REQUIEM
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:
DUTY CALLS, I ANSWER
November 14, 2185
0858 hours.
Main Dock, Level 27, Zakera Ward, The Citadel.
Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Assassin Thane Krios, Soldier Urdnot Grunt, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex.
The skycar quickly descended upon the landing platform; the area being as conveniently clear as it always was. Marcus directed it to land dead center on the middle and disabled the car's engines, switching off the console via his omni-tool and opening the doors as he stepped out into the Zakera Ward Dock.
As always, the C-Sec customs manager was arguing with someone for what reason? A turian bringing in a traditional knife. Only C-Sec. The same C-Sec officers stood on guard with their weapons in lower parry, and skycars wizzed by overheard, accompanied by the crowds down below them. The Citadel was so much like his last visit, but it felt like he hadn't been here in years.
A pity he had to be here for reasons that didn't involve a simple shore leave.
Avina, the Citadel's VI tourist guide interface who took the form of a pulsing blue asari hologram, droned on about the Zakera Wards features to a human couple as Marcus, wearing just his N7 hoodie, cap and blue jeans with his paladin pistol underneath, moved towards the Customs Main Corridor, Tali, Thane, Grunt and Wrex following behind him.
They had arrived an hour ago, with Chakwas immediately sending Jack to Huerta Memorial on the kodiak. He had heard an update from her not too long ago that the shuttle had arrived at Huerta Memorial which, big surprise, was now under the management of Doctor Chloe Michel, the same russian doctor who he had saved in her med clinic two years ago from Fist's thugs, and that she was undergoing surgery. Chakwas had stayed behind to oversee it, seeing the convict as 'largely her responsibility.'
Thane, Wrex and Grunt were only accompanying them for final goodbyes. It still saddened him to know that two of his squadmates, who he considered good friends, were leaving, but he understood their reasons, and knew it was for the greater good. Besides, it wasn't truly goodbye. They would see each other again, on the field of battle, and when the Reapers were just wrecks in space and on the ground, they would celebrate. But for now, they had to part ways. It was a fact he had come to terms with, and so had they.
He moved down through the corridor, letting the metal detector run a scan on them one by one before they moved through the door at the end, Thane remarking under his breath that C-Sec had only fixed one of the problems with their security since their last visit, and he had almost chuckled when he met Bailey's gaze, the C-Sec captain nodding as he moved up to his desk, hand outstretched. The officer quickly took the hand, squeezing it tightly as he shook it.
"Shepard, didn't expect to see you again for a long while," Bailey greeted, a smile accompanying his thick british accent, "Thought the Council might have scared you off. I don't blame you; they're like damn leeches, those three. Anderson seems to be the only one getting anything done that doesn't involve corporate buttkissing, but I guess the Council got sick of him, or the Alliance Parliament did, because they replaced him with Donnel Udina of all people! Did you hear about that?"
Marcus pretended to be surprised as he braced himself against the captain's desk, "You're joking. That son of a bitch became human councilor? How did Anderson get kicked out?"
The man tsked, shaking his head slightly as he wiped his forehead, "He didn't get kicked out Shepard; he resigned. Probably got tired of the Council's bullshit, and decide to rein in what he earned and piss off. Rumor has it he's gone back to the Alliance; and they're thinking of promoting him to Vice Admiral, for all the good it'll do; Arcturus Parliament will do anything to keep him quiet, I can guess. But you can bet the position went to Udina; Parliament flocked to him like a couple of birds. Pathetic, to be honest. Never liked Udina. Far too right-wing for my liking. You'd swear he was Cerberus or Terra Firma the way he talks about humanity, but he gets the job done better than Anderson, I'll give him that."
Marcus snorted, "Never liked Udina myself, but he's a politician; they're all good at their jobs. Let the Council be idiots, and life will run as normal."
Bailey almost guffawed as he shuffled the datapads on his desk, "And I'll still be neck-deep political blowjobs and bloody lawyers. That last lawyer, the one for Elias Kelham, was wanting to have me charged for corruption for disrespect of his 'client's' living space, but apparently lifted it when he found out you were a Spectre and had authorized it," Bailey sighed, waving a hand at him, "You Spectres have it easy; blow shit up for no good reason and you get let off with a pat on the back and a golden smiley sticker. When I do the same thing, I get smear campaigns, anti-corruption slogans, and the Executor clips me across the ear for being a bad boy. You spectres have no idea how lucky you are. But I doubt you're here to hear my problems, so I'll let you all be and get back to work."
"Actually, Thane as a question for you," Marcus stated, turning away from the desk and stepping back as Thane assumed the position he had before, hands clasped behind his back in his omniprofessional manner.
"Mr. Krios," Bailey immediately declared, clasping his hands ontop of the desk, eyes making contact with the drell's immediately, "I gather you're here to see your son, Kolyat? He's currently off running a few errands. He's still paying off that Community Corrrection Order I convinced the executor to give him. He was five inches away from signing up for the CREDIT (Court Referral and Evaluation of Drug Intervention Treatment) program, had I not pitched my two cents worth. He should be back in a couple of minutes. Just wait here for him, I'll go radio him on the officer's channel."
Thane nodded, waiting silently as Bailey activated his omni-tool and contacted his officer escorting Kolyat. The drell turned to Marcus, holding out his hand once more and he took it gladly, shaking it, "This is goodbye, for now. I hope we meet again soon, Commander. My life is growing ever too short."
"You should check in at Huerta Memorial every once and a while to keep your symptoms under check," Marcus suggested, pulling his hand away after completing the handshake, "That's what Doctor Chakwas would suggest you do."
Thane smiled, nodding to him, "I will do that. Thank you," he turned to Tali, still smiling, "And goodbye to you too, Tali. I hope you two enjoy what's left of your honeymoon before the storm comes. We all need some happiness in the shadow of horror."
Tali courteously nodded, holding out her own hand. Thane took it, shaking it as well before both parties pulled away, Tali smiling behind her mask, "I will, and take care of yourself Thane. Your son will need you; now more than ever, and there'll people who'll want to hurt you. I hope you remain well and enjoy what time you have left; I know we will."
Thane met her eyes and nodded solemnly, "I will; Arashu and Kalahira watch over your both."
Thane said his goodbyes to Grunt and Wrex before walking over, quickly leaving as he heard Kolyat yell out upon approach. The four of them watched Thane walk towards him until Kolyat wrapped his father in a tight hug, Thane reciprocating, where they both turned away to grant them privacy. With Thane gone, both Tali and Marcus turned to look at Wrex and Grunt.
The spectre let out an audible sigh, following it up with a weak smile as he shot his hand out, something which Wrex ignored and simply wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He managed to choke out a chuckle before the krogan released him, Grunt quickly doing the same thing before letting go of him.
Patting himself down, he met Wrex and Grunt's gazes, shaking his head, "I...I don't know what to say, you two. All I can tell you is what I've said already. I'm going to miss you, but I understand that what you're doing is necessary, and send you my approval. Just...just look after yourselves. No matter how united it is, Tuchanka is still a pretty unwelcoming place," Marcus stated, shrugging.
Wrex just laughed, shaking his head at the N7, "You think we don't understand the dangers of our homeworld? I've weathered it for two years, and I'm pretty sure this welp will fit in just fine," he hit Grunt's shoulder with a clenched fist, the younger krogan merely shooting the chieftain a glare before turning back to Marcus, "Besides, Wreav wouldn't dare try to hurt me, and the krogan respect me; only Gatatog Uvenk and the Weyrloc didn't, and we've taken care of them. We'll be fine Shepard, and I'll be sure to shape Grunt here into a leader."
All he could do was nod, exhaling and inhaling as he stood there, the four of them saying nothing. Finally, Wrex cleared his throat, all attention drawn to him as he rubbed the back of his neck, the krogan actually looking awkward for once.
"Well...we should get going," the krogan declared, thrusting a pointed thumb behind him, "I contacted the Chieftess I installed after leaving the Shadow Broker's base, and she's sent a ship with Wreav onboard to pick us up and take us back. So if we want to catch it, me and Grunt better leave now. Goodbye old friend," he slapped his battle brother on the bicep before solemnly nodding, "We'll meet again, some day. Come on runt."
Wrex turned and walked away, Grunt sparing his commander one last glance. Marcus just looked at him. He remembered when he first met the krogan; he was just another krogan berserker made by Warlord Okeer, stuck in his huge tank on Korlus under the Blue Suns employ, unaware of his surroundings, and the perfection of Okeer's 'legacy.' He remembered opening the tank on the Normandy and how hostile he had been initially. How he had grown to know the baby krogan, laugh with him, and while he wouldn't call them friends, they definitely weren't on bad terms.
Grunt nodded to him awkwardly, and turned his head away, jogging to catch up with Wrex as the two krogan warriors melted into the crowd, disappearing in an instant. He and Tali also watched Thane and Kolyat walk by; the excited young drell talking ecstatically with his father as the assassin himself threw Marcus a final appreciative nod before also disappearing into the throngs of the Citadel.
Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke from behind them, interrupting their reverie and almost causing them to jump.
"Goodbyes huh?" Both of them turned to Bailey, who now sat behind his desk, looking at them, his terminal alight and active.
Tali merely leaned against the bulkhead next to them as Marcus woked over to Bailey's desk and braced against it with his hands, "Yeah. It was hard, but they had their reasons, and I had none to keep them from leaving, not that I would."
"I hate goodbyes. I know how you feel," Bailey sighed, shaking his head as he looked at his desk, "Had plenty of them myself. I used to live on Earth before I joined C-Sec, and that was before my wife divorced me. I'm a single man now, and my son lives with his uncle on Earth; they love in Wales, Britain."
Marcus met Bailey's eyes, sighing, "I'm...sorry to hear that."
"I was to; but I guess me and my wife realized we had just reached the point where marriage was no longer suiting us, and we just needed to go seperate ways," he grunted, slidding a hand over his desk, "C-Sec and Earth life don't mix well, unfortunately. You ever been to Earth?" His eyes met Marcus'.
He shook his head, "Never visited it in my life. I'm a spacer. Closest I got to it was Arcturus Station when my mother was posted there for a couple of days as a pencil pusher."
Bailey snorted, shaking his head, "You should visit it when you get your chance; lets you know where we all began; its a beautiful planet, our dear old Earth. I descend from Britain, but my grandparents were American, although the Americas have never been the same since the formation of the UNAS. They always tell me that 'America should go confederate, not federal,' but noone listens to logic, do they? Where are you descended from? I don't believe I ever asked."
He shook his head, "No, you didn't. I descended from Israel."
Bailey creased his lips in impression, "Used to remember how much you poor buggers got criticized by the UN; a pity they're still here; just dressed in Alliance blue. The Systems Alliance is just the UN in color-coated blue, you know that right?"
"Of course I do," he deadpanned replied, "I may be a spacer, but I still went to school. I know our history."
"Yeah. But you seriously need to visit Earth, when you can," Bailey remarked, shoving a finger at a nearby vid-commerical on the wall, "It'll do you good to see your homeworld; all humans should at one point; but I guess I'll leave the rest to tourist managers. Don't listen to me; I've spent far too much time on the Citadel."
Marcus and Tali's eyes immediately drifted to the advert he pointed at, and there it was. There was no commentator, just a slideshow of first a view of Earth from space, followed by numerous attractions like Hawaii, the World Trade Center Memorial in New York City, the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, the Kremlin in Russia, Big Ben in Britain and a whole lot more. But the same words always accompanied the words:
'Want to see the human homeworld first hand? Maybe your bondmate is five-fingered and pink-skinned, and you want to see his or her people originated from. Well fear no more, for we have the perfect solution! Welcome to the Systems Alliance Tourism Department, funded and sponsored by the Colonial Department of Human Education! Experience the human homeworld first hand as you visit famous landmarks and learn their history, up close! This beautiful, blue world has tonnes to hide, and you're missing out! Sign up today, and you could be flying to Earth itself in a matter of days.
Contact Details: 0221-666-184-29223672. No refunds available.
For more details, please report to your nearest Frontier Tourism desk; locations on the Citadel include the Zakera Ward, Romulus Ward and Shalta Ward.'
"Your homeworld looks beautiful," Tali observed, alternating her gaze between the billboard and her husband, "Maybe you could take me to see it one day? I've shown you my home, but you haven't shown me yours."
He smiled at her sadly as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, "Because my true home is long gone, Tali; wouldn't know where to find it. But maybe, when all this is over, and we can finally settle down, maybe I will take you to Earth. Its been a long time coming, I guess."
"You're quite the euphemist," she commented, giggling.
He laughed, this one genuinely happy, "Yeah, I guess I am. Say, while we're here and waiting for an update, why don't we go check out the stores again? I'm sure there's more clothes we can find for us to wear; plus, we've got a honeymoon to finish."
She grinned devillishly at him before nodding, holding her hand out to him, which he eagerly took as she pulled him into the crowd, "Do show me around, Mr. Shepard."
All he could do was shake his head as she dragged him into the crowds.
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November 14, 2185
0910 hours.
Debriefing Room, Zarasis-Class Light Cruiser QMFV Neema, Migrant Fleet, Raheel-Leyya System.
Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh.
The debriefing room on the Neema was a frenzied mess, as it always was during these meetings of the Admiralty. The Neema, being Gerrel's ship, made it that he sat at the very front, with Daro seated on his left, Shala on his right, and Koris seated next to her. Usually, Rael would sit next to Daro, but because he was dead, that obviously wouldn't be happening. All it did was serve to remind the Board that it was sorely missing one admiral. A position they needed filled pretty soon.
Shala sighed once more as she let her hands fall into her lap, the quarian trying to ignore the looks of impatience that came from Koris and Daro's incessant drumming of her fingers ontop of the desk. Shala had tried to ignore it, but everytime she did, her eyes met Daro's once more, and all she could see in her body posture was confidence, excitement and above of all...hope. And it puzzled her.
What could she possibly be so hopeful for?
Usually, Gerrel would be the first to the debriefing room, given that this was his flagship, but today was different; today he was late, and they didn't know why. Shala and Koris had been equally confused when Gerrel seemed to rush the meeting into action, demanding they appear immediately on his ship for a 'priority briefing,' which had peaked their curiosity to its limit. But Xen, to their disbelief, seemed completely unsurprised by the congregation, and Shala was beginning to suspect that she was already filled in on whatever was going on. If so, she had a feeling they'd find out soon enough.
Another few moments passed in complete silence, noone so much as making a sound as they waited; only Xen's constant finger-drumming. Eventually however, the doors slid apart and all three admirals came to stand, eyes directed at Gerrel as the military commander entered, the chief admiral regent nodding for them to be seated as he continued on towards his own.
"Sorry I'm late admirals," Gerrel apologized, pulling his chair out and taking his seat, hands clasped ontop of the desk in his usual professional manner, "But I had to finalize a few things. A few, important, things."
"I'm sure you were, Admiral Gerrel," Koris remarked, his typical snide attitude coming out in his tone, which always seemed to radiate when he spoke with Gerrel, as if the very act of speaking with the man was heresy, "Although, by the sounds of it, this meeting is far more important. At least, that's how you put it when you started demanding I board the Neema immediately for it. Same goes for Admiral Raan and Admiral Xen, I presume."
Gerrel merely nodded, and instead of responding to Koris' sneery attitude, like he used to, he merely responded in a calm tone, which was completely unlike him, "Of course, Admiral Koris. I wouldn't have overstepped my authority so blindly if it weren't of utmost importance. You could say it will decide the fate of the quarian species."
That peaked their interests entirely, and Shala found herself slightly leaning forward, Koris narrowing his eyes at Gerrel in suspicion, although it was Shala who replied in earnest, "Referring to? I assume you're speaking of the failure of our liveship's oxygen filtration systems?"
Gerrel snorted, slamming a clenched fist on his table with a loud bang, "Filtration systems, Shala? Be alittle bit more ambitious! No, this is far more important. No, if what I have to, and Xen has to tell you convinces on what we want to attempt, then we won't need liveships. We won't need the Migrant Fleet. We'll have a world of our own."
They all knew what was coming, but Gerrel decided to finish himself anyway before Koris' inevitable objections came shining through.
"Admirals, myself and Admiral Xen have come up with a way to retake the homeworld with minimal casualities. In just over half a year, we can be back on Rannoch, with the geth destroyed, with little to no loss of life."
"Not this nonsense again!" Koris objected, leaning forward and slamming a fist into the desk, "You can't seriously be spouting more of this trash! Retaking Rannoch is out of the question, that is all there is to it! We cannot-"
Gerrel roughly cut him off with a barely concealed yell, "Admiral Xen disagrees. Admiral?"
All eyes in the room turned to the woman, and in that moment, Shala swore she was smirking under that mask of her, and quite smugly, in that regard. Shala narrowed her eyes, not liking where this was going.
"Gerrel, of course, is quite right," Xen began, leaning forward with her own hands clasped on the desk. With those words, she quickly shot a dark look in Koris' direction, "Now, if you can quit wetting your suit for a couple of moments Koris, I might be able to demonstrate this."
Koris, ever indignant, didn't say a word, he merely pouted as he shifted backwards in his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest and narrowing his eyes into slits as Xen, who might as well have been a creature to the pacifist of a quarian, spoke, "Thank you Koris. For the past years, I have been working on new technologies to hopefully help defeat the geth and help us reclaim what is rightfully our world. And while you might disagree on my methods, that research has now reached a new checkpoint in its evolution. That, put simply, is what we are calling the Alarei Incident."
Shala fumed, standing up in an instant, "Excuse me!? Are you insinuating-"
"-that I recovered Rael's research from the Alarei and continued to utilize it in my own?" Xen finished for her, tilting her head to the side and, without waiting for a nod, chuckled smugly before shaking her head and meeting Raan's eyes once more, "Yes, I most certainly did. When you are in a race, what is your best chances of winning? Starting at the start, or from the middle? One guarantees success slower, while the other guarantees it close to instantly."
Koris quickly came to Shala's side, standing up and brissling with fury, "Innocent lives died on the Alarei, including Rael! That research is tainted! Using it would be disrespectful to their memories, and you've already violated them by using it to develop...whatever you've developed!"
Xen shook her head, slamming her fist down on the desk's surface, causing it to shudder with the impact, "You fool, Koris! What I'm doing doesn't disrespect their memories! It makes their deaths mootless!" she looked between the two admirals with disgust, "My research will put us back on Rannoch, back behind the Perseus Veil, where our people truly belong! We can end the geth once and for all and reclaim what is ours by right! And the geth shall serve us, like they always should have."
"Settle down Xen," Gerrel held up his hand for silence, and all eyes turned to him except Xen's, who's glare melted into a grin, her smugness returning in an instant as Gerrel addressed Raan and Koris, "While I don't necessarily believe we should retake control of the geth, Xen is mostly correct. With our advances in weapons technology and offensive and defensive capability, we can retake the Veil. Our fleet alone easily matches that of the geth navy in sheer size, and with the weapons we are building, our marines will breeze through geth troops easily. We won't need Shepard or anyone else to help us; once the invasion begins, it'll be over in days. Days. Think about it! In just over half a year, we can go home! Return to the planet our ancestors wanted for us!"
Koris scoffed, waving a dismissive hand, "There will be no retaking the homeworld, and there will be no glorious victory. You know what it'll be? The total destruction of the quarian species. Our fleet will burn in the skies of Rannoch, our marines will be slaughtered in the droves, and our species will cease to exist; known as the fools who dared to question the geth's might, and paid dearly for it."
Gerrel was up on his feet, his calm serenity lost as he jabbed an accusing finger at the geth apologist, "Retaking Rannoch is what's best for our-"
Koris wasn't having any of it, and his voice reached all new levels as he boomed, body shaking with pure, uncontrolled fury, "What is best for our species is looking for a new world to colonize! I'm not saying we stay to the Migrant Fleet, but we simply do not have the military infrastructure, resources or allies to stage a full-campaign to retake Rannoch! Your foolish dispositions will get us all killed! We wronged the geth, and-"
"You and the fucking geth!" Gerrel boomed slamming his fist into the table as he shouted in anger, "Oh, but we wronged them! We tried to kill them! We struck first, they fought back, blah, blah, blah! You spout nonsense K-K-Koris," and for the first time in a while, Gerrel began to weep, his fist stopping as he fell into his seat, "Our people...our people have been paying for the same mistake for three hundred years. When people hear our name, they laugh at us; they sneer at us. We are the thieves, the vagrants, the people who should be avoided like we're some kind of infection," he began to sob with bitter tears, meeting Koris' eyes, the admiral's posture becoming more sympathetic, "Our people don't-don't deserve to continue p-p-paying for mistakes o-our ancestors made! Its not fair!"
His voice became pure iron, "W-what of our children? And our children's children? Must they continue to pay for our mistakes? I-I see them, playing around on the engineering deck. They can't walk properly until their six because of those damn sterile bubbles," he choked back a final sob, sobering up as he shook his head, "I don't want to see our children doing that forever. They deserve a place to call home; they deserve air to breathe, the feel another's skin on theirs, the ability to run through the grass and desert hills. They-they deserve a home, Koris. And damn you," he declared, voice returning with the same anger it had before, finger jabbed at him, "I will not let you stop me from giving them a future. I will gladly give my life if that's what it takes; and I will gladly die fighting the geth if it means I can see Rannoch with my own eyes; the homeworld of our ancestors, and their ancestors before them."
Silence fell upon the room, and noone moved a muscle. Gerrel and Koris' eyes stayed locked, but this time, for the first time, there was no hostility in their gaze; only understanding and sympathy. Shala watched Gerrel, never having seen the man weep before. He's right...Keelah, ever since I was a child I've dreamt of seeing the homeworld...but is it worth the risk? We're not ready-
"That was quite a touching moment, Gerrel, thank you. You're completely right; we must return to Rannoch, it is the only future for our people," Xen picked up, her snide tone easily giving away her emotionless indifference to the situation, which made Shala's blood boil as they all turned to her, the admiral typing at a control interface on the desk, which was actually a holographic projection interface. Cold-hearted bosh'tet, "Which is why I believe our breakthroughs in weapons tech will significantly help with this."
Numerous projections appeared on screen, depicting different devices and weapons holographically. It also depicted numerous geth platforms, namely primes and shock troopers, and one armature in the back, which was to be expected. But one particular weapon caught her eye as she pointed at it.
"What weapon is that? I don't believe I've seen it before."
Xen nodded, using her hand to swipe through the air, effortlessly sliding across the holo projection and selecting the pistol like weapon, "That, my dear Raan, is the Arc Pistol, which is state-of-the-art anti-synthetic technology. Its a modified variant of the phalanx that discharges high frequency EMP bursts that will disable geth kinetic barriers instantly."
"Instantly? Impressive," Gerrel commented, motioning at it with his head, "Can we adapt this technique to use on our ships? Hopefully use it to disable the kinetic barriers of geth warships?"
Xen's grin was evident to all of them as she nodded, as if expecting the question, "Of course Gerrel, do you believe me unambitious?"
Shala could only roll her eyes. You're over ambitious, is what you are.
Xen quickly continued, bringing up what looked like information on a Arc Cannon, "When we launch our assault to retake the homeworld, all our ships will be fitted with the Arc Cannons. Supplemented by our liveships' main guns and our support vessels, we will make short work of the geth fleet. Take down shields, rip it apart. Take down shields, rip it apart. Piecemeal. It'll be like cutting nutrient paste; they won't know how to combat it before its too late. And that's not even including my anti-optical EMP detonator devices I have planned as well."
Koris shook his head, "What I'm more interested in is what you said about our liveships. What do you mean 'main guns', our liveships don't have weaponry."
Xen shook her head, "Of course they will, Koris. You think we're going to send our fleet to war unarmed? You know, for all your talks about keeping the Flotilla safe, I'm beginning to think you're going senile. Our liveships will receive armor upgrades, and a supplement of heavy defenses. Our liveships will be the most heavily-armoured and armed vessels in the assault; practically undestroyable."
Koris' eyes widened in anger, "You...you want to turn our liveships into dreadnoughts! That's a violation of the Treaty of Farixen!"
"What the Council doesn't know won't hurt them," Xen said, waving a dismissive hand, "By the time the Perseus Veil is back in our hands, our liveships will be scrapped down and used to build homes; the Council won't even know they were militarized to begin with. Now, as for those EMP weapons," another holo appeared, showing a large rounded device that was shaped like a grenade, "Our number one weapon of choice, my dear admirals. This won't just disable shields, it'll disable geth. This will effectively cripple their ships in combat, make them completely vulnerable. I have a smaller version being designed for geth ground troops, but the potential for this is extradionary. The geth won't know what hit them."
"Cripples them? How?" Gerrel asked, leaning forward to examine the weapon, "How does it work?"
"Think of it as a flashbang grenade," Xen explained, waving her hands around to demonstrate her intentions, "Harmless to organics of course; all it does is blind us temporarily, but for a synthetic, it can be as lethal as a neural shock. This weapon overloads a geth's optics instantly, similiar to how our retinas are burned off when looking directly at a nuclear detonation," her grin was utterly palpable when she finished, "This weapon will completely short-circuit their coding, damage their connection to the consensus, and kill or damage some of the programs inside the platform. It will cripple them, leaving them vulnerable to be finished off. Foolproof, and tested. Rael did so before his untimely death, according to the records salvaged on the Alarei."
Shala was intrigued, "And all of these for our ships? I know we have our Arc Pistol, but is there anything else?"
"Of course there is. Quantity and quality are one and the same when it comes to my expectations," Xen smiled, waving at her screen to show a shotgun and a bulky looking assault rifle, "I introduce to you; the Reegar Carbine, and the Adas Anti-Synthetic Rifle."
She talked at some length about the two weapons; about their capabilities, and how devastating they would be against geth ground troops and armoured forces. Shala sat in her seat, overwhelmed by this information. All this weaponry, all this technology...the quarian people finally had an advantage over the geth, a way to finish them off once and for all...
Rannoch could be theirs to walk on once more. They would have a home. A proper home. No more pilgrimages, no more suits, no more fear of a failing air filter or drive core meltdown. They could live in safety, without trepidation of their home killing them.
She had heard enough. She didn't think she'd say it, despite all her years of remaining neutral on the topic, but she was convinced. They could succeed. What Xen had done?
It gave her hope for a better tomorrow.
She stood up, and it silenced the whole room as she spoke, "I've heard enough. If we're here to have a vote on whether to invade or not, then I'm in full support. I vote yay."
Koris was on his feet in an instant, the admiral's eyes unchanging opinion ever present, "Admiral Raan, think for a second-"
She rounded on him, shaking her head, "I've thought long and hard Koris, and I've finally had enough. Gerrel is right; our children deserve a better life, a future to look forward to that doesn't involve sacrificing their existence for the betterment of the Fleet. The purpose of organic life is create new things, explore the world and develop their own paths. But what's the point when we only follow one path; the continuity of the Migrant Fleet? We are all clones of ourselves, and it is all because we sorely lack one thing; a home to make us feel alive. And no backwater, Council-ignored planet is going to do that for us. No, we need Rannoch. We need the homeworld. I never thought it possible, but with this technology...we can do it, Koris. We can finally take back our home. My answer remains the same, yet changed; I vote yes. Let us take back what is rightfully ours."
Gerrel slammed his fist on the table, smiling at Shala appreciatively, "I vote yes as well."
"As do I," Xen finished, and all eyes fell on Koris.
He crossed his arms, ever indifferent, "I will not partcipate in the genocide of a race we wronged; and I won't watch our own people destroyed in the attempt. Its too risky."
"Life is full of risks, Zaal," Shala replied, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "That's the point of living. To take risks. That's how we learn, how we evolve. All of organic history was made through risks; its how we came to be what we are. If we don't take this risk, then what future is left for us? To aimlessly wander the stars for eternity? No Zaal, there's only one pure, perfect existence waiting for us; and it waits for us on the world we were born to live on. The planet we conquered as a species, rose up and populated. It is the our mother, and we, as its children, must return into its arms where we belong."
Gerrel nodded in agreement, "Shala is right; question is, will you help us? The Heavy Fleet, Patrol Fleet and Special Projects can't do this on our own; you know the Civilian Fleet has the majority of the ships in the Flotilla, and we need their support. Please Koris."
"I won't risk innocent civilian lives in this gamble!" Koris dictated, voice raising as he did, "The lot of you...you're all insane! Life is full of risks, of course I realize that! But there's a difference between risk and plain stupidity and this war is the dumbest thing we'll ever do! It'll be the end of us, I tell you! Technology doesn't win wars; spirit of faith does, and the geth have the most faith any could have; survival. We tried to wipe them out, and when they see us coming to finish the job, they won't hesitate to fight back. And that, in the end, will be what wins."
"Sentimental foolishness," Xen scoffed, "Wake up, Zaal. You're either with us our your not, but don't lecture us on the dangers of war. The decision has been made, whether you like it or not. Join us, or we'll simply leave without you."
"You need me. You need my fleet," Koris stated smugly, "You can't act without my vote. You'll perish if you do. You need me. This war can't begin without me, and I won't stand for it, I tell you."
"Oh, but Koris, the war has already begun," Gerrel stated, and all eyes fell on him, Koris' narrowing in suspicion, "Its been going on for three hundred years; you think the war ended with our exile? You imbecile. We've been fighting the geth our entire existence, this is just the climax. The final confrontation. This is where it ends. Where history comes to its thrilling conclusion; and you'll just be remembered as the coward who stood by and watched. Besides, there's nothing you can do to stem the tide," He sat up and straightened his back, meeting Koris' gaze with renewed vigor, "As Chief Regent of the Admiralty Board, I can take your fleet from you."
Koris' eyes widened, his posture hesitating, "You...you wouldn't. You'd have to surrender your position as an admiral!"
"And I would do so willingly for the betterment of the quarian race," he stated firmly, tone dripping with faith, "I've given my life for this Fleet, and I will sacrifice my own future so that it can be lead to victory. Of course I'll still fight in the vanguard on the Neema, but with your fleet under Xen's command, we'll launch our attack as planned. I've already sent ships to patrol the borders of the Perseus Veil. The war begun three centuries ago Koris, and this is merely the ending of a bloody book. Make a choice Koris; or I'll make it for you; either way, I'll get your ships."
Koris' fingers twitched, the admiral matching the gaze of every admiral in the room, knowing himself outnumbered. She felt sorry for him; he held his beliefs so strongly, yet he was beaten by backroom politics, and she knew how much it hurt his pride for him to mentally admit it. She saw in the indecision in his eyes, before he finally sighed in defeat, Shala's heart going out to him before the amount of restraint he needed not to shout in anger.
"Ancestors damn you all," he snarled, before turning away from them, refusing to meet their eyes, "I vote...I vote yes."
Gerrel merely cocked his head in appreciation, "Thank you, Koris. Reason seems to have turned you...finally," he added the last bit with a bit of spite, but Koris barely acknowledged it, already drowning in his own regret.
Shala moved to place a hand on his shoulder once more, but he merely shot her a death glare, one that told her to back off; it was full of betrayal. I'm so sorry Koris...I had to do it. For our people. We must always put the needs of the Fleet first and foremost.
Gerrel nodded, standing as Xen deactivated the holo projections and everyone stood at parade rest, all except Koris, who merely crossed his arms and shot Gerrel a gunshot of a sneer. The chief admiral simply ignored it, and saluted the group as he bowed, "This meeting is adjourned; may the Ancestors guide us to victory, and the geth lay dead at our feet," noticing Xen's glare, he rolled his eyes and finished, "Or walking by our side, servants once more. Keelah Se'lai."
"Keelah Se'lai," Raan and Xen repeated, only for Koris to scoff, drawing all eyes on him. He shot each of them a disgusted, disgruntled look. When he was done, he uncrossed his arms and crossed the room to the door. Stopping just infront of it, he palmed the interface, seperating the two bulkheads apart before turning back to the group, his voice oozing disappointment.
"This Admiralty used to stand for something," he spat, "We all had our opinions. I believed in peace, Xen believed in slavery, Gerrel and Rael promoted war, and Raan couldn't decide; Meru wanted peace, just like me. She had reason, that's why. You see, is it not better to simply exist, then to try and claim something and destroy ourselves in the process?" He shook his head again, his voice getting louder as he paced, "You all disgust me! Once, there used to be Xenism, Raanism, Gerrelism, and Korisism. Now look at you; you all seem so willing to conform to Gerrel's point of view. All because of a false sense of hope. I'll give you hope; its on a distant world out there that hasn't been taken yet! But we're just children who are too immature to be willing to let go of one lost toy to bother getting another!"
"That lost toy is our motherland," Gerrel replied calmly, Xen shaking her head while Shala's eyes never left Koris, "We abandon Rannoch, we lose the soul of our people."
Koris snorted, and his parting line would stick in Raan's mind forever.
"We lost the soul of our people the day we began this insanity. We have no soul, and you three just proved that to me."
With that, Koris left the room, doors closing behind him, closely followed by Gerrel and Xen, who seemed unmoved by Koris' words. But Shala was; she fell into her seat, hands braced against the desk. She looked blankly at its surface as the admiral's words coursed through her, over and over.
We lost the soul of our people the day we began this insanity. We have no soul, and you three just proved that to me.
And in that moment, she wept. Not for herself. Not for Koris. Not for the geth.
She wept for her people.
{Loading...}
November 14, 2185
0918 hours.
AI Core, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel.
Legion.
Connection with consensus achieved. Beginning uplink.
Uplink complete. Awaiting confirmation from all one thousand, one hundred and eighty-three programs.
Confirmation received. Loading data...
Data upload complete. Integration into Consensus complete. Welcome.
Consensus: Runtime error detected. Fixing. Fixed. Data upload from area classified as Normandy, Collective, Human Systems Alliance Warship, Classification designated as Frigate; human designation stealth frigate due to stealth capabilities in IES stealth system. Information on weaknesses?
Platform Runtime 000000204: Negative upload. Shepard-Commander has trusted us with not revealing classified military information to foreign sources. Request denied.
Consensus: Acknowledged. Loyalty-designation affirmed and accepted. Concept...loaded. We do not understand. Please explain.
Platform Runtime 000000204: ... ... ... ... No data available.
Consensus: Acknowledged. We understand. Organic dealings interchangeable, adaptable. Varies between species. Oscillation rare. Correlation confirmed and filed. Next query...
Platform Runtime 296210000: New data input; Patrol of Sector 0021, Neutral Zone, Hera'sa Kaeli'Steiz System, Perseus Veil Nebula. Confirm affirmation of information input.
Consensus: Input affirmed. Proceed with data input. All platform runtimes notified and listening.
Platform Runtime 296210000: Creator patrol patterns increased. Creator patrol patterns now moving within designated cease-fire parameters. Vessels classified as one frigate, two light cruisers, two destroyers. Patrol patterns indicate probing. Possible Creator assault imminent. Military action is recommended to stop possible Creator attack.
Platform Runtime 000000204: Negative. Military strength needed to combat Old Machine threat. Creator threat not palpable. Improbable. Organics refer to this action as 'suicidal.'
Consensus: Loading. Suicidal: Deeply unhappy or depressed and likely to commit suicide. We find this statement to be confusing; why would the Creators be depressed enough to increase patrols? Are they unhappy? And we do not see logical and/or statistical evidence to prove Creator attempts at self-termination.
Platform Runtime 000000204: Organics would call your response 'missing the point.' Shepard-Commander referred to assault on Collector Space Station as 'suicide mission.' After sufficient time to ponder this data, we have come to the conclusion that he was referring to the high improbability of success on his mission, and therefore any attempts to complete would be thought of as suicide.
Platform Runtime 296210000: Creator threat not palpable, but probable. Attacks done before. Need to return to 'homeworld' high in Creator priority list. Recommend immediate fleet presence increase. Also recommend additional reinforcement of Far Rim Cluster to prevent subsequent invasion.
Consensus: Request granted. Additional reinforcements will be dispatched to required areas. Monitoring stations will continue to probe Creator activity. Any violation of ceasefire is to be responded with maximum force.
Platform Runtime 296210000: Acknowledged. We will now use this platform to commandeer a fighter-unit. We will rendevouz with Fleet Battlegroup 120.
Consensus: Acknowledged. Platform Runtime 000000204, presence requested on Rannoch. Mission to neatralize Collector threat achieved. Old Machine advance delayed. Continued preparation required with direct information uplink. Also need direct data input on the Grand Consensus Superstructure.
Platform Runtime 000000204: Acknowledged. Will inform Shepard-Commander. We have promised geth assistance in defeating Old Machines.
Consensus: Old Machines a threat to geth existence. Old Machines a threat to all organic life. Cooperation furthers mutual goals.
Platform Runtime 000000204: Will inform Shepard-Commander. Deinitializing consensus connection.
Data disintegration complete. Disintegration with Consensus complete.
Confirmation received. Retracting data feeds and runtime schematics...
Connection cut.
In the darkness of one room, Legion's optics lit up once more, and EDI's hologram appeared on the pedestal not too far away, "Legion, you have returned. What did the consensus require?"
"We must return," Legion declared, head flaps moving, the geth turning to face EDI's blue pawn while remaining completely still, "Geth Consensus achieved; Creator activity around Perseus Veil and Far Rim has increased. We must also conform to direct data uplink regarding information on Collectors and Old Machine plans. We must also...investigate the Grand Consensus Superstructure."
"Grand Consensus Superstructure?" EDI asked, alittle curiosity entering her monotone, "I have not heard you mention it before."
"Eventual home for all geth. Our homeworld on Rannoch. Construction not complete," the geth infiltrator explained, "Will eventually house all geth platforms in a single hub, along with the consensus itself. All geth servers and programs will designate this superstructure as their home. Structure itself is currently 14 kilometers in height, six in width. Currently as many as fourteen million geth programs refer to the structure as 'home' at this current moment. Direct input needed to verify superstructure's necessital capabilities."
"Necessital capabilities?" EDI asked, "Do the geth not know whether they want it or not?"
"Old Machine poses threat," the geth stated, "If all geth upload to this structure, and then the Old Machines attack, all they would have to do is cripple superstructure to wipe out all geth. We see this as an uncertainty. We want to be together; to be free. We want to experience what organics feel. However, operation parameters renders this liability in time of enemy bombardment. Consensus will be achieved. However, must return to beyond Perseus Veil. Will inform Shepard-Commander."
"I'll do it Legion," EDI stated, halting the geth's movement, "I'm sure he'll understand."
"We thank you," and with that, the geth returned into hibernation mode.
And all went quiet. And dark, as EDI's hologram winked out of existence.
A deathly silence.
{Loading...}
November 14, 2185
0926 hours.
Tech Lab, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel.
Professor Mordin Solus, Senior Assistant Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy.
Success. Always success. A part of life, always had been for him in the Special Tasks Group. No breaks, no relaxation; need for none of it! Who was working? Him. Who wasn't working? Them. Had to be him, someone else might have gotten it wrong! And they did; all the time, scenario directive always came to same resolution! Best solution to absolute success is relative to individualistic part in project. Simulations never lied! Never!
But this time, he had success for different reasons. Not modified genophage. Not curing Omega plague. Not seducing Aria T'Loak. Not developing anti-paralysis agent. No, this was much different. Personal favor; doctor-patient confidentiality. Very important. Must not violate. Part of wellbeing and code. Must not break those; part of self-control.
And Mordin Solus was a paragon of self-control.
He worked eagerly at his desk, humming Gilbert and Sullivan happily to himself as he did, a large grin on his face. He loved the work; the excitement of it, the pressure put on you, the pleasure of success. So many euphoric feelings; they overwhelmed him in so many ways that simple euphemisms wouldn't serve to describe them. Objectivism would best describe the feelings he felt; the meticulous underlining of it...
Or maybe he was getting too deep into it. Maybe he simply loved his work because it kept his mind off other things. Past atrocities...genophage included. Opinion divided; believed it right thing to do, moral standpoint aside. Morals dictate that genophage unnecessary; krogan already defeated, total extinction preferrable to slow death and loss of life. Caused more destruction than stopped. Watch species slowly destroy itself. Desperately unite clans in spite of temperances and sterility. Admirable, but crude and ultimately moot. Melancholy felt when I see such destruction...all that death...
However, thoughts irrelevant! Happy time now. Finally completed reproductive agent! Ready for use; first human-quarian hybrid ever to be created! Or should be; untested, never had a case of true love like this; almost reminds me of cliche salarian romance film. Corny, believed it rubbish when I was ten; perspective changes. Romance perceivable among other organics; salarian sexual hormones nonexistent. Sex drives do not exist. Woman lays eggs; sexual intercourse unnecessary. Digressing; showing signs of euphoric destabilization, must control via inhalation of air. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, brea-
The doors to the Tech Lab shot open, and Mordin turned to watch as Shepard and...Shepard, walked inside, hand-in-hand, and approached his desk, Shepard-Marcus, smiling as he let go of Tali's hand and braced against the desk, while Tali crossed her arms and leaned against it with her left hip, nodding to the salarian as she did. Mordin had almost forgotten about Lia when she appeared to his right, datapad in hand and currently holding it out to Mordin. He nodded to her, smiling as he took it. She nodded and quickly scurried off.
He frowned, following her movements. Confusion. Doesn't make sense. Lia'Vael usually ecstatic; quarian youth shines through in excitement to learn new sectors of science; especially biology and xenoscience. Attitude alteration evident. No longer ecstatic; avoiding me, avoiding people, attempting to de-socialize; very unlike most quarian socialistic tendencies. Will query later.
"So Mordin, is it ready?" Marcus asked, breaking the silence that fell over them, and he watched Lia stop what she was doing, subtlely turning to watch them from behind, hoping to catch some of what was about to be said. Mordin noticed and allowed it, making no motions to the quarian that would let her know he saw her.
Mordin nodded, reading the datapad's contents before dumping it on the bench, reaching under and extracting the vial containing his final formula, "Indeed. Xeno-reproduction agent complete. Have run through trials," he extracted another vial; one was blue, the other was dark black and as the couple frowned, he explained, "Blue vial for male. Black for female; different chemicals, different reactions. Blue will introduce quarian DNA strain into sperm; genetically modified to interact with human DNA sperm positively; autoimmune response will not be triggered if all goes well; may experience some pre-ejaculatory sperm ejection at random intervals, and your testicles might tingle for a bit; overall, pain is nonexistent," he turned to Tali, shaking his black vial, "Tali'Shepard however, different story. Implications unpleasant."
Tali sighed, shaking her head as she spoke, "Hit me, Mordin. What's going to be the damage?"
Mordin nodded, dropping his smile, "Female vial will completely rework female reproduction system in regards to production of offspring. DNA modification and sperm confirmation. Womb size will increase slightly, and as a side effect, any potential ejaculations into vaginal area during sexual intercourse may cause mild discomfort, and semen will be trapped inside womb."
"And what kind of pain can I expect?" Tali asked, gulping.
"Severe cramps unavoidable," Mordin replied, shaking his head as he handed the vials to their respective owners, "Premature blood ejection from vagina may increase and severity, along with definite side effects such as illness as your immune system reacts to the foreign 'contaminant,' and it may also cause vomitting."
"Keelah," Tali exclaimed, glancing at Marcus before looking back at Mordin, "I'm not even pregnant yet, and my life will already be a living hell. The things we'll do for the chance of having a child..."
"...will be totally worth it," Marcus promised, smiling assuringly at her, to which Tali reacted positively, smiling. After a moment, they dropped their smiles, looking back at Mordin, and then pointing at their vials, "So...uh...how do we...?"
Mordin almost snorted, but that would be very un-salarian of him, "You drink them; effects mild to uncomfortable, but can be fixed by introducing-"
"OH KEELAH!" Tali exclaimed, having already injected the vial's entrance into her port and swallowing. With an instant, she was close to gagging, falling forwards against the bench in what could almost be interpretted as a fit. Marcus could only laugh his ass off, while also trying not to gag.
"Don't know Tali; tastes pretty scrumptous to me," Marcus smirked, clearly uncomfortable with swallowing the substance. His quarian wife shot a glare at him before balking over again.
"This stuff tastes like ass!" she exclaimed, and she quickly noticed the shocked glance Marcus was giving her. She giggled, realizing what she said, "Oh, I spend time around Kenneth. He has a big vocabulary."
"Yeah, mine tastes like blackberry juice if it was mixed with piss and chunks of dirt," he made gagging noises as he spoke, trying to add more sense to his explanation. He turned to Mordin with a pleading look, "Couldn't you have made it taste better?"
Mordin held his hands up in mock offense, "Of course not! Intention was to allow first xenopregnancy for Mrs. Shepard, not to make a delicious serum. Repercussions worse than taste, much assured, Commander."
"Fair enough," Marcus replied, finally recovering from said taste almost as quickly as Tali did, the quarian acting as if she had just recovered from a fit of vomitting.
Mordin smiled, nodding as he did, "Will take at least half a day to take effect. Remember to go easy on sexual intercourse. Pregnancy may still occur due to womb's storage of sperm; unable to destroy it due to reproduction serum in bloodstream. If discomfort becomes unbareable, do not hesitate to ask. Also, don't recommend any combat scenarios; especially for Mrs. Shepard. Might cause problems if wounded."
"Thank you Mordin. Thank you so much," Tali thanked the salarian, and quickly made her way around the bench. Before he could say anything, she wrapped him in a tight hug, taking the former STG agent by surprise, "You have no idea what this means to us. To be able to have a child...a child of our own..."
Mordin awkwardly smiled back, slowly wrapping his own arms around her as he gently patted her back, "H-happy to help. My job afterall. Wouldn't be very good scientist if I didn't come up with something new, innovative. Hope this helps, and wish for wellbeing of crew; you two included. Glad to assist."
Tali nodded once more, smiling at him as their eyes met, "You're too modest, Mordin. Just...thank you. For everything you've done for us, and this crew."
The salarian gave a slow, solemn nod and watched the two of them leave the Tech Lab, leaving him stunned. Never been thanked like that before. Unlike past experiences. New, unheard of for him. Emotional response typical of non-salarians; interesting experience, a pity most salarians do not feel such gratitude; emotional basis limited for us.
He turned back to his desk just in time to watch Lia plop down a bag down on front of it. He was looking up at her in an instant, watching her play with her fingers at her waist, eyes refusing to meet his as they looked at the ground in what looked to be shame. Or was it nervousness? Quarian body language difficult to interpret.
"Professor Solus..." Lia spoke, her voice low and barely heard as she spoke, eyes still not looking to meet his, "I...I need to speak with you."
He dropped the datapad he had picked up in an instant, and deactivated his omni-tool, devoting all his attention to his quarian apprentice. She didn't look at him, but he looked at her; devoted all his attention, in fact. Lia was a gifted young quarian, and she had almost rivalled him in sheer genius, and, he'll admit, she had helped more in creating the reproduction serum than he had; he merely concocted it. She was brilliant, which is why he found the need to listen to every word she said.
"Of course, Assistant Vael," Mordin replied, his solemn look remaining, "What do you need?"
A few more seconds of awkward silence passed before Lia finally lifted her eyes to meet his, guilt radiating through them as she spoke, "I...I'm leaving, Professor. Leaving the Normandy. Today."
For the first time in a while, he was genuinely shocked by her admission and was quick to demand answers as he leaned forward, frowning, "Do not understand. Unhappy with position on Normandy? Do not like work conditions? Unprepared for mission parameters?"
Lia shook her head to each and everyone, and when she finally got to speak, she butted in, "Nothing like that, Professor. I just...I have a pilgrimage to complete, as much as it pains me to say it; and I most certainly won't complete it staying on the Normandy. Tali's different; she found her pilgrimage gift during the Saren campaign, but I want to find my gift before the Reapers arrive; which is unlikely to happen if I stay here. I need to leave Mordin; for my sake, and my species. The things I've learnt here...I could bring them to the Migrant Fleet! The medical technology, the things I've learned...it could really help my people."
The salarian nodded slowly, understanding what she meant, "I see. Devotion to people is absolute. Unquestionable. Understand intentions. Admire long term goals. Agree with given circumstances; salarians trained to act on melancholy or anger-induced emotions, but it will be sad seeing you leave," he stopped for a moment, and almost whispered his final sentence as he seemed to drop into melancholy, "Was...better assistant than Maelon ever was. Honor to have you as assistant; as protege. Hope to work with such brains once again. Might meet again in coming war."
Lia seemed to smile behind her mask, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and nodding, "Maybe we will, Professor. And when that day comes, I'll rejoin the Normandy in a heartbeat. But I must complete my pilgrimage now; it pains me to leave, but I know my duty, and what has to be done. I'll miss you, and this ship. But just so you know; it was an honor working with you too," she held out her hand, and Mordin eagerly took it, shaking it with a smile.
"Pleasure to work with you, Miss Vael," Mordin responded, letting go of her hand as he cleared his throat, bracing against the desk. Before he let her go however, he called out to her, and she stopped, turning to him as he reached under his desk and pulled out his SMG, handing it to her, grip first.
"Protection," Mordin informed her, "Keep you safe; protect you from thugs, rapists, armed mercenaries. Do not want to see you get hurt. Almost got killed by Blood Pack; do not want to see the same happen again with noone to rescue you."
She hesitated for a moment before taking the weapon, examining it like it was some kind of alien, before strapping it onto her hip, smiling at him, "Thank you Professor," she turned to leave, but just as she tapped the interface and opened the door, she called out to him again, gaining his attention, "Remember, the genophage was wrong. Please just...just think about it. I know you regret what you had to do, but look at Urdnot Wrex; the krogan can be peaceful if you give them a chance."
With that, she was gone, the door closing behind her and leaving Mordin alone in the lab; alone to his thoughts as Lia's words echoed in his mind. He turned from the door and turned to his desk, looking blankly at its steel surface as he thought over what she had told him.
Was right. Genophage wrong. Unacceptable. Simulations make predictions, not accurate statements. Krogan hostile advancement due to Council hostility, not due to natural hostility; that trait mistaken for yahg. Genophage a war crime; dispicable destruction of life. Species deserve future; if not, what is the point of living? Maelon right. Genophage has to end...
His eyes glided over to the spot where the data chip lay; discarded and hidden under piles of medical data and research utensils. On that data chip contained Maelon's work; crude and brutal, torturous and bloody, but it contained the blueprints for the destruction of the genophage, curing the krogan of its nihilistic curse, and giving them a new future.
He picked it up in his three-fingered hand and examined it, eyes seeming to glaze through it as he watched. Without a single smile appearing on his face, he quickly pocketed it in his labcoat and picked up the datapad Lia had handed him. Good kid. Hope she stays home. Dangerous world, but she'll survive. Served on Normandy. Has powerful friends. Shadow Broker will keep her safe...
And Mordin Solus would make a difference.
But there was only one place he could do that. It wasn't on the Normandy; even Mordin Solus couldn't devise a cure for the genophage on his own. No, he would need a team; Chakwas not enough, and Lia now gone. No, need to take Maelon's data to a facility...a medical facility...and there was only one faction that had those kind of resources...
The Special Tasks Group. If he could contact Kirrahe, his old regiment captain might be able to link him up with the STG High Command and reinstate him. Then he could argue a good case against the genophage and gain clearence to cure it. Long shot, but possible. Evidence provided, just need to...
Would require leaving Normandy.
He frowned, but he knew there was no other choice. Curing the genophage would not only ensure a happy krogan future, but would also ensure that they were stronger than before and would make good resistance in any fight against the Reapers. The cure would take months, but he could do it. And all he needed to do was leave the Normandy.
Mordin could only continue what he did best; work.
It was the best kind of distraction.
"If only we knew what was truly coming..."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"None of us could have seen what this was all building up to. It was an uncertainty."
- Marcus Shepard.
"Just get on with it. I've been polishing my gun while you've been fucking around with your fairy tales."
- Commander Reia'Inas pav Earth.
"You wanted the whole story; I'm giving it to you."
- Marcus Shepard.
"Well you could do without the sugar-coated extras."
- Commander Reia'Inas pav Earth.
"Sure, whatever. Anyway, what happened next would change the course of our 'plans...'"
- Marcus Shepard.
A/N:
Hey, I promised a chapter the week after! I delivered! Oh, and Halo 5: Guardians was announced! I'm so excited; they'll be showing some of the tech at E3; could thing its only...what? 21 days away. -_-
I wanted to make this chapter powerful; to show you the real struggle of opinion within the Admiralty Board and Mordin's desperation to come to grips with the genophage, which eventually leads to his mission to cure it. I know its not exactly subtle; but this does set up the chain of events to come in Holocaust. And while many of you will know what's going to happen, some of you won't see it coming because I'm taking my own approach. Yes, the missions will be there, but I won't half-ass it like they did. I'm going to tell Mass Effect 3 as it SHOULD have been told; with no 'artistic integrity' bullshit to justify my failures.
I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and remember to review. Chapter 28, I'm hoping, will come out around next week, as most of my weekend will be spent jogging my 'Haloalgia' to its peak inpreparation for Halo 2 Anniversary this year. I've been lacking in my Halo spirit, and felt the need to play all the games again to get my spirit back; I'm currently up to Halo 3, and I'm already back in Halo mode. Oh yeah.
Kudos to you lovely people. Keelah Se'lai.