Aboard a nameless, irrelevant fuel depot in a star system that was a backwater even by Terminus standards, Gazishafet walked into the greasy dump that had the gall to name itself a "bar" and took a brief moment to survey its interior. Her gaze eventually fell upon what she was looking for: a batarian man whose face was made of more scar tissue than healthy flesh. She casually walked up to the man's table, and he rose and greeted her as if she were an old friend. When she was seated, the man ordered two drinks, more to avoid suspicion than out of any particular desire to consume the local rotgut.

"Two ales, no watering."

Before long two frothing glasses were on the table and what little interest had been generated by Gazishafet's entry had long faded.

The man took an experimental sip, and shrugged. "I've had worse."

Gazishafet gave him a blank stare. "And I've had better. Why did you contact me?"

"Because the turians decided to shoot themselves in the foot, and suddenly all the humans' cheerleaders have vanished in a puff of smoke."

He spared her a glance. "Except you, clearly." He said with a note of derision.

Gazishafet didn't rise to the bait and give some feeble angry retort. She wouldn't let him delude himself into believing for one second that she was ashamed or embarrassed about working for the humans. She owed them that much.

"They could've cut a deal with the Hegemony, left us all to rot. But, they didn't. It would take a great deal of effort to think of something I wouldn't do for them."

The man looked uncomfortable for a moment, before hastily moving to change the subject. Gazishafet didn't begrudge him that. The humans' refusal to bend to the Hegemony was the sort of thing that a cynic like him had a difficult time slotting into their worldview. Still, it was a bit unusual. He didn't typically bother with small talk, especially when he was the one initiating a trade.

"Whatever. Let's get to business: the Hegemony is prepping for an invasion." He said.

Gazishafet rolled her eyes. "It doesn't really count as 'intel' if I can learn about it by turning on the news."

"Yeah, no shit, but it's happening soon."

"Define 'soon'."

"Credits."

Gazishafet sighed and tapped her credit chit against his.

He glanced at his own chit and made a face. "That's it?"

Gazishafet scoffed. "Are you kidding me? You're a big boy, you know the rest comes after."

He glared at her, but relented. "Three months. That's the time table. I got to sit in on the meeting with my base commander and the Admiral of Naval Logistics. He told us all about it, in between swearing and ranting about the ridiculous miracles they expected him to pull out of his ass. The whole damn fleet's being catapulted to max readiness."

Gazishafet felt cold. "...Ship numbers?"

His glare turned fiery. "Do you know how hard it is to get leave during a shitstorm like this? I had to burn favors I've been holding onto since I was in the fucking academy. And even then I only got away because I'm in logistics. So, I say again...Credits."

Gazishafet didn't even bother arguing, if there was even a shred of truth to his claims, then it'd be worth every centi-cred. She tapped her chit to his.

His expression softened, slightly, when he looked down at his chit. "Now we're making progress. Ok, you want ship numbers? That's pretty easy: all of them."

Gazishafet was annoyed. "Not helpful."

He grinned maniacally. "Yeah? Well I'm not joking. The whole damn regular navy's being mobilized, with troops to match."

Gazishafet was regretting how much money she'd just thrown at him for such obvious bullshit. "Really? That's the best you could come up with? Who's defending Hegemony space if the Navy is mobilizing?"

"They're pulling damn near the whole last generation of ships out of mothballs and stuffing reservists into them."

Gazishafet shook her head. "Not buying it. Even the Hegemony isn't dumb enough to pull something like that. Even if the turians are busy chewing their arms off, the asari and salarians aren't completely down for the count yet. Not enough to bank on some reservists, anyway."

He smirked. "The reservists are a supplement. For the vassal fleets. The Ruling Council has sounded banners."

Gazishafet got up to leave. "I've heard enough. There hasn't been a full call to arms since the fucking krogan were on our borders. Next time you call me, make sure it's for actual intel."

He grabbed her sleeve and force her to look at him. "You don't seem to get how furious your monkey friends made the brass. They ordered the execution of the captain of every single ship that retreated from the pitched battle with the human fleet. Not the surviving fleet commander, not his staff. Every. Captain."

Gazishafet wrenched out of his grip. "Stop spouting nonsense. That's absurd, even by Hegemony standards."

"That's the point. They staked their whole propoganda image on this war, and now the biggest battle so far was a complete failure. They're not leaving anything to chance now: they're gonna drown the humans in ship hulls. Believe me, or don't. Doesn't matter to me. I was lying about the leave, anyway. I'm a deserter now. I'm taking my money and fucking off. Maybe I can find my way to a galaxy that hasn't gone to shit. If I'm lucky, we'll never see each other again."

Gazishafet didn't bother saying goodbye, she just left the bar in a rush that was probably too obvious, but it didn't matter. She was never coming back here again. She may never be coming back to the Terminus at all, come to think of it. She entered a completely innocuous-looking freighter and spoke to the substantially less innocuous human in the cockpit.

"Get me to a comm buoy. We need to verify some intel, immediately."


Telia H'tett, the asari ambassador, was a rare example of an asari matriarch who was beginning to feel her age. As she poured tea, her arms moved with the carefulness one might expect from a human woman of proportionally comparable age. Human Ambassador Jessica Okoro sipped her tea, and struggled not to tap her foot in anxiety. The asari looked at her with a half smile.

"Don't worry, I didn't come here to play games of patience like some wise old sage. I'll cut to the chase: The Asari Republics are hanging you out to dry."

Jessica Okoro didn't know what she expected, but this was definitely not it.

She laughed. "What, surprised at hearing candor from an asari? I suppose I can't blame you." He voice grew bitter. " Honesty is apparently not something we ever valued, despite what I believed."

"Or perhaps you're just surprised at hearing it from me? You shouldn't be. This position was mostly ceremonial until our councilor decided to blow her brains out. It's where they said the old bags too stubborn to retire. So, what are they going to do to me for speaking honestly? Force me to retire?"

She looked into her teacup. "There was a time when I would have been shocked at my own words, but that version of myself lived in a galaxy where her entire life's work wasn't built upon a lie."

She looked up at Jessica and gave her another half smile. "Sorry, dear. My people are too busy wallowing in their shock and pointing fingers at each other to worry about the rest of the galaxy. I suppose it shouldn't horrify me at this point. What's one more sin on the pile?"

She sipped her tea, and Jessica got the feeling that this meeting would be an omen of sorts.


"I'm sorry." Turian ambassador Henadius said. Surprisingly enough, he looked like he actually meant it.

"I don't even have a real government to send your formal request to. I sent it to each of the claimants, figured it was worth a try. All of them replied back with vague promises that didn't actually promise anything, and all of the messages ended with some variation of 'once the succession crisis has ended'."

He shrugged apologetically. "Not much else to be done. I'll inform you if one of them decides to get off their ass and do something, but I won't hold my breath. I'm sorry we left such a lousy galaxy for you to make your debut into. Spirits, if only we'd met you ten years ago..."

Jessica stopped listening.


To Human Ambassador Jessica Okoro

The Salarian Union declines your request for military or material aid.

Sincerely,

Jenek Yev, Salarian Ambassador

Jessica read the message a few more times, getting more numb each time. The news report blared in her office.

"Reports of a massive military mobilization continue coming out of Hegemony, with even the most modest estimates placing it at a minimum of twelve thousand ships. Experts say the number will likely be higher at its peak, and is likely intended not merely for an expeditionary or punitive force as in previous incursions, but for a full-scale invasion of human space. With such an immense numbers disadvantage, human victory seems very far-"

Jessica shut off the screen, and put her face in her hands.


"Frankly, Ambassador Earth-Clan -sic- this is merely a courtesy. -sic- Despite your attempts to entice us with fiscal concessions -sic- the simple fact is that the Vol Protectorate has never once acted on its own militarily in the past - sic - and that was when our turian allies weren't actively eating themselves alive. -sic- Your ignorance of our ways would be -sic- forgivable if you were a mere stranger off the street, but you are an ambassador to the Council, a certain amount of -sic- decorum is expected..."

Jessica tuned him out. Her arguments had all fallen on deaf ears for the past twenty minutes anyway. The only reason he seemed to be continuing the conversation at this point was some sort of unfathomable desire to lecture her as though she were a colleague who had made a gaffe and not an emissary of a people begging to be saved from murder and mass enslavement. The numbness was only growing stronger.


"It this one's duty to inform you that the Illuminated Primacy, after much prayerful discussion, has regrettably voted to deny your request for aid, due to the Primacy's strict policy to never be an aggressor in any conflict. We do however extend an offer to accept any refugees from your space whe-if your people do not triumph against the detestable slavers whom you-"

Not sure what I was expecting. Jessica should've felt anguish or despair, but by now she found she didn't feel much of anything at all.


"With growing anguish at the state of the galaxy: After due consideration, the noble Elders from the Courts of Dekunna have-..."

Jessica only paid half attention, a small part of her wondering why she had even bothered.

"-to this end, our people are prepared to commit to an expeditionary force of two thousand ships at a minimum, with more being constructed amidst the new building program-"

"What?" The diplomat part of her mind was kicking herself for the foolish mistake, but the proverbial drowning woman who had just been thrown a life preserver was the one in charge at the moment.

The elcor ambassador - Jaffet, was his name - was slightly baffled, but answered her question.

"With mild annoyance tempered by knowledge of your probable emotional state: The Elders have voted to declare war on the Hegemony."

"Ho-Why-...Forgive me, I am more grateful than you can possibly imagine, but..."

"With amusement: ...but, why are we helping you when no others will?"

"...Yes."

"With pride: The elcor fought with the other warriors of the citadel against the rachni, and the krogan. We are known for our love of peace, but we also understand that it must be fought for. If you are allowed to be conquered by the batarians, who will be next?"

He did the elcor equivalent of clearing his throat. "With mild embarrassment at my own pragmatism: In addition...with the new relays, we are now the closest to the batarians on this side of the galaxy, besides you."

Jessica laughed. It seemed, with the state of the galaxy, more than one diplomate had decided that lies weren't worth the trouble anymore.

"So, you want a buffer state?"

"Conspiratorially: If we do, you certainly did not hear it from me."

Jessica laughed again. "Jaffet, my friend, if those ship numbers you gave me are true, you've just tripled the size of the fleet that will be facing the enemy."

Her face fell. "...Your people know the odds are still long, don't they?"

"With unwarranted optimism: There are still people with courage in this galaxy who will join us, I must believe that. Even if I am wrong, the batarians' insistence on a quick victory will cause them to make mistakes. Your people have worked miracles before on your own, with our help I am eager to see what we can achieve together."

He gave her the closest thing to a savage grin that an organism without a conventional mouth could give.

"Fatalistically: Do you not recall the phrase in that ancient human tongue? Sic Semper Tyrannus."

Jessica sprouted a feral grin of her own.


Hey all, this is the first of a multi-part arc, stay tuned for more quite soon.

As always, thank you very much for reading!