Well, I'm back once more. I do suppose I have a few people diabetes because of how sweet last chapter was... oh well. As expected of last chapter, some people really liked it, some people didn't. I must thank you all, however, because all of your reviews were wonderful, perfectly polite, and contained some legitimate criticisms, which is all I ask and all I have always asked. As for this chapter, it contains a scene I really wanted to write, and answers a few questions of what is happening after the Reaper War. I have been and am part of the Mass Effect and Warhammer community, and they are both wonderful communities, but still have their flaws, which I will touch upon in this chapter. There will be two more ending epilogue chapters after this, and then I have plans for a story after that, so fear not! I'm not done yet. I do hope you enjoy this chapter. On to reviews!
gods-own: Thank you. Not sure why it necissiarily couldn't; nothing comes to mind off the top of my head except, of course, for the throw-away skitarii joke. Ultimately, I too am very glad I finished this story, and can be ranked as one of the only Mass Effect/Warhammer crossovers that is actually finished.
Dragon Blaze-X: So sorry. There are some sweet moments in this chapter, though I have tried to balance them out by pointing out flaws and making the future perhaps slightly uncertain. Tell me what you think!
n7laegion: That would be a great idea. Alas, the slice of life comes next chapter, but I can't wait to get it out! Indeed, the Custodes outrank the Inquisitors, though the latter seldom remember. But when the Custodes do interfere in things... oh boy.
Cringyusername SBSVQQ: I understand perfectly. Hopefully this chapter might be a bit more to your liking. I also was looking back, and it seems like you were the very first person to follow Technophiles. Thanks for being here so long!
Colossus Bridger: Thank you. Honestly, no matter what, this comment made it all worthwhile. If I have brightened someone's day just a hair with my story, then it's all worthwhile. I'm glad you liked it, and hope you like this chapter!
themadnimrod: Invictus Aeternum, the Legio Astorum Titan from the Battle of Rannoch, was not in this story, so yes, it did survive. The Blood Angels dreadnoughts were a fun part, though they were really only meant for that part. Either way, I do hope you enjoy this chapter!
The Disquieting One: Well, thank you.
ADeter: Very true. His Majesty's government does need some brightness in their shitshow of a setting.
Savior16: Ah, GW's tenant for giving things the same name comes around with a vengeance... Primaris psykers are the name for sanctioned Imperial Guard psykers who don't work in groups, like Wyvrane psykers. Primaris Space Marines, who also have psykers, are an entirely different group. As for the Asari, we'll see in this chapter.
powerhendler: I'm glad you liked it, and hope you like the rest!
Anatheras: Yes, I do understand your complaints. I didn't even know I was writing the couples only surviving until I finished writing, actually. When I looked back and realized what happened, it was a bit too late to change it, though Robert's survival is ultiamtely unimportant either way because I don't think anyone cares that much about him and he won't be showing again. Oh well. I'm not sure about Cawl. His relationship with Primus is very interesting, and not really explored. Cawl is unfortuantely written far too often as a "deus ex mechina" character who always comes in to save the day, with little to no characterization of himself, which is why some people don't like him. I enjoy exporing him as a character, as well as Primus, so I guess you could say it's me, though if the Black Library authors put any thought into it (which they never do) they might come to the same conclusion. Your complaints are fair, and I thank you for your review. I hope you like the last few chapters, and my next upcoming story (which I think everyone very much will...)!
lucho406: Very true. I'm ending Technophiles and Militarists before any more shenanigans come into play, so we won't be exploring if anyone else comes along. I will, however, explore what is being done to the galaxy and how the characters ended in these last chapters.
Big E: I guess so.
ChaosRaptorEye: Very true about Kasumi, Zaeed, and the Blood Angels being a golden ticket. I wasn't planning on it, but Garrus might just have to name someone Azrael. He's not gonna just end on one kid...
RememberReach312: I'm glad you liked it, and I'm glad you liked the Anderson/Gain duo. They were fun to write. I hope you like the conclusion and the next story!
Shipwreck321: This is not the last chapter, fear not! I'm glad you like Trazyn. He is very fun to write.
Austin: That's kind of the Imperial plan. Quarians are dextro, and humans levo, so Tali and Shepard are not compatable, but we'll just have to see what happens to them, I suppose. Thank you for the ideas with the kids, though. I might just have to write a short few comedy stories about that. Thank you for your well-wishes, and I hope you like this chapter and the ones to come!
Leon 15: I'm glad you liked it! The Chaos gods probably kind of know about this universe, but they can't influence it and won't be showing.
valhalan guardsman: The skitarii line was a throw-away joke; I guess it was more hit or miss. Hope you like these coming chapters (at least better than the last)!
BonesofSmite: I'm glad you liked it! Things may be coming to an end, but at least it's better than a lot of stories here that ramble on and have no end. However, there are two chapters to come, and more stories after that, so stay tuned! I hope you like them!
OscuroSignore-51: I'm glad you liked it! The Commissar bit was fun to write. I do also wonder if he knew Cain. They're very similar... Trazyn took the Iron Warriors and all his other museum exhibits back, I'm afraid. The last part with Angela/Nictus was, in my own planning, described as an "amost sex-scene". I have been around a few Mass Effect fanfic writers, and let me tell you... The Mass Effect community is really, ridiculously horny. I guess I both lamp-shading, poking fun at, and giving my own version of that, with a more sweet and realistic ending instead of just constant hedonistic sex. That's something else I've tried to explore in this chapter, especially the difference between the Mass Effect and Warhammer communities and the bad parts within (including that particular type of writer and person), though it's much better done, more important, and has no cringe parts or almost sex-scenes, so you readers will enjoy it a lot better, I think. Again, thanks for your reviews, and I hope you like the chapter!
oOo
A Question of the Future
"Watch what people pray for. If one prays to lie with another, you have no need of that man. If one prays that his child does not die, that man is virtuous." -Marcus Aurelius
"It is not a weakness to desire love. The weakness is when we settle for less than love." -Crystalina Evert
"To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: the sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd." -Hamlet, Act III, Scene I, by William Shakespeare
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Approximately Ten Months After the Conclusion of the Reaper War
oOo
"Struggles continue between the Imperial Oligarchy and xenophiliac groups. While this is a polarizing issue to many, talks have been arranged on Summus Potestas to find a peaceful solution to the betterment of all. We look forward to the ongoing efforts to foster peace, and will update all our viewers as news comes out.
The Adeptus Mechanicus has entered talks with Primarch Fedorian of the Turian Hierarchy to establish a forge world in Hierarchy space. While nothing officially conclusive has come out of these negotiations yet, rumors say that the Primarch has agreed to give the Mechanicus Impera, fourth planet in the Trebia System, to the Mechanicus in exchange for their material aid to the Hierarchy. The details remain to be seen.
The Mechanicus has significantly built up its new forge world on Mars. The newly-appointed Fabricator General Katrorona has released a statement saying that while they will continue to build Mars over the next several centuries, they will be able to begin production within the next year.
Rebuilding efforts continue throughout the galaxy. While significant progress has been made on Earth and Palaven, Thessia was widely devastated by the Dark Mechanicum, and the Asari Republics struggle to rebuild. The Citadel Council has pushed forward relief efforts, but they have been met with opposition from the human and Turian Councilors, who stated that since the Asari did not help their nations during the war, they will not be helping them now. Controversy continues.
And now we hear from Matriarch Aethyta, current leader of the Asari Republics, on her opinion…"
oOo
John Shepard did not like to wear his full dress uniform. In the past he had certainly been proud of it and wore the blue of the Alliance proudly. But now… well, he didn't like it and most certainly didn't like his full dress uniform.
Other people certainly liked to see him in it. Those same people certainly liked the uniform. John did not. In fact, John intensely disliked his full dress uniform.
It was not because he wasn't proud of it; proud of his accomplishments, proud of the Alliance, proud of his service. He was, after all, Commander Shepard, the legendary savior of the galaxy. (There were a few others with that title as well, but the people of this galaxy liked their hometown hero.) It also wasn't because he had a falling out with the military or the Alliance, or because he was dishonorably discharged. Indeed, it wasn't necessarily because he didn't want people to see him in his full dress uniform, it was just…
So much. Too much.
Standing here in front of countless dozens, if not hundreds, he felt ridiculous. Some of the Imperial generals and admirals might have liked this style, liked this many medals, but he did not.
However, this situation called for it. He was, he supposed, wearing the uniform equally because the present event called for it and because Tali had convinced and cajoled him into it. John worked to suppress a smile. Even though he may not like wearing his full dress uniform, Tali certainly liked seeing him in it. He would do it for her, if not for anyone else.
At the present moment, John was standing in the huge, wood-paneled, court-like main chamber that housed the Imperial Oligarchy, rulers of Segmentum Galactica Secundum. Golden sunlight, tinged a strange tone by the swirling gasses of this planet, shone through large gothic-style windows to his left. John suppressed an urge to look out them at the wondrous swirling cloud formations of the planet. He had to admit: the Imperium certainly picked their capital in this galaxy well.
This planet was named Summus Potestas by the Imperials. It was a gas giant located in the Pangaea Expanse, the same area Ilos and the last remnants of the Prothean Empire was. Quite the convenient location, both close to the galactic center and with only the lost Mu Relay to lead into it, the Pangaea expanse was now the seat of Imperial power in the galaxy. Summus Potestas was the Segmentum Fortress world and capital, and also housed the Imperial Battlefleet Galactica high above its swirling gasses.
The seat of the Imperial council was in a floating hive spire. Housed in the beautiful sky of Summus Potestas and protected by the naval vessels high above, it was a place of both great beauty and a sign of the power of the Imperium.
The room itself was built in a manner similar to a courtroom. John was actually surprised that the Imperium managed to make the internal architecture of their floating station tasteful. It was not the brutal and dark gothic style of many of their starship interiors. Instead, everything was made of beautiful and intricate deep brown wood that wonderfully reflected the orange-gold sunlight constantly streaming through the windows. Some rooms in the structure were incredibly carved and ornate, but the main chamber, and the utterly massive halls leading to them, were simply and elegantly designed.
The main chamber itself held an extremely large and high podium area where the Imperial councilors sat. An utterly massive golden aquila hung behind them; apart from that, there was no decoration. The only lighting in the room came from the floor-to-ceiling windows along the right wall. The left was dark and paneled with cherry-colored wood, but the windows leading out into the sky of the gas giant were certainly lighting enough.
The podium held a speaker's lectern to the side. Stairs led up to it so chosen individuals to the side and in the front of the room might speak to either the room itself or the councilors. In front of the council were rows upon rows of wooden benches. All were currently occupied.
Commander John Shepard of the Systems Alliance stood directly in front of the council podium beside two other soldiers. They stood neatly at parade rest, hands behind their backs as the councilors got seated and the crowd behind them murmured and muttered. Tali was back there somewhere, and John willed himself not to look back for her reassuring glance.
John still felt ridiculous in the uniform. He was fine with his regular Alliance blues or his more casual N7 wear… but the full dress uniform was just too much.
Medals went from one end of his chest to the other, piled on top of one another and vying for non-existent space. They trailed down his abdomen, completely covering the blue fabric there. Shepard felt utterly absurd. Despite the fact that he earned each and every one of those medals, in his mind he looked more like a tin-pot dictator or general from the mid-twentieth century than a war hero.
Around his throat was the Star of Terra (Systems Alliance) he earned from his actions during the Skyllian Blitz. He remembered that day, the terror of it almost nothing compared to the utter horrors he faced during the Reaper War. He also remembered the medal ceremony afterwards, and how proud both he and his mother were after receiving the Alliance's highest award.
On his upper right breast, at his collarbone and nearly shoulder height, were two more Stars of Terra. One was an image of planet earth within a silver and gold star, the ribbon holding it in place bearing the symbol of the Systems Alliance. The other was a simple five-pointed star of solid gold with a golden aquila clutching dual lightning bolts in its talons mounted beneath. One Alliance, one Imperial. Shepard found it bizarre and incredibly amusing that two separate governments from two separate realities, ones that were incredibly different in policy and design, had the same name for their highest military award.
Both Stars of Terra had been awarded to him by both separate governments for all the work he did in the Reaper War. Ultimately, despite feeling like he looked ridiculous, he was certainly proud of his accomplishments.
Beneath the Stars was a winged medal that bore the golden face of an angelic youth, laurel leaves arrayed across his brow. Intricate scrollwork was mounted along the sides and beneath the medal, and bore the strange and ominous inscription: "Amid the weeping and the woe, accursed daemon remain and rot, I know thee filthy as thou art, I know." Shepard did not particularly care for the design or words; they always unnerved him when he looked at them. Yet, the Order of Ollanius Pius was the highest Imperial award besides the Star of Terra to be granted to mortal men. The High Lords of Terra themselves confirmed his reception of both the Star and the Order medals, and they had been given to him a few months ago in this very room.
Beneath those were the various high awards of the Citadel and various alien governments. The Citadel Shield, with its silver five prongs designed to invoke the space station itself rested resplendently next to two Palladium Stars. A special, one-of-a-kind Quarian award known as the Savior of Rannoch rested next to the Order of Tikkun. Both had been given to him after the Dawn War.
The awards of his wife's people jostled for position with the Turian medals: the Hero of the Hierarchy clanked beside the Defender of Palven and Knight of the Order of Atrin Impera. Though he did not fight long on Palaven, the Turians were extraordinarily grateful for everything he did in the war. He had saved Garrus and Primarch Fedorian from certain death after all.
The highest awards of five separate governmental bodies took up the majority of his upper chest. The rest… the rest continued down his entire torso.
'Minor' awards were next, awards that would be impressive at any other time but simply looked like ornamentation on him. Distinguished Service Crosses (three of them) were packed side-by-side with Distinguished Service Medals, his N7 award, Silver and Bronze Stars, Alliance Medals, Medals of Heroic Exemplars, Grissom Medals, Wound Badges, and a Grand Cross of the Order of the Alliance.
Lesser alien awards, the Galactic Unit Citadel of the Citadel for the crew of the Normandy, the Silver Dagger of the Salarians, the Nova Cluster of the Turians, and other assorted honors snaked their way down Shepard's chest and into his abdomen where they met all the countless smaller awards he'd earned. His abdomen held the countless Reaper War medals beside his Skyllian Blitz service award. Countless campaign medals mixed with Imperial honors and orders beside badges of recognition for all of the countless wounds he received on endless battlefields over his long military career.
The endless parade of metallic glory ended near his waist with good conduct, training and other standard awards one usually picked up in their tenure as a soldier.
However, perhaps most importantly of all, on Shepard's right collarbone, directly across from the Stars of Terra, rested a Blood Angels purity seal given from the armor of the Lord of the Host.
He felt stupid with so much decoration on him. It was like he was a living museum, or some strange walking award case. At this point, if one were to direct a semi-powerful magnet his way, he'd probably fall over.
But, ultimately, all of this was necessary for his purpose here today. He looked to his left and right, seeing his two companions to either side. At least he was assured that he was not alone with the sheer amount of bling he brought to the table.
To his right was Cassandra Sherman. He only got to know her after the war, when the present situation began to manifest itself. She too was an N7; one of the few left after the Reaper War. Much like himself, her uniform was a mess of medals.
Two Stars of Terra, both Alliance. The plethora of other distinguished Alliance medals Shepard had wove their way down her chest. Imperial, Citadel, and a few Quarian and Turian awards provided some measure of respite from the human dominance on her uniform. While she was not near the level of Shepard, with her own parade of medals actually ending on her chest, it was still an impressive and near-breathtaking display of military valor.
To Shepard's left was Darius Cryde. Unlike his two companions, he was an Imperial: a Sergeant Major of the Cadian Shock Troops. He was nearing Shepard's level in numbers, simply because he was of Cadian blood- he had fought in the Emperor's name all his life. But still, his front was impressive.
Three Stars of Terra, one Alliance and two Imperial adorned his neck and upper left chest. Two, the second Imperial and the Alliance medal, were awarded for extreme gallantry during the Reaper War for Cryde's actions on Earth. What was perhaps even more impressive was the first Star of Terra had come from before; when he had been fighting in his own galaxy before realities collided.
Two more Orders of Ollanius Pius came next, with their disconcerting messages. Again, one had been awarded for the battle on Earth, and one for some unknown action beforehand. While both John and Cassandra had asked, Darius remained mute. Both N7's were soldiers, and they understood. Some things were not to be spoken of, ever.
Cryde also had three Honorifica Imperialis medals presented by Cadia, alongside the Merit of Terra. All these were Imperial awards for selflessness and valor. The latter meant Cryde had at one point in the past voluntarily postponed his own demobilization. Again, he would not say when or where, but John knew that this was an award recognized even among the Astartes for respect and self-sacrifice.
The last, and perhaps most important, was a single award both John and Cassandra could never get: the Ward of Cadia, Cadia's highest planetary military medal. Considering what Cadia was and what it represented to the Imperium, this was an extremely high honor. Indeed, Darius's full title was actually "Warden of Cadia", though, much like before, he remained silent upon why he was given this boon.
John's mind snapped out of his musings and the discomfort of being in a coat practically made of metal as the various Imperial councilors settled in their seats. A strange heavy weight took hold over him, and he resisted the urge to swallow. Instead, he simply stared straight ahead, chest and jaw held out. Behind him, the murmurings continued.
The reason he was here, the reason everyone, including his two companions and those in the audience were here was because, over the last few months, an issue had risen within this new galaxy they all found themselves in. It was an issue that Shepard had once deeply hoped no one would address nor have to address, but somehow, in his heart of hearts, he always knew he would find himself here. The Imperium of Man was, after all, built upon a hatred of aliens.
As the galaxy started to rebuild itself, and as the Imperium started to build its own influence within it, the question of xenophilia had come to the forefront of discussion. The previous servants of His Divine Majesty, those that had come to fight the Reapers and Dark Mechanicum, were military and strictly understood what must happen: they had to fight with aliens to win the war. Indeed, their only concern was the fight; was to beat the traitors. They simply would not and could not spend the energy to care about xenophilia. If some human somewhere was banging an alien, it hardly mattered to them. Why would it, when Kelbor-Hal had taken Earth? Why would it, when the fate of the galaxy was at stake?
Yet now those military men were replaced by the labyrinthine bureaucracy, governance, and settlements of the Imperium. The armies were disbanded, and soldiers went on their way in the months following the end of the war even as clergymen, Administratum members, and the countless personnel that made Imperial governance Imperial governance began to set up shop.
Of course, as they were new, as they did care, and as they had not spent months of hellish existence fighting alongside aliens, they took one good look at the state of xenophiliac relationships in this reality and immediately declared it had to end. Which, of course, led to the present situation.
Members of the Imperial government, led by the Cult clergymen, Administratum adepts, and other members of the newcome Imperial faithful had realized that inter-species relationships existed… and promptly made a move to make xenophilia illegal. While they technically could not influence Citadel space under the Treaty of the Citadel, in practice if they decided to wage a war against all xenophiliacs, then those who were with other species would be hunted down and probably obliterated.
It represented a huge difference and sudden new disagreement between the Imperium and Citadel races. When this new missive within the Imperial law of this galaxy came out, there was an immediate outcry. Xenophilia had been a part of the Citadel since the founding of the Citadel. The Asari, who preferred alien genes to pass on to future generations, had started a culture of inter-species relationships, and every new-coming race to the Citadel ever since had picked it up. While there certainly were parts and groups that argued against it (and those arguments continued even now), and while among some species it wasn't all that widespread, it was a part of Citadel culture nevertheless.
The Reaper War had only increased the number of inter-species relationships throughout the galaxy. People of all species found that aliens were not all that different. As war was wont to do, it also provided a sudden case of haste to many: if they were going to love, if they were going to do anything at all, they had to do it now, before they died. The war also brought along a new perspective: that differences and cultural taboos now meant little. What mattered was the person in front of you, and if you wanted them you had to give it your all and never let go.
The two factions of Imperial (and some human and Turian) xenophobic hardliners had clashed with the xenophiliacs. However, rumors swirled that the Imperials would still outlaw xenophilia, uncaring of anything but loyalty to their creed. This was why Shepard and so many others were here this day.
John found it alarming that he and Tali could suddenly be split up, locked up, outlawed or killed. After all they had done, all they had sacrificed, all the years they had been together, suddenly they could be torn apart by someone whom they did not know and who did not know them? But it was all real. This was happening, whether they wanted it or not.
It was then that the Shepards were approached by an N7 by the name of Cassandra Sherman. She told both Tali and John that she had heard of them; heard of who and what they were.
Both John and Tali were surprised to hear that she thought of them as an inspiration. She too had fallen in love with a Quarian, and her future with him was now in terrible jeopardy. So she presented John and Tali with her plan.
That plan was to confront the Imperial council and convince them to leave them be in peace. This convincing would not be through morality, nor through arguments, but through the sheer number of those who were xenophiliacs… and the representation of all they had done and served.
The Imperium of Man was, after all, a militaristic empire. They respected valor, honor, and military service above all else. So why not have everyone they knew, everyone who had served that was in a relationship with an alien or simply agreed with them, show up in full military uniform and attempt to convince the council to simply leave things be?
John had to admit that it was a very good idea. Both he and Tali readily agreed. Both they and Cassandra started to put out messages to everyone they knew in the military that had settled with an alien. What they did not suspect was getting support from the strangest of places.
Admiral Hannah Shepard of the Alliance Navy and Governor Rael'Zorah of Rannoch threw their support behind this missive. While Rael was soon to give up his governorship to be married to her, both of them were still greatly respected and their words carried heavy weight. They could not attend this meeting, unfortunately, but their public support remained nevertheless.
Garrus, even though he himself was married to another Turian, was in the same position. While he had retired from his position after the Reaper War, he still gave his full support to Tali, John, and Cassandra. He was quite busy with a newborn daughter though, and couldn't do much besides throw in his word and weight.
What was the most surprising, the most jaw-dropping, utterly shocking surprising, was the Imperial response.
Fabricator General Natrius was furiously debating his colleagues, trying to shift them to his pro-xenophila stance. Upset and angry they would do such a thing, especially since many of those on his forge under his protection (including his protege Zore'Reer) would fall under the category of xenophilia, he decided to unabashedly throw his weight behind the Shepards' mission.
However, most surprisingly of all were the individual Imperials who decided to join in.
John, Tali, and Cassandra had been shocked when a member of the Minervan Tank Legions came to them one morning and declared that she wanted to join in. Apparently, he had fallen (hard, John could tell) for a Turian boy and did not want her newfound life and freedom taken from him.
They were even more shocked when more Imperial soldiers started to join the movement.
Out of all the millions upon millions of Imperials new to this galaxy, it was a small overall percentage that were xenophiliacs. Imperial culture ran deep, and besides, apart from the Asari, most people of most species were attracted to people of their own species. It was only natural. Yet John still could not get over the sheer number of Imperials who decided to join them. It was far more than he imagined, and that wasn't even counting those Imperials who did not want to publicly declare themselves as with an alien for fear of rebuke by their own culture or for fear that the council might outlaw them. The wrath of the Inquisition against heretics was well-known and utterly terrifying.
Yet still it was baffling to John. How? Why? He certainly had nothing against it; he was with a Quarian after all. But he simply did not understand how the Imperials, raised so long in a culture of xenophobia, could actually be attracted to aliens.
His question remained unanswered until he met a Turian woman who was engaged to an ex-Steel Legionnaire. While her fiance was apprehensive of joining Cassandra and the Shepards' movement, she came to decidedly throw her whole-hearted support behind it. It was then, at Cassandra's Citadel apartment, that John found the answer to his question.
The topic had come up when discussing the Imperium at large, and the Turian, one Voltana Cavius, had finally put the pieces of the puzzle together.
The Imperials lived in an extremely harsh place. Though John logically knew this, though he served with Imperials before, it seemed he did not know the full extent of how things worked there. Indeed, Voltana said none of them did; not even she.
Her fiance came from a slum in a pollution-choked city on a pollution-choked planet that made the worst city slums on Earth look like paradise. Growing up had been brutal, his life not his own, and when he joined the Guard that life was replaced by a hellish military service fighting an eternal war against monsters just as bad as what they had faced in the Reaper War. Voltana had actually choked up at this point, saddened and hurt by what her fiance had been through, and it was at that moment that John realized how deeply she loved him, and got the answer to his question.
He was with her, he loved her, because she loved him. That was it. It was that simple, and yet that complicated. All you really had to do to get an Imperial was genuinely, deeply, love and care for them because they had never experienced that before. Suddenly an Imperial, who grew up in the hive slums or was trained from birth as a soldier to fight the most brutal wars imaginable was treated with genuine attachment and kindness. By an alien. Therefore, they went with that alien. It was that simple, that wonderful, and that sad all at the same time.
Of course, there were also a few more facts in play. Nearly every xenophiliac Imperial Shepard met was with a Turian or Quarian. Shepard, considering his own friends and own taste, found that incredibly amusing. It was even more amusing when one considered most inter-species relationships before the war with an Asari with someone. Not so for the Imperials.
They actually were off-put by the Asari. To them, fairly or not, the Asari represented everything they disliked about aliens: promiscuous, gene-stealing, slightly haughty, focused on democracy, peace, tolerance, and other non-Imperial ideals, and with both ancient lifespans and an uncanny valley-like appearance that was close yet very far to the human form. Simply the fact that the Asari could have children with other species yet all those born would be Asari was enough for the Imperials; the rest was just icing on the cake.
But Quarians were similar and attractive enough to humans without being uncanny. This, plus their very close ties and acceptance by the Mechanicus led to many Imperials deciding why not? There was a good reason why most species found Quarians attractive.
As for the Turians, they were actually quite close to Imperials culturally. (Of course, they were toned down a few thousand notches, but still, the ideals remained similar.) Honor and military service were paramount. They thought similarly to the Imperials; solved problems the same way. While they might have been completely different in look, the fact that they thought, acted, and were otherwise very similar in personality was enough for many Imperials.
That, combined with their silky-smooth voices that John knew for a fact had swayed more than one human.
And so John, Tali, and Cassandra had marshaled their combined forces. Propaganda wars were waged over the span of a few months, people were prepared, stories were told, newcomers were spoken to, and plans were made.
It was one of the latter people who came onboard that was perhaps the most interesting, and led to the current situation of Shepard standing in the middle of two highly-decorated war veterans.
One night, at Cassandra's Citadel apartment that had become the de-facto headquarters of this operation, a Cadian Master Sergeant, in his green fatigues, had shown up at the door. Guests were unsurprising at this point, and he was swiftly let in.
The man's name was Darius Cryde. He said very little. He only gave his introductions and resume of military honors. Cassandra and the Shepards had been shocked and impressed. Beyond that, Cryde only said he was in the same position as them and asked to speak at the meeting that would be held on one condition: he would speak last.
They had consulted, and ultimately decided yes. Cryde had thanked them, and left with the promise he would be there. Beyond that, they knew nothing, not even the story of who he was or was with. He seemed to be a very private man.
So John Shepard now found himself standing before the Imperial council, flanked by Cassandra and Darius, with every single seat in the large chamber behind him packed with people wearing their old war uniforms. There were Hierarchy Navy, Hierarchy Army, Quarian Marine, Quarian Navy, Alliance Marines, and Alliance Navy uniforms mixed together with the resplendent blue of Mordian, the green fatigues of Cadia, the khaki of the Harakoni, and the brown and white coats of Armageddon and Minverva. There were also a few, a very few Drell, Asari, and one singular Salarian uniform. It made John smile when he looked back, though of the few Asari present, none were with Imperials.
"In the name of His Divine Majesty, the God-Emperor of Mankind, and by the grace of the Golden Throne I hereby call this meeting to order," came the voice of the council speaker, booming powerfully through the room. She was a Marshal of the Arbites, the Imperial regular police, and chosen as speaker of this meeting because she had no real say one way or the other. Her office upheld Imperial law, whatever it may be; it did not dictate it.
Beside her was Inquisitor Vell of the Ordo Xenos, wearing an amused look behind her black hood. She was joined by a frowning Administratum representative and an Ecclesiarchy priest wearing a thunderous frown on his face. The familiar and quite welcome face of Fabricator General Natrius represented the Mechanicus. A Naval Admiral and Guard General sat to either side of Natrius, both looking down at the various people below with unreadable expressions. The last councilor was a blindfolded and very bored-looking astropath representing the Adeptus Astra Telepathica.
"I thank you, Marshal," replied Shepard with a respectful incline of his head. He'd found that the correct way to address the Oligarchy members was not by "councilor", but by their respective office titles. The Marshal curtly nodded, and wordlessly motioned John forward to the speaker's podium.
Looking out on everyone, on all the countless uniforms proving their devotion and the sacrifices they'd given, on all the faces staring up at him in hope, on Tali silently encouraging him, he gave a small smile and began.
He spoke of who he was, of what had happened to him, of what he had been and what he had done. He told the story from the beginning, of being born on an Alliance Navy ship, of being raised by the Alliance, with the Alliance, always wanting and willing to serve in the military.
He told of the Skyllian Blitz, of the Batarians that committed unspeakable atrocities against the human populace there. He told of what he had done, how he had been honored, and what the opinions of everything were at the time. John continued with his N7 career, of his training, his discipline and dedication, eventually reaching command of the Normandy and a Spectre authorization from the Citadel Council. He talked about the hunt for Saren, of getting his new crew of eclectic misfits, and of meeting the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the galaxy, who just so happened to be a Quarian.
He talked about his nervousness, his feeling that she wouldn't want him, of all of his feelings and thoughts at the time.
Then he got to his death. The destruction of the Normandy. The pain. The misery. Of everything he did, of everything he gave to the galaxy.
There was his miraculous resurrection at the hands of Miranda and Cerberus, the new Normandy, and his return. His meeting with the Council, and how they spurned him and claimed there were no Reapers. (This caused a lot of murmurings among both the audience and the Imperial Oligarchy; Shepard couldn't help but the satisfied feeling of serves you right, Councilors, creep up on him.)
The Dawn War was after. Meeting the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Migrant Fleet, and reuniting with Tali once more. The missions they had completed there, the pain he felt when he tried to internally push himself away from her, and finally, finally getting to be with her. Of course, he had to take down a Reaper and take back a homeworld to do so, but he did it. He finished it, and while he would not use such a word, he earned it.
He spent two peaceful, blissful, happy years together with her as they traveled the galaxy and put out small fires along the way. Of course, he knew such things would not last. The Reapers were coming.
He talked of the first contact with the Reapers, above the Batarian world of Erszbat. He was with Natrius there too. There was the pain, the fear, the battle of losing Earth. Then came the war, the war he fought, the war he bled and nearly died for, and the rest, as they say, was history.
As John finished his story, every ear in the room was listening intently. He smiled to himself; that was exactly what he wanted.
He finished with a simple message. Standing there, with medals covering his entire torso, with an arm gone, lost in the Dawn War and replaced by Archmagos Cawl, with all he had done, as the only one who tried to convince the galaxy the Reapers were real, encompassing all the fights, all the pain, one death, three near-deaths, and a hero with three Stars of Terra and a purity seal from the Lord of the Angels, he had done it all. He sacrificed nearly everything. He had nothing left to prove to anyone. He had sacrificed, Tali had sacrificed everything, and they were heroes. They were good friends with the Imperium, had fought for the Imperium and the galaxy itself, and they would not let anyone separate them.
(Ultimately, if all else failed, the Shepards would message Lord Dante. John had a feeling he would come back in person and put the entirety of the council to shame, but they didn't want to resort to that if they didn't have to.)
Next came Cassandra. She told of her days as an N7, of her training, her own honor and military background. (Everyone had to keep emphasizing those traits; it would resonate with the Imperials.) She told of everything she did through her career, her loyalty to humanity, and all the battles she fought in defense of Earth. Afterwards, she told of a combined-arms program she joined; a unity between the Quarian Republics and the Adas forge alongside the Alliance. It was there, through this meeting of staunch Imperial allies, that she met a Quarian man and fell for him. She had fought, she had bled, and both she and her intended were loyal to humanity, the alliance between them and the Quarians, and to the Mechanicus and Imperium.
The speeches were met with applause from the audience, and silent interest from the council. John could not tell their opinions either way.
However, the last speech, Darius's speech, remained. It was with great interest that John watched the quiet, perhaps unassuming Cadian, with his black hair, scarred face, and violet eyes take the podium. He had no idea what Darius was going to say; he had no idea what the Cadian's role in all of… this was.
With a faint rustling of notes, Cryde's violet eyes looked out on the audience before them, sweeping each and every person with the solid, unemotional glare that only a master non-com could muster. The gaze was turned on the Oligarchy, then back to the audience once more as the man began.
"I am going to say what I have to say. I am going to say something that most of you, regardless of who you are, are not going to like." He turned and faced the Imperial council. "Many of you are now thinking I am a heretic. Many of you sneer and gnash your teeth in disgust. Some may even want me dead. You may question how this came to be; how this could ever happen, how a Cadian, of all people, a Hero of the Imperium and Warden of Cadia is here, now speaking, and I shall answer. It's quite simple, in fact. Human nature."
A few mutterings. The audience, with all of its Imperial soldiers and countless Turians who all admired war heroes, looked at Cryde's chest of medals and hard face in awe and approval. The council was more wary; how indeed had he come to such a place?
"Human nature is what drives us. It is what we are, what we can be. It is something that is not to be hated or shunned, for these are the teachings of the God-Emperor Himself. The Emperor teaches us to be human, and that is why the Imperial Cult can be the only true religion. To be human is to be divine. Our emotions, our strengths, and even our weaknesses are to be divine. And that, my brothers and sisters, is why humanity has conquered the galaxy. That is why we have not only survived, but thrived in two separate realities."
A pause. The Imperials, even the xenophiliacs, nodded in proud approval. They might have loved aliens, but they were proud of what they were. If their partners disapproved of this Imperial pride, they wouldn't be here in the first palace.
"However, what many of the Cult forget is that it is not rage or hate or wrath or pride that conquered the stars and keeps our Imperium alive, but rather love. Love is what we fight for: love for species, for duty, for government, for planet and Throne is what we fight for. Love is what keeps the Emperor atop the Golden Throne: love for his people so great He is able to endure ten millennia of torment to keep the Dark Gods at bay. Love is by far the most powerful of human emotions. Therefore, it is nothing less than heresy to disavow the ideal of love to those that have fought against Darkness and are loyal to the servants of the Golden Throne."
The Ecchlisiarch flushed as Cryde's unemotional yet weighing gaze turned his way. The audience was dead silent. Cassandra and John stood silently by. They had not been expecting this.
"It should be known. I love an alien. I love an alien." Cryde's gaze swept the room once more, as if daring anyone to speak out, to disagree. Nothing was forthcoming. "I have committed what is professed to be perhaps the greatest sin, one that would lead to all of our destructions… and for good reason. For the xenos of our galaxies are perfidious and treacherous all, civilizations who would crush, kill, or betray us in a heartbeat. But ultimately, there are two points to be said for this: the first is that there is a far greater sin, and the second is that this reality is just that- a different reality. The laws we held constant are not true here. The xenos have proven," his hand swept to all the aliens in attendance, as if showing them off to the council, "Have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt they are loyal. They are trustworthy. They can and will and have fought and died with us."
One could hear a pin drop in the room, so silent it was. John almost didn't dare breathe. Cryde continued.
"And so, is it such a bad thing, this love? Is it such a bad thing, to be human? Is it such a bad thing, to uphold the highest of ideals within all of our civilizations?" He turned back to the Oligarchy, addressing them. "I have fought for Cadia and the Imperium. I have done and bled more than you ever have. We, all of us," his hand swept out, gesturing to the Imperial soldiers in the audience, "Have found peace here. We uphold the honor of the Imperium, the ideals of the Imperium, and so do those we love. We would not be with them otherwise. And so it is unjust to take this. The Emperor has commanded that we get along with the xenos of this reality, and we have found they love us, and fight with us."
Several of the councilors seethed. Darius met their gazes, unbowed. They looked away first.
However, he then turned to the crowd once more.
"That is not, however, to say that I like what you have done. Again, you may not like what I have to say, but I shall say it because it needs to be said." His gaze bored holes into everyone present. The audience members, each in turn, fidgeted beneath his incendiary glare. "I do not like the xenophilia of this galaxy. In fact, I despise the xenophilia of this galaxy. I despise your degeneracy, your lack of honor, lack of chastity, lack of discipline. I hate your perverse and degenerate obsession with sex and all things lewd. I hate your culture, I hate your clubs, I hate your art and your attitude towards the nature of this topic. I hate, your strippers, your pornographic magazines, your complete and utter debauchery. I hate it. I hate it all… and it should be hated. It is not right. It is not good. And your pathetic pretendence that constant stimulation, instant gratification, and endless cycles of hedonism is good, is moral, is not true and is not something to be admired. It is not something that I wish for. It is something that I have fought, time and time again. I have seen what happens when one gives themselves up to these things. I have fought the Dark Prince, time and time again. It is against the servants of Pleasure that I got these medals… and these scars." He gestured to the Ward of Cadia, the Order of Pius and the first Star of Terra, then to the markings slashing across his chin and neck.
John winced. The words hit hard. While John did not partake in such things and had no wish to, he'd been to the Citadel, to Illum, to Omega before. He'd seen this galaxy. He'd seen Asari culture. These were harsh words, but still legitimate criticisms.
Then, of course, were the scars. John still did not know the story, still did not fully comprehend Darius's words, but he got the feeling Cryde earned them fighting some sort of utterly evil hedonistic cult in his home reality. It seemed there was good reason for his feelings on the topic.
John was snapped out of his thoughts as Darius continued.
"So, ultimately, what do I wish? I am no Dark cultist. I do not wish to be caught up in pleasure or excess, to something different and perverse yet pleasurable for the sake of it. I do not wish to have some well-endowed xeno flash and grind against me while pulsing music plays." His face contorted in an expression of disgust and hate at the idea. He turned his iron glare upon the Citadel citizens present, eyes burning. "I do not want your disgusting pursuit of hedonism and pleasure; and, likewise, I do not want your," that same gaze flipped upon the members of the Imperial council, as if daring them to disagree with a Hero of the Imperium and Warden of Cadia, "Control and stifling pervasiveness of what I can and cannot do. I have served. I have sacrificed. I will gladly do it all over again, but for my species and at the call of the Golden Throne: not for you and your petty politics and personal gain."
Darius looked around, eyes sweeping everyone present. It was only because John was looking so carefully at his face that he saw the tiny, almost imperceptible softening of his expression.
"Instead, I want to be with my love. I want to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to watch her sleep by my side. I want to be with her, I want to protect her, I want to comfort her, I want to love her." Darius's expression went back to thoughtful, regal, and calm. He swept up his right hand in an oratory gesture. The room seemed to hold its collective breath at what he would say next. This was the crux of the matter. "And so, ultimately, I shall uphold the tenets of the Imperium and faithfully serve the Golden Throne and my species. I shall fight the Prince of Pleasure and the minions of Darkness wherever they may be found. I shall uphold the honor, dignity, duty, and love of an Imperial solider. I shall love the Emperor. I shall obey the law of the Lex. But I shall recognize that the Emperor gave us human emotions for a reason. I shall recognize the xenos of this galaxy are different- and the Emperor led us to this galaxy and victory over the Traitors for a reason. I shall give my love all the love I have: in sickness and in health, in body and in soul, in heart and mind, forever and for always, 'till death and beyond."
A pause. Shepard didn't dare breathe. Cryde looked at every person present, holding eye contact one after another.
"And I shall fight to the death against anyone who wishes to harm her. All this I swear… by Cadian blood."
The room erupted. Suddenly everyone was talking, shouting, at once. John's jaw dropped.
While there was no similarity in the Alliance (or indeed, any civilization of this galaxy), thanks to Kevral, he still knew the meaning behind an oath by Cadian blood. It was sacrosanct. It was unbreakable. This was the highest oath of a people who fought and died defending their empire against the literal demons of hell for ten thousand years. No Cadian would ever, ever break that oath, for any reason whatsoever. And this was why Darius wanted to go last.
He was saying that he did uphold Imperial ideals, Cadian ideals, and he would be with this alien, whoever it was. Anyone who opposed this decision was in opposition to him, and he would fight them…
By Cadian blood.
Who knew a sergeant could be more verbose than most politicians? Actually, scratch that. Some of the most verbose people Shepard knew were non-coms and some of the least were politicians.
In the audience, the Imperial soldiers were now all standing, hurling their own oaths of great import to the Oligarchy and the galaxy at large. Oaths against the Dark Prince, oaths for the love of the Golden Throne, oaths that they would be with their loves, oaths by the honor of Mordian, Minerva, and Harakoni; by the defiance of Armageddon, and, of course, by Cadian blood.
Most of the Alliance humans and other Citadel races were simply standing, confused, or shocked that their Imperial partners would show such defiance for them. As a warrior culture, the Turians seemed to get the picture more quickly than others and began to throw in their own vows. The chamber descended into bedlam.
"Order!" The Marshal banged her gavel against the table. "Order!" she cried again. "Sit down! Return to your seats! Order!" Eventually, slowly, the noise died down. People went back to their seats. The Quarians and few Drell were looking at their Imperial partners in awe. The Turian/Imperial couples were grinning at each others, flushed with the adrenaline and wonder of fighting back-to-back with someone you loved. Somewhere along the way, Master Sergeant Cryde had stepped down from the podium. John didn't even see him come down.
"The committee will discuss this. Until then, this chamber is considered in recess," announced Inquisitor Vell. With that, the Oligarchy members disappeared from their seats and went into the back room.
oOo
It seemed like an eternity of waiting; agonizing, painful waiting.
John, Darius, and Cassandra stood stock-still in the front of the room before the empty council bench. Behind them, the only noises were quiet and subdued yet terse murmurings. It was intolerable.
What would happen? John had no idea. He knew Natrius was on the council, and that the Lord of Adas would be arguing their case. That, combined with all the Imperials in full military uniform might be able to sway people… but one never knew. It was more luck and personal opinion of a few people than anything else.
He hazarded a glance backwards, and caught Tali's eyes glowing behind her face plate. It was reassuring, he knew, and though he gave a small, terse smile back in response, his mind still whirred.
What would happen? Would the councilors order them all dead? They could. They could end this right here and right now. This was the seat of Imperial power. Inquisitor Vell could have the doors close, the Stormtroopers come in, and gun down every single person here. Would it come to that? Would he and Tali be separated from each other? What would happen? The question continued to beat through his mind, making him nearly sick with worry even though he did not show any of it outwardly.
What would happen?
The councilors came out after a period of debate. John and the others, still in their resplendent dress uniforms, watched them come. He had to admit, he was rather nervous. It seemed to all come down to this. Would their display, would the uniforms and proof of their loyalty, their service, and all their words be enough? He didn't know.
A hushed and expectant silence fell over the crowd as the Oligarchy members took their seats. John looked up at Vell and Natrius. Their expressions were unreadable. The Marshal began to speak.
The ruling was inconclusive… which was probably the best result. As Imperial bureaucracy would be, the Oligarchy could not make up their minds (or, at least, the xenophobes had complained enough to force an internal compromise). What would happen was simple: this debate would be passed back to the Imperial home galaxy for further review. It would most likely spend the next millenia (or two, or five) being passed around through various channels and debated by Imperial scholars, theologists, and judges.
However, the most important part was that, until then, everything would remain as it was. In essence, the Oligarchy had reached a compromise: this would go through official channels back home, but until then, xenophilia would remain legal and as-is.
A huge cheer swept the room. People grabbed each other in huge hugs of joy. Some outright kissed each other, full swung-back, bent-over, minutes-long style. John grinned at Cassandra, who smiled back.
Suddenly they were surrounded. Tali beamed up at him from behind the mask of her enviro-suit. He wished he could kiss her now, but that would have to wait.
There were now dozens upon dozens of people around them, slapping him on the back with grins of pure joy and exhilaration. Well-wishers for him, Cassandra, and Tali surrounded them, grinning and celebrating that they had won. The power and luck of Commander Shepard had carried through, and they had won once again.
Through all the cheering, all the throngs of people now celebrating in the middle of the chamber and surrounding both him and Tali, John looked out over them all. He smiled. It was good to see this; good to see everyone so happy, good to see that their galaxy would remain as was, good to see that the Imperial council would not overrule them and they could finally have their well-fought-for peace.
It was as John was looking out over the crowd that he noticed something very interesting. The noise of the crowd, the pats on his back, his wife by his side seemed to fade as John looked over the crowd and to the back of the room.
At the back of the room, near the entrance of two huge, open double doors leading into the ornate halls beyond, stood Cryde. It seemed he had slipped back there without anyone noticing; beyond the celebrating crowds to where he would not be bothered. Though a few people seemed to walk or talk near the entrance of the room, they were farther to the sides. Cryde was all alone save one individual.
In front of him was a Turian. Her uniform was that of a Hierarchy private, and bore no medals beyond a few tiny graduation and campaign awards. She was on the short side for a Turian, her carapace brown and face dotted with flecks of silver. There were no clan markings on her face. Shepard was not a judge of Turian beauty by any means, but from what he did know from Garrus and his other Turian friends, this Turian would probably be considered plain and on the unattractive side. The fact she was a bareface certainly didn't help.
Yet Cryde stood in front of her, the two of them completely alone and oblivious to anything going on. John was certain he was the only one to see Cryde take both her hands in his. John understood as he gave her that look.
It was a look he knew well. A look he gave Tali whenever he saw her, a look that she gave to him whenever she stared at him. A look that made his heart soar and smile even bigger. It was a look of pure love reserved for one, and only one, special person. That look.
As Cryde gave her that look, she returned it. They stared at each other, hands held out in front of them. Cryde stepped forward and told her something; she smiled in response.
With no one watching, with everyone celebrating with their friends or significant other, with John and Tali and Cassandra and the others surrounded by well-wishers, Cryde let go of her hands and held out his left elbow, offering it to the Turian. She accepted it, linking her own arm with his. Cryde walked off with her, arm in arm, a proud smile on his face as if she were the most beautiful and renowned supermodel in the galaxy. John realized she was to him, and he smiled at that. Cryde may not have talked much, but it seems he found his peace.
As John looked down at Tali, she gave him that same look. He smiled and returned it. The two of them were alone together despite the throngs around them. They had won. They had their peace.
"Well, John?" she asked over the murmur of voices. "What do we do now?" she asked with a smile. He couldn't help but smile in return.
"I think I remember something about building a home on Rannoch," he replied, a huge, ridiculous grin on his face to match the huge, ridiculous medals on his chest. "It seems like as good as any a time to start that." Tali grinned, silvery eyes luminous behind her mask.
"Sounds like a plan," she said with a smile. "A wonderful plan."
oOo
"Inquisitor," hissed Ecclesiarch Tyrus as the Oligarchy members walked through the narrow hallways leading from the back of the main chamber to the rest of the floating fortress. Next to him, Vell turned and looked up at him sharply. "How could you let this happen?" demanded the priest. "How could you, an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos, allow this to happen? This is heresy of the highest order, one your order has sworn to exterminate!" Vell stopped in the middle of the hall and leveled her best Inquisitorial death glare at Tyrus.
"As the Master Sergeant said, the laws of this place are different," she hissed. "Ultimately, I care nothing about this matter. So long as the Tithe keeps getting paid, and the bodies stay flowing, and the Imperium keeps standing, then I care not. It is my duty to safeguard our mighty empire, and if this makes xenos more loyal, then so be it. Until treason arises from them, it is not my duty to interfere." The Ecclesiarch opened his mouth to protest, but Vell silenced it. "And I would be careful to whom you speak, Ecclesiarch. The Inquisition always demands, and never is demanded of." With that, she walked away.
The Ecclesiarch frowned. What was this galaxy that made it so different from home? What would end up happening to this place in the future? It was his duty to provide spiritual aid to this place, and he would continue to do so. He decided he would meditate on this.
oOo
Liara T'Soni gazed out upon the empty sands of Thessia. Where there had once been life, there was now simply a barren wasteland. Toppled and blackened ruins, those few that had survived the initial Reaper invasion, the battle between the Reapers and Consecrators, and then the Exterminatus lay as twisted remnants to what was once the golden homeworld of the Asari and the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. Beyond the debris dotting the landscape, there was only desert. It was a terrible, terrible testament to the power of the Dark Mechanicum, the folly of the old Asari government, and simply war itself.
It was gone. It was all gone. The homeworld of the Asari; what was once the most beautiful and influential planet in the galaxy. The place where Liara was born, the place where she grew up, the place where she studied. Gone.
Now there was only a harsh, gravelly wind blowing against her face, throwing grains of sand made from the utter oblivion that had been visited on Thessia. Liara sighed. Thessia now felt like a dead world; like one of the Prothean archeological sites she so loved to visit. She smiled scoffingly to herself. Indeed, that's exactly what it was now. Thessia was no longer a vibrant, rich, cultural planet. It was not a place of great cities and joy. It was not a homeworld, a capital, and a place of life. No. It was now an archeological site itself: a monument to the past and a place to learn of war and folly.
Liara sighed as a feeling of utter gloom and defeat washed over her. She wished there had been something she had been able to do during the war, but alas, there was no way to prevent this. Everything was out of her hands.
She had become the Shadow Broker a year or two ago, taking over from its previous Yhang incumbent after killing him. It had been unfortunate she couldn't ask Shepard for help, but he and Tali were rather busy at the time. Besides, it wasn't anything she couldn't take care of herself.
Yet the once-almighty powers of the Shadow Broker suddenly meant little in the face of the overwhelming technical expertise of the Adeptus Mechanicus. The Broker had once been the man (or woman) behind the shadows, in every corner, hiding behind every computer and wall. They were the person who could get any secret, any tiny tidbit of information, and who couldn't be traced under any circumstance.
But the Mechanicus's mastery of technology was such that Liara now could be traced. She, and the office of the Broker, was no longer invincible. If she slipped up, the Mechanicus could find her and exterminate her.
So she had to be careful. Throughout all her time, and through the war, she had to be careful not to be found. The Shadow Broker's activities had to be toned down. Yet she still tried to help wherever she could without alerting people (and especially the Imperium) to her presence.
Ultimately, as Liara looked out on the ruins of Thessia, it seemed that it hadn't been enough. Her people, and her home, were obliterated. The power of the Dark Mechanicum far outstripped her own.
The crunch of feet in gravel-like sand sounded behind her. Liara did not look back. She simply stared forward at the ruination of everything she knew to be true in this galaxy.
A hand fell upon her shoulder. This time, she glanced over to her left.
"Hey kiddo, what's got you so down?" came the concerned voice of Matriarch Aethyta. Liara gave a smile and put her hand on Aethyta's with a slight squeeze.
"It's fine," replied Liara quietly. "It's… it's just so much. Our homeworld… all gone." Aethyta gave a reassuring smile.
"Well, that's what we're here for. You and me. Rebuild this all, and make the Asari something that we never were; something better," she replied.
Liara was an archeologist after all. This was her domain; what she wanted. Though being the Shadow Broker was nice, it was not what she wanted forever. The Broker was being phased out by the power of the Mechanicus and Imperium anyway. Here, she could use her old skills to help rebuild the new future of the Asari.
"I'm not sure we could," admitted Liara quietly. Next to her, her father scoffed. Liara had found Aethyta was her father (as the Asari termed it) a while back. It had certainly been interesting to learn that Aethyta was her father, and that she was working as a bartender in Illium. The two had talked for a bit while Liara was the Shadow Broker; Liara had learned more of her past, and more about Benezia.
It was a shock to both of them that Aethyta had been chosen to lead the Asari Republics after the previous government was annihilated during the Battle of Thessia. Apparently the surviving Asari wanted someone with a new perspective and new ideas to lead them in this new galaxy they all found themselves in.
Aethyta always had other views than the rest of the Matriarchs; it was why she ended up on Illium in the first place. No one wanted to listen to her ideas then. But now, with Thessia obliterated and the Asari in shambles, perhaps those new ideas would be helpful.
She was more laissez-faire to both life and politics, but wanted to change the old ways to improve the Asari as a whole. Of course, Thessia and all the destroyed colonies would have to be rebuilt first, but after that, she would introduce measures to make Asari society more unified, along with becoming more active on a galactic scale and more militant. That was the only way they could survive in this modern galaxy. Young Asari had to help improve society in their maiden years instead of becoming strippers or mercenaries and going around the galaxy doing whatever took their fancy. But, first things were first.
"Don't worry kiddo," replied Aethyta reassuringly. "We've got your expertise and we've got pretty much all the Asari from around the galaxy to help. We'll rebuild, no problem."
"If the Imperium lets us," replied Liara morosely. Aethyta didn't reply. That was the only concern. The Asari could change, they could rebuild better than ever… But the lingering scars of the old Matriarchs and their arrogance alongside what happened during the war still remained. The future was uncertain, and Aethyta had to be careful to ensure that the Imperium would allow them to remain.
oOo
In the year of His Majesty, 190.M3, let it be known:
In the name of His Divine Majesty, the God-Emperor of Mankind, by the Grace of the Golden Throne and the authority of the Adeptus Administratum, it had been decried:
In compliance and accordance with the Treaty of the Citadel, signed 189.M3 by the Inquisitors of the Holy Ordos in the name of the High Lords of Terra and thus His Majesty the Emperor, and by the representatives of the Citadel Council, the races of the Citadel Council and all who fall under its purview are thus declared Xenos Sanctum by the Holy Ordos of His Majesty's Most Holy Inquisition. In addition, said races who fall under the purview of the Treaty of the Citadel shall thusly and rightly pay the Imperial Tithe.
Thus the Adeptus Administratum, in accordance to this fair measure, has leveled the Imperial Tithe as follows upon the signatories of the Treaty of the Citadel as is fair and ordained by the Law of the Lex and the Word of His Majesty.
It should be thusly noted that it is the duty of each planetary governor and each leader of each government and race that it is their duty to ensure that Terra's Due is paid in full. How they do so and how they run their responsibilities is up to them, as is the Law of the Lex, but all Tithe responsibilities must be met lest they face Imperial judgment.
It should also be noted that the Adeptus Administratum and Departmento Munitorium may, in times of peril, raise the Tithe in regards to military resources. This too shall the governor or government pay, lest they face Imperial judgment.
In addition, as the governments of the Citadel Council rule their worlds as they see fit, and as it is these governments that pay the Imperial Tithe, and not each individual world, the Imperial Tithe is put upon these governments. It is up to these governments to pay the Tithe, and do so as they wish within the resources at their control, so long as the Tithe is met.
In addition, those governments and races that fall under other Citadel races as protectorates must also pay the Imperial Tithe, as has been signed in the Treaty of the Citadel. Each so-called "client race" may pay the Tithe directly, or through their protectorate races, and shall make the Adeptus Administratum know which they prefer for the record.
Each government with a standing military must pay His Majesty's government part of its military personnel in service to the Golden Throne of Terra. These military forces will, as the Tithe dictates, be handed over to serve the Departmento Munitorium and thus become regiments of the Astra Militarum in the service of the Golden Throne of Terra.
Each government shall also pay its fair share of natural resources, based upon what each government has to offer. These include, but are not limited to: iron ore, steel, gold, copper, silver, lithium, platinum, adamantium, hydrogen, tungsten, boron, silicon, nickel, cobalt, chromium, titanium, lead, tin, uranium, palladium, iridium, element zero, etc., etc., etc. and all other forms of minerals, as well as foodstuffs and other important plant-based resources.
Let it be also noted that, in failure to pay any of the above due to resource limitations, should the government in question wish, it may pay medical resources as part of its Tithe.
The first Imperial Tithe is due ten years from this date, and may be paid at any time within that year; that year being 200.M3 in the Imperial calendar, or 2200 A.D. in the Alliance calendar.
Therefore, as has been set forward by the Adeptus Administratum as is just, the Imperial Tithe grades are as follows:
The Turian Hierarchy:
Exactus Tertius for the first Tithe, and so long as it takes the Turian Hierarchy to rebuild. After this period, or if the Turian Hierarchy considers itself rebuilt before the first Tithe and so wishes to pay, the Tithe shall be upgraded to Exactus Particular.
The Systems Alliance:
Exactus Tertius for the first Tithe, and so long as it takes the Systems Alliance to rebuild. After this period, or if the Systems Alliance considers itself rebuilt before the first Tithe and so wishes to pay, the Tithe shall be upgraded to Exactus Particular.
The Salarian Union:
Exactus Median, starting with the first Tithe and continuing onwards.
The Asari Republics:
Decuma Extremis, until a period of one decade after, where it shall be upgraded to Exactus Tertius, then after the next five years, decade, or until which time it takes the Asari to rebuild, Exactus Particular.
The Vol Protectorate:
Exactus Particular
The Illuminated Primacy:
Exactis Extremis
Courts of Dekuuna:
Decuma Prima, until which time the Elecor have rebuilt, after which period the Tithe shall be upgraded to Exactus Tertius.
Ave Imperator
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Codex:
The Imperial Tithe:
The Imperial Tithe is the tax levied upon each planet and vassal of the Imperium of Man. It is worked out upon each planet's ability to pay the Tithe. Thus, poorer worlds pay less, while rich pay more, and each world pays with what it can. For instance, agri-worlds pay with food, whereas militarized worlds like Cadia or Mordian pay in Imperial Guard troops. Most planets are forced to pay 10% of their standing military forces to the Imperium unless said planet cannot raise a military or the Tithe would compromise its security (and even then, they are still forced to pay in some cases.) In addition, each planet must cull its psykers and send them on the Black Ships to Terra. Forge worlds, Space Marine chapter homeworlds, and Knight worlds are excepted from the Tithe as they fully support the Imperium with their resources through other means. The wider Imperium does not care how each planet is ruled, so long as they continue to pay the Tithe and obey wider Imperial law.
The Imperial Tithe grades are as follows, from the highest (most Tithe required) to the lowest (least Tithe required):
Exactis Extremis- the highest and most demanding Tithe grade, leveled on major planets such as cardinal worlds and the highly militarized and famous Guard homeworlds
Exactis Particular
Exactis Median
Exactis Prima
Exactis Secundus
Exactis Tertius
Decuma Extremis
Decuma Particular
Decuma Median
Decuma Prima
Decuma Secundus
Decuma Tertius
Solutio Extremis
Solutio Particular
Solutio Median
Solutio Prima
Solutio Secundus
Solutio Tertius
Adeptus Non- No tithe required due to the world being completely barren/void of all resources, or the world already provides an important service to the Imperium, such as a Space Marine homeworld or a Mechanicus forge world.
oOo
There we have it! Two chapters to go, both epilogue-style. I hope you do enjoy them. Again, I have an absolutely great story planned after this, so I'm not going anywhere. I hope you all liked the chapter, and like the following chapters! As always, I apprecaite any comments, questions, concerns, criticisms, and reviews!