thought it better to make them separate, if very similar characters. If that makes sense...

Also, the word counter here is hilariously out of whack.