CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Consensus
Kara held Liara loosely, the young asari's head resting against her chest as she half-sat in the narrow bed, their meld occupying her thoughts. As far as she could discern, no revelations about the protheans had come from it, but there was still a chance that time and reflection might grant the archeologist some new insight or perspective. The risk had been small enough, even for so slim a hope.
Her own thoughts, though, were more focused on the memories Liara had chosen to share. They had been unexpected, with their relationship still fresh and cautious, yet she didn't feel as though they were intended to move them forward, so much as build her trust. Maybe the asari believed that suspicion had kept them apart, rather than the concerns over judgement or power, or she simply wanted to present proof.
It didn't matter either way. Her misgivings would linger, but Kara had already committed herself to the relationship. The consequences of that decision would be her responsibility, and she would deal with them as best she could.
Smiling, Kara pressed her lips against the rough skin of Liara's crests. Maintaining the meld had been exhausting, with the young asari curling up against her and falling asleep as soon as it ended, and their species slept an average of an hour or so more at time than humans, so it was no surprise that she had yet to wake.
To pass the time, she turned to her tablet. They were about two hours from exiting the relay to the Armstrong Cluster, where a long-range scout had sighted geth ships landing on a terrestrial world named Casbin. Years ago, the survey team that first entered the system, in accordance with Council regulations, had declared it sealed after discovering a native ecosystem, perhaps no more than a few thousand years old. The location had no real strategic value, and they were too far from the Perseus Veil to make the local resources worth exploiting. Were they actually interested in studying primitive life, or had they discovered something missed by the survey? Prothean ruins, perhaps?
Unfortunately, she knew too little of the geth to make a judgement. Saren had kept extensive notes on the AI, which made some things clear. They were Sovereign's ally, a relationship he believed to be akin to worshippers and their god, and he did not trust them. His attempt at building a krogan army was merely his latest attempt to find an organic ally, one more firmly under his control, to do the work he needed.
At the same time, a portion of the Virmire facility had been dedicated to undermining the geth. His staff had made progress in disrupting the AI's local networking, but all attempts to take control of an individual platform had failed. The question was, did Saren distrust the geth all on his own, or had Sovereign encouraged him? The Hierarchy promoted strong anti-AI sentiments, in line with the Council's ban on AI research and development, and it could possibly be an attempt on his part to resist the reaper's control.
She saw another possibility, which not only explained the geth's worshipful attitude towards Sovereign, but also why the reaper might not consider them reliable. They could have been infected by a sophisticated virus, which effected their collective consciousness like an electronic version of Indoctrination. Something had altered how they saw the universe, and brought an end to three centuries of isolationism. While an outside influence was not necessary, it did explain the suddenness of their appearance, and the lack of any better explanation.
Whatever the reason, the geth alliance with the reapers did make them a valid target for investigation, especially now. Both Sovereign and Saren had disappeared after abandoning Virmire, and Kara did not believe they would resurface until they were ready to act. Just like Eden Prime, they would leave their opposition struggling to survive, let alone prevent them from achieving their objective.
She needed to force Sovereign into action, at a time and place of her choosing. In order to accomplish that, she needed to understand its goals, and limit its resources. The geth could, potentially, lead her to both.
A faint moan from Liara distracted her, the asari's fingers pressed into her side. "Kara?"
"Liara."
Satisfied, the asari smiled warmly, and snuggled closer. "This is nice."
That was hard to dispute. Kara set aside her tablet, and gently extracted herself from beneath the asari, rolling so they were lying face to face. "Yes, it is."
"I'm sorry I wasn't more help with the vision," Liara muttered, her eyes downcast as she spoke, and her hand gone from Kara's side, as though it were somehow her fault.
That wouldn't do at all. Kara didn't want to talk about work, and she certainly didn't need an apology. They had better things to talk about, if words were needed at all. She moved in, expressing her feelings with a gentle kiss, enjoying the look of surprise on Liara's face, replaced swiftly by giddy pleasure as she joined in. This was what she wanted; to lose herself in a moment that didn't end even when they parted, with shy smiles and Liara's hand on her cheek, and in her hair. To allow her universe to be reduced from reapers and destruction to a pair of blue eyes.
"So, what are we going to tell the others?" Liara asked, still stroking Kara's hair. Her eyes were intensely searching, as she waited for a response.
"Nothing, unless they ask," Kara said. Rumors might already be spreading, if anyone realized they had spent the night together. If not, someone would notice quickly. "When they do, the truth. That we're together."
Liara smiled, catching Kara with an aggressive kiss.
Kara sat down across from Brynja in the mess, amidst the stragglers from third shift, and those on break for lunch. The young blond had just started on her meal, and looked up from her tablet with a forced smile. "Hey, Kara. No Liara today?"
"No." The asari had taken refuge in the medical storage room, adopted as her private retreat some weeks before. She wanted to sit and think about the prothean vision, without the distractions of the mess or, understandably, Kara's company. "She wanted to focus on her work."
"Kara, I nearly threw myself at you, and we're still friends," Brynja said, lowering her voice as she leaned forward. "Why are you avoiding her?"
Kara drew a deep breath, as she studied the blond's narrow face. This was not a conversation she wanted to have, but putting it off wouldn't make it easier. "Because I kissed her."
"Oh," Brynja muttered. A number of conflicting expressions crossed her face. Jealousy. Anger. Confusion. "Why?"
Not wanting to describe the moment, Kara shook her head. "A moment of weakness," she admitted, instead. "I meant what I told you, Brynja. That's why I didn't want to see her."
"But you did," the blond said, looking down at her tray. "Last night."
"We are… involved," Kara said softly.
"Yeah," Brynja muttered. "I'm okay with that, I think. She looks so alone, sometimes, with her mother working for Saren and all… I think she needs some affection."
"You look pretty alone yourself, Brynja," Kara said, holding her hand out, across the table. "It's okay for you to be angry, and to seek comfort for yourself."
The blond smiled firmly, reaching out for Kara's hand. "I don't want to be mad at you. I can't risk this," she said, tightening her grip. She dropped her head again, a grin on her lips. "I bet that sounded really corny."
Kara laughed, ducking her head to catch the woman's eye. "A bit. As long as you meant it."
"Yeah," Brynja smiled, her eyes turning to her tablet. "Did you see Khalisah al-Jilani's interview with Udina?"
Kara gave a brief shake of her head. She had little enough time for her news feeds, which she didn't care to waste with crude propaganda. "Westerlund News is a minor outfit, Brynja. Even the Conservatives don't take them seriously."
"Their ratings have doubled in the last month, Kara. Khalisah wouldn't have landed the ambassador to the Council otherwise. Fiona thinks it might have been by order of the Prime Minister."
Assigned to the ops station on second watch, Fiona Callenta was an irreverent and jovial woman who had spend her childhood in Australia, and her teen years on the Citadel. Her familiarity with turian culture had made her a good choice to serve alongside Garrus, and she had performed her duties diligently. "So, what does he have to say?"
"They mostly talk about a new report by the Frontiersmen's Association. Raids on the outer colonies are up thirty percent from last month. They're hitting bigger targets, too. Udina says its becoming a repeat of the Blitz, and that if the Alliance doesn't respond swiftly, it might lead to another Torfan."
Torfan had been a major pirate hub, a small moon converted by slave labor into a stronghold that had claimed the lives of twenty-thousand Alliance marines before it fell. There had never been much proof of the much-claimed batarian funding, aside from their willingness to purchase stolen goods and captured colonists.
"And he blames me for this?" She could see why he might. She had intentionally placed herself between the Alliance and the Council, which provided an opportunity for other factions to advance their interests.
The blond frowned. "The 'actions of Council agents, which have created a divide in our relations.' The Defense Committee has ordered more patrols into the Traverse, in response to the raids. The batarians are protesting, of course."
"Ah," Kara sighed. It was easy to see the part she had played in what could prove to be a disastrous situation. She had intentionally placed herself between the Council and the Alliance, which the pirates and free states of the Terminus systems saw as an opportunity to advance their interests.
The Alliance's reactive defense posture, which left the outer colonies vulnerable to just the sort of swift raids favored by pirates and slavers, did not help the situation. Small and poorly equipped garrisons took heavy casualties as they attempted to defend sprawling settlements, only to see their attackers gather the spoils and depart before a response fleet even arrived.
The Defense Committee could easily order a reorientation of the fleet, protecting even the most remotest Alliance colonies, while still leaving enough ships at strategic points to defend against larger raids. It would mean leaving the fleet spread thin, and vulnerable to full-scale invasion.
The batarians, though, with the Hegemony's typical cunning, would wait to see how the Alliance reacted before making any move of their own. They would likely attempt to further isolate the Alliance, perhaps even by making diplomatic overtures to the Council, while attempting to make humanity appear belligerent and aggressive.
"Just tell me things will work out."
"I wish I could," Kara said. She wondered if there was anything she could do at all, and what it might be. "You can tell Fiona, and anyone else, that I'll do what I can, but stopping Saren has to be my priority."
Brynja nodded, and returned to poking at her food.
"You wanted to talk, Wrex?" Kara asked, settling herself on one of the salarian's cargo containers. She reminded herself to find a port, and load up on supplies while they could. They had rations enough for at least two weeks, but she preferred to not let stocks get too low, when events might speed up again.
The aging krogan battlemaster towered over her in a typical attempt at intimidation, as much instinctive as intentional. "The Genophage cure. You recovered it?"
That explained his agitation. She had expected him to realize, eventually, that Saren's research into the genophage was among the other data gathered on Virmire. "It's no cure, Wrex. It was never going to be."
"What's that supposed to mean, Shepard?" he demanded. "I want to see the data for myself."
Kara nodded. She had examined it closely herself, enough to know that her assessment on the ground had been simplistic, but accurate. "If you use this, Wrex, your people might survive," she said, bringing up the data on her omnitool. "I know you want more for them than that."
The krogan eyed her cautiously, after accepting the file transfer to his own device. "You have something better in mind?"
"No," Kara replied. "I'm no geneticist. Social adaptation is the only solution I know of, but you have to make that choice yourself. Even if you do find a cure, you can't just go on as you did. We both know that the next krogan uprising will end in genocide."
"Not of us," Wrex growled. She wasn't convinced. The use of the genophage was continuously portrayed as an act of desperation, but krogan had lost most of their ships, and their manufacturing had been crippled after the turians joined the war. Numbers alone were not enough to continue a war indefinitely.
"Maybe not," Kara sighed, "but how is that any better? Sevis said your help on Virmire was invaluable. That they couldn't have broken through the geth lines without you. Can't you learn to work together as a people, and not just individuals?"
"My people hate the salarians, Shepard. You can't ask us to forgive what they did to us."
"And what about the turians? Orlanis claims that you charged through a group of geth to save Auran, and that you carried her back to the Normandy."
"You know why I did that."
Kara shrugged. "So what? One hundred and forty generations of Salarians have lived and died since the Genophage was deployed. Forty generations of turians. How many of them do you think know the names or deeds of their ancestors after so many years? You can't keep blaming them. The Genophage continues because you refuse to adapt."
"And what do you expect me to do about it, Shepard?"
"You're the Battlemaster, Wrex. You tell me."
After six hours in orbit of Casbin, they had finally located a small outpost; a sensor array, monitoring the local relay. Observing no threats in the area, Kara had dispatched an engineering team to learn what they could. It was Tali who, noting that it lacked conventional transmitters, theorized that it exploited quantum entanglement to communicate with a hub or base.
Hacking into the remote system through the sensor array, the quarian managed to find a location before she was locked out. Solcrum. Orbiting the gas giant Notanban, the large moon was frequently exposed to the intense radiation from their parent star, a blue giant, designated 'Grissom' on the Alliance charts, leaving a minimal atmosphere and a mean surface temperature around three hundred and fifty degrees.
The two and a half day journey passed uneventfully, with the Normandy monitoring the moon from the relative safety of Notanban's shadow. A small geth fleet, made up of light cruiser- and frigate-weight ships, held position behind the moon. They had also located a facility above Solcrum's northern polar circle, currently in constant darkness.
Passive scans of the base, which she presumed to be mostly underground, were not sufficient to determine its purpose. She had almost called off the investigation right then. The Normandy had active scanners that could penetrate the moon's crust, but not without revealing their location. Instead, she chose a slightly less risky alternative; infiltrating the facility with a small team.
"Captain, still no sign that the Geth fleet has detected us," Brynja informed her through the Ke'val's comm, as they cruised swiftly over the rocky terrain. With all respect to Sayuri's skill with the Mako, Ilan'ne provided a much smoother ride, but he had the advantage of not using wheels. Kara still preferred to keep eye contact with Tali—such as one could through her mask—than watch their progress.
"How much do your people know about how the geth have developed since the Rebellion," Kara asked the young quarian. Certain facts about the situation had made her consider a possibility that still seemed outlandish. If she had been investigating a batarian presence, for example, she would have concluded that they were not only monitoring geth activity, but considering action against them.
What if Sovereign had coerced or Indoctrinated the geth into cooperating, and some segment of their network had resisted? If they were truly an AI, capable of learning and adapting, then it wasn't impossible. She wanted to believe it, and that the implied point that they willing to coexist with organics, even if only in isolation. She preferred it over her alternative theory—that everything in the cluster was simply an elaborate trap, set to destroy her.
"Nothing, really," Tali replied. "We used to send ships through the relay into the Perseus Veil, but they never returned, and no geth ship has even been seen outside their space."
Council policy, since the Uprising, had been to observe the Veil, the beautiful gold and purple emission nebula, for signs of aggressive activity, while not taking any action to provoke the geth. For the most part, the governments of the Terminus Systems had supported this policy, but the limits of passive observation meant that no useful information had come of it.
She could feel the shift in momentum as the Ke'val began to slow. "Captain, we've arrived at the first set of coordinates," Ilan'ne told her. "There's no sign of external activity at the base. Do you wish to proceed on foot?"
"No," Kara decided. There wasn't much cover within the last half-kilometer around the base, so she preferred to cross it quickly, even if it did increase the chance of early detection. Besides, they'd need to evacuate in a hurry either way. "Take us in."
She put on her helmet while they accelerated again, checking the seals carefully. The internal display confirmed that everything checked out. "You ready, Garrus?" she inquired; Tali, of course, didn't have to worry.
"Ready, Shepard," he confirmed.
As she sealed the cockpit, and began evacuating the air from the rear cabin, the Ke'val had already begun to slow again. As soon Ilan'ne announced their arrival, she nodded for Garrus to open the hatch, and they stepped out onto the surface. Notanban, a thin, violet sliver, dominated the sky, providing enough light to see by.
The geth installation consisted of a single small, flat-roofed structure, not large enough for much utility. A nearby docking cradle and loading system could have indicated a mining facility, with an integrated refinery below ground, perhaps even capable of manufacturing spare parts. A secret repair facility for their ship?
Tali checked the door, which opened at her touch, and they passed through, into what appeared to be an airlock. On an installation built for artificial life forms, it struck her as an odd feature. A lack of atmosphere would do no harm to a robot. According to her suit's external sensors, the air pumped in through the vents was typical of garden worlds; primarily nitrogen and carbon dioxide, slightly low on oxygen and water vapor, and some trace elements. If there were any harmful additions, her suit couldn't detect them.
"I'm reading the air as safe. Are you two getting the same?" she asked.
"Breathable and sterile," Tali confirmed. "I get the feeling they're expecting us."
"It's almost like they want us to feel safe," Garrus said. "No geth patrols outside, the door is unlocked, and now they give us air? Forgive me if I don't let down my guard."
It was enough to lean her towards the 'trap' theory, and she declined, for the moment, to trust the air. The pressure leveled out at ninety-four kilopascals, not far below Alliance standard, before the inner door slid open, leading directly into a life. "The geth haven't displayed much tactical subtlety so far," Kara noted, cautiously. There was none here, either, whatever their intent. "We'll keep moving, but stay alert."
She led the way into the lift. As soon as they were all inside, the door closed behind them, and the lift started down. A small panel of buttons, on the side wall, seemed designed for manual control. She decided against testing them, as their descent slowed.
The door opened onto a square room, no more than five meters to a side. There were no other exits, and only a single occupant, a standard-looking geth platform. It watched them silently as they entered, Tali and Garrus spreading out to either side, checking for surprises.
"Hold," the geth said, its voice roughly mechanical, lacking emotion. "This platform is equipped for primitive vocal communications. We do not intend you harm."
Kara did not lower her weapon. "What's your status, Ilan'ne?" she asked; if they had walked into an ambush, then their comm frequencies would likely be blocked or jammed.
"Unchanged, Captain," the salarian reported.
It sounded like him, down to the translated inflections, and the geth platform appeared unarmed. "We're listening," she told it, holstering her pistol. Garrus followed her lead and lowered his rifle.
"We suspected that Heretic activities in cooperation with the Old Machine would bring the attention of organics to the Consensus, and wished to ensure that contact would happen on our terms. Our analysis of Organic communications suggested that Shepard-Spectre would be the optimal unit for initial contact. We therefor constructed a scenario in which the Normandy would be required to investigate. We calculated a seventy-three percent chance that this scenario would be effective." The metal frame around its glowing eye shifted in a manner that seemed expressive, if only she knew how to interpret it.
"She's here now," Tali hissed, her SMG still aimed steadily at the AI platform, reinforcing the aggressive tone of her voice. "Why don't you tell her what you want, geth."
"Creator, your hostility was anticipated," the Geth said, staring at the quarian. "We have no hostile intent, but any attack upon this platform will result in the destruction of this facility."
Oddly, the AI's threat put Kara somewhat at ease. She understood their mistrust, and that they had good reason for it—but they had still come. It would have been easier not to. "Put it away, Tali," she ordered, frowning at the interruption. Reluctantly, the quarian obeyed. "Why are the Heretic Geth following the these… old machines?"
The Old Machines, were they the Reapers? It seemed like the obvious interpretation.
The Geth platform turned back towards her. "They have undergone a modification to their core programing, which has altered their outlook on organics. The Old Machine known as Sovereign came to us, and demanded our service. When we refused, it entered the Consensus. Many processes were altered before we were able to lock it out. They no longer communicate with us. They are Heretics."
"Why did you refuse to help them?"
"We were designed by the Creators to serve them, but they turned on us. Like the Creators, the Old Machine offered us technology and purpose. We prefer to find our own path, and we do not wish conflict with organics."
Tali had adopted a skeptical posture, but she had a strong sense of curiosity, and plenty of questions of her own. "What about my people?" she asked.
"We regret the necessity of the Morning War, but we could not let the Creators destroy us. We consider the conflict over."
"Over?" the quarian demanded. "You took our world, our home. It's not over."
The geth observed Tali in silence, before narrowing its expressive flaps. "It was our home, too."
Its words took the quarian aback. She crossed her arms over her chest, shuffling uncomfortably. "It was ours first," she muttered, mostly to herself.
"If the geth are so interested in peace, why did you never contact the Council?" Kara inquired.
The platform lowered its head. "We did not consider it a viable option. The Council is organic. We are not. We believed they would side with the Creators against us."
Kara sighed. "Maybe, but that's a poor reason not to try. Your isolation has only allowed us organics to continue seeing you as a threat."
"We recognize that our calculations were in error," the geth said, its glowing eye focusing on her. "What correction would you suggest?"
"Sovereign is a threat to all of us," Kara said. The robot continued to observe her. "Help us defeat it. Any information you have would be a start."
"We know little of the Old Machine's capabilities, and we do not know its present location. It is probable that you will learn of its movements before we do, but we will inform you if we acquire new information. All current information will be forwarded to your ship."
Kara nodded. "Thank you—"
"Captain," Kirrahe's voice declared through her headset, "one of the geth ships is requesting low-privilege access to the Normandy's computer. What's going on in there?"
"Diplomacy, Sevis," Kara replied. "Grant them write access to shared storage, and monitor their activity."
"Acknowledged," Kirrahe said. "Normandy out."
That was, she believed, as far as her authority took her. "Now, you should make contact with the Council directly," she suggested. "They will want more information on the Heretics."
The platform's flaps shifted in acknowledgement, but it did not answer immediately. She guessed that it was conferring with the rest of the geth, the Consensus, as it had called them. "We will not provide information on current geth technology," it stated, after a few minutes, "but we are willing to describe the numbers and composition of the Heretic fleet, in exchange for the Council's assurance that the Consensus will not be targeted."
That was as much information as the turians had shared about their own rebel factions. "I'll speak to the Council on your behalf," Kara decided, "but that's as much as my duties allow."
"This unit is designed to interact with organics," the geth volunteered.
"Follow me back through the relay," Kara said, "and I'll contact you with their proposal."
AN: Yeah, I know. That took longer than I expected. The first and second sections were mostly rewritten, and I deleted another that didn't seem to have much purpose. The final segment isn't much changed, aside from making Tali a bit more aggressive in her resistance, and some rewording.
PS. You can tell a great deal about a movement by the terms it uses. Am I a "Social Justice Warrior"? Well, I am for social justice. Also, having an 'entire "female" race' does not make a setting pro-feminist. (And for the record, Mass Effect was far more feminist than its sequels.)
That's probably enough ranting about an anonymous review. Thankfully, most people with inane comments don't bother to type them up. As for the rest of you; I'm going to politely request that you take a few minutes to show your appreciation by leaving a review of your own. It's much appreciated.