Miranda watched as the cryogenic casket was loaded onto the freighter. She could only feel numbness.
Officially, the UNSC Spartan Corps had both her and Jak listed as 'Missing In Action': the default reporting status for Spartan II's and III's lost in the line of duty. Unofficially, she knew the ISA had somehow learned about her association with, and functional defection to Jack Harper's Cerberus group. She had her suspicions as to how, but there was no going back at this point.
She'd made her bed, and she'd sleep in it.
That didn't dull the ache at her own betrayal of Jak. The Biotic Spartan had been a towering pillar of rage, once her armor had been unlocked. Two of Aria's lackeys and five Cerberus troopers had been reduced to finger paint before her armor was locked down again.
Eventually, Jack had decided to simply starve her out until she could be safely handled.
Now, Miri watched as the little girl who used to look at her in defiance and respect was loaded onto an alien freighter, bound for parts unknown.
She smelled Ja... The Illusive Man coming well before he came up to her. "Don't worry Miranda. My people on Pragia are the best there are at working with Biotics. They'll get her straightened out."
Miri didn't bother to glance at him. "I somehow doubt that. I trained Jak; she won't simply roll over, or sit on a couch and 'share her feelings'."
The stink of TIM's cigarette filled the air. "Then we'll send her to the Purgatory facility until we can find an adequate workaround."
Miranda spun around at that. "That Alien Gulag!"
"No, my alien gulag. It's run by the Blue Suns, who are controlled by Aria, who is controlled by me." He waved off Miri's borderline rage with a cloud of smoke. "Besides, that's only a last resort if my people can't work their magic.
"Now come on," TIM turned around and walked deeper into Omega, "now that you're free from your UNSC obligations, I have some projects I need looking at. Specifically this business with the Omega Relay, and the phantom ships that keep slipping through it."
Miranda spared one last backwards glance at the undocking freighter, before reluctantly following her new master.
...
Secretary General Hameed sighed as she looked over her current list of meetings.
One more week, then retirement, she mentally reminded herself as she keyed the desk intercom. "Send them in."
She settled back in her chair as Terrance Hood and Donnel Udina walked in. "Gentlemen, have a seat. I understand there's been a new development on the Citadel front?"
"Of a sort," Donnel's eyes flashed as he transferred a small file to her. "The Citadel Council is requesting we consider reopening the Officer Exchange program." There was none of his usual smarm.
Aisha arced an eyebrow as she considered the two old men infront of her. "Have they now? I'd be inclined to agree out of hand, but the timing is more than a little suspect."
Admiral Hood shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he spoke, "It is, but so is some of the intel we've received from them; intel they secured while observing us."
Aisha's eyes snapped to Udina, who picked up from there. "They apparently have a new stealth ship; one my people failed to spot. My agency thinks this is Quid Pro Quo: we see some of their modernized hardware, and they see some of ours."
The Secretary General steepled her hands in thought as she looked at the two. "As much as I'd like to just wave this off and leave it for Doctor Charet to deal with," she glanced longingly at a small box of personal effects she had ready to be sent home, "I doubt Ruth would ever let me live it down if I didn't do my due diligence up to the last minute."
She huffed a sigh, and set her hands back on the desk. "Do either of you have any overt objections?" She nodded when neither one spoke up. "Fine. We sent, what; a Naval Officer last time?"
"Yes ma'am," Hood's eyes flashed as he accessed the old files, "Commander Pressley, back when he was newly commissioned."
She nodded. "I won't presume to tread on your judgment, but maybe send someone with a different background, for a different perspective."
Hood and Udina glanced at one another. "One of our veteran Spartans? Both Jane B-183 and Kaiden E-002 were on Elysium during Haliat's Blitz, so they both have some direct experience with Citadel hardware."
"Jane," Hood all but barked out, "I don't want to send any of our Special Company Spartans out of UTSG controlled space; at least, not until we get the S-IV Corps trained up."
Aisha Sat back and considered the option. "That shouldn't take too long, should it? All the Spartan IV candidates are prior military, so it's just a matter of learning the new hardware."
Udina gave a wry chuckle. "You'd think so, but we're learning otherwise. Between the augmentations and gene therapy, it's like a second puberty for them. The training annex at Sword Base feels more like a Highschool cafeteria than a military post: all awkward gangly limbs and surging hormones."
Terrance was less amused. "We've pulled several active Spartan II's and Alpha Battalion Spartan III's out of the field, including all of Blue and Nobel Teams, to bolster the training cadre. What's left of Bravo, and all of Charlie Battalions are picking up the slack, but with our systems closed to Covenant incursion our Spartan losses have dropped to almost zero. We should be able to begin rotating Spartan IV's into the field after one year."
Aisha waited for a moment to see if either of the two had anything more to add. "It sounds as if the absence of a single Spartan III will not have a detrimental impact on field operations. Is that correct?"
"The Spartan, yes," Hood shifted in his seat, "but not her AI partner. Ogier will need to be reassigned, if for no other reasons than to not overly alienate the Citadel to this plan."
Donnel gave him a mildly cross look. "It's their plan."
"And we stand to benefit from it," Aisha held up a hand to Udina. "I know you would love to imbed an AI asset in the Citadel. I also know you have made a particularly contentious personnel request for the Sword Base Training center. Drop the AI subject, and I'll see about transferring Halsey to Reach."
Hood frowned as Udina smiled and stood up. "I can accept that compromise. Doctors Lawson and Cole have done wonders with the program during Catherine's... sabbatical; but their feud has impacted the S-III program's progress. Say what you will about her Ethics, but Doctor Halsey worked miracles with the S-II program." He nodded to the other two in the room before turning to leave. "Maybe we can recapture some of that lightning with the S-IV program."
...
Matriarch Aethyta was mixing up a drink she had learned while slumming on Tortuga a decade ago. Nearly a thousand years in the galaxy, and I never would have imagined something like this Manhattan Iced Tea would be this popular.
Or maybe it's just the novelty of it, she thought as she passed the light brown iced concoction to the awaiting Batarian's hand.
She nearly dropped the glass at who she saw approaching her bar.
"Well as I live and breathe. Benni," she relished the minor scowl that crossed Matriarch Benezia's features at the casual term of endearment. "What brings you down from the lofty heights of power to mingle with the common folk? If you can wait ten minutes, I can turn the bar over and pour a drink."
"You know quite well that I do not partake of such vulgar indulgences," the severe Matriarch retorted tartly.
"Oh, I know," Aethyta gave Benezia a calculating look. "It's for me, cause I just know this is going to be a two drink minimum conversation."
Twelve minutes, and one and a half Mai Tais later, the two Matriarchs sat in a secluded booth.
"You had some pretty strong opinions about me the last time we spoke, Benni." Aethyta lounged back and savored her drink. "So my question stands: what brings you here, now?"
Benezia didn't hesitate. "The humans, and the fate of the Citadel Alliance." She waited for a moment to gauge her fellow Matriarch's reaction, but there was none beyond another languid sip. "The Council has proposed reopening the 'Officer Exchange Program' with the UTSG. Obviously, the Hierarchy wants to send another of their officers. However, there is a small concern at how," Benezia seemed to struggle to find an adequate word, "seductive the UNSC seems to be towards our more militant members."
Aethyta snorted into her half empty glass. "I seem to remember it was my own militancy that led to my current choice of life."
Benezia pursed her lips in distaste. "Quite. However, this means you have the best chance to emotionally and culturally connect with the Humans, while it is your," she raked her eyes over her former lover, "maturity, which will afford you the best chance of not being mesmerized by romantic ideals."
Aethyta sat up and put the drink down. "You're not here to discuss plans about who to send; you're trying to recruit me!"
"I am."
Aethyta squinted at the Matriarch across from her, then retrieved her drink. "Why?"
"Because of everything I have already said: the Turians are enamored of a fellow 'Soldier Society', and the Salarians are likely to get themselves thrown out of UTSG space for espionage. That leaves the Elcor, the Volus, the Batarians, and us."
"And we can rule the Volus and Elcor out on pure logistics," Aethyta huffed and sipped her drink. "The Batarians are still resentful over being denied the Skyllian Verge, and I doubt the Humans' ire over Elysium has passed, despite what they did at Torfan. So that leaves us, but still doesn't answer my question: why me?"
Benezia pursed her lips in mild distaste. "A Maiden would likely be just as enamored as a Turian, while a Matron would be inclined to build political status and advantage like a Salarian. We need to send someone with a military background for obvious reasons; they need to be Cynical enough not to be swayed by romanticized ideals, and mature enough not to endanger the mission with political avarice. That means a Matriarch. That means you."
"Right," Aethyta slouched back in her seat, "and all this has nothing to do with my looking in on Little Wing."
"You were asked--" Benezia froze as a focused wave of distorted gravity nearly threw her off the balcony.
"You demanded that I stay away while you raised her. Well now she's all grown up, about to embark on her career as an Archeologist, and I have the right to see my daughter!
"So here's my deal, Benni," she relished her former lover's discomfort, "I'll play your little game; but when I get back, the first thing I'm going to do is introduce myself to Liara. You will not interfere. Are we agreed?"
Matriarch T'Soni hesitated for a moment, then nodded. She stood and brushed her dress once the pressure let up. "Report to Matriarch L'Danya at your earliest possible convenience; she will make the arrangements. If you will excuse me," she primly turned and walked to the door, "our Councilor has asked me to look into a matter of grave political concern."
"Best be on your way then Benni; wouldn't want to keep Specter Arteruis waiting."
The seated Matriarch watched her old flame, the mother of her daughter, freeze in place for a moment, then stalk out of her bar. Once the door closed behind her, Aethyta polished off her drink. "Stuck up bitch."
Whelp, she levered herself out of the chair, better get packing.
...
Saren writhed in an ecstatic, breathless eternity.
For so long, he had sought to mold the Hanar into his Bright-Talon; the weapon he would poise at the throat of the Citadel's true enemies, Humanity. And it seemed to have worked. Their faith in the righteousness of the Enkindlers had made poisoning their opinion of the UTSG almost childishly simple. With every passing year, they had become more and more convinced that humanity as a whole were a blight on the Galaxy.
With the reinstatement of the ill-advised 'Officer Exchange', he'd felt it prudent to give them one more push. That had been when Regards the Works of the Enkindlers in Despair had invited him to, 'become part of the Truth of the Enkindlers'.
Saren had assumed it was simply another of the Hanar's many mystery Cults, as they descended into the depths of Khaje's ocean. What greeted him in those lightless depths was a mystery, and a terror and a wonder beyond his wildest imaginings.
It called itself Sovereign, and so it was: lordly and titanic beyond words, a living machine, with a power that could easily rival that of the greatest of UNSC warships.
It showed him the truth: about the Citadel, about the Protheans, and about a war of unimaginable scale and consequence eons before the first plants evolved on Palaven.
It promised that, once the path was opened, the remainder of its kind, watching from Dark Space, would sweep through the galaxy and purge every star of the abomination and all those who walked its path.
The revelation about the Protheans was quite a shock to him, but it made sense that the Hanar would acquiesce so quickly. Still, at first, he had resisted. This was an AI, and couldn't be trusted.
But the longer he stayed, the more sense it made. Finally, he agreed to serve his new Sovereign, in exchange for the power and knowledge to safeguard the Galaxy against the scourge of Humanity.
Saren writhed in an ecstatic, breathless eternity, until it was over as suddenly as it began. He was flush with knowledge and power unlike anything he had ever experienced. Gazing out of the chamber, he saw rank after rank of enhanced Drell and Hanar, those whom Regards the Works of the Enkindlers in Despair called the Purified Host.
With this force, he thought to himself, I will finally have the means to bring humanity to its knees!
...
To those who have followed up to this point, I thank you.
This chapter marks the end of what I currently have written, and as work is moving into seasonal high gear I won't have as much time to focus on writing.
Know that I am not abandoning this story, mearly pausing while I shift gears.
You WILL see more chapters, so be patient with me.
I promise, I will finish the write!