Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to my Warhammer/Mass Effect crossover.
I have a major announcement to make. I will be moving to my new property this coming weekend. As such, I may be temporarily unavailable for some time. I will do what I can to get new chapters out before moving day comes. After that, it'll be, effectively, radio silence.
This chapter will also receive expansions and edits as time progresses, so while it might seem fairly short right now, it's likely going to get much longer once all the edits are done.
Either way, thank you very much for your feedback. I deeply appreciate it.
As always, leave a review and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Warhammer or Mass Effect franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of BioWare, Electronic Arts and Games Workshop. Any material original to the franchises belong to their respective developers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artists. I do not own any art listed in each chapter. Any art listed belongs to it's original artists and/or designers.
Citadel
Serpent Nebula
80.185.M3
For most, the sight of seeing the Citadel, the space station that served as the cultural and political center of the galaxy, would have been nothing short of awe inspiring. Most would have every reason to do so, as the Citadel was an impressive sight. At roughly forty five kilometers in length, and roughly thirteen kilometers in diameter when opened, the Citadel was the largest space station in the entire galaxy, a feat of engineering the likes of which couldn't be matched.
To Coræven Mortellus, however, the Citadel, in terms of size, was not particularly impressive. There were quite a few ships in the Imperium of Man, and a few space stations, that came close, if they didn't equal, the size of the Citadel. The Ark Mechanicus class of void ships, for instance, were wider than a Dominion-class void ship was long, and were large enough that they generated the gravity field of an unstable moon. One of them, the Zar-Quaesitor, was the mobile laboratory and flagship of Archmagos Belisarius Cawl, one of the foremost, if not the foremost, minds in the Adeptus Mechanicus, or the Imperium of Man for that matter.
What was impressive to him, however, was the sheer psychic imprint that the Citadel had in the Warp. Even though they were only just approaching the station now, he, thanks to the fact that he was an Alpha-class Primaris Psyker, could sense each of the souls on the station, down to each thought and emotion. For most, the sheer psychic imprint of the Citadel, would've been far too much to handle, and even though he was powerful, Mortellus himself could barely withstand the overwhelming psychic stimuli his senses were perceiving.
As such, he quickly, but masterfully, tuned out all but the most important psychic emanations coming from the station, while analyzing the psychic emanations. Most of them, he found, were quite old, far older than the current civilization that inhabited the Citadel. This prompted him to recall a conversation he had with Shepard concerning the Citadel's origins.
It would make sense for the Reapers to construct the Citadel, he had noted to himself during that conversation. For anyone that claimed it, and didn't know better, the Citadel would be a show of economic prowess and engineering, especially if it was believed that the Protheans had built it. Since I know it's true origins, however, I see it as a monument of death and chaos to the Reapers, a sour reminder of why they must be crushed by the might of Humanity, lest we be destroyed and brushed aside like chaff from a stalk of wheat.
Nearby, Tyrellus and the two Guardsmen, Ivan and Vladim, also showed body language indicative of discomfort at that fact, though it wasn't the only cause. Mortellus could sense that much of this discomfort came from the fact that they were about to step foot onto a station that was teeming with both human, and alien, life. He could also sense a deep seated determination to remain stalwart in the face of such a fact, which he felt was commendable on their part.
He could also sense Joker's eagerness to impress them, especially with the destination they were about to arrive at. A few days earlier, he had a chat with the man, though Joker had been especially guarded since he knew of Mortellus' profession. It is good that he was cautious, even if it was unnecessary, he thought to himself. In addition, his sarcasm and wit makes for a strong barrier to any attempt to read his mind. Only a Psyker of a level similar to mine, can get past his mental barrier, and even then, it's not that easy.
Joker, unaware of this internal musing, beamed at them. "Impressive isn't it? 45 kilometers of every species working together in the galaxy. That is… if you don't know that it's owned by the Reapers."
"It is not impressive," Tyrellus frowned.
Joker wore a hurt expression upon hearing that. "That's a damn slander, Tyrellus. Does your Imperium have anything that can match the Citadel in terms of size?"
"Some that come close, though I don't know of any that do," Mortellus added. "There is a category of void ship that exists in the Imperium of Man, known as Battleship class to be precise. They're large, around eight to twelve kilometers long to be precise, and the largest ones generate a gravity field that is equal to that of a large moon."
Joker, upon hearing this, went dead silent, while his eyes widened to the size of quarters and his jaw dropped open. A noise of disbelief came out of his mouth before he said, "Twelve kilometers?! What do you use those things for?! Smashing planets apart?!"
"Something like that," Mortellus nodded. "They are the grandest void ships in the entire Imperial Navy. Whenever one of them shows up, then that means that the situation is bad, and that the enemies of the Imperium of Man will experience death and destruction on an unimaginable scale. Either way, you do not want to be found on the ground when one such ship comes to bombard it."
"Shit," Joker frowned. "And I thought the SSV Kilimanjaro was big. Now I know that it's tiny compared to some of your ships. How large are the most common ones?"
"Six to eight kilometers." That prompted an impressed whistle from Joker. "Anything bigger?"
"Yes," Tyrellus nodded. "I once was assigned to a fleet that temporarily stopped at the Phalanx."
"Is that a space station of some kind?"
"Yes. It is the fortress-monastery of the Imperial Fists, who are also Space Marines such as I."
"OK. How big is it?"
"The size of a small moon, far larger than the Citadel by far. It is rumored that it is eighty kilometers in size. It's fore-deck alone can have a dozen Cruisers dock to it."
Hearing that, Joker was, once again, left speechless. "Damn," he whistled after a few seconds of silence. "Now that's amazing. I'll bet it's nice and safe with all of you Space Marines there." Tyrellus merely nodded, while Joker returned to flying the ship.
A moment later, he contacted Citadel STC (Space Traffic Control). "Citadel Control, this is the SSV Normandy SR2, requesting a docking berth, over."
A moment later, a reply came in. "SSV Normandy, this is Citadel Control, you are cleared for docking. Proceed along heading 2-4-0 to Docking Bay Zero-Niner-Five-Romeo and reduce speed to recommended upper limit. Over."
"Roger that. Turning to heading 2-4-0. Reducing speed to safe limits." A shudder ran through the deck as the Normandy began slowing down to the safe limits that were required for safe flight near the Citadel. Turning to the others, he said, "You guys might want to get ready for your introduction to the Citadel Council."
"I look forwards to it," Ivan said calmly as he, Mortellus, and the others left, though the sarcasm in his voice indicated his displeasure.
. . .
A few minutes later, they were heading to the docking bay for Zakera Ward, with the amount of people coming along necessitating the use of the Kodiak. Inside, everyone was ready for a fight, though they knew that there was no need for one. Better to be ready, and not have to fight, than to have to fight and not be ready, was Shepard's personal justification for having his gear on and ready. For the others, it was out of pure habit and training.
There was a muted thump as the Kodiak landed, before the doors opened, allowing Shepard to step outside and look around. The entrance to Zakera Ward was small, though there was a large avenue that he and the others were at. A nearby booth had a woman that was talking with people that were coming onto the Citadel, while holographic stands had advertisements plastered all over them.
The aliens that were here were also numerous. Mortellus could sense that Ivan, Vladim and Tyrellus were struggling to keep themselves from pulling out their weapons and firing on the crowd of aliens, though Tyrellus was having a far better time of it thanks to his training. Mortellus, thanks to his own training, had an ironclad grip on his instincts, and as such, easily brushed off the inclination to open fire. Garrus, on the other hand, was as cool as a cucumber.
The same couldn't be said of the aliens. All of them were staring at the newcomers, especially Tyrellus, given his heavy armor plating and massive gun. Already, omni-tools had been pulled out, and most were taking photographs or video recordings. That's not going to make things easy, Mortellus thought to himself. It won't be long before people are hunting us for our weapons and armor. If they are foolish enough to do so, though, they will soon learn the folly of attacking loyal servants of the Imperium.
"We're here," Shepard told the others. "To the four of you, be sure to be on your best behavior. I don't want to find out that y'all were killed for firing on aliens. I know it'll be difficult not to do so, but restraint, in this case, is the best course of action. Understood?"
"Perfectly," Tyrellus nodded.
"We'll do our best," Vladim nodded. Seeing Ivan's frown, he said, "Come on, Ivan. We're obliged by the God-Emperor of Mankind to follow Shepard's orders."
"I know," Ivan frowned. "I still don't like the fact that there are so many xenos around here." He muttered something under his breath in Low Gothic, likely a curse word from the way it sounded.
Spotting something nearby, Shepard said, "Wait one. I'm going to check something out. Be back in a few." While he did so, Ivan and Vladim spotted three armored men near the door. Curious, they both walked closer to the trio, enough that they were within earshot.
Apparently, it was a commanding officer doing disciplinary action, as what they heard indicated clearly. The CO of that squad was holding a metal object in his hand, which resembled a blunted cone attached to a cylinder. Moments later, the man began to speak.
"This, recruits, is a 20-kilo ferrous slug. Feel the weight. Every five seconds, the main gun of an Everest-class dreadnought accelerates one to 1.3% of light speed. It impacts with the force of a 38 kiloton nuclear bomb. That is roughly twice the power of the city-buster that was dropped on Hiroshima back on Earth.
"That means Sir Issac Newton is the deadliest son-of-a-bitch in space! Now! Serviceman Burnside! What is Newton's First Law?"
"Sir! An object in motion remains in motion, sir!" the Serviceman in question replied.
"No credit for half-assed answers, maggot!" the CO barked out.
"Sir! Unless acted upon by an outside force, sir!" came the hasty addition.
"Damn straight! I dare to assume you ignorant jackasses know that space is empty. Once this hunk of metal is fired, it keeps going until it hits something. That can be a ship, or the planet behind the ship; it might go off into deep space and hit somebody else in ten thousand years. If you pull the trigger on this, you are ruining someone's day, somewhere, sometime."
Whacking the two with a slap to the face, the CO continued to chew them out. "That is why you check your targets! That is why you wait for the computer to give you a damn firing solution! That is why, Serviceman Chung, we do not 'eyeball it!' This is a weapon of mass destruction! You are not a cowboy firing from the hip!"
"Sir, yes sir!" the Serviceman replied.
"Damn straight!" the CO barked. "Now get your fucking asses onto a shuttle back to the ship immediately! If you're late by even one second, I'll have you two cleaning up your bunks with nothing but a fucking toothbrush! AM I UNDERSTOOD!?"
"Sir, yes sir!" the two Servicemen replied, clearly not wanting to have to go through that kind of a punishment. They were practically blurs as they ran back to their shuttle and took off.
Ivan and Vladim, hearing this, actually chuckled to each other. "Hehehe," Ivan beamed, a smile on his face. "Those two got off lucky. A Commissar would've had them cleaning the entire ship, for a lousy mistake like that."
"Good luck with that," Vladim nodded. "If it was one of their ships, they might get it done in a feasible time-frame. One of ours, though… they'd have their beards to their knees by the time they'd be done." The two laughed uproariously as they shared in the humor of the moment.
Nearby, Tyrellus had an amused smile under his helmet, while Mortellus' expression was neutral, though he too was laughing at the scene. Nothing like a little humor, however light or dark, to brighten one's mood. Spotting Shepard coming back over, he asked, "I take it you completed your business?"
"Yes," Shepard nodded. "We picked up a new member."
"Let me guess: Kasumi Goto?"
"You read my mind."
"I am a Psyker. It's expected of us."
"Go figure."
As the team left, Mortellus thought he sensed someone approaching him from the rear. Turning around, he lifted a hand, prompting the individual's cloak to fail. The individual in question turned out to be a woman that was dressed in a black and gray suit, with a hood over her head. This hid some of her facial features, though Mortellus could easily see her eyes, and the makeup on her face.
"Damn," the woman remarked, surprised that her cloak had failed. "You've got some weird magic powers. I've never been caught like that before."
"Few have successfully snuck up on a Primaris Psyker, and an Inquisitor at that," Mortellus replied. "Kasumi Goto, I presume?"
"You presume correctly," Kasumi nodded. "Thief extraordinaire, at your service."
Mortellus smirked. "Let me guess, you were intending to see if you could successfully perform an act of conversion without me noticing."
"If you mean stealing, then yes. You really are a mind reader." As she turned to leave, she asked, "Mind if we talk more later?"
"Perhaps," Mortellus remarked. He could already tell that Kasumi's intent to perform the civil violation of conversion (stealing) wasn't out of malice. In fact, he could tell that she was impressed that he'd found her out so quickly. With that, he quickly caught up with the others.
The rest of the team was standing inside of a long hallway that had a few one-way windows on the left hand side. Currently, a thin beam of light was washing over them, Mortellus included since he'd arrived, while a C-SEC officer was standing at a nearby console. Looks like it's a wait, he noted.
While he thought this through, Garrus was talking with Shepard. "I thought it'd be nice to come back here and see how it's changed, but it's just like it was. The same dirty streets, same unrepentant scavengers, same revolving door prisons. Being security here is a terrible job. That's why I left."
"I agree," Shepard nodded. Looking at Vladim, he asked, "What's law enforcement in the Imperium like?"
"Far more stringent and brutal than this," Vladim replied. "The Adeptus Arbites is the official law enforcement of the Imperium of Man. They are, effectively, judge, jury and executioner. If a crime is committed, they hunt down the offender relentlessly, and are without mercy in delivering their sentence. Some crimes are punished by forced labor, others by death."
"That sounds pretty brutal."
"It is. However, given the state the Imperium of Man is in, it is a necessary part of life."
Just as Vladim said this, the scanner they were being checked by bleeped, indicating that something was up. The officer in question reached up and began talking with someone. "Shut it down," he ordered. Apparently he heard the opposite, as he asked, "What? Do you seriously think -? Yeah… alright."
Looking at Shepard and the others, he said, "Sorry about the inconvenience, sirs. Our scanners have picked up a few anomalies. For one, the five people with you are armed with heavy armor and weapons. In addition, they seem to think that you are… for lack of a better term… dead."
Shepard shrugged. "I was listed as MIA a few years ago."
"Would you mind checking in with my Captain? He can reinstate you in our system. The others will have to undergo a registration process, though."
"They're with me. We won't be here for too long."
"Then you may go on your way." With that, the door opened, allowing them through.
This led to another room, which had a large, open air doorway to the rest of Zakera Ward. To the right, a few people were working at a pair of desks, with one of them having brown hair and dark green eyes. Apparently, he was having to deal with another recruit, as he said, "You'll have to make him scream a little. He's not going to tell you everything just because you ask."
The recruit, a woman, said, "I know, sir."
"If you don't have the stomach for it, or your worried about being reported, I can handle it."
"No, sir! I can handle it." With that, Shepard and the others approached.
If there was one thing that Captain Bailey hated having to deal with, it was two things: officers that were squeamish, and uncooperative suspects, the former a little more than the latter. With the latter, it was something that came with the territory. The former, however, was downright irritating, and he'd often fantasized about firing each one on the spot for backing out on the job, though he held back since he knew it was against the law.
In addition, he had to deal with a number of people everyday. He'd come up with his own little label for every group of people that came to the Citadel, such as 'living footballs that think only of money', or 'hardassed bird-lizards on shore leave.' It made compartmentalizing the stress of the job easier.
With this group, he already had a label ready to go: 'Two soldiers, and four religious nutcases with guns.' He changed that label to something more polite, though, when he spotted the leader of the group, who had walked up to his desk. "One sec… I see the problem already, Commander Shepard. My console says you're dead."
"You're not worried that I'm some impostor claiming to be me?" Shepard asked.
"We have the best screening equipment in the galaxy," Bailey replied. "Those scanners can sample DNA from skin flakes. Hell, if you've got unregistered gene mods, they can figure even those out, especially yours." He motioned to Tyrellus when he said this, though it was already clear that the gene-mods he was seeing were far beyond anything he'd seen before.
"Your Sergeant said you could help with that."
"Usually, you'd have to go through the Station Security Administration to get your ID's reactivated, or to get new ones if it's your first time here. Then to Customs and Immigration to regain and/or gain access to the Citadel itself, and probably a stop by the Treasury. 'Spending a year dead' is a popular tax dodge… But, I can see you and your friends are busy people." Leaning over a button, he said, "So how about I press this button, and we call it a day?"
"Couldn't one of us – or both of us – get in trouble for that?"
"There's no way to fool the DNA scanners in that hallway. You're you. Why wait in long lines and fill out a mass of useless hardcopy paperwork to get to the same place? The Council does everything by the book. They have had thousands of years to write the damned thing. Sometimes, however, things need to get done without a committee vote." Bailey slammed a hand onto the desk when he said this, making his irritation towards unnecessary rules clear.
"I like this man already," Vladim whispered to Ivan.
"Me too," Ivan nodded.
"Your not big on formalities, aren't you?" Shepard observed.
"I'm right up with them until they keep my people from doing their jobs," Bailey explained. Pressing a few buttons, he said, "There. I just saved you nine days of running around. That being said, you should head up to the Presidium and -"
A moment later, Bailey was interrupted when four Turians wearing heavy grade body armor walked inside. Looking at them, Shepard immediately recognized them for who they were. Spectres, he noted mentally. Wonder why they brought four.
That became quite clear, as one of them, a male Turian with green facial paint and brown colored eyes, spoke a moment later. "Sir, Avitus Rhix. My orders are to bring you to the Citadel Tower ASAP."
"Is there something wrong?" Shepard asked.
"The Council has heard rumors that you were working with four unknowns and a known terrorist organization," Avitus explained. "STG intelligence confirmed this while you were at Horizon. We would like to speak to them to ascertain their purpose here, along with you."
Ivan, hearing this, started getting hostile. "Oh, really?" he asked, hand already inching towards his Evgenov Laspistol. "Then you -"
"Calm yourself," Tyrellus told Ivan. Still, the air was thick with tension, as two of the four Spectres had reached for their weapons when Ivan started doing the same.
It was at this moment that Mortellus stepped in. Clearing his throat, he said, "We would be honored to make an acquaintance with the Council. That being said, if you attempt to do anything uncouth towards us, I will make the last seconds of your life the most painful that you will ever experience. Are we clear?"
Again, the Spectres bristled at the threat, though Avitus, remaining calm, had them stand down. "Yes," he replied.
"Well, then. Shall we, Commander Shepard?"
"Doesn't look like we have a choice," Shepard shrugged as he and the others began to follow Avitus and the other Spectres.
. . .
Up in one of the private rooms of the Council Chambers, Councilor Anderson, formerly Captain, was fuming internally at the decision the other three Councilors had made. I can understand their paranoia, but this is taking it too far, he growled mentally. Sending four armed Spectres to bring in people that would've come anyways? What the hell are they thinking?!
Those three Councilors in question, however, were Councilors Sparatus, Tevos and Valern. Ever since the attack on the Citadel, they had tightened security greatly, though they didn't go overboard with it. The one thing that irritated Anderson the most was their consistent denial of the Reaper's existence, despite the overwhelming amount of evidence supporting the existence of the Reapers.
That was more than enough to cause Anderson to question why he had become a Councilor in the first place. Often times, it feels like I'm smashing my head against a brick wall. Still, I do it because it's my duty, regardless of how painful it is.
"This meeting would be more productive if Udina was present," Tevos quietly remarked.
"My advisor is unavailable," Anderson shrugged, though he knew the reason why. "As Councilor, I represent the voice of Humanity, and the Alliance. Shepard will be here any -"
He was interrupted when the door opened, allowing Shepard to walk inside. He smiled, though his eyes widened and his smile faded when five other people walked inside. Two resembled soldiers, another resembled a scholar from Earth's past, while the last looked like it was a mech of some sort. The only other familiar face was Garrus', and he knew of him due to his association with Shepard.
"Hello, Shepard," Anderson beamed, doing his best not to react too much to the newcomers. "We were just talking about you."
Smiling, Shepard shook Anderson's extended hand. "It's been too long, Anderson," he beamed. "I hope the past couple of years have treated you right."
"There's been some rough spots," Anderson admitted. "It's good to have you back."
That was when Valern butted in. "We have heard rumors surrounding your unexpected return. Some of them are… unsettling… especially those surrounding the four individuals that you have brought along."
"We called this meeting so you could explain your actions, Shepard," Tevos said diplomatically. "We owe you that much. After all, you saved our lives in the battle against Saren and the Geth."
"Well, you're about to get an explanation, though it might not be one you'll like," Shepard nodded. Clearing his throat, he said, "The Collectors, an alien race we recently ran into, are abducting human colonists on the borders of Alliance Space and the Terminus Systems. The worst part, is that we have confirmation that they are working for the Reapers."
True enough, the Councilors didn't like the news, as Tevos and Valern remained silent. Sparatus, however, was the more vocal here. "The Terminus Systems are beyond our jurisdiction!" he snarled indignantly. "Your colonists knew this when they left Council Space!"
"Oh, really?" Ivan growled. "Then why do you refuse to destroy the Terminus Systems and punish them like the cowardly criminals that they are, pray tell?!"
Sparatus, hearing that, looked directly at Ivan and said, "You'd best keep your compatriot's silent when necessary, Shepard."
"Your missing the important part," Anderson interrupted. "The Reapers are involved."
"Ah, yes, the Reapers," Sparatus said mockingly. "The immortal race of sapient starships waiting in dark space. We have already dismissed that claim."
"No one else encountered the hologram on Ilos that told you the truth about the Reapers, Shepard," Anderson explained calmly. "Only you and your crew ever spoke with Sovereign. I believe you, but without evidence from another source, the others think that Saren was behind the attack."
"Then they are naught but fools," Tyrellus added. Looking at the Councilors, he said, "Do you really think that the Reapers don't exist, or will you finally realize the truth when they are smashing in the doors of your puny fortifications and lackluster facilities? Hmmph, typical xenos behavior: hide in the bushes and wait for a problem to disappear, rather than face it head on in combat."
"So, is that all you have to say about us?" Spartaus replied snidely. "Have you ever had to make decisions of the kind that we do every day?"
"Yes," was the reply.
It would've continued like this, except for the fact that Shepard, who was also indignant, said, "I kept Saren from conquering the Citadel. I sacrificed human lives to save this Council."
"We are in a difficult position, Shepard," Tevos replied. "You are working for Cerberus – an avowed enemy of the Council. This is treason, a capital -" She never finished the sentence.
"That's too far!" Anderson shouted, finally losing his cool as anger flashed in his eyes. "Shepard is a hero! I'm on this Council too, and I won't let this whitewash continue!"
Hearing that, Tevos immediately revised her statement. "Maybe we can do a compromise then," she suggested. "Not a public acknowledgment, given your ties, but something to show peripheral support. Before that, however, we must discuss the four people that have come inside with you."
While he didn't like the whitewashing the Council had attempted to give him, Shepard knew that he had to explain Mortellus and the others. "Alright, but we're not finished with the argument from earlier," he decided. "I would like to introduce you to these people. Just remember, they're quite a bit different from what you're typically used to."
"We can see that," Sparatus decided. Looking at the group, he asked, "Who are you, people?"
"Who are we?" Mortellus replied. "Well, to start off, how about we introduce ourselves. I am Coræven Mortellus, Primaris Psyker of the Inquisition, and a servant of His Holiness, the God-Emperor of Mankind. With me are Vladimir Tchaikovsky and Ivan Korolev of the Imperial Guard and Battle-Brother Marcus Tyrellus of the Ultramarines."
"God-Emperor? Imperium of Man?" Valern asked, confused. "Mind if you explain?"
"My apologies, Councilors," Shepard added, though it was clear he wasn't that apologetic. "I forgot to mention that they're from another universe. Meant to include that, but forgot to."
"Shepard, have you lost your mind?" Sparatus asked, flabbergasted. "Are you suggesting that -"
"We are from another universe, and not a faction from some obscure portion of the galaxy?" Mortellus finished. "No, Councilor Sparatus. We are from another universe entirely, and I can say the same to you, Tevos and Valern."
That caught Tevos and the others off guard. "How did you know our names?" she asked. "We didn't tell you them."
Instead of a verbal reply, Mortellus gave them a visual, and a psychic one. His eyes began to glow that bright blue-white that indicated that he was using his powers as a Psyker. At the same time, the Councilors began to feel uneasy, though they couldn't pinpoint the cause as to why. Even Anderson felt a little off, though he could tell that the sensation wasn't directed at him.
"Spirits, what is that?" Sparatus asked, looking at Mortellus directly. "What are you doing?"
A mere demonstration of a portion of my powers, Mortellus replied. For instance, I know that you deeply love and care about your daughter, Previana Sparatus, a Lieutenant in the 26th Armiger Legion. I know that you want to believe Shepard, but that you are powerless against the others to do anything.
When Sparatus heard that, his eyes went as wide as they could go, more so when he realized that he heard Moretellus inside his own head, and not out loud. A cold feeling of terror gripped his gut, as he realized that such a person could easily peer into his mind without having to do a thing to him physically. Is this what it's like to know that all of your secrets are laid bare, he wondered, terrified by the implications of what he was experiencing.
Mortellus had sensed this, as Sparatus heard the Psyker say, Fear not, Sparatus. I sensed the sarcasm that you had in your voice when you claimed that the Reapers didn't exist. You don't truly believe that the Reapers are a myth, and that you want to help Shepard, but are hamstrung by the fools known as Tevos and Valern. Many men that would have been valiant heroes were crippled by fear. Even if they call you a fool, you must refuse to allow the opinions of a few people to control.
Hearing that, Sparatus felt, oddly enough, comforted, likely due to the fact that Mortellus had seen who he was and had decided that a guiding hand was more appropriate than a slap in the face. Looking at Tevos and Valern, he watched as their eyes went wide as well, with each one doing the same thing just a few seconds apart from each other. Looking at Mortellus, he said, "Now you have our attention."
"That I do," Mortellus nodded. "You might want to get comfortable. This will take some time." A moment later, he began to tell the Councilors about the Imperium of Man. It was a speech that he had created during their transit to the Citadel, using information that the God-Emperor of Mankind had burned into his mind specifically for that purpose.
For the next two hours, the Councilors learned about the Imperium of Man, from when the God-Emperor of Mankind founded it at the end of the Age of Strife, to the Great Crusade, to the Horus Heresy, all the way to the present day, with the Indomitus Crusade. It was a speech that spoke of glorious deeds of valor, as well as the lowest forms of treachery and madness. It wasn't everyday that one learned that there were four people from a universe that was in a grim and dark future.
The Councilor's reactions varied, to say the least. Valern's mouth was watering at the possibility of new technologies, though he was more than a little concerned about these 'Ruinous Powers of Chaos.' Tevos looked as though she was about to burst into tears, but also wondered how such a grand and noble empire could fall so far. Sparatus, for the most part, was respectful, though there were times when he shook his head at various strategies the Imperium of Man used.
"Goddess…" Tevos whispered, genuinely horrified by the grim and dark future the Imperium of Man was seemingly trapped in. "Such death… such horror… How can one live in such a time?"
"Terrible," Valern nodded, his enthusiasm for new technology curbed by the grim reality the Imperium of Man faced. "Simply terrible."
"And all of that because of a betrayal," Sparatus frowned. "Spirits… Is that to be our fate? To be destroyed and annihilated by this Age of Strife?"
"I do not believe so," Mortellus replied. "Your universe is different from ours. However, it will be like that if you do not listen to Shepard and his words. All of this time, he has been trying to stave off a fate that would render your immediate future a grim and dark one."
"But how?" Valern tried to debate. "We still have insufficient evidence that -"
"For Spirits' sake, knock it off, Valern!" Sparatus shouted, his irritation towards the Salarian Councilor finally boiling over. "Don't you realize what's in front of us?! We're talking to a Human that can read our very thoughts as though our minds are like books in a library! It's useless to deny the truth from him, because he can invade our thoughts and see the truth for himself!" That, along with a withering look from Tevos, finally got the Salarian Councilor to close his mouth.
"A wise decision, Sparatus," Mortellus replied. "Now do you doubt Shepard and his warnings? If myself, and my compatriots, were sent from another universe at the behest of the God-Emperor, then it is even more likely, in fact fully certain, that the Reapers exist and that Shepard has been warning you all this time."
"I can't argue with that," Tevos agreed. "You knew of information that only I know of, and I know that information is highly classified." Leaning forwards onto the table, she asked, "So, with that in mind, what are we to do?"
"I think we all know what we have to do," Anderson decided. "We have to get ready for the Reapers. We have to build up our military forces in preparation of that fact."
"That's a sensible first step," Sparatus agreed. "We also have to train our troops to deal with the Reapers as well. Any ideas on how to do that?"
"We can share technology with each other," Vladim suggested. "If the God-Emperor sees that it is the logical decision, which I'm certain that he might given our orders, then we can begin sharing some of our technology with you. If only we had a Tech-Priest on hand, though."
"There is hope for that," Mortellus added.
"Do tell," Shepard replied.
"Before we left for the Citadel, I had a vision from the God-Emperor of Mankind. I asked Him if I could share any technology we had with the Systems Alliance. He agreed, but He warned me not to give the technology to Cerberus. They might preach that they look out for Humanity, but in reality, they look out only for themselves. Even some Alliance Admirals serve them, rather than the Alliance and Humanity.
"As for the prospect of a Tech-Priest, He informed me as to where we can find one. He informed me of the presence of a Magos-Errant on the world of Illium. All we have to do is travel there, and we shall not only find him, but the next two of the three recruits for our mission."
"I know that world," Tevos added. "Illium is an Asari world on the borders of Council Space and the Terminus Systems. It's a corporate world, though I do have some sway there. I can help clear a few things up. I also know that Liara T'Soni is there as well."
"Liara's there?" Shepard asked.
"Yes," Valern added, choosing his words carefully. "She works as an information broker there. She'll likely know where your 'Magos-Errant' is at."
"That's good to hear," Shepard nodded. "Now, about earlier…"
"Yes," Tevos nodded. "We will provide your full support to you. If there is anything you need, we will provide it. Until you cease your involvement with Cerberus, though, we cannot do so publicly."
"That's all that I ask for," Shepard nodded. "Also, help Anderson out as well. He's been trying his damnedest to do his job."
"That we will as well."
"Good," Shepard nodded. With that, they began to leave, along with the other Councilors. Everyone knew what they needed to do, and there wasn't much time to do it either.