'Garrus!'
The turian's eyes barely had time to adjust to the darker environment of the Normandy's airlockbefore he caught sight of a swift, dark blur flying towards him, and with a pleased flare of his mandibles, he braced for impact.
Sure enough, in less than a second he found himself propping up a happily babbling quarian, and softly drew his arms around her, careful not to jab her with his talons. Embracing like this was something turians certainly did not do to one another - their bodies just weren't designed for it - but he had to admit he liked having the soft alien pressed against him. After a few seconds, Tali looked up, silver eyes glittering beneath the tinted visor. 'I missed you!'
'You too, Tali,' he replied, ignoring a disapproving grunt from another turian hauling what looked like a piece of a shield generator through the airlock. The man was dressed in a mechanic's uniform with a heavy bandolier of tools strapped across his chest: one of the retrofit crew.
Garrus had to resist an instinctive, protective growl in return, knowing it was pointless and the turian's gesture was directed at him. Turians rarely joined with others outside of their own species, and those few who did, usually joined with asari. He knew there was a stigma attached to interspecies relationships, both because it was "pointless" in that it could never lead to children, and that most of his people considered aliens unclean, but frankly, he didn't give a shit. Squeezing Tali a little harder, he was rewarded with a soft, purring-type noise that had him deliciously itchy under the plates. 'It's good to be back,' he said quietly, not sure if it was directed at Tali, or himself.
Her head tilted up, and he saw the ghosted whites of her eyes narrow - and despite never having seen her face, he knew she'd broken into a wide smile. 'It's been so strange without you here, Garrus. Even with all the mechanics around, it's like the ship has been even quieter than usual.' She led him a little further into the ship, to the passageway between the bridge and the CIC. Once lined with terminals manned by Cerberus staff, it was now all clean, smooth walls that harboured EDI's new computers. He could hear Joker conversing with the AI just behind him, but Tali was still talking, pulling his attention.
'But we're nearly finished now. I can't wait to show you all that we've done; the new shield technology is amazing, you'll love the new gunsand the war room's nearly done and... and...'
As she trailed off, Tali's head dropped and her breaking voice set Garrus instantly on alert. 'What's wrong? Is it Legion?'
'No, no... he's been mostly quiet.' Something in her body language and voice told Garrus that wasn't quite the whole truth: Tali still struggled with the geth, but it was something she tried to deal with on her own, no matter how hard he tried to help... when she came to terms with it, one way or the other, it would be through her own efforts and realisations. 'It's just...'
Tali sighed and leaned in again, resting her helmet gently against his chest. 'I'm just glad you're back. I don't think I'm ready to run a whole ship yet Garrus, everybody keeps coming to me with things I have no idea how to help them with. In an engine room I know what to do, but when I need to deal with port authorities, or manage the workers... I kept feeling like they were telling me what to do, or that everything was going to fall apart, and it was just a matter of time before somebody realised I didn't know what I was doing.'
I know that feeling...
When he led his squad on Omega, for the first time he felt the true burden of leadership and responsibility. In his C-Sec days he had the responsibility of protecting civilians, but no direct subordinates... and the contrast was stark. He was expected to have an answer for everything, to know just what to do, when it felt like most of the time he was simply "pretending" to be a leader rather than fitting into it naturally like somebody like Shepard seemed to.
He pulled back from Tali slightly, and as reassuringly as he could manage, said, 'You've done a great job, Tali. I know some people make it look easy... but it never is. When I was on Omega, I was happy if I could get to the end of a day without anybody dying, or anything going seriously wrong. Everything here's going really well, and that's everything you could want.'
'I...' She sighed, voice distorted by her suit, and shook her helmeted head. 'Ok. I know I was probably being silly... but I'm still glad you're back.'
'Me too.'
'Sooo...' Tali jumped and Garrus spun around at the amused voice, to see Kasumi leaning against the frame of the inner airlock port, arms folded across her chest. 'I've been waiting for an opportune moment to burst in here, but you two are making it really awkward.'
'Kasumi!' Tali's voice rang with a happy timbre as she rushed over to the thief and drew her into a hug as well. 'How long have you been there?'
'She was with me,' Garrus said, chastising himself for forgetting, 'I was going to say, but I got a bit... distracted.'
'Don't worry, I didn't spy! Erm, too much... I like what you've done with the place!'
'Spirits...'
'Are you staying?' Tali asked excitedly, now leading both Garrus and the thief deeper into the Normandy.
'No promises. But I had to drop something off on T'Soni's ship, and hung around for a while...' Kasumi shook her hooded head, strode two steps ahead of the pair, then stopped. 'Maybe. I'm not taking private jobs anymore, but I'm still a thief, not a soldier. If the war needs anything else stealing, I'll be the one to do it.'
The thief looked back, and Garrus could see her painted lips curl into a smile. 'And besides, if I stay here it looks like I'll have my "single-ness" thrown into sharp relief.'
Just ahead of them, a huge specimen of a human male hulked out of the elevator.
Alliance colours... Shepard's new soldier?
He looked around, then gestured at the group. 'Hey, Sparks, can you take a look at something for me?'
'Oh, hello...' Kasumi whispered with wickedness running through her voice, and suddenly the thief flickered, and disappeared into nothing.
'Are you... alright, Faith?'
She has been quiet as we approach the ship, our arms linked together, her face unreadable. Most of our supplies will be loaded from the shuttle we just arrived on, later, but for now we are unburdened, dressed in simple, formal, unmarked uniforms, walking slowly along the gangway running the length of the Normandy towards the airlock.
I thought she would be eager to see the inside... but this is a huge moment for her. Everything about her home will have changed, there will be new crew to manage, and we need to decide just how to move ourselves forward in preparing for war.
What could be going through her mind?
Suddenly she turns, and her face breaks into a soft smile. 'Sorry, yes, I was just thinking we'll need to re-paint the ship. The Cerberus colours are pretty sharp, but they aren't exactly good for our credibility. I can't fly Alliance colours anymore... maybe I could do the Spectre banner?'
The eager anticipation in her voice banishes my worries - she is excited about this!
'Possibly...' I tilt my head, thinking of what could be suitable. 'I have an alternative idea, if you wish to hear it.'
She looks towards me, attention pulled away from the ship, dark eyes drawing me in as we both stop walking at an unspoken command.
I feel like I am the only thing in the galaxy when she looks at me...
'Always. What are you thinking?'
I try to drag myself from the black hole of her gaze, with limited success. 'W-well, I am sure you know that you have something of a... cult... following?'
Her face twists. She is not comfortable with that kind of attention, but I know she is not so oblivious or petty to it as to deny it, or its potential usefulness. 'Mh-hm?'
'Much of the galaxy recognises you as the Hero of the Citadel, from those silly photoshoots we were forced to do after the attack, and your N7 armour is rather iconic. If you wish the Normandy to have the same effect, perhaps you could paint the ship a dark grey, and the wing with a red stripe?'
She nods slowly, then again with more conviction, and a smile. 'That's a good idea. I'll see if the retrofit company has a detailing team we can hire once the fittings are done.'
We resume the slow walk towards the airlock, and when we reach it Faith sighs sadly and takes my hand with her free arm, slowly and softly unlinking our arms but keeping hold of my hand.
I suppose we could not stay joined like that forever, however tempting it might be.
A pang of emptiness runs through me at the broken contact, but the warmth of her hand stays, reassuring and welcome. 'You ready to see our new home?'
I take a deep breath, and smile. 'Yes. Are you ready to be in command of your ship again?'
She looks towards her ship, with a glimmer in her eye. She truly does love her ship, even with the pain I know it holds, even for the endless war and struggle it represents. It is her home... our home, now. 'I am. You'll have to start following my orders now, T'Soni.'
Amusement runs through her voice, so I bump her with my hip and lower my own to a husky murmur. 'And what is your first order, Commander?'
'I know you'll want to play with your new office... but I don't want you staying up all night. Report to the Commander's quarters at nineteen hundred. You're going to need your rest...'
'Garrus, cover my assault! Tali, hold the left! Kasumi, sniper on the ledge at two! Liara, with me!'
Puta Madre!
James Vega slammed his heavily armoured back into a wall, sucking in acrid air to his burning lungs. His ears rang with the sounds of battle, covered by the near-endless stream of clipped commands and shouted warnings as they fought their way forwards, and Vega had to keep reminding himself this was just a simulation.
The air heaved with feigned explosions, the sound of harmless gunfire was almost deafening - Shepard's barked orders projected straight into his ear through his helmet only just audible over the roar - and the choking smell of fake smoke and burning rubble was barely filtered by his helmet.
The Armax Arena provided an experience well beyond a simple battle simulation.
'Vega, clear that damned firing position!'
Move it marine!
Without hesitation, Vega launched himself over the low wall he was hiding behind, stumbling as a "shot" hit his shoulder, the feedback modules in his armour emulating the force of a real shot deflected by his shields. With a grimace he raised his rifle and returned a spray of roaring fire, causing the lightly glowing foes to duck down as he pressed forwards.
Shepard was a damned terror.
There was no other word for it.
He had heard the stories, of course, and like most thought they were at least a little exaggerated... but her squad was tearing through these foes, barely stopping to take cover and denying the enemies any chance to regroup.
'Vega, need backup?' Her sharp voice urged him on: he was tasked with ensuring the bastards dug in on her right were cleared out and she herself was nearly past them now. Having foes behind you was something no soldier could allow.
'I've got it! Nearly there!' he replied without thinking, pressing his back into the nearest wall.
Damn... the soldier had never fought like this before. Combat in the Alliance was usually practiced drills, deadly crossfire and steady advances, but this was something else entirely. Hackett had warned him that his skills would be tested... but he would not fail. Not Shepard, not the Alliance, not himself.
His practiced eye already told him there were too many in the firing position she wanted taking out for a blind frontal assault - size of the bunker, firepower pouring from it and much more considered in a split second - so he pulled out one of the grenades given to him by the arena tech guys.
'Get clear of the bunker!' He yelled into his radio.
A over-cheery, asian accent replied. 'Two secs... ok, do your thing big guy!'
'Ok...' He spun around, and - now close enough for the sensors built into his suit to do their work - the HUD that overlayed his vision with targeting data now displayed five potential hostiles - all taking cover behind the fortifications. He muttered verbal commands, and on cue they lit up with red outlines to confirm acquisition. The missile launcher built into his new armour would have cleared them out without any problems, but unfortunately they were only allowed to wear arena-issued gear.
Adds to the challenge, he thought with a wicked grimace.
He burst around the corner and tossed the grenade with a perfect pitch, calling as he did. 'Frag out!'
Before the explosive even landed, he'd bolted from cover and followed it - into a hail of gunfire. In rapid succession he took two rounds that shattered the integrity of his shields. An instant later a third took him in the thigh - and whatever the suit stabbed him with to inform him of the fact hurt like a bitch and made him stumble.
No!
He righted himself with an angry growl, and charged forwards, clenching his teeth against the pain, the stabbing sensation driving him on with a slight limp.
A second later a heavy thump shook the floor, the arena somehow judging just what the grenade would do, and with a scream of pain Vega leapt over the barricade nearest him. Only one of the vaguely humanoid-shaped holograms had been "killed" by the grenade, and the rest were all sprawled out on the floor. He stomped on the "head" of the nearest one, and gunned down another two as they struggled to raise their guns. He spun to where he knew the final hostile was-
For his heart to freeze as he saw it was already standing with a gun pointed at him. Before he could react, a heavy crack reverberated through his senses and the hologram shattered. A turian growl ringing with harmonics sounded on his radio. 'You owe me a beer, Vega.'
Dammit, too close...
But he could not stop, not now. He called out, 'Bunker clear! Took a shot but I'm fine!'
Shepard's response was instant. 'Keep going! Hostile reinforcements at three, Liara lock them down, Vega take them out! Garrus move forward and set up in the bunker Vega just cleared, Tali, some mech-shaped hostiles with the group straight ahead, see if you can hack them! Keep moving, people!'
New record!
New record!
The group occupying the viewing booth sat in stunned silence as the final wisps of biotic fire died down, as the sounds of gunfire and explosions finally echoed into tranquility and the arena lights began to flare in celebration as the speakers announced Shepard's achievement.
Kelly was proud of her idea to bring the whole crew to watch the ground team in action; she hoped to draw everybody together by sharing the experience. When Shepard had ordered the ground team to begin a heavy training regiment, Kelly had originally been looking forward to exercises in the cargo bay she could spy on, but the soldier instead booked out a "battlefield" in Illium's Armax Arena... and had just spent the last few minutes tearing it apart.
Shepard and her team had burst out through the doors on the far side of the arena in an unstoppable tsunami of gunfire, explosions and biotics, and less than five minutes later the whole field was a scene of simulated destruction, all hostiles completely wiped out. Apparently they had just broken one of the arena's records. Or perhaps all of them.
A sudden pressure drew Kelly's attention away from the carnage. The redhead looked down to her leg, where she saw a dark, slender hand crumpled against the bare thigh, just below the line of the skirt she had worn for this uniquely "off the Normandy" occasion, the touch sending sparks up her body. The redhead followed the toned arm up to the navy blue Alliance shirt of Samantha Traynor, whose chocolate eyes blinked once, startled, and almost comically traced the path of Kelly's gaze back down, before she blushed and quickly removed the hand, stumbling out an apology.
'Oh, I'm so sorry, I was going for... ah...'
With a smile, and a considerable amount of mental wrestling to resist any inappropriate comment about putting her hand back - God, I need to get laid - Kelly proffered the bag of popcorn she had acquired for the event.
'Ha, yes, thanks...' The Comms Specialist slowly took a few pieces of the treat and popped a single one into her mouth, chewing deliberately. 'Sorry about that, I was a little... distracted.'
Biting down yet another flirty retort, Kelly simply offered a bright smile. 'No problem. What did you think of them?'
The specialist's face twisted into confusion, and she looked back down to where her hand had touched. 'Erm, they're... nice!' Kelly's mouth dropped to an "o" as Sam tilted her head and continued. 'Ah... do you work out?'
The psychologist sat in stunned silence for a moment, before she gathered enough conscious thought to reply quietly. 'I... I meant Shepard and the team, Sam.'
Sam's eyes widened, and her skin turned a shade darker. 'O... oh! Hell, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... well, I did, they are...'
She coughed awkwardly, and spoke her next words in an amusingly formal tone. 'I thoroughly enjoyed it.'
Kelly smirked. She simply could not let that one pass. 'So did I.'
'The battle? Or...' Sam looked hard at Kelly, then broke into a smile as well, playfully pushing her arm. 'You're... terrible!'
The glance they shared sparked a rush of heat through Kelly's system, but before anything more could be made of it, Sam's attention was already back to the viewing window, on Shepard and the crew below, the moment forgotten.
When Sam spoke again, she sounded almost wistful. 'I read all the books about Shepard and her alien crew, but to actually see them in action... I'm supposed to be fascinated by fleets! Big powerful dreadnaughts and complex formations and data feeds I need to collate in a war room, but compared to what we just saw-' Traynor gestured to the battlefield, and her voice picked up, 'watching a fleet on a display is like watching slugs race each other. That's it. I'm ruined. Shepard has ruined me.'
Kelly couldn't help but chuckle, and evade the obvious innuendo.'Thinking of taking up a new line of work? She's still on the lookout for new ground crew...'
Sam's deep eyes widened again, and she quickly shook her hands ahead of her. 'Oh, God, no! I only barely scraped past my last firearms proficiency test in the Alliance, and somehow managed to burn myself on a heat sink anyway. I'd probably end up putting on my armour backwards and shooting myself in the foot, or something. I'll just... admire. From a great, great, distance.'
Faith tilted her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the hot water pound her skin and ease the tension from her muscles as she ran her hands through her hair.
The day had gone well. Throwing the team into the deep end together was probably not the most professional of possible training tactics, especially considering James was new and Liara was out of practice with her squad-fighting skills, but Shepard had learned a lot from the exercise; more than justifying the heavy cost of renting both the battlefield and the entire viewing booth.
Kelly had said the crew enjoyed the show: the yeoman continued to prove her worth in bringing the team together, and Shepard was pleased to see she had formed a good friendship with Traynor already. Vega and Cortez clearly already knew each other, and Faith knew that being alone on a new ship could be lonely for some. The open, friendly redhead had a way of making people feel welcome in a way Shepard knew she herself struggled with, and she had already seen the pair laughing together, which pleased her. Doctor Kenson also seemed to be doing well, having set up in Mordin's old lab to review the Collector and Reaper tech samples the team had picked up, and Shepard made a mental note to speak to Kenson the next day to check on the wounds the batarians had left, physical and otherwise.
So far so good.
The combat simulation had also raised Faith's spirits in a manner she was almost ashamed to admit.
I'm a fighter, no way around it...
Feeling the adrenaline pound through her body, that blotting out of the fears and concerns so only the here and the now mattered, that satisfaction that came with a perfectly executed manoeuvre, that rush that came with a destroyed enemy...
She shook her head, spraying water across the bathroom as she stepped forward so the stream from above could run down her back.
It was good to have Kasumi back.
She had not put any pressure on the thief to stay, but Faith also knew she had taken up residence in her old haunt of the port observation lounge - "just for tonight", she said, but Shepard did hope she would stay on. She had fought as if she hadn't missed a day; spotting out key targets, never afraid to get behind enemy lines, and packing more than one handy tech trick to obfuscate the opposition.
Their newest addition was an interesting one. He had shown her a huge suit of top-of-the-line Alliance armour he was itching to try out, but he had been restricted to arena gear today... not that that had impaired his efficiency. She had deliberately set him tasks that would be beyond a "normal" soldier and would stretch even many of the special forces she had worked with over her career, but he had handled them with aplomb... and more than a little recklessness.
Need to make sure he keeps himself in check.
Garrus and Tali had, of course, been perfect. The trio were the backbone of any ground team Faith took: Garrus providing heavy fire support, Tali harassing and debilitating enemies, and the commando herself the tip of the spear, driving everybody forward.
Faith glanced over her shoulder to the open bathroom door, and through the steam and water saw the hazy blue outline of Liara sitting on the edge of her bed. The asari had fit back into the team remarkably well, and her previously powerful biotics seemed to only have improved with the two years she spent alone. However, her physical stamina had weakened, so Faith resolved to have the team begin more regimented drills to ensure everybody was in peak shape.
Satisfied both that she was clean, and that her mental assessment of the crew was complete, Faith snapped the shower to a cooler temperature for a few seconds, before switching it off entirely.
She grinned as warm air blasted some of the moisture from her body, thinking of the gift sitting in the bottom drawer of her desk. She had not had a chance to give it to Liara the previous night - the asari had been wonderfully enthusiastic about "breaking in" their now shared room - and instead planned to give it to her tonight.
Finally pulling on a pair of plain briefs and a tank top, Faith emerged from the shower, rubbing a small towel through her hair-
When all thoughts of gift giving and relaxing disappeared. Liara's face was curiously blank, and a datapad sat loosely in her hands, looking ready to fall through her weak grip.
Faith instantly crossed the room, and ducked to a squat before Liara, taking the datapad with one hand and one of Liara's with the other.
'Liara, what's wrong?'
As if snapped from a daze, Liara suddenly looked to the datapad Faith was now clutching. 'Oh, I apologise, I...'
Faith glanced at the small computer, to see it running its screensaver. It must have been idle for some time.
What could affect her like this?
'I... I received a message from the asari government.'
Faith's heart began to pound, and she tightened her grip on Liara's hand, nervous as the asari looked back up into her eyes.
'What did they say?'
'It... it is about mother. I need to return to Thessia.'
'The recent data release is entirely the opinion of Spectre Shepard. The Council is currently attempting to contact her to investigate her assertions.'
'No, the Council is not ready to comment on her allegations about the Reapers.'
'Her speculation about the disaster of the Bahak system is just that. The Council will not comment on its validity, or rumours of Shepard's own involvement, until our own investigation is complete.'
'We will not discuss her future with the Spectres. As I have said several times, we wish to speak to Shepard about her actions before any decision is made.'
'No, that does not mean her status is in question.'
'We stand behind Shepard in that she believes her actions were justified as per her duty as a Spectre. Before the Council makes a formal declaration on the data, we wish to speak to Spectre Shepard.'
'The Council will not repeat itself any further on this matter. Thank you all for your time.'
Councillor Tevos turned without a further word, bright lights still flashing against the wall before her, and had to resist running from the huge room full of journalists shouting out the same questions again and again.
For two hours she had repeated the same platitudes, the same political nothings, the same indecisive statements that frustrated her and her audience alike.
There was only so much longer she could keep the meaningless words flowing. The press were the least of her worries: militaries and governments were demanding action be taken, though when pressed they were unsurprisingly vague about what that action might be, doubly so considering that the Council had no real power over them. What could they do? Talk to Shepard? The Council had done that, and Tevos knew that Shepard was in at least semi-frequent contact with officials in most species' militaries; always happy to discuss what she knew about the Reapers.
Were they to arrest her? She had killed over quarter of a million batarians. Such an action, no matter why she did it, could not be simply forgotten. In her data release, Shepard had implicated the Reapers in the act. Not with proof or even an outright statement, but hints, that worse was to come.
Or, could they declare that Shepard was right? That galactic invasion was just months away? There was still not enough evidence for that. Tevos was nervous to find herself more and more... amenable... to the idea, but she still couldn't say in any kind of confidence that Shepard was right. She could not ask the galaxy to prepare for something she did not herself believe in.
We could begin something though.
Eventually she reached her office, and as soon as the door slid shut behind her, Tevos alerted her secretary that she was not to be disturbed for ten minutes, and sank into her soft chair.
The data release through the extranet was surprisingly thorough, both in content and delivery. It had seeped into peoples' emails, onto debating forums, into the laps of journalists, all within a matter of hours. There was no way the Council could bury something like that, like they had the original rumours of the Reapers.
If the content itself was not causing so much trouble, the Council would likely have launched an investigation into just how Shepard managed to not only flood the extranet like she had, but also managed it without triggering the dozens of layers of security built into the galactic comm buoy network that made the extranet possible.
But the content had been so explosive that the means had largely taken a back seat.
Videos from Shepard's missions, censored to hide confidential mission information but otherwise leaving everything regarding the Reapers in. Scientific analysis of a surprisingly large amount of technology; from geth upgrades, to the Collectors, to pieces of Sovereign and the human monstrosity found on the Collector base. Theories on everything from the possible size and tactics of the Reaper force based on the archaeological evidence from the Prothean extinction, to estimates on how old they are, and why they do what they do.
Advice. For militaries: to upgrade their technology and begin arming up. For governments: to stockpile supplies and begin wartime preparations. For civilians: to join their species' militaries, or form local militias. No orders, no incitement to panic... just calm, reasonable suggestions, that made it all the harder to paint Shepard as somehow unstable.
And everybody wanted to know what the Council thought about it.
And of course, the Council did not know what they thought about it. Much of the information there they already knew: could they admit that without compromising their positions? They could only delay giving a decisive response for so long.
Tevos softly leaned her head back, the sensitive skin beneath her crest brushing pleasantly against the soft head of her chair, and a gratified groan was dangerously close to erupting from her lips before she caught herself, and flushed ashamedly, despite there being nobody else to see or hear her.
Goddess... it had been far too long since she had received any real physical comfort, relaxed properly in the company of another without any expectations, but she simply could not allow herself that moment of weakness, knowing far too many would take advantage.
Councillor Tevos? I apologise for interrupting.
With a sigh Tevos sat up straight, and activated her comm. 'I told you I was not to be disturbed.'
Forgive me Councillor, but the representatives of the matriarchy have just connected, and they wish to speak with you.
Tevos should have known. It was only a matter of time before they called again.
She was tempted to tell the matriarchs to wait, but the last thing she needed were her own people frustrated with her. She stood up and smoothed out her dress, and ensured her crests were flared proudly. 'Very well, patch them through.'
Three distinctive holograms appeared against her wall as Tevos mentally prepared herself. Whilst the matriarchs always presented a unified front to the galaxy, to retain the image of asari unity, Tevos knew that behind the scenes lay a web of deception, centuries-long grudges, millennia long family ambitions, and more violence than any of them would like to admit.
The three matriarchs before her represented the voices of the main wings of asari politics.
'Councillor Tevos. Thank you for taking our call.' The central figure, Matriarch Leyya of house Y'sona opened the dialogue. Leyya was perhaps the most publicly influential asari - other than herself - currently alive. She preached a path of peaceful mediation and diplomacy, a path of mutual growth and benefit... a path only the asari were fit to lead the other species on. To ensure this, she knew the asari needed great strength and advantage over the other species so their primitive tendencies did not put the asari in a weak position. She advocated tight control of the asari's resources and economy to this effect, ensuring nothing was shared without their people gaining from the transaction. The galaxy saw the asari the way she wanted it to, and her successes made her opinion akin to the word of a monarch.
Tevos clasped her hands before her, and bowed her head with deference. 'Matriarchs. You honour me with your counsel.'
'Enough, Tevos, we have important business to discuss.' To Leyya's left stood Matriarch Ves, of house T'Marni. Matriarch Ves advocated a somewhat provocative view... but one that was gaining increasing popularity these days. She believed the asari were dangerously close to being eclipsed on a galactic stage, and wanted their people to change traditions accordingly. She tried to encourage asari to begin a "useful" life at an earlier age - learning, fighting for something other than a mercenary band, having children - in order to, to reduce the viewpoint to a rather cold comparison, increase their productivity. What is more formidable, she argued, than a population who have spent so long bettering themselves - as scientists, as fighters, as engineers and more - that if anybody was to ask who the galaxy's leading voice on anything was, the answer would always be an asari. She wished the asari to be more active, rather than their current relatively passive style, in their dominance.
'As is your word, Matriarch Ves,' Tevos replied with a nod, unsurprised by Ves' hurried attitude. She always acted as though she had something important to be doing... Tevos might have thought her sire a salarian, if not for the rumours she was actually a pureblood.
'We call with further instructions on your advocation of the will of Thessia, in regards to the "Reaper" issue.' To the right of Matriarch Leyya was Matriarch Artus, of house Arania. Many maidens saw her as weak; a pushover and an appeaser, but Tevos and the others knew her promotion of even greater openness to the galaxy were all to increase the standing of the asari. If every galactic economic policy was written to rely on asari resources, if every alien government contained officials who had sired asari children, if every military used asari technology, their people could never be ignored. To her, the asari would be the glue to hold the galaxy together. Her critics said, however, that by following her opinions, the asari would eventually lose an economy, worlds, even culture to call their own.
These three ideologies were by no means the only ones her people held, and in truth were not even especially mutually exclusive from each other, but they represented the prevalent opinions of the asari galactic presence, and whilst the matriarchs had little in the way of tangible power in the vast asari democracy, their words carried great weight, and they led the discussions amongst the matriarchs who drafted the laws that would be passed to the asari people to vote on.
Tevos simply nodded, and allowed the matriarchs to speak their orders.
'Your current deferment is appreciated in that you avoid committing the asari to potentially hasty and costly action,' Leyya began, 'and you present our position with the grace expected of you. We speak to you now with instruction for the future.'
Thank the Goddess.
Tevos felt a rush of relief at the fact, but kept her face neutral.
The Councillor was normally both willing, and permitted, to make her own decisions and actions in her position. The matriarchs trusted her with this - and she earned that trust in return by furthering the interests of the asari people. But when it came to these Reapers... they wanted frequent updates. They asked for her opinion surprisingly often, before giving unusually explicit orders. Following Shepard's ploy, Tevos had been holding back on committing the asari either way until she had a chance to speak to the matriarchs, to ensure her own career was not damaged.
'Our plans have been somewhat forced by the information circulating the extranet,' said Ves, clasping her hands behind her back. 'The issue is no longer to be delayed. Amongst the data your human Spectre released is a piece of information that has far reaching consequences to the asari people, which has caused some disturbance. I refer to the assertion that Matriarch Benezia of house T'Soni was under the influence of what Shepard calls "indoctrination", and that her treasonous actions were not made of her own volition. As you are no doubt aware, Benezia's posthumous trial is still ongoing, and whilst Shepard made this claim previously, the new... evidence... she presented to the galaxy has clouded the issue. For her actions to be accredited to another would not only clear her of all charges, but also declare to the asari people that we, as their guides, take these rumours as fact.'
Tevos' lips tightened to a thin line. Benezia had been a matriarch of extremely high standing, whose views held a place somewhere between those of Leyya and Artus. Benezia herself held great influence amongst a lot of people, asari and alien alike, because she - unlike many of the other matriarchs who enjoyed the comforts of home - frequently ventured from Thessia to preach her wisdom across the galaxy. If she were declared a victim of this "indoctrination", the consequences would be far reaching.
Matriarch Artus confirmed Tevos' suspicions. 'Given Benezia's unique status amongst both our own people and the galaxy at large in matters social, cultural, financial and religious, to formally declare her actions treasonous and confiscate her holdings would ripple wide. Likewise, to declare her victim of indoctrination and acquit her of personal responsibility would be to admit our position on the Reapers to a great number of people throughout the galaxy... with the obvious associated responsibilities that would come with such an admission.'
Tevos nodded, holding in her frown.
What are they working around to?
Matriarch Leyya finally spoke again, sounding uncharacteristically cold. 'Your part in our course of action will begin following the culmination of the trial of Matriarch Benezia, to which we have demanded the presence of her daughter. Her handler recently reported that not only has she resurfaced on Illium, but also that she has taken Spectre Shepard as a lover, which greatly benefits us. We expect Shepard to accompany Maiden T'Soni to Thessia, at which point...'
With an ever increasing sense of dread, Councillor Tevos listened to her part in the plans... and the schemes of the matriarchs became at once to her more clear, and somehow even further mired in deception and lies.
A/N: A big thank you to Vector 71 and Jay8008 for the help with this one, they really helped me get it into shape :-)
Off to Thessia next chapter!
