CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Confluence
As soon as she came off shift in CIC, Kara retreated to the communications room. If the Isandlwana had travelled at maximum speed the entire journey, Kahoku and his crew could enter Alliance space at any time, and she had set the computer to alert her the moment he or his ship came up on any of the major news feeds. She half expected to hear that they ran afoul of a patrol group, and were destroyed before any explanations could be given. As no formal charges had been issued against him, she hoped he would instead be escorted to the admiral of the Fifth Fleet and his commanding officer, Steven Hackett.
Hackett, according to most reports, was a conservative-minded man, sharply observant and an adequate strategist, but no friend of Cerberus. He was responsible, under the direction of the Defense Committee, for the whole of the Alliance fleet. A former enlisted crewman, he had climbed through the ranks after earning a commission during the First Contact War, and still maintained a man-of-the-people image that helped bolster his image within the navy. Carefully worded interviews with the press made him popular with the wider public, as well. She didn't know what he would do, if anything, if Kahoku's evidence crossed his desk.
The second thing on her mind was Ilos. Liara had declared it the source of the visions stored in the beacons, a message sent fifty thousand years ago, perhaps by the last survivors of the prothean civilization, reaching out to see if they were alone. They may also have intended it as a warning for those who came after, but it contained no reference to a 'conduit', or why the reapers needed it to return. It raised the question, of what use to Saren was the message? Had he overestimated the value of its contents, or was the source itself of interest?
Kara might have set course for the planet immediately, leaving Wrex's quest to recover his family armor for another time, had Liara not also informed her that the world was beyond their reach. The sole relay linking to Ilos' cluster, designated Relay 112, had been behind enemy lines during the Rachni War, when the star it orbited went supernova. Without knowing its trajectory, finding even so large an object in an expanding remnant nebula was a near impossibility. There was also a chance that it might have been destroyed.
In either case, the Normandy could not make the journey from the nearest accessible relay to Ilos unaided. To make the attempt would require a support ship, with food, fuel, and extra static sinks. She had no doubt that she could persuade the Council to supply one, which risked Saren learning of her plans. Sovereign's FTL speeds were at least five light years a day in excess of the Normandy's, but it was the possibility that it might have the means to locate the missing relay that interested her. Although she preferred to reach Ilos first, lying in wait and following the reaper was a potential strategy she had to consider.
As for Ilos itself, the reports from the early asari and salarian expeditions were unfortunately limited. The garden world had a high proportion of atmospheric oxygen, which typically corresponded with the loss of all animal life. The ruined cities were small and widely spaced, and showed damage consistent with orbital bombardment, followed by a brief, brutal ground war. They concluded that Ilos' favorable climate had made it a primary food supplier for more populous worlds.
Altogether, only a small portion of the ruins had been explored, before the conflict with the rachni forced the last teams to withdraw. No one had set foot on the world in the intervening two thousand years, well over an asari lifespan. Combined with the valuable archeological and technological discoveries made there, Ilos had gained an almost mythical status among modern prothean experts, Liara included.
Unfortunately, more mundane ruins would have served her needs better; even if they could set course for Ilos immediately, there was too much world left to search for an item she could not even loosely describe. Unless she found a new source of information soon, following Saren and the reaper to the conduit would be her only choice.
"… reports from unnamed sources aboard Admiral Kahoku's frigate, the Isandlwana, that former Alliance officer and Council Spectre Kara Shepard secured the alleged Cerberus facility on Binthu before the Admiral's arrival. Given Spectre Shepard's known anti-human sentiments, any evidence produced from the unauthorized expedition should be regarded as highly suspect.
"While the Ministry of Justice has so far declined to comment on the affair, In-Depth with al-Jilani remains committed to asking the tough questions. Tomorrow, we begin our investigation into the life and career of Commander Shepard in a two-part special. Today, we'll speak with two former Cerberus operatives about the organization, and the mysterious figure who runs it, known only as the Illusive Man."
"Is there a reason you're watching this hack?" Ashley asked, still standing by the door. "Uh, ma'am?"
"Don't do that, Ash," Kara sighed, stopping the vid stream. The main holodisplay closed down, taking Khalisah's round face with it. "I'm not your CO."
"Of course you are, ma'am," the marine shrugged, brushing loose black hair over her shoulder, as she slumped into the nearest chair.
Kara sometimes felt like the marine insisted on saluting just to tease her. She considered that a good thing, an indication that they had developed a friendly relationship. "The waste reprocessors could use a good scrubbing," she stated flatly.
Ashley grinned. "Of course, ma'am." Reprocessors were an in-joke of sorts, a way of making fun of the food, and a new recruit's ignorance, something the marine had obviously corrected. Alliance ships stored solid and liquid waste in collapsable tanks; they did not process it into dehydrated meals for the crew. "So… why are you watching kha-razy al-Jilani?"
"Perspective," Kara said. "If I'm to properly respond, I need to know what is being said."
"Any conclusions?"
"Not yet. Things are moving, but it'll take time. Weeks, to even make a start. It's good news that Kahoku is alive, and with Hackett. The two of them might be able to swing the fleet, a task more easily done without my interference." Kara paused, smiling softly at the marine. "I'd like you to talk to Emily Wong, and tell her about Binthu. Maybe they'll find you more credible than they would me."
Ashley's brows rose in disbelief. "I doubt that."
"Why? You didn't turn your back on the Alliance, Ash. You were forced out, for no fault of your own. This is as much an opportunity for people to meet you, as it is to tell the truth about our missions."
"Okay," Ashley nodded, her expression still doubtful. She would go ahead, at least. "Anything further?"
"Mention Tali's role. Other than that, be honest, about me and the mission. That's the most important thing."
"Honesty isn't something I've had a problem with," Ashley said, smiling introspectively. "And as I'm being honest, Kara, I'm really glad you let me back on board. I found that I really did resent the turians for what happened to my grandfather, but now that I've met a few of them, that doesn't fit as well as it used to. I mean, Auran said that she learned about him in school, and that he was considered a worthy opponent, because he sacrificed himself to save his troops. It was almost the same thing you told me. What the Alliance did to him, and to me and my father, I figured that I understood it, bad as it was. Maybe I was wrong about that, too."
"Look more closely at the context. Ending the war was popular on Earth, but not in Parliament, because the ruling class profits from war, as it always has. Your grandfather made the peace. Not by saving Shanxi, but by proving that we had something in common with the turians. The fools who think we could have won may point to him, and claim our defeats were his fault, but that's just blindness. His treatment, and yours, is just a way of discouraging anyone from making the same choice."
The marine shook her head, frowning. "I never paid much attention to politics, ma'am. The whole damned system is just so polished that I couldn't take it seriously. I just tried to do my duty, and keep the people under my protection safe. I never saw much action, but…" she sighed heavily, as she recalled the ghosts of Eden Prime. "What you're saying is crazy, though. I mean, they kept you on."
That was a fair point. If Aral Williams' actions had gotten his family blacklisted for three generations, hers should certainly have gotten her court-martialed. She could not explain the discrepancy. "Maybe Khalisah will be able to explain that."
Ashley snorted. "She'll just blame 'aliens'."
Kara grinned. "Just this once, she might be right. The Alliance was looking for a spectre candidate."
"Yeah, right. Couldn't they find someone who follows order?"
"Exactly. They must have had a reason to think the Council would accept me." Kara brushed her fingers through her hair. For whatever reason, the question had never bothered her enough for her to investigate, but Khalisah's upcoming report on her could change that. "I'll see if I can find—"
"Captain, Emily Wong is ready to speak with you."
Kara tapped the comm button on her omnitool. "Put her through, Brynja."
After a few moments, the young journalist's pleasant face appeared on the main display. "Kara. And… Ashley Williams?"
"That's right, Emily. Ashley was on the ground with me on Binthu. She'll tell you about the mission."
"Why did you agree to help Wrex?" Kara asked, leaning against her desk as she watched Auran pace the length of her cabin.
"That's personal," the turian said, her resonant voice cool as she paused in her march, focusing her copper eyes on Kara's.
"Maybe you expect more from me," Kara said, lowering her face, "but this isn't about the galaxy. It's just you and Wrex." It seemed like an arbitrary line, even to her. After all, she had confiscated a load of artifacts for Liara, with the weakest of excuses. The Council was unlikely to care, so long as she produced results, and they were just as unlikely to question the demise of a turian pirate and his gang, if it came to that.
Basing her decision around Wrex felt more sound. He certainly had the strength and skill to take out a base full of disorganized pirates. It would be safe, familiar ground. He could also take her expectations as a challenge, and rise to meet them. Her presence would take the choice away from him.
"Shepard…" Auran began, hesitating as she leaned against the far wall. "You want an answer? My father is a pirate, and he was Separatist terrorist, and I haven't spoken with him since I realized just how brutal their tactics were. His death wouldn't mean much to me, but I won't be the one to cause it. When Wrex asked for my help, I thought he was crazy. Then he saved my life on Virmire, and I wondered if I'd dismissed him too quickly. I guess you don't get to be a six hundred year old krogan mercenary without having some brains to go along with all that brute force. Most of them don't make it past two hundred, if the statistics are right. Such a waste of life."
"Isn't that just krogan nature?" Kara inquired. Actually, she knew enough about their society before the Rebellions to dismiss that idea. They had learned from the self-inflicted devastation of Tuchanka, channeling their aggressive impulses into non-lethal competitions. It was their reproductive rate, not an innate need for violence, that had caused the rebellion. Overpopulation to the point of crisis had driven conflict, both internal, and with the Council, empowering the worst element of their species.
"Is that like human nature is to… ah… 'dick wave'?" An accurate enough metaphor for the Alliance's unofficial posture towards the Council, and the behavior of too many of its citizens. "The genophage changed krogan culture. Wrex says it was pure reaction, and he tried to get them to adapt instead, except they weren't ready to listen, and he was forced to leave. He talks sense, and I… I need to know if I can trust him."
Kara straightened, brushing her fingers through her hair. "Whatever his faults, Auran, he does care about his people. He'll try diplomacy, but if it goes badly, remind him that their survival depends on making peace with their enemies."
Auran nodded, her expression still uncertain. "I came here to demand that you either agree to join us, or turn the ship around," she sighed. "I guess that's out. I really hope you know what you're doing."
"Rumors that a geth ship appeared near the free colony of Ilium three days ago, where it joined a patrol fleet of the Republic Defense Force, were finally confirmed earlier today when the same ship jumped into the Serpent Nebula, and was escorted to a diplomatic dock on the Citadel. Council Aide Vael Tel'padhe issued the following statement; 'Recently, one our agents made peaceful contact with the geth, which resulted in an agreement between the Council and the geth that they would send an embassy to the Citadel. They maintain that all attacks by the geth on ships and colonies outside the Perseus veil were conducted by a rogue faction, which has somehow been convinced to serve rouge spectre Saren Arterius. These claims are currently under investigation.'
"Alliance Spokesperson Erin Smith gave a press conference on the matter, declaring, 'the willingness of the Citadel Council to make peace with humanity's enemies is a direct violation of their responsibility to us as an associate member of the Council. The Prime Minister has formally demanded that any negotiations with the geth be broken off until full reparations are made for the attack on Eden Prime, and the so-called 'rogue units' are brought to justice.' Mister Smith also acknowledged that Ambassador Udina had been invited to attend the negotiations.
"Charles Saracino, head of the Terra Firma party, declared the Council's move to be 'the latest example of the failure of the current administration's policy of integration,' adding that, 'humanity must stand on its own merits, and not allow our unique cultures to be contaminated by aliens.' Formerly ridiculed as a fringe organization, the isolationist party has seen rising poll numbers over the last two months."
Kara sighed. The young reporter, working for ANN, repeated the common mistake of accepting that the government pursued an integrationist policy, when its goal was to increase the number of human colonies across the galaxy, while expanding the reach of Alliance-based corporations into pre-existing markets. It was an imperialist policy that would inevitably lead to war, to break down resistance and destroy competition.
She did not think it hyperbolic to say that capitalism required war. Conflict itself was profitable, using expensive weapon systems that were in frequent need of repair or replacement. Add the reconstruction contracts, and the pillage of enemy resources, and it was little wonder that humanity's history was more steeped in blood than that of any species other than the krogan. They were too easily divided by religion, or minor differences of culture or ethnicity, friendly neighbors twisted into brutal killers and rapists by blatant propaganda, all to benefit a profiteering minority. This was Earth history, not the lies taught in Alliance schools, and it would be humanity's future if drastic changes were not made.
To her mind, the only conceivable means of altering that future was revolution. A mere change in leadership would not suffice, nor would minor structural changes in their bourgeois democracy. Whether anarchistic or centrally planned, they needed a cooperative economy, with a goal of meeting needs rather than extracting profit. A stable population and sustainable economy were not possible otherwise.
Unfortunately, there was no organized, radical left within the Alliance. They had been systematically crushed by espionage and police organizations for generations, leaving the far-right, including the proto-fascist Terra Firma, and the pseudo-religious human superiority preached by Cerberus.
What the left needed was a clear, compelling voice for social change. Someone who could convince the squabbling sectarian factions of the communists, socialists and anarchists to set aside their differences and work together to radicalize the population. There were genuine historical reasons for mistrust between the broader groups, and ideological gaps that would need bridging. An effort to spread understanding of alien species would be almost as important, and a necessary part of creating a lasting peace.
She knew that building a genuine movement could take years, but a proper scandal, one that revealed the inner workings of the system, could help push things on. She hoped that someone would take advantage of the opportunity to explain property and class relations. Education and consciousness-building was always the first step, the foundation of successful revolution. Eighty percent of Earth's ten billion inhabitants lived in poverty, only slightly better than amongst the estimated fifty million colonists spread out across Alliance space. They were essentially outsiders in the current system, and potential allies of any revolutionary movement.
"In other news, Parliament voted this morning on a resolution to suspend the authority of the Defense Committee, pending the results of the investigation into its activities, which passed ninety-eight to ninety-three, with five abstentions. Full command of the combined fleets has passed to Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett. 'We have full confidence in Admiral Hackett's strategic skill, and commitment to the protection of the Alliance,' said a statement issued from the office of MP-Terra Nova Safira Karanovitch, who proposed the resolution.
"Admiral Hackett declined to comment on his plans, stating only that the safety of those people under his protection is his top priority."
If he really meant it, Hackett could easily redeploy the fleet to better protect the border, and launch simultaneous raids against a number of pirate bases. He would lose marines, and possibly ships, but it would enhance the security of the Alliance, and might uncover evidence of Cerberus' involvement in their operations. That would finish off the Defense Committee, and embarrass the militarists in the parliament, tempering their foreign policy. It wasn't exactly the revolution she believed necessary, but it could be a start.
The Normandy arrived over Tuntau in early third watch, entering orbit above Tonn Actus' small, concealed base. The planet's atmosphere was unbreathable, but not hazardous, making it an ideal stop for those who wished to avoid detection. Kara sat on the bridge, at one of the auxiliary operations stations, sipping tea to ward against the late hour, and watched on the display as the Ke'val descended with the squad. She knew better than to expect things to go smoothly, but she hoped for quietly, at least. Whatever it took for her to not feel the need to get involved.
She did feel it, though. Auran had recruited Yana for a third teammate, and Ilan'ne to pilot the Ke'val. All four were part of her crew, their wellbeing her responsibility. It could hardly be claimed that she was doing everything in her power to protect them, though.
She could have gone along. Her presence might have intimidated Tonn, and restrained Wrex—and wasn't that why she had chosen to remain behind? The krogan had suspected her of testing him, but he aspired to lead his people, and she could not solve his diplomatic problems. She did not deny the danger, but she still believed she had made the right decision. If only he had other allies he could have taken, she would have felt completely comfortable with her decision.
"Ma'am," Nasrim said, turning to face her. "Incoming transmission for you. Source and ID are scrambled. Should I acknowledge?"
The timing was slightly suspicious, but there were any number of reasons why someone might not communicate with her openly. "Yes," she decided, rising out of her seat. "I'll take in the comm room."
She made her way aft, acknowledging Kirrahe's nod as she passed his post. Anyone who risked censure for talking with her, or wanted to pass on sensitive information, for example. It was even possible that one Saren's followers had decided to betray him—or had received orders to set her up.
The comm room door sealed behind her, as she activated the channel at the main controls. No visual appeared on the display. "Who is this?"
"Spectre Shepard." The voice was blandly mechanical, beyond the normal translated effects. "I represent the Shadow Broker."
She had not expected that. The mysterious information broker normally allowed clients to approach its agents, whether they intended to buy or sell. Either it had acquired critical information on Saren, which she doubted, or it desperate wanted something from her. "I'm not interested in buying information from you," Kara stated flatly.
The voice laughed coldly. "A shame. We have fascinating information on the Prime Minister's sex life that could bring down his coalition. Yours for a discount price." It paused, but she declined to respond. "What if we could lead you to Saren?"
And what compromise would she have to make for that information? The Broker gave nothing away for free, and since she could not afford its usual fees, it would want trade. "Just say what you came to."
"We had an agreement with Admiral Kahoku. In exchange for our aid, he would give us any information recovered from Cerberus. It now appears that you kept significant information from him. We believe we are owed it."
She wondered about the precise wording of the deal, but it hardly mattered. "I don't agree. I made no deal, and I'm not interest in money."
A deep breath, held and released. "There will be consequences for your refusal, Shepard."
Kara sighed. Hadn't she enough enemies already? "I hope that wasn't a—" She cut herself off. The broker agent had already closed the channel from the other end.
"Dammit, Shepard, you knew, didn't you. You always know," Wrex grunted, kicking the bulky crate that contained his family's armor, lost to the turians almost fifteen hundred years before.
"Knew what?" Kara asked. Aside from a brief encounter with Auran, who had seemed in high spirits, she knew nothing of what had happened on the ground, except that the Normandy had needed to land in order to load the crate.
"Forget it. I can deal with my own problems. I'll have to crack a few skulls to salvage my reputation, but fools'll be lining up for it, after this. Bloody turian."
Kara smiled faintly. Certainly she knew there would be opposition, and a fair chance that Tonn had recruited a few krogan minions, but she saw no reason for Wrex to care for the opinion of a few pirates. The mercenary life was at least regarded as an honorable profession on Tuchanka; piracy was not. "You don't change an entire culture without fighting through a great deal of resistance," she said. "It sounds as if you've made a start already."
"A start? I've been made to look like a mewling vol in front of that idiot brood-brother of mine. All of Clan Urdnot will hear of this. If I try to claim rulership now, they'd tear me apart."
"What's a brood-brother?" Kara asked. Some sort of partial relation, like a half-brother, from the status applied to it.
The scarred krogan gave her a skeptical look, as if he could not fathom her not knowing. "Before the genophage, our females claimed a single mate. Once it took effect, though, they argued that multiple partners would increase their chances of a viable pregnancy. True or not, the belief stuck. Me and Wreav, we're from the same brood, but we have different fathers. He's no weakling, just an arrogant fool. I didn't even know he'd left Tuchanka."
"It could be worse. It could've been an old rival of your clan."
"Yeah, Shepard. Funny," Wrex sighed. "At least I could shoot a rival. Ancestor's only know how I'll deal with Wreav."
Kara shrugged. "I'm sure you'll think of something, and I am available if you want advice."
The krogan scowled at her. "I'll find my own way," he muttered. "You'd want us to get together and sing asari folk songs, or some shit."
"Don't forget to hold hands," Kara responded dryly. Honestly, he was right, but the clans had a wide variety of traditions for dealing with personal rivalries. He would have to figure things out himself, which suited her well enough.