Chapter Four
The Citadel
"Is this the beginning, or is this the end?
What has come before will come again."
"Apocalypse" by Bear McCreary
Battlestar Galactica: Blood and Chrome Soundtrack
An ancient, two-kilometer long dreadnought of immense power, shaped like a prehistoric Terran sea scorpion with the four clawed hand of a massive bird of prey at it's head cruised through empty space. Though the organic unknowingly under its thrall, Saren Arterius, called it Sovereign, it's true name was Nazara.
Nazara had been ancient long before the Protheans this cycle revered so highly had ever risen from the muck of their home world - now a burned out cinder which would likely not support life again for several more cycles. It cared little for the titles organics chose to bestow upon its kind, the apex organic race of every cycle - before even Nazara's earliest recollection - seemed to find a name in their own clumsy, inefficient speech patterns to give voice to their doom. Like every harvested species that had come and gone, each name was forgotten, their existence recorded only by the memory engrams of Nazara and its kind.
Nazara was keenly aware that this cycle's harvest should have begun two thousand, one hundred and twenty four point five six years ago - and long since been over - but something had interrupted the harvest. When the Asari and Salarian races had reached the projected apex of both their species, it had sent the signal for the harvest to begin, but inexplicably it had either not been received or had been ignored. An event Nazara's programming had not been designed to account for.
Nazara had been constrained to write a new subroutine to account for such an occurrence and after nearly a century of gathering data, had deduced that the Protheans - who had clearly advanced more quickly than anticipated before their harvest began – must have created an unforeseen anomaly prior to their extinction.
In order to correct that anomaly, it had sought organic agents to access the few Prothean beacons that remained from their purge. There had been many failures until Nazara empirically worked out how to modulate its indoctrination signal to maximize thrall effectiveness, a level of fine-tuning that had never before been required. Saren had been the culmination of those efforts.
Though the end of this cycle had been delayed, allowing other races to appear on the scene before their own appointed time, nothing would stop the harvest. Nazara would continue until his programming had been fulfilled. This cycle, like all others before it would end. Synthetic order would be imposed over organic chaos as many times as required until the creator - their catalyst – had enough data to impose a more permanent solution to the organic problem.
Within the massive dreadnought, unaware its private musings, Saren Arterius brooded upon the attack on Eden Prime. He knew he was getting close to the answer that Sovereign required of him. that the time of his ultimate usefulness was coming to a close. He would be exonerated by history as the one who saved the Council and prevented galactic annihilation by working with the Reapers instead of against them. He was still reeling from the images and voices that had been burned into his brain, his mind unable to process most of it, other than a few garbled images. He was certain that if he could find a way to interpret them, he the beacon would bring him a step closer to finding this "Conduit" that he had found references to on a dozen worlds.
He barely heard the clicking of Benezia's boots as the Asari matriarch under his control approached where he sat.
"We identified the ship that touched down on Eden prime," Benezia reported, "a Human Alliance vessel, under the command of Captain Montgomery. Their ground team disarmed all of the charges and saved the colony."
"And the beacon?" Saren grumbled.
"One of the humans on the ground team may have accessed it," she reported calmly.
Saren rose from his seat, throwing or pushing aside anything within arms reach in his blind rage. Some of which flew close enough to Benezia, she had to sidestep deftly to avoid them, but her submissive posture front of his chair never wavered.
No matter how much the part of her mind she'd walled away pounded at the glass, she didn't offer even token resistance when he grasped her head roughly in his three-fingered hands and pulled her face sharply toward his. She and all who served her belonged to him, body, mind and soul. Even the most powerful and strong willed of her huntress acolytes had one by one surrendered their will to his every violent, manipulative whim. She could feel the ship whispering in the her mind, clawing at the her skull from the inside.
"This human must be eliminated," he growled before releasing her to stalk away on his birdlike legs, secure in the knowledge that she would not have resisted even if he'd decided to snap her slender, blue skinned neck.
Med-Bay
SSV Normandy
Castle's senses slowly began to check in as he rose toward consciousness, his mind still swimming with alien images and equally alien voices speaking in an alien tongue which he could feel was a warning, but he wasn't sure what the warning was for. Only that he couldn't get them out of his head.
"Doctor Parish?" a disembodied voice called out, " Lanie, I think he's waking up!"
"You had us worried there, Mister Castle," a kind sounding female voice, said in his ear. "How are you Feeling?"
"Like the morning after shore leave," Castle groaned as he sat up, his vision still a little cloudy, but getting clearer. "How long was I out?"
"About fifteen hours," Dr. Lanie Parish replied. "Something happened down there with the beacon, from what I hear."
"Some kind of security field must have activated when you approached it," Beckett added sympathetically.
"Where's the beacon now?" Castle asked, unable to remember anything after approaching it. "What happened to it?"
"It exploded," Kate replied, "system overload, maybe. The blast knocked you cold. Esposito and I carried you back to the ship."
"Physically you're fine," Lanie offered, "but the entire time you were unconscious, my scans detected unusual brain activity, abnormally elevated beta waves along with a marked increase in rapid eye movement, signs typically associated with intense dreaming."
"More like a nightmare," Castle whispered, his eyes going glassy, "I saw... I'm not sure what I saw. Death... destruction... nothing's really clear."
"Hmm," Lanie nodded as she picked up her tablet and stylus, "I better add this to my report. It may... Oh, Captain Montgomery!"
"Captain on deck!" Castle shouted when he saw Montgomery and gamely tried to snap to attention, but Lanie pushed him back onto the bio-bed when he faltered.
"As you were, Mister Castle," Montgomery replied, then turned to Dr. Parish. "How's our Chief of the boat holding up Doctor?"
"All his readings look normal," Lanie replied, "Chief Castle will be fit for duty shortly."
"Glad to hear it." He replied then turned to his XO. "Beckett, I need to speak with you... in private."
"Aye Captain," Kate replied, patting Castle on the shoulder, "I'll be in the mess if you need anything."
After Kate saluted the captain and left, Montgomery looked Castle up and down.
"I take issue with the state of your uniform, Master Chief," he growled, tossing Castle a small black box. "see to it you correct this deficiency, before you report for duty as chief of this boat."
"Sir, yes sir!" Castle replied, sitting up ramrod straight, his right hand snapping smartly to his eyebrow.
"As you were, Master Chief," Montgomery growled, returning the salute, "welcome to the Normandy."
"You said you needed to see me in private, Captain?" Kate asked. She'd been waiting at parade rest next to the door to Captain Montgomery's cabin, which doubled as his office aboard ship. He motioned her inside and the door snapped shut.
"I won't lie to you, Kate, things look bad," Montgomery told her, "Nihlus is dead. The beacon was destroyed and the Geth are invading. The Council's gonna want answers."
"The Council can kiss my ass, sir," Kate growled, when he indicated she could speak freely, "I won't let them blame me for losing the beacon. We recovered the damned thing as ordered, it would have blown up no matter who had the detail. Intel dropped the ball, we had no idea what we were walking into down there. I don't like men dying under my command, especially because of shitty intel, sir."
"The Geth haven't been seen outside of the veil for two centuries, Commander," Montgomery replied, "nobody could have predicted their involvement. Under the circumstances, I believe you did everything you could down there. I'll stand behind you and your report, but that's not why I called you in here. It's Saren, that other Turian you mentioned. He's a Spectre too, one of their best. He hates humans, and if he's working with the Geth, it means he's gone rogue."
"Why?" Kate asked.
"I can't say for sure, everything about him and the Spectres is classified at the highest levels of the Citadel. A lot of aliens think the way he does, but most don't do anything more than complain about it. I don't know how, I don't know why, but he has managed to ally himself with the Geth. It must have had something to do with that beacon. Did you see anything? Any clue that might tell us what Saren was after?"
"No, sir." Kate replied, "I didn't even see Saren for myself and the one person who did, I'm not sure could be called a reliable witness."
"We don't know what sort of information was stored on that beacon," Montgomery continued, "Lost Prothean technology? Blueprints for some ancient weapon of mass destruction? Whatever it was, Saren took it. I know his reputation and his politics. If he's truly gone rogue, he's a danger not just to us, but to the whole galaxy!"
"I'll find some way to take him down," Kate replied.
"As a Spectre," Montgomery pointed out, "he can go anywhere, do almost anything, which is why we need to convince the council. I'll contact the ambassador and see if he can get us an audience, if we can prove Saren's gone rogue they'll revoke his Spectre status and we can deal with him. As soon as you've checked up on our newest crew member, report to the bridge. We should be getting close to the Serpent Nebula mass relay, have Ryan to take us through and dock with the Citadel."
"Things were pretty rough down there, Castle," Beckett began when she found him in the mess eating his required nutrient intake for a biotic, "are you sure you're okay to take on your duties?"
"Yes, Commander," Castle replied, his new rank pins shiny on his collar, "Dr. Parrish has declared me fit for duty. Things would have been a lot worse down there if you hadn't shown up."
"We couldn't have done it without you, Castle," Kate assured him.
"Thanks Commander," Castle muttered, "that means a lot coming from you. I'm still in a bit of shock about being assigned to the Normandy, but it's nice when someone makes you feel welcome."
"I need to go speak with Ryan, out pilot," Kate said before turning toward the forward stairwell, "Carry on Chief."
A short time after Kate had taken over the watch, the Normandy passed through the Mass Relay into the Serpent Nebula. As the frigate passed deeper inside, the massive Citadel space station slowly coalesced into view. Its five ward arms spread open in the shape of a flat, five pointed snowflake held together by a massive central ring with a tall spindly tower rising from an island in the very center. For many in the CIC it was their first ever view of the citadel. To read about it in school was one thing... but to see it in person was quite another.
As they passed closer to the station, the ships of the Citadel fleet began to come into view, particularly. the Destiny Ascension, a massive vessel built by the mysterious Asari race. She was a powerful warship in her own right, her lines as graceful and elegant as she was deadly, like huntresses of the all-female race who designed her.
"Look at the size of that ship!" Castle exclaimed, his eyes glued to the view-port as the massive dreadnought sailed past them.
"The Destiny Ascension," Kate offered, "flagship of the Citadel fleet."
"Size isn't everything," Ryan snarked."
"Why so touchy, Ryan?" Kate replied,
"I'm just saying," Ryan shot back, "you need firepower too."
"Look at that monster!" Castle exclaimed. "It's mass accelerator cannon could rip through the barriers on any ship in the Alliance Navy."
"Citadel control," Ryan stated into the comm, silencing everyone on the bridge, "this is SSV Normandy requesting a docking port and a berth."
"Stand by for clearance, Normandy," the traffic control operator stated crisply, "Clearance granted. You may begin your approach, transferring you to an Alliance operator."
"Roger, Citadel Control," Ryan replied, "Normandy out."
Shortly thereafter as they drew closer to the station, another traffic control operator hailed them.
"Normandy this is Alliance tower, please proceed on course two three niner, to docking bay four two two."
Normandy slipped gracefully into the docking bay, under Ryan's deft hands at the controlds, venting her excess heat and drive plasma before passing through the mag-con field holding the bay's atmosphere inside. She settled into the bay and powered down her engines as the docking clamps and airlock gangway swung down and locked into place. Within minutes, Alliance dock workers quickly moved in to begin the labor extensive process of refilling the ship's HE3 fuel cells and discharging her drive core.
Once the necessary docking maintenance was completed to be signed off by Captain Montgomery and he received notice that she would be assigned additional personnel to round out the crew roster from skeleton crew for the shakedown, to an Alliance Naval Frigate's full compliment and that arrangements had been made for the civilian contractors to be transported back to Earth on the SSV Iwo Jima.
With the ship's business was complete and the necessary decontamination procedures had been been followed, the ship's company was permitted to disembark, many taking advantage afternoon shore passes to tour the citadel, others -namely Chief Engineer Adams - set off to confer with the dockworkers performing the necessary discharge of the Tantalus drive core.
SSV Normandy SR-1 (FFG-1475) was Chief Adams' baby. He took it as a point of pride as Normandy's first Chief Engineer, he was writing the book not only on this one new ship, but on an entirely new class of frigate. He was not about to trust even the most minor of her external systems to some civilian puke he hadn't vetted personally.
While they were in port, he and his deck gang would walk every inch of Normandy's dorsal and ventral hull in mag boots, check the external ports for all six of her disruptor torpedo batteries and every firing lens on every one GUARDIAN laser turrets not to mention every emissions sink and heat exhaust vent. If his staff wanted wanted an afternoon pass to get drunk and gawk at the view, they were damned well gonna earn it.
Besides, from time time it was necessary to show his staff that the old man could still put his money where his mouth was. There would be two emergency heat diffusion drills to test the new system before she left port again. If even one of her critical systems read below one hundred percent, or one of those damn midshipmen so much as scratched Normandy's paint he'd snap them back so hard they'd think they were in basic again.
Normandy may have been designed for stealth reconnaissance, but five of his ancestors had fought in that long ago battle she was named for - three of whom never made it off Omaha beach, and a fourth fell taking Pegasus Bridge, their names carved on white marble crosses in France - and he took it as a matter of honor that this ship would damn well be ready for combat in all respects every single time Captain Montgomery sounded general quarters.
While Chief Engineer Adams and Third Officer Pressley saw to the Normandy's maintenance, and the disposition of her crew, Montgomery, Beckett, Castle and Esposito took a rapid transit shuttle to the Citadel Embassies on the Presidium ring. When they reached the human Embassy, they could almost hear Ambassador Bracken shouting before the door slid open to reveal him arguing with holographic representations of the Citadel Council.
"...this is an outrage! The Council would have stepped in if the Geth had attacked a Turian colony!"
"The Turians," Valern, the Salarian councilor countered dryly, "don't found colonies that share a border with the Terminus Systems, Ambassador."
"Humanity was well aware of the risks," Asari Councilor Tevos added almost patronizingly, "when you went into the Traverse."
"What about Saren?" Bracken asked, making a pretty good show out of being angry. "You can't just ignore a rogue Spectre. I demand action!"
"You don't get to make demands of the Council, Ambassador!" Sparatus spat in reply. It was clear that Bracken wasn't going to budge them, no matter how hard he pushed.
"Citadel Security is investigating your allegations against Saren." Tevos, her tone that of cold finality, "We will discuss C-Sec's findings at your hearing, not before. Good day, Ambassador Bracken."
With that, her holographic hand moved to touch something out of range of the holographic projector and cut the conference call. Clearly Bracken was quite proficient at getting under people's skin, including the normally slow to anger Asari Ambassador.
Bracken swore quietly to himself, before turning around to take note of the four guests in his office, and softened his stance.
"Captain Montgomery," he said with false noblesse oblige and just a hint of irritation, "I see you've brought half your crew along with you."
"Just the ground team from Eden Prime, Ambassador," Montgomery replied, ignoring the obvious attempt to throw him off his guard, "in case you had any questions for them."
"I've read the mission reports, Captain," Bracken replied dismissively. "I assume they were accurate?"
"They are, Ambassador, I'm assuming that you were successful in getting us a hearing?"
"They weren't happy about it," Bracken grumbled, allowing some of his genuine irritation to show, clearly, not being the one with the power in this situation made him uneasy. "Saren is their top agent, they don't like their golden boy being accused of treason."
"If you think I'm just gonna sit on my ass just because the Council wants to bury their heads in the sand about Saren, you have another thing coming, Ambassador." Kate growled, her frustration boiling over at all of the political maneuvering. "If they won't stop Saren, I will."
"Settle down, Commander," Bracken snapped at her, "you've already done enough to jeopardize your candidacy for the Spectres! The mission on Eden Prime was an opportunity for you to prove to the council that a human can get the job done. Instead, Nihlus ended up dead and the Prothean beacon was destroyed on your watch."
"Hold on just a damned minute!" Montgomery snapped back at Bracken, pinning the Ambassador with a glare that would have stopped just about anyone else dead in their tracks. "That was Saren's fault, not hers!"
Bracken didn't wilt under his glare. Montgomery had heard the rumors about Bracken, that he'd served with a psychological warfare unit during the First Contact war - one so black even the table of contents listing the existence of the unit was heavily redacted - which had supposedly disbanded after Armistice Day, but was rumored to have posted an anti-alien manifesto and gone rogue instead. Rumors or not, Bracken had certainly known where enough bodies were buried after the short brutal conflict with the Turian Hierarchy, to grease the wheels on his meteoric rise up the political ladder.
The one person who'd ever tried to get in his way had been Johanna Beckett, a civil rights attorney who'd been nominated to run in New York City District Attorney's race against him nearly a decade ago. She'd been stabbed to death in an alley – the victim of a random act of gang violence mere hours before the press conference in which she would have officially announced her candidacy. Bracken himself had attended the prayer vigil the night of her funeral, paid his respects at the calling hours for her funeral even proposed a bill before the city council in her name later that year to call for a tougher stance on street gangs. The scuttlebutt that he never revealed his true face to anyone certainly seemed true enough.
"Then we'd better hope the C-Sec investigation turns up evidence to support your allegations," Bracken replied, his steely control still in place. "Otherwise, Sparatus might use this to convince the other Councilors to deny your entry into the Spectres."
"Come with me, Captain," Bracken stated as he headed for the door, "I want to discuss a few things with you in private before the hearing. The rest of you can meet us at the Council chambers on the top level of the Citadel Tower. I'll make sure you all have clearance to get in."
And then with a dismissive nod of his head, Bracken and the Captain were gone.
"That," Kate muttered, "is why I hate politicians."
Beckett, Castle and Esposito file out of Ambassador Bracken's office and take another rapid transit shuttle straight to the base of the citadel tower and step into the glass enclosed elevator, where it gradually rises up the massive tower, giving them a spectacular view of the station.
"This is a really big place!" Esposito muttered, having never been to the citadel before.
"That your professional opinion, Espo?" Kate replied.
"This place makes Jump Zero look like a porta-john," Esposito replied, "and that's the biggest station we have! How the hell do they keep all this mass from flying apart? Can't figure why the other races would be so keen to keep us out though, seems like there's enough room here for everybody."
"Neither can I," Castle interjected, his eyes wandering from the view outside to Kate's profile, "We've got oceans, beautiful women, this emotion we call love? According to all of the old vids my daughter likes to watch we have everything they could possibly want."
Kate had clearly caught notice of Castle's none to subtle appraisal, her cheeks turning a light pink. The doors chose that very moment to open, announcing their arrival at the top of the citadel tower.
"Castle," Kate muttered pertly before heading out of the lift, "if you think you're gonna fit me for a tinfoil miniskirt and thigh high boots, I want dinner first."
Castle stopped, slightly gobsmacked at the image Kate had put into his brain, which was a lot more fun than the ones the beacon had, prompting the subject of his daydream to turn back toward him.
"You coming, Castle?"
As they approached the first set of stairs leading up to the Council audience chamber, they saw two Turians arguing in the small circular courtyard leading up to the next set of stairs.
"...Saren's hiding something, "hissed the one in the blue uniform of a C-Sec Lieutenant, "Give me more time, Stall them!"
"Stall the council?" asked the older looking Turian in more formal civilian attire, "Don't be ridiculous! Your investigation is over, Garrus."
The older Turian stalked away toward the staircase leaving the other, frustrated Turian in his wake.
"Commander Beckett?" he asked, flashing ceramic, "Garrus Vakarian, I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren."
Kate looked the Turian up and down, but accepted the three fingered hand proffererd to her and shook it. She'd been a cop once, she could read his frustration in the way he stiffly shook his hand. She'd been there.
"Who were you just talking to?" Kate asked.
"Executor Pallin, Head of Citadel Security, my boss," Garrus replied, "He'll be presenting my findings, - or lack thereof - on Saren to the Council.
"Come across anything I should know about?" Kate asked.
"Saren's a Spectre," Garrus began, "Most of his activities are classified. I couldn't find anything solid. But I know he's up to something. Like you humans say, I feel it in my gut."
Before Kate could question Garrus further, she saw Captain Montgomery waving to her from the same stairs Pallin had climbed only minutes before.
"I think the Council's ready for us, Commander," Espo cut in, declaring the obvious.
"Good luck, Commander," Garrus offered glumly, "maybe they'll listen to you."
When they reached the spot where Montgomery was impatiently waiting for them, he hustled them up the stairs.
"The hearing's started already," he urged. "come on."
**Author's Note** Usually this is where my author's note would go, but with all that's gone on the past couple weeks I have no words.