Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System
Normandy SR-2, Deck 3, Main Battery
0954 Local Time, June 25th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
It was clear that Virox had returned from his trip to Tuchanka changed. Not just the fact that he calmed down and did not seem to be on edge throughout the entire day, that much Garrus could attribute to returning to normality. No, he had changed the way he interacted with others, his presence was less hostile. To the rest of the crew he was starting to become borderline approachable, something that would have been unthinkable even before the radical shift in his behavior after he returned from the Collector Ship.
And Garrus was fine with that. At the very least, having Virox around in the Main Battery did not cause him to to feel that annoying tension in the lower back of his neck. Even better so, Virox would actually answer the questions he was asked with more words than one (his usual favorite in the past being 'no'), which meant that a semi-normal conversation could finally take place between them.
"-so after we've dealt with the thresher maw, killing off those krogan bastards, whose heads were just a tiny bit too far up their own asses, was little more than a clean-up." Virox ended his recalling of the fighting during the Rite.
"I can imagine that. After fighting off something the size of a thresher maw, nothing can really surprise you then." Garrus chuckled, having finished up the most recent calibration session. The new Thanix Cannon they had installed for the Normandy would be packing hell of a punch when at pinpoint accuracy once he got it up to his standards. "Say, do your people have anything like that? You know... like a way to celebrate adolescence?"
Truth be told, talking about Virox's experiences during Grunt's Rite was just an excuse to get him to talk, and arguably the most successful one. In the past the carvin would either ignore him or tell him to shut it. Now there was an opportunity to learn about him and his people, something Garrus was quite fond of doing, ever since teaming up Shepard against Saren.
"No, not to this extent." Virox shook his head, but then squinted slightly, as if remembering something. "I guess the closest thing would be getting your implant sockets installed, alongside a first set of implants. Usually at 6 years old. Don't know what that is in standard Citadel, turian or human measurements, but it's very young for us, since we live between 600 and 700 Carvistorn years on average."
"That... is pretty young." Garrus said, trying his best not to subconsciously stare at the carvin's own cybernetics. He always wondered just how did it happen that carvins made the use of cybernetic enhancements so widespread and mainstream. "And everyone uses them?"
"Almost. Few decide to pass on the full set, getting only some implants, even fewer go full 'ganic." Virox explained. "Everyone still has to serve their time in the military, but if you want to stay as a regular, all the baseline cybernetics are required."
"When did you get yours?" Garrus asked, as he finally found an excuse to look more closely at Virox's own mechanical limbs, which had impressed him ever since his debut at Haestrom.
Virox stopped at the question, and Garrus feared that he had chosen a touchy subject. He had no intention of agitating the carvin (any attempt at such was in all likelihood very hazardous to his health), but then again he was far from truly understanding any personal or cultural issues Virox was affected by. Hopefully he did not say anything offensive, because there was no Shepard around to protect him from a potential outburst.
Thankfully Virox simply closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh. If he was annoyed, he did not show any more signs after that. "At 15 years old. My own implanting got delayed by... external factors."
Garrus gave him a silent nod and decided to not push the issue, as the message was pretty clear. Whatever caused Virox to receive his implants later was obviously an unpleasant memory that he preferred not to recall.
Both of them stayed quiet for the moment. Garrus felt the need to do something with his hands, but having just finished calibrations, it would have looked silly for him to just go back to them less than five minutes later. Thus he was left with twiddling his thumbs and hoping that something would happen or that Shepard would come in and save him from the boredom. Come to think of it, she was coming down here way more often than before, and not just because of Virox. He increasingly found himself struggling to describe the feeling that accompanied him every time she visited. It was definitely something beyond respect and simple camaraderie. But to call it just friendship... it still didn't feel good enough.
Shockingly, it was Virox that broke the silence this time. "What is the Turian Hierarchy's stance on Cerberus?"
That... came out of nowhere. Then again I guess it's a valid question. Garrus mused, as he thought up an answer. "You mean about them being terrorists and all? Yeah, we're not on the best of terms. Several small attacks, plus an assassination of one of our politicians a few years ago. He was a xenophobic bigot, true, but it was still murder."
"And you're not concerned about them finding out you worked for them?" Virox asked. His insectoid 'face' was still hard to read. "I'm assuming you're not joining Cerberus permanently of course."
"I would not say that I work 'for Cerberus'." Garrus forced a weak smile onto his face. "If they ask me, I'll say that I worked WITH a human Spectre that saved the Citadel from a geth attack two years ago, and I'm doing it in order to protect human colonies in the Traverse and Terminus Systems from the Collectors."
"And you think they'll buy it?" The carvin asked, still unconvinced.
"Well, if I try hard enough, they will. And when the Reapers arrive they won't have much choice anyway." Garrus shrugged. "Why? You're worried about what your own people think about what we're doing?"
"I'm here on the orders of my superiors. If they had any objections to me being sent here, I wouldn't be here in the first place." The carvin looked up at the ceiling, visibly in a deep thought, but Garrus could make out a semblance of uneasiness. "But... yes. I don't think they would approve of all of the actions we... I had been a part of."
"You can always try to bullshit your way out of it." Garrus suggested. "And if your superiors actually chose you for this assignment, then it's clear they value your abilities. They wouldn't just discard you."
Virox's expression suddenly soured. His jaws dropped down, as if they suddenly gained weight, and his eyes that were mostly wide open before were now mostly closed, revealing only a tiny bit of his pale blue irises. Seemed that he did not share Garrus' optimism, which made the turian wonder if the Carvin Empire was really that similar to the Hierarchy. A few Council news outlets seemed to think so, but from the scattered interactions he had with Virox, and the careful reading of news articles, Garrus could discern that even if there was some overlap, Carvin Empire was significantly more ruthless and strict in how it approached internal matters, especially those of both external and internal security. That would actually explain why Virox was so slow to open up.
The carvin did not drop his somber expression, however, to Garrus' surprise, he decided to ask yet another question. "Why did you end up with Shepard?"
Garrus blinked several times, trying to make sure he understood correctly what the Virox was saying. Not only was he asking a second relatively deep question within the same conversation, but one relating to Garrus himself on a quite personal level. Tuchanka must have been a place of some grand spiritual awakening for him, since he was becoming increasingly unrecognizable.
"Uh... we met after the geth attack on Eden Prime. Before Shepard, well... died." Garrus said, wondering where to actually begin the story. It was after all an adventure of epic proportions if one thought about it. "I was working at C-Sec at the time, and I caught wind of a rogue turian Spectre being involved in an attack on that human colo-"
"I didn't ask how it happened." Virox interrupted calmly yet sternly. "I want to know WHY you joined Shepard's crew. The Normandy was a human ship, and your people have gone to war with the humans quite recently. So why?"
Slightly taken aback by Virox's interruption, and amused by him bringing up Shanxi, Garrus pondered the question more carefully this time. Clearly Virox had some time to think about his own commitment to the mission, and there was nothing wrong with wanting to know if his comrades on the team shared his convictions.
And, contrary to what some would think at first glance, Garrus' decision to join Shepard back in 2183 wasn't obvious, or done on a whim. Garrus did have a respectable job at the time, even if there was an enormous mass of red tape and arbitrary regulations in the way of him doing it properly. It was his own the desire to do good in a not-so-good galaxy that prompted him to yearn for new means of fighting injustice. However, had it not been for Shepard's confidence, daring, determination, and her ability to inspire... Garrus wondered if he would ever have left C-Sec, had it been someone of a lesser quality that led the charge against Saren.
"I wanted to help people. I wasn't satisfied with how ineffective C-Sec was." He finally answered, trying his best to accurately convey his thoughts. "Shepard had that aura, that powerful presence, which could make people believe in success. We both wanted the same thing - to bring Saren to justice and save the innocents. After a while I learned to trust her. She was always dead set on completing the mission, but she never forgot about us. That experience was actually the reason I started my own team on Omega."
The recent, slowly healing wound of Sidonis' betrayal resurfaced once again. This time though he only felt a dull, pulsating stinging in his heart, not the all-consuming fire of hatred he was used to before. His resolution of that particular matter wasn't perfect, a part of him still wanted Sidonis dead. But he would not let those memories drag him down, he was better than that. And it was thanks to Shepard that he realized it.
Virox looked like he was about to comment on his statement, but before he could do so, a female synthetic voice rang throughout the room.
"Virox. I am receiving a high-priority encrypted carvin transmission intended for you. Shepard permitted for me to lower our firewalls to establish a connection." EDI said, as her hologram appeared on the terminal next to them. She had gotten significantly better at emotion emulation with her voice, though she still retained that robotic way of speaking.
The carvin stiffened ever so slightly, but Garrus' trained eyes of a sniper noticed the change. It was neither a posture of confidence, nor of hostility. One couldn't even consider it indifference. Was it... fear?
If it was, Virox adjusted himself quickly, once again taking an appearance of an emotionless professional. "Understood."
His omni-tool flashed shortly after his response, and Virox activated it, prompting a holographic overlay to appear on his eyes. Garrus glanced at this peculiar sight, as before this point he was absolutely sure that Virox's eyes were organic. Now he found himself questioning whether his sight was actually as good as he thought.
No, it's an augmented lens system with a built-in HUD. He corrected himself, marveling at the way the lens were seamlessly set on Virox's large eyeballs, and how their internal systems were so minuscule that he had never noticed that before.
Meanwhile Virox stood motionless, listening to a faintly audible voice from his earpiece, occasionally giving a brief reply in a dialect or language that Garrus' translator did not recognize. It was not the first time this happened, but the first when Garrus acknowledged that the carvin could speak in a manner that allowed him some privacy.
The conversation didn't take long, less than a minute in fact, after which Virox disabled the holographic display in his lenses, though kept the omni-tool activated. Behind his professional facade, Garrus saw that the carvin became more relaxed. The news must have been good.
"EDI, Frontier Naval Command wishes to speak with Commander Shepard." Virox said, glancing at the AI terminal at his side.
"Understood, I shall call the Commander immediately." EDI replied, but Virox shook his head.
"It's for her ears only. I have no clearance for further information." He specified. " I can relay it to her private quarters with your help and permission."
There was an unusually long delay before EDI gave a response. Perhaps she was asking Shepard for permission, no one could know for certain. Nonetheless, when she finally did give an answer, it was a positive one. "Very well. I shall relay the transmission to her quarters. You will be needed to maintain connection, since I do not possess the decryption keys to decode this particular type of data transfer effectively. Do not interrupt the connection until the Commander ends it herself."
With that, her hologram disappeared, leaving the two of them alone once again. It was hard to discern what Virox was thinking. The stiffened posture was gone, replaced by something else that Garrus couldn't recognize.
"Bad news?" He tried to break the silence.
"From a certain point of view." Virox cryptically replied. "I only got the overview. Shepard will get the rest."
"You'll be going out?" Garrus asked.
"Maybe." He shrugged, before leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. His omni-tool switched to a low-power mode, periodically emitting weak pulses of light, an indication that it was still relaying the transmission. "Depends on what Shepard decides."
Garrus let out a chuckle. Another aspect that he saw transformed in the carvin - obeying Shepard's orders. An outside observer would claim that he was always obedient, but not like this. Right now Garrus saw that whatever decision Shepard would make, Virox would accept it not only due to their commander-subordinate relationship, but also because of growing trust he had for her.
Guess you're going through this phase too. He mused with a smile, before the urge became too strong and he once again turned on the calibration software.
Old habits die hard.
Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System
Normandy SR-2, Deck 1, Captain's Cabin
1002 Local Time, June 25th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
To be perfectly honest, when Shepard heard that the Carvin Empire was trying to contact her through Virox, she half-expected an update on her teammate's legal status and any potential punishment he would face for his 'misconduct'. Those were the vibes that she got from the inspector guy that talked to her before. So when Virox relayed the transmission to her quarters, she was just slightly taken aback that she was speaking to an officer from a completely different branch, as indicated by his attire and general demeanor. He was stoic, yet dignified, wearing a dark grey carvin equivalent of a suit, with a long, thin LED light woven into the fabric, which ran from the lower part of his left shoulder half-way down to the waist. The ribbons on his chest were more colorful and numerous than the previous guy's, indicating higher rank too.
"Commander Shepard." The individual spoke clearly and softly, though without much emotion, indicating a professional attitude. "As with the previous transmission, can I safely assume that this conversation is being monitored?"
"Unfortunately." Shepard truthfully replied, trying to sound empathetic. "I don't believe we had the pleasure."
"Xol-Irix Vu'Taan, though given our extensive differences in vocalization abilities, Xol-Irix is acceptable." Carvin replied, and Shepard already knew that she liked this guy more than the previous one. "The closest equivalent of my rank in your culture would be a 'commodore', though I believe that said rank is not in use within the Alliance Navy anymore."
Okay, now she was really won over. The guy had much higher standards of courtesy, so trying to not scare him away, she answered equally cordially. "It originated from the old wet-navy ranking system. It's still used to some capacity within the remaining formations of said wet-navies, but yes, it has been mostly retired from use."
"I see. However unfortunately a discussion about ancient military ranking system is not the reason I am talking to you." Xol-Irix said, before straightening up slightly more and putting his hands behind his back. "I am contacting you on behalf of the Naval Command of the Frontier Sector of the Carvin Empire to request assistance from you and your vessel."
That was... surprising. In the past carvins either requested updates on the Collector hunt, or they offered help themselves by sending Virox as their liaison to the Normandy. They weren't the type of people to request assistance with matters they could deal with effectively by themselves. If they were asking for help directly, something quite serious must have happened.
"I'm listening." Shepard nodded, gesturing at the carvin to continue.
Xol-Irix's image disappeared, being replaced instead by darkness. Not just a blank screen, the holographic display on her monitor literally turned black for a moment, and only after a few seconds the image became more detailed. Much to her amazement, Shepard slowly realized that she was now looking at an image of not one, not two, but five black holes in a close proximity, some larger than the others. Never in her life did she know that something like this could exist naturally, and yet there it was. Still, the sight left her with more questions than answers.
"Before humans were discovered by the galactic community, Carvin Empire had been engaged in both active and passive secret study of sentient alien life. We have established many listening posts and secret observation stations in order to acquire as much intel and data as possible, so as to start off from an advantageous position once we decided to reveal ourselves." Xol-Irix said off-screen, and the image once again changed, this time to a top-down view of the system, with several outlines and labels for various entities present within the strange collection of celestial bodies. "This system, which had received a boring and scientific designation in the past, is what Imperial administration refers to as 'The Great Wound' - a collection of black holes within the Nemean Abyss, one that some of our scientists believe may be responsible for the region's abundance of element zero."
It was then that Shepard noticed that one of the labels pointed at something IN BETWEEN the black holes, as opposed to one of the holes themselves, a small object, barely a speck on the screen that she wouldn't have seen if not for the label. The camera then zoomed precisely towards the dot, revealing something peculiar - a space station unlike anything she'd ever seen. How that thing was built or even put into the position it was in was a mystery.
"This is one of our aforementioned installations. It served as a listening post in the past, but was converted into an eezo and dark energy research facility, while serving a secondary function of a... comm buoy equivalent, bouncing military data traffic between the far-stretching Frontier and our more established infrastructure within the core of our Empire." Commodore explained, and Shepard was expecting an incoming 'but' any moment now, which would finally make him explain why they needed her help. "At least it was until three days ago."
Bingo She mentally sighed, being all too accustomed to these sorts of requests for help. Granted, the carvins were the only government (besides maybe the Alliance) that took the disappearances of the human colonies moderately seriously, so she was willing to give them the benefit of doubt. "And that's where I come in, correct?"
Xol-Irix reappeared on the screen without acknowledgement, however his body language gave a clear answer. "A small group of ships was sent to investigate shortly after the facility has gone dark. They too did not report in and as of this moment are presumed lost. Given the limited information we possess, Frontier Naval Command suspects that the perpetrators may have been the Collectors."
Shepard stared at the commodore in blatant surprise. The Collectors? Attacking the carvins? Even if on the surface the suspicion was sound, she was certain that they weren't the answer. They had no motivation, as their main target were exclusively human colonies. Why would they focus on the carvins now? Why not before? It did not make sense, given what she knew about them, and had seen them do. Unless...
When she was just about to discard the theory entirely, Shepard looked back at her escapade to the Collector ship. How Virox was acting, not only during the mission, but most importantly, after. How he stared at the Collector's corpse in the lab, oblivious to the fact that both she and Garrus saw him do it. A few days after they acquired the data he was irritable, uneasy, always on edge. Had the Collectors done something to him? Or perhaps they had seen something in him that warranted their attention? Suddenly the theory that she was so eager to outright dismiss became just a bit more plausible.
The commodore must have noticed her conflicted expression, because he quickly specified. "We have chosen the Normandy since it is the only known vessel to have survived an encounter with the Collector Ship. We trust your abilities. If you reach the system and find nothing of note, it is fine. Given the facility's location, there may not even be a way for you to investigate it in person."
"Fair point." She admitted, though her gut feeling warned her that she wouldn't be so lucky. "Send me the coordinates and I'll depart as soon as I am able."
"Beginning transfer... You should receive the coordinates momentarily." Xol-Irix said, and reached for something off-screen, before promptly returning his hand. "Keep in mind that The Great Wound is not as close to the nearest Mass Relay as the other mapped systems within the Nemean Abyss, so a sizeable fuel expenditure will be required. We wish for your quick success."
"Much appreciated." Shepard thanked the commodore and was about to terminate the connection, when suddenly Xol-Irix's image flickered furiously, before being engulfed in static and accompanied by something akin to white noise. "Uh... EDI? Did something happen?"
"No, the connection is maintained properly." The AI promptly replied. "Whatever is causing this disruption comes from the carvin side."
Before they could debate the matter however, the static cleared up slightly, revealing a badly corrupted, yet still distinct enough image of a carvin. It was impossible to determine who it was, only that they were carvin (which did not help much anyway, since they all looked the same to her, with the clothes being the main means of distinction). After a few seconds, a corrupted and heavily modulated carvin voice came through the speakers.
"Commander Shepard. After *static* have acquired the information about the facility's blackout, report *static* Osun system." The voice said, though through all the static it was increasingly difficult for her translator to discern the meaning of the words being spoken. "And should it come to a confrontation, *static* trust the Ravashir. Again, do not trust *static* Ravashir."
The transmission then ended abruptly, leaving nothing but a blank holographic display for Shepard to stare at, and leaving her with more questions than answers. Who was this person? Was it the commodore, trying to tell her something secretly? Or was it someone else entirely that tried to warn her about... what was the name again? Ravashir? Shepard had no idea who or what Ravashir was, but figured it had something to do with the carvins. That or someone knew what was awaiting her in The Great Wound. Either option did not fill her with confidence.
"EDI? Could you try to clear the message up? Maybe get through the scrambling?" She asked, hoping that a more in-depth analysis would shed some light on what the hell just happened.
"Unfortunately, no. It appears that the last part of the transmission was actually a recording, formatted and compressed properly AFTER being scrambled." EDI replied. "I can try to reconstruct the actual image to the best of my abilities."
"Do it." Shepard ordered, and the AI got to work.
Taking various elements from the static, she quickly began rearranging the unscrambled bits and placing them where they would fit within the reconstruction. However it was clear that whoever did the scrambling was very skilled at their job, since the final image was still equally messy, with many spots either left blank by EDI, or filled with bits and pixels that did not fully fit within the composition. Thus the identity of the mysterious carvin remained just as concealed to them as it was before.
"This is the most optimal result I can achieve under the circumstances." EDI reported after she finished the restoration. "I could try sampling the encryption and scrambling software from Virox's omni-tool for future ref-"
"Let's not do that." Shepard quickly interjected, remembering the 'Virox and the Bug' incident (there's a name for the next children's horror movie).
"Understood. I have also made an interesting observation." EDI said. "The precise manner with which the video is scrambled suggests that it has not been done by an organic."
This in and of itself wasn't surprising to Shepard. "I don't think anyone worth their time and money is doing encryption or scrambling by themselves. A VI is much better and cost-effective."
"Yes, however VI's are still written and programmed by organics, thereby retaining flaws inherent in their manually written code. Flaws that can be observed and exploited." EDI explained. "The sophistication with which this file was disrupted, all the while still being mostly understandable, indicates the work of a well-developed Artificial Intelligence."
Now this was new. Carvins were in possession of advanced AI's? Whenever Shepard thought that they couldn't surprise her anymore, they once more proved her wrong. Then again, in this particular instance it made perfect sense. AI's were always very important assets, as their abilities had a powerful effect on the advancement of any field they were employed in, so it was no wonder that the Carvin Empire was interested in their development. And since up until recently they weren't restricted by the Council laws in any capacity, it stands to reason that their research into new and more powerful AI's would be far more extensive without the red tape hampering them. Hopefully they weren't about to follow in the footsteps of the 'geth', there was too much trouble in the galaxy already.
"Well then, watch out for any signs of activity from these carvin AIs. Also tell Joker to punch in the coordinates we received from the commodore. We're moving out shortly." Shepard ordered, briefly thinking of who would be the best choice to accompany her into the potentially damaged facility. "And tell Virox and Tali to prepare themselves, I'll be taking them down there if there'll be anything left for us to investigate."
"At once, Commander." EDI replied, before vanishing from the terminal on Shepard's desk.
Virox was the obvious choice. After all, they were flying into a carvin-controlled system (in theory), and if they did actually end up inside the station, his familiarity with the equipment and systems of carvin machinery would have been useful. Privately, Shepard also thought that his presence during the operation would put him in good graces with his superiors, or at the very least make him think that it would. She knew how powerful he was, and having him fully committed to their mission of stopping the Collectors could significantly bolster the power of their team.
The choice to bring Tali on the other hand was slightly more nuanced. On one hand she could be quite vulnerable in combat, given that her quarian physiology and the light armor of her suit made her quite squishy (not like that... well that too, but that wasn't important in this context). But on the other hand, if they would investigate the facility at all, Shepard and Virox would do the tanking, and letting Tali support them with her tech abilities. That, and her technical skills might prove useful within the station that (assuming it was intact at all) was likely severely damaged. Shepard also thought that giving Tali an opportunity to once again prove herself in the field would boost her confidence after it was damaged during her trial back in the Migrant Fleet.
She sighed, as she pushed her lingering thoughts and doubts far away from the forefront of her mind. The fact that she had to consciously do this wasn't a good sign. Sometimes she wished for an easy and decisive victory from time to time. One that would boost the morale of her team, and give her confidence to carry on with an even greater conviction than before. But life wasn't that simple, especially her life. She would prepare her team the best she could to face off against the Collectors.
The only way she knew how.
Argos Rho, Phoenix System
Intai'sei, Thoreau Mesa, Governor's Mansion
2339 Local Time, June 25th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
Zayan Te'Kraan was pleased with the direction of the ongoing negotiations. Over the last week several smaller matters have begun to be resolved. An agreement regarding the flow of goods from the carvin-controlled parts of the Terminus Systems into Council entrepots (primarily Illium) was almost completely finalized, the means for a more permanent line of communication between the Council and the Empire were created (a stepping stone on the path of obtaining an embassy on the Citadel), and plans for future cultural exchanges for various interested races have been drawn up. All in all, successes across the board.
And that did not even mention the silent subversion of the Council security architecture they managed to accomplish. Zayan personally held private talks and negotiations with several representatives, mostly from minor associate members who had jumped at the opportunity to increase their species' relevance in galactic politics, and together they discussed the potential alternatives to the Treaty of Farixen. This of course left the Council Old Guard absolutely furious and, more importantly, frightened. So much so that a few of his aides have reported to him that apparently both humans and salarians began pressuring the Turian Hierarchy to backtrack and recognize the interpretation of the Treaty of Farixen in the same manner they did when the Alliance was making its bid to join the galactic community, in an effort to at least partially stem the downfall of the system that preserved their continued military dominance.
Zayan thoroughly enjoyed their reaction, as they wriggled and scrambled to save the galactic order they worked so hard to create collapse they wrought upon themselves. It was nice having the diplomatic initiative for a change. Before this conference, it was he who needed to make appointments with the Citadel Council and fruitlessly battle them from a disadvantageous position. Now it was the Empire that dictated the rules of engagement, allowed those who would wish to speak to them to do so on its own conditions. It wasn't all perfect, and it was light-years away from what Zayan's more optimistic part of his mind wished for, but it was the far cry from the shit show like on the Citadel a year ago.
"We have received a confirmation from the volus delegation. Integration of the Empire's banking system into the wider galactic economy can begin after the conference has concluded." One of his aides reported. Her head did not even flinch when she passed the information, and her eyes remained glued to her personal computer.
"Good, send the word to the Ministry of Finance to make the necessary preparation. We need to link our currency to the galactic credit as soon as the integration is able to commence." Zayan ordered.
"Sir, the Illuminated Primacy wants to once again delay the talks regarding access to Prothean artifacts and ruins." Another assistant said, his voice betraying uneasiness and worry.
Zayan sighed and rolled his eyes in slight disappointment. The stupid jellyfish were giving him a surprising amount of headache given the meager threat they posed. "Tell them they can't stall forever. Be firm and decisive, but don't come off as too strong. They worship protheans and so they will want to get their tentacles on anything Prothean we may find. Don't assume defeat if they don't commit immediately. And let me see the reply draft before you send it."
"Will do, sir." The young man promptly replied, though the shaking in his voice hardly stopped.
This was one of the few significant weaknesses that his delegation had - a shortage of skilled diplomatic staff. No matter how good Zayan was in comparison to his brethren when it came to conducting diplomacy with aliens, he was just one man. The bulk of negotiations have been carried out by him personally, or under his direct supervision. The Empire wasn't completely to blame for this, as Zayan had on multiple occasions dismissed individual members of his delegation, and once even demanded a brand new team entirely. His current staff was looking promising, true, but they still lacked the skills and, more importantly, confidence to conduct negotiations by themselves. And since there was no time to teach them without jeopardizing the conference, they were mostly relegated to the roles of Zayan's personal secretaries, while the most promising individuals were allowed to briefly speak up during low priority meetings.
Right now their delegation consisted of seven people - himself, his two assistants that were helping him now, a Ministry of Foreign Affairs liaison (who was at this moment operating onboard their envoy ship in orbit), an Army lieutenant acting as their security detail, and finally two members of the Ravashir (a high ranking commissar and his subordinate). The last two had been increasingly restless with regards to Zayan's work during the conference, and on the surface there was nothing wrong with that. The Ravashir was established to ask questions, eradicate corruption, ensure that the citizens will be loyal to the Empire and vice versa. However their objections were becoming detrimental to the overall effort of their delegation. Not enough to endanger the entire endeavor, but enough to hamper their progress.
They were particularly touchy when it came to any potential concessions that Zayan was willing to make regarding the Empire's military matters and internal policy, but he had long ago realized that remaining fully autonomous from the Council will be impossible. Their long-term objective, as outlined by the High General Council, and reiterated by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, was to make the Carvin Empire a major voice on the galactic stage, with the first step towards that goal being the establishment of an Embassy on the Citadel. A compromise of some sort would have always been required to achieve this goal, but the Ravashir seemed to be opposed to the idea, if solely on principle of protecting the Empire's self-determination. Completely and utterly.
Zayan was trying to do some work on the potential framework for a New Treaty of Farixen, when the two familiar officers appeared. An old commissar, who was probably well into his hundreds when the Varsaai Insurrection took place, now likely nearing his five hundreds. Strict, ruthless, and fanatically loyal, like all the first generation members of the organization. His companion was a young (at less than a hundred years), but energetic officer, patriotic, eager, and as selfless as your average freshman working within the Imperial administration. In Zayan's eyes he was more open-minded and reasonable of the two, however he was living in the old commissar's shadow, referring to his judgement most of the time, to Zayan's minor irritation. The two of them were the third replacement batch sent from the Ravashir, after the previous two pairs requested replacement due to Zayan's 'concessionary attitude'. Both of them now stopped in front of his desk.
"Ambassador." The commissar stated, his voice devoid of any semblance of emotion. While Zayan was indeed promoted to that rank, it was a moot point to use it, since the Empire was yet to establish a single embassy on a territory of another spacefaring civilization.
Nevertheless he looked up from his desk and onto the two individuals dressed in blue and red uniforms. "Yes?"
He did not bother with formality, as from personal experience and that of the general populace, the Ravashir were not fond of entertaining the idea of small or sweet talk. They saw it as a pointless distraction at best and a potentially subversive move at worst, so being to-the-point was largely beneficial when dealing with them.
"We will need to take a look at the treaty draft you are writing right now. The Ravashir has concerns regarding its potential impact on the Empire's autonomy." The younger officer said, not even glancing at his superior. Good, it signified confidence and a lack of need to rely on his boss' authority.
Really? Is that your opinion? Or are you repeating what he told you to say? Zayan thought, but remained silent. Few had the guts to openly stand against the Ravashir, and most found it very unhealthy. Thus he quietly complied and used his omni-tool to send his work to the young officer's device. Truth be told, at that stage, these were little more than notes, preliminary solutions to the most obvious issues with the current galactic state of affairs.
"The content is still work in progress. If you have doubts or reservations about some of the points, I'll be happy to justify my position before the Ravashir and the High General Council." He replied.
"Your 'work in progress' contains propositions of military intelligence sharing between the Empire and the Council, as well as a minimum military spending target for all signatories." The old commissar said, his eyes rapidly darting through the lines of his notes. "Not to mention the other 'proposals'."
"Regarding the first point, the aim is to increase coordination between the various militaries in an effort to exterminate the disparate pirate and criminal organizations from the Traverse and the Terminus." Zayan clarified, mildly annoyed at the fact that his interlocutor either did not bother to read the full note or deliberately omitted this critical bit of information. "As for the spending target proposition, it will have no real impact on us. Our present allocation of budget to the military is on a level that most other races would find undesirable or outright unsustainable. The proposed 2 to 5 percent GDP will have the most impact on the minor races, with no actual bearing on our economy."
"And how will encouraging other races to expand their military capacity help us in the long-term?" The commissar asked, visibly unconvinced.
"By damaging Turian Hierarchy's influence, which stems from being the prime security guarantor in the Council space. Once the minor players possess the capacity to defend themselves in what is a relatively peaceful region of the galaxy anyway, they will be less likely to accept turian political pressure." Zayan explained. "And most of them do not have a well-developed military industrial complex, so they will have to get their equipment from somewhere. The Empire was already interested in the development of both a merchant marine and a military force capable of operating with the use of Mass Relays. This might be an opportunity to enter the Citadel armaments market, since our technology and equipment is in high demand."
The younger Ravashir officer slammed his fist at Zayan's desk in anger, startling the two assistants who were working next to him. "You would sell out our technology to the aliens!?"
His aides glanced at the scene with expressions of uncertainty. While Zayan had managed to develop ways to deal with the Ravashir, they had not, and it was fully understandable why they were nervous. The Ravashir were usually not this forgiving, and if this sort of things happened back in the Empire, he and his assistants would have been dead or worse long ago.
"Get back to work. I want a status report by the time I'm back." Zayan gave the order to his subordinates, who both gave him a silent nod each. Then he stood up and gestured at the two officers. "And you... let's discuss this in private."
This was not a request, it was an order - one that he was within his authority to give, even if it pissed the officers off, as evident by their silent growls and mutterings. Nonetheless they complied, and all three of them left the room. The Governor's mansion was large enough to accommodate all the delegations, while retaining privacy for them. The hallways were not as safe as their designated sleeping rooms and work areas, but considering that it was already late into the night, one could hardly expect much spying from anyone except maybe the salarians. Then again, one could always expect spying from the salarians.
When he was confident that his aides could not hear them speak, Zayan referred to the younger officer in caranogri. "Do you believe that my approach to negotiations is flawed?"
"...Yes, Ambassador. You are too meek and soft on the aliens. It is common sense to attack the enemy hard and fast when he's weak." The young man replied after a brief moment of hesitation, though he dutifully switched the language on the fly.
Zayan stifled a grunt of annoyance. His hand was increasingly itching to slap the brat back into his senses, but he knew it wouldn't work, not on the fanatically loyal Ravashir. Instead he asked him. "And what sort of experience in the field of interspecies diplomacy do you possess that makes you qualified to pass such a judgement with such level of absolute."
"...None." The officer sheepishly answered.
"Then let those more experienced do their job and don't interfere. You treat this matter akin to a conventional military conflict when it is anything but." Zayan said, trying to be as stern as possible without sounding angry. "If you really need a tangible example, once corner a pack of wild animals, they will become infinitely more dangerous. I'm trying to sow disunity within the Council front and prevent them from forming a unified political bloc that could pose a threat to the Empire."
"You are not immune to misjudgments, Ambassador." The older commissar joined in, sending him a hostile glare of barely contained hatred. "You cannot hide behind the High Generals every time."
"Do you believe they too have misjudged the situation by appointing me to this position." Zayan asked, subtly challenging the old veteran to expose where his loyalties lie.
"They are not omniscient either, and are still capable of treason. It is one of the main reasons the Ravashir was established in the first place." He skillfully answered, not committing himself to neither treacherous nor loyalist stance, but leaving the window to choose either.
"Then take it up with them and ask them to replace me, preferably once you have a suitable candidate to fill my position." Zayan retorted sarcastically, thoroughly enjoying the angry grimace of the commissar. He knew that no matter how hard one looked, at this moment there was no one good enough in the Empire to replace him. "Also if you're trying to compare all the current High Generals to the traitorous Ravin Le'Kraan... then it seems your own judgement has some issues as well. I sincerely doubt that all of them would conspire against the citizens of the Empire and sell them out to the aliens."
The veteran scowled, though said nothing, as he clearly had no suitable counterargument. Instead he growled at his subordinate, signaling him to follow, and both of them walked away to their dorms, their metallic legs sent dull echoes throughout the relatively narrow corridors of the mansion with every step. Zayan looked after them, as they vanished behind the nearest corner, and contemplated the encounter.
No matter how he looked at it, he was confident that the Ravashir were never as bold or openly opposed to his efforts as they were just now. They were willing to question or even outright threaten action against the High General Council, a move that on paper was within the realm of possibility, but after the Varsaain Insurrection was never legitimately considered. And the fact that it changed so suddenly was worrying. If the first contact with new sentient alien life was causing one of the most influential and powerful institutions within the Empire to consider such traitorous actions, the Empire was on the brink of another Insurrection. The Ravashir had to be put down hard and fast.
Zayan subtly warned the High General Council numerous times about the concerning behaviors of the officers and commissars sent to accompany the delegation, however, aside from the repeated rotations, the Council had assured him that everything was under control. After today's events though, he had no choice but to address the matter directly and openly. His good conscience as an Imperial citizen prevented him from staying silent.
He quietly went back to his room and searched his luggage for a familiar briefcase-like object - the portable QEC which connected him to the High General Council. While the item itself had received several upgrades so as to make it less conspicuous under the circumstances, Zayan cared little for such trifles at the moment. He opened the box and turned on the device inside, waiting for the QEC to activate properly and, after a brief moment of hesitation, he sent a request for contact.
They needed to know that the Empire was in grave danger.
A/N: Okay, done for now. Next we'll be moving into Virox's loyalty mission, which I'll probably split into two separate chapters. The Ravashir plot will also be partially woven into these chapters, though I'm planning to give it a dedicated arc after this upcoming one. But enough about that, lest I start spoiling too much. Cheers!