Admiral Drescher was not exactly a newhorn when it came to diplomacy. While she was famous for having won a fight against the biggest bully of the galaxy, she had spent more time dealing with politicians than actually fighting battles. She had been pushed forward to the spotlight almost incessantly, a way to rally the folks back home, and a way to send a statement to others. She didn't like it much, but she understood it. And more importantly, she followed orders from the Joint Chiefs.
Dealing with the quarian admirals was not the weirdest thing she had had to do. It was not easy, the fact that all she could see of their faces was some of the light reflecting off their eyes didn't help. However, it required patience. Far too much patience. And her patience was starting to wear thin.
They were sitting in the same room where they had conducted the first round of negotiations, back before she had struck the deal with the Geth. A small but largely empty – by quarian standards – room aboard the Qwib-Qwib, with a large window showing a fantastic view of the quarian flotilla. A balance between showing too much to outsiders, and making a show of just how big the fleet was.
If only they knew.
She had data from the Geth now. Lots of data. The quarians might not realize it yet, but they owed their continued existence to Chief Morgan. They would have never stood a chance. If they had ever decided to try and retake their home planet by force, the quarian race would have been a thing of the past.
Just like the Council had wanted.
It was pretty cynical of her, but she blamed the asari. Maybe it wasn't entirely their fault, but the idea of just throwing things in the background and let them die out over time seemed to fit them to a T. They loved reminding everyone how they lived to a thousand years, and they alone could provide that perspective to the Galaxy. The way she saw it, so could the Krogan, and she could probably get along better with them. At the very least, she hadn't met a krogan who didn't give her some level of respect.
They really didn't like the turians.
The same five admirals were still there. Kun'Xale vas Allean, pragmatic but distrustful of outsiders. Hard to win over, but might listen to facts. Han'Gerrel vas Neema, long proponent of settling in other worlds and a thorn on the side of the Hierarchy. Rael'Zorah vas Rayya, the exact opposite of Han; he was one of the admirals beating the drums of war. Shala'Raal vas Tonbay, probably the weakest one of the lot; she seemed to take her role as an admiral seriously, but was the easiest to sway of all five. She was also the youngest, which probably explained it. In fact, other than Kun, the rest of the admirals seemed rather on the young side. Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib. Another pragmatist who wanted to move on, settle and thrive.
As far as the Intelligence she had been given knew, Kun'Xale and Rael'Zorah were the ones pushing the hardest for a plan to retake the homeworld. And Rael was close to Shala. If three out of five pushed for war, they would have war.
"Last time we spoke," Drescher said, sitting upright on the oddly-shaped chair, "you were understandably reluctant to discuss any long term plans as long as you remained shipbound and wandering the galaxy."
"If you're going to propose we settle somewhere in the Systems Alliance space, you can stop," Kun said. "We won't be made a client race of anyone, not even humans."
"Rannoch or bust," Drescher said.
"As you say," Kun replied.
"Well, in that case, I have good news. You will be able to move back to Rannoch within the month."
The declaration dropped the temperature of the room by at least ten degrees. That, or the freeze she felt came from time being frozen. Five pairs of eyes were looking at her from immobile, bewildered quarians.
"You can't possibly expect to retake Rannoch in a month!" Rael said. "Do you even know the strength of the fleet you will be going against? We have the biggest fleet in the galaxy, and we are still strengthening it before we launch our attack."
"If we launch our attack," Zaal said.
"If," Rael agreed, though that look he exchanged with Zaal spoke volumes.
"Oh, we aren't planning anything. We've done it," Drescher said.
"Ridiculous! We would have known if you had mobilized your fleets!"
"No need, my dreadnought and the right company were enough," Drescher replied. She turned to look at Zaal. "The geth were reluctant to leave Rannoch, to say the least, but we managed to make a deal with them. We ceded a large chunk of territory to them in Alliance space, and they have agreed to leave Rannoch for their creators. They should be done settling in about a month. They would have given me an exact timeline, but they couldn't be sure until they surveyed the new systems themselves."
"What?!"
She didn't know who had said that – at least three people had – and she didn't care. Zaal was meeting her gaze directly, but he hadn't said a word.
"Admiral, with all due respect," Rael was saying, "you're being a fool! The geth cannot be trusted, they are a malfunctioning AI! They nearly destroyed my race, and the same will happen to yours if you trust them!"
"How did you even make contact?" Zaal queried.
"Sent them a message and waited," Drescher said, following his lead and ignoring Rael. "All I needed to say was that I wanted to hear their side."
There was more she wanted to say. A lot more. But pretty much every analyst had advised her against it, including Marie Roux. She couldn't come across as a geth sympathizer, at least not yet. Don't push too much, too soon on the quarians.
"Ridiculous," Zaal said.
Et tu, admiral?
"Well, it worked. I had a big advantage, and that's the belief that it could be done. And unlike any quarian, I didn't come with any baggage."
There was some hesitation, which she attributed to a loss in translation. Then, it was the last person she expected to intercede speaking up.
"Admiral," admiral Shala said, getting her attention. "What payment do you expect?"
"Payment?" Drescher said, genuinely surprised. That was a very curious way of putting it, which told her a lot about where the quarians were coming from. "There's no payment. Rannoch will be empty in a month. Feel free to move in. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."
"While you get a veritable army of robot servants," Kun said.
"Not really. We recognize the geth as an independent people. We don't make servants out of anyone."
"You- The Citadel won't stand for that," Kun said. "Take this free advice as my gesture of goodwill, admiral."
"Perhaps," Drescher replied simply.
Or perhaps not, given how this comes all the way from the top. No way I'd have been giving these orders without Council involvement. But let them think that.
"So we… We can return?" Shala said.
"God as my witness," Drescher said. "Hopefully, that means you are willing to open trade negotiations with us."
"What could you possibly want from us?"
Well, here we go.
"We're currently expanding our fleets, as you probably know if you keep up with galactic affairs," she said. She waited for their reaction, and it was very guarded. They were suspicious. "We could use some help. There is money pouring in from the Volus and the Asari, but we need skilled shipyard workers. Additionally, a planetary level recolonization effort would be a boon for many of our prefab and construction companies, which would also help you get back on your feet faster."
"I should have known," Kun said. "You claim not to make servants of others, and yet that is what you want."
"What?" Drescher said. "Of course not, we want to hire workers, not-"
"We will recolonize on our own, admiral," she interrupted. "We appreciate your help, and once we have secured our homeworld, we will be willing to negotiate on an even footing. You will not take our people and-"
Without warning, Drescher slammed her hands on the desk and stood up, leaning forward and with a dangerous glint in her eye.
"I'm offering a trade deal!" she yelled. "I understand caution, and I understand suspicion. But now you're insulting my honesty, my principles, and those of the Systems Alliance. You want to stay alone, struggle and suffer because you were too proud to see a genuine hand of friendship being extended? Fine! Go ahead! Stay in Rannoch until the entire galaxy forgets you! You don't even realize the bullet you have dodged, but go right ahead. My goodwill is not limitless, and it withers and dies without some reciprocity to feed it."
She took a deep breath, the atmo control of her envirosuit whirring furiously to pump cold air inside. Damn, that wasn't how she had planned it, but that was that. All she could do was play it along.
"If you want to discuss things in good faith, I would be delighted to do so If you don't, I wish you luck and I will message you once the geth have finished relocating. The entire Systems Alliance territory will be between them and you, so you can be as alone as you want."
With a push, she straightened up, gave them an all-encompassing look, and walked out of the room. Well, if nothing else, maybe the Chiefs would assign Hackett to this job once it got back how she blew it. He should do fine once the quarians realized some humans were not going to let themselves be pushed around.
"That was unexpected," admiral Kun'Xale said.
"Was it? I thought that's what you were pushing for!" Han'Gerrel replied.
"Hardly. I wanted to see how far she would go to appease us. We still don't know anything about the humans' motivations."
"Seems straightforward to me," Shala'Raal said.
The condescending look Kun gave Shala made the younger admiral stir in place. Miffed, but chastised. She was much too young to be there, or so Kun had claimed since her appointment, and she loved to show it.
"So what do you propose?" Zaal said. "If we can return to Rannoch…"
Rael snorted. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Maybe," Kun said. "Or maybe not. We lose nothing by holding them to their promise."
"The will expect payment," Rael replied. "You can't believe that they don't."
"Are you truly suspicious, or angry that you won't be the one to liberate Rannoch, Rael?" Kun said.
"Ridiculous!" Rael said, much too quickly, and much too obviously.
"We should take their offer," Han'Gerrel, who had barely spoken two words, suddenly interrupted. "If we can return to Rannoch, how will we colonize? Salvage our ships? Sacrifice the fleet? Getting Rannoch is one thing, defending it is another."
"And letting our best shipwrights leave helps us defend it how?" Rael said.
"We don't need shipwrights. We need builders, farmers, doctors," Han'Gerrel said. "My proposals to colonize other worlds were always rejected for the same reason, that we couldn't settle and keep a fleet capable of defending against the turians when they inevitably came to claim it. Now we have the chance."
"The Hierarchy has no claim over Rannoch," Rael said, getting fired up. "It's our home!"
Before he could say anything else, Shala grabbed his arm, getting his attention and looking him straight in the eye.
"We can go home, Rael. Finally. You can take Tali home."
Rael didn't answer. He grumbled, and for a while seemed lost in thought. It took a long time, but finally, he just nodded. A slow nod, like the entire weight of the quarian people rested on his shoulders.
"Then I suppose we're in agreement," Kun said, her voice falsely chirp. "Zaal, why don't you go tell Drescher we're willing to accept the deal? With conditions, of course."
"Of course," Zaal replied, standing up. "We need to make sure we can spare the people, and-"
"Yes, yes, we can discuss it later. She's waiting for an answer," Kun said.
Zaal chuckled at that and nodded, already making for the door. Kun, too, stood up.
"Where are you going?" Shala said.
"We should call for a session of the Conclave. I'd rather not have to resign over this, if you know what I mean."
With that, Kun'Xale, longest serving member of the admiralty, left the room to call for a special session of the Conclave, a meeting of all the ship captains of the fleet. And in her head, plans were already forming. Plans for a better future for the quarian people.
Rannoch. It wasn't just home, it was opportunity. The geth were gone, or rather, would be gone, if the human was to be believed. Who knew what treasures they'd find on the planet from the days before the war. It was the best chance to understand the mechanical servants, and figure out what went wrong with them. Find a way to correct their defective programming. What a bounty that would be for the quarian people! And all the while, they were someone else's problem, someone who wasn't willing to take advantage of the sudden and unexpected windfall.
No, it was the chance of a generation, she'd be a fool to reject it. She just shouldn't seem too eager. Once again, the geth would serve the quarians, what they were created for. She had to speak with Daro'Xen, she could think of nobody else better suited to lead the research.
She'd have to make sure the humans didn't come to Rannoch until she was sure they wouldn't interfere. Easy enough to pass during the negotiations, she could even sell it to the Conclave as the quarians claiming their birthright back with no interference from outsiders. The humans could come and start building later. It would be easy.
Sometimes, she lamented the lack of experience of the current Admiralty Board. Other times, it looked like a blessing.
Hey Roy!
Admiral Drescher has let me be the one to break the news, she's made the deal! You should have seen her, she gave the entire admiralty board a lecture they won't be forgetting in a hurry. They still have to work out the details. I think the quarians are a bit wary just out of habit, but in principle they agreed.
Drescher wants us to keep working on the geth-quarian problem as a long term thing, so I'll be seeing a lot more of you! When are you next on Arcturus? I'll make sure I can be there, so much to talk about!
Take care,
Marie.
I am proud to say we weren't the last ones to pack our supplies for the Einstein. Getting and sorting all the gear for the marines was a big job, but luckily we got some help when the gunnery chief showed up. Well, one of the gunnery chiefs, the Einstein had eight assigned to it. The entire crew of the ship was almost 2,000, way, way more than the standard load for a carrier. Considering we had three hundred marines aboard, it wasn't the only oddity. I was starting to think that I was just confused about something, and the marine detail was supposed to go somewhere else, but after checking and re-checking, everything was for the Einstein.
All that confusion disappeared once I got shuttled up to the ship. It wasn't the Einstein I remembered, it was a new carrier.
And I had no idea what the hell it was supposed to be.
Carriers are mostly empty space, a superstructure and large hangars with fighters and bombers. This wasn't anything like the typical carrier. It looked like it had two enormous beams, with decks arranged on the outside of these beams. It took me a bit to place it, but I finally managed to put my finger on it. It looked like someone had cut the ends of a relay, and put some landing strips over and under it.
Weird.
The weirdest part is that the landing strips had several ships attached. Frigates. They looked like bog-standard Hasting-class frigates, except each one had a single, large spinal-mounted gun featuring very prominently and extending even beyond the front of the hull. Two lines of three ships, there was still enough room on the landing strips for something large, perhaps even a cruiser.
What that meant was that the carrier was BIG. Very big. It was also much more heavily armed than any carrier I had seen, with GARDIAN turrets dotted everywhere, and broadside guns in between each hangar. This wasn't a ship made to stand back and send fighters to battles. This ship was made to be the battle.
How they managed to put something like that together – four of them, according to the report – in such short time was beyond me. I wasn't the only one, the entire crew was as shocked as I was looking at the ship we were going to be serving in.
A carrier that brought its own flotilla of escort ships. With room to spare.
We had over two hundred standard small ships, a mix of fighters, bombers, and interceptors, as well as an assortment of troop carrier and ground support ships. We also had sixty new Brontes class fighters. Like the frigates, they too carried a very prominent, single spinal-mounted gun that ran the entire length of the ship. It wasn't until I took a closer look that I nearly shit a brick.
They came armed with a single Thanix cannon.
"Jinx," Kim called. "Are we up to speed?"
We were at the port armoury, where I was doing the last checks on the gear and supplies. Ye gods but there was a lot to go through. It wasn't just the marines, everyone else needed to have some guns and armor, and with 2,000 crew, that was a lot. At least I wasn't responsible for the pilots and the flight crew of the frigates.
"Yes sir," I replied, putting the report down and offering it to her. "Six hundred of the standard loadout, an extra three thousand pistols, eight hundred shield harnesses, the hardsuits, we have all the basics."
"Good. What are we missing?"
"Gunny's running the fabricators to get spares for the hardsuits. He says he doesn't want to wait until we need them to find out we can't get them."
"I don't disagree, but space is at a premium," Kim replied, already going through the list I had handed her.
"He knows, sir."
"What about the kids?"
"We'll whip them into shape," I replied, getting a smile from Kim, though she didn't look up.
"I'm sure you will," she muttered, and stopped her reading. "Mambas? What?"
"Oh. Yeah, I'd like to req twenty-five of them."
"What the hell for? Are they even in production?"
"Not sure if they're in full production, but as to why, I'd like at least every other six-man unit to have a designated marksman."
Kim looked up from the datapad and at me. "You still going on about that? I fail to see the advantage when every marine carries a sniper rifle."
"Well, it worked for me," I replied.
"You are the sniper. Were. In our unit."
"Oh come on, you like the Mamba. Everyone does."
"There's a difference between liking a shiny toy and what you want to do," Kim replied. "If you want to have people specialized in it, you're going to have to work on integrating them with the rest of the marines. You want to be in charge of them?"
"Me."
"It's your idea!" Kim replied cheerfully.
Find twenty-five kids that could aim and whip them into shape until they could shoot straight. It actually sounded like a lot of fun. Problem was whether I would be able to do it, because I'd get my ass kicked if they didn't measure up to par.
"Then I guess I do, sir," I said.
Kim nodded with a smile on her face, and went back to the report. "Fine. I'll float the idea up, should be doable."
"Hey, we're the shiny new fleet, I'm sure we can get away with anything," I said.
"Very new," Kim agreed. "Have you noticed?"
"Yeah, everyone's fresh out of bootcamp or the academy. Mostly."
"Except some of the higher command, but even there…"
"Any idea why?"
"Are you questioning your post or your superiors, Chief?"
"No sir, I wouldn't dream of it!" I replied.
Yeah, you might be a Lieutenant now, but we both know we were going through the mud together during bootcamp, Kim. It was going to be an odd time ahead, that much was obvious. Not because I had a problem with her being my superior officer – heck, she was probably the one person I trusted as much as Shepard in the whole galaxy – but mostly because she was such a cheeky sod.
"You better," she replied with a chuckle. "But you're not the only one wondering. I'm sure the admiral will tell us sooner or later."
We spent a few minutes going over some of the items, until a call over the ship's comms called everyone to attention.
"Attention everyone, this is Rear Admiral Kishi speaking."
"Rear… Damn, she got promoted," I muttered, getting a hush from Kim.
"In two days, we will be leaving the system, to start our tour of duty through Council space. Our mandate is simple, to maintain the safety of the trading routes and the colonies in our assigned patrols. The Ninth Fleet represents the first step humanity makes towards playing a larger role in our Galactic Community. No longer will we stand back and let others decide our destiny. The Systems Alliance, and myself, expect every man and woman in this ship to perform their duties to the highest standards.
"Many of you have wondered why we have chosen the youngest crew of any of the Alliance's fleets for this detail. We are but the first ships of many. I can now inform you that the Systems Alliance will be expanding their fleets, aiming to double them in two years. Many more will come and follow in our footsteps. As we speak, the recruitment efforts back home have redoubled, and there is talk of deploying our reservists until we can expand enough. This means that many more young people will be following our lead.
"We cannot allow other races to think us weak, think we lack what it takes due to history or lack of experience."
I caught the emphasis of these words and nodded. That resonated because it was what we heard from the turians and the batarians, respectively, as often as they were allowed to speak. For all the things the asari did, including their views on the younger races, they were never as direct with their put-downs as those two.
Then again, I knew better by now.
"So," Kishi continued, "we are going to show them how wrong they are. We will show that even our younger people can and will stand up for the Systems Alliance's principles. You are the youngest crew a ship of this size has ever seen, on the newest ship the Alliance has developed. When we are tested, and make no mistake, we will be tested, it will be your job to dispel all those notions. I am asking a lot of you, but I have no doubt you will perform as needed. I have personally vetted each and every one of you. Make me proud."
The whistle announced the end of the message, and Kim and I looked at each other.
"She hand picked over ten thousand people?" she said.
"I can believe that," I replied. "How else would we end up in the same detail, and with Shepard too?"
"It's only four carriers," Kim said with a shrug. "And I think they're keeping people from the same detail together."
Her omni-tool chimed, and after bring it up, she made a face of annoyance. Or exhaustion. I couldn't be sure.
"It never ends, does it el tee?" I said.
"Don't be cheeky, Chief," she replied. She shook the datapad in front of my face. "Finish this, then go start putting your detail together. Twenty-five people, not one more."
"Aye aye, sir."
"Taking Shepard with you?"
"No sir, she's not a very good sniper."
"Doesn't have to be, you're not allowed to take the best snipers." She saw the look I gave her, and just shrugged with a smile. "Your rules, chief. They're not supposed to be snipers."
"Very well, sir."
It was nice to finally have a chance to sit back and relax. The last few months had been a complete nightmare. She knew better than most how quickly the political landscape of the galaxy could change, without having to do anything to upset it. The smallest change could cause a cascade of events nobody could predict.
What Benezia had done ever since Roy had decided to grace her with the key to the end of civilization was anything but small. Her investment in Armax Arsenal was turning into one of the most profitable ventures the T'Soni family had ever seen. It had the unfortunate side effect of creating a political thunderstorm in the Hierarchy, much to Aethyta's amusement. It was an inconvenience, that was sure, but it was not something she did not expect. The turians could be predicted, to a certain extent. It did not make it easy to deal with, but it made it feasible.
Then, there was the humans. They had just completed their first batch of new carriers, and their brand new Ninth Fleet would be arriving at the Citadel in less than a week. Ahead of schedule, Benezia hadn't expected them to complete the work for another three months, at best. But they had managed to expand their shipyards and build the carriers at the same time. The Asari were still busy completing their part of the project, but they had time. Even though most didn't know it.
And at the same time the humans had brought the fleet into service, they had dropped the bombshell on the galaxy, that they had welcomed the geth as an allied power. Together with the quarians.
The maps were already being redrawn. Using chalk, of course. It was unlikely borders would stay as they were. They never did in times of upheaval.
Other things were robbing her of sleep. The salarians were quiet. When the salarians dive deep, everyone worried. In that case, she most of all, because she knew everything about why they had been diving deep. They had been driven into a corner and forced into a deal, and a whole lot of changes had happened without their knowledge or their involvement. They didn't like uncertainty.
Just as bad was the Eden Prime business. Questions were starting to be asked. The Eden Prime local government was not very enthusiastic about foreign money investments, they liked their planet clean and underdeveloped (orderly urbanization they called it, but she tended to disagree), and saw little reason for a new spaceport to begin with.
If she had any sense, she would have stopped pouring billions of credits into that backwards colony a few billions ago. While it was invested, the returns were both pitiful and slow. A matriarch like her doing something like that stuck out like a shark's fin on a quiet surface. How many more surveys was she going to have to run?
The fact that she completely accepted that there was a living, preserved Prothean somewhere down there amused her.
But what robbed her of the most sleep was her daughter. That had upset so many people, it was hard to keep up.
So yes, it was nice to have time to relax. At least, to fantasize about having such time, and such relaxation. Because instead of doing that, she was at a party. Or what passed for one for high ranking Asari. A breathtaking view of the White Coast, the top floor of the T'Ginne tower, and the most garish decoration money could buy. Exquisite foods, live music, elegant dance performers, it looked like just another excuse for the rich and powerful to burn excess credits. In truth, there was more political maneuvering done with the exchanges of pleasantries over pickled red bram eggs than there was during the presidential summits.
"Matriarch Benezia," a pleasant, aged voice said.
Case in point.
"Matriarch Sailas," Benezia replied, turning around and plastering her standard smile on. "A rare privilege to have you join us, what brings you all the way from Imeria?"
"The company, of course," Sailas replied.
That sure is reassuring.
What of the one hundred businesses she was part of as head of the T'Soni family could Sailas be interested in? No point in speculating, such a direct response meant she was not going to waste time telling her.
"Oh, you are too kind," Benezia replied.
"I too am surprised to see you here, Benezia. Goddess knows you are quite the busy cuda these days. I am so glad you found the time to join us."
These days.
"Ah, you know how it is. We heads of proper families do need to guide them in times of trouble."
"Such is our burden," Sailas agreed, making a widely encompassing gesture with her glass, then offering Benezia a small toast.
Flashing of the scales. Pointless, but necessary; establishing rank. It also meant that Sailas was coming out fighting. And the our, the gesture, she wasn't just speaking for her own family. It was such a shame Aethyta wasn't there, she would have paid good money to see her handle Sailas. Then again, even if she wasn't busy, Aethyta rarely joined those kinds of social niceties.
"These are remarkable times," Benezia said. "The humans will surely turn the galaxy upside down, as they would say."
"And the quarians," Sailas added, her voice chirp. "I never thought I would live to see a quarian out of his suit again. In polite company, at least," she added as an afterthought.
"We might not live that long," Benezia said, enjoying the double meaning only she could get.
"Ah matriarch, you barely look your age," Sailas replied. "The time will come."
"One can only hope," Benezia added.
"Why, you seem to be in low spirits, whatever could make that happen?" She waited, but Benezia only gave a bland smile, sipping her glass of wine. "Just look at your recent fortunes. Matriarch T'Lena will enter your family's history records with her recent successes."
Money? No, too mundane. Even a fortune as large as that of the T'Soni family wouldn't ruffle any feathers. A century or two, and much of it would be broken with her passing, as it was customary.
"And she has enjoyed it, too," Benezia added.
Sailas gave an airy laugh, nodding. "I am sure she has. She has been making others restless, wanting to join in on the school hunt."
"I am sure she has," Benezia agreed, throwing Sailas' words back at her.
"I have also been following your daughter's meteoric rise," Sailas said. Her voice kept even, for the most part, but the subtle change of inflection was something Benezia wouldn't miss. And Sailas would know it. "Quite a remarkable discovery she made."
"She has always been very gifted," Benezia replied, locking eyes with Sailas.
"It didn't look that way all but a year ago," Sailas said, but Benezia didn't take the obvious bait. "But what a turnaround. And for the T'Soni estate, too, to now have the most valuable prothean technology in the galaxy. Well, second most," she added.
The beacon of the Temple of Athame, of course. It wasn't exactly public knowledge, but many high ranking political figures knew about it now. Next to that, Liara's discovery had lost some of its value, but Sailas was not exaggerating.
"Not the T'Soni family," Benezia said. "I wouldn't dream of stealing my daughter's success. As you well know, I was forced to disown her as part of the family all those years ago. All her achievements are nobody's but her own now."
"Of course," Sailas said. "But the humans have another charming saying. Blood is thicker than water."
Benezia smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile. It wasn't a dangerous one, either, not something that would put anyone on alert. It was simpler. It was a smile that demanded attention.
"Did a friend of yours from the university feel slighted after such an ironic turn of events?" Benezia said.
"Oh Beni," Sailas said, laughing softly. Benezia's smile was frozen in place, and for the first time, Matriarch Sailas blinked and seemed to miss a step. "I was merely wondering whose idea it was to work so closely with the humans. After all, some people might look at it as… unpatriotic."
"Unpatriotic? How very turian. Surely not Matriarch Farras," Benezia said. Farras T'Vale was the notable love child of the, at the time, turian and asari councillors, and a matriarch of great influence.
"Oh, don't misunderstand me, I'm not pointing fins at anyone. I am merely making conversation, I have heard so many things since I came back to Thessia."
"I'm sure you have," Benezia replied. "Keep your ears open, my dear Sailas. The night is still young."
Benezia nodded at Sailas and prepared to leave. Everything else that she had set in motion, every single thing, she could deal with.
Everything but her daughter.
The prothean VI – which was less than half the story of what they had found on Ilos – was a very different kind of shark. Liara was a wildcard, doing business with the humans with their prothean beacon. It wasn't any more upsetting than any of the other galactic developments, but this was one the matriarchs couldn't control, and that could be pinned squarely on her. Turians, salarians, humans, all of them were political issues. Republican politicians could deal with those. For Liara, it was personal. It was on her. And with the message Sailas had just delivered, it was clear some were starting to feel threatened. Too many unknowns, too many changes, they needed control over everything they could control.
She wondered whether the asari who knew about the temple were on her side or gathering with the opposition. If the contents of the Temple's beacon were anything like what Roy had revealed to her, they might very well fear what the humans might learn from their own beacon with the help her daughter was offering.
Before she could make a step, Sailas stopped her.
"Whatever happened to your charming companion?" Sailas said. "Aethyta? I heard the two of you have been mixing water again."
"She is otherwise engaged at the moment."
"A real shame, I would have enjoyed seeing her again," Sailas said.
"I would have enjoyed that, too."
Sailas, for the second time, missed half a step in her demeanour.
Yes, I would have enjoyed seeing her handle you very, very much.
She made a mental note to have a chat with Aethyta as soon as possible. She didn't think the matriarch would dare move against her daughter. That's not what they wanted; they wanted control, not confrontation. And she had just made perfectly clear to Sailas that there would be a hell of a conflict if they made a misstep against her daughter.
Still, it would give her peace of mind to know Aethyta knew about the chat she had just had. She had no doubt the commandos she had sent with Liara would be the best anyway. On the other hand, it could be better if she was to talk with Liara directly. She added the thought to the growing list of flimsy excuses she kept finding to talk to her daughter again.
After spending so much time in Thessia, and more specifically with Benezia, Aethyta found the change of scenery rather refreshing. A seedy bar in the Traverse was more her thing. Unlike Beni, she didn't have to worry about her extended family. The Telan clan was in very good hands, and those hands weren't hers.
"Ryncol," she said, sitting at the bar. "Two glasses. And leave the bottle."
The batarian gave her a look and snorted, but complied when the credit chit hit the surface. It was a dark and dirty hole in the ground, full of smoke and with only twelve tables all in. There was a single asari dancing on one of them. There was always one. They had made eye contact when Aethyta had entered, and the look had been quite eloquent. This wasn't the place she had planned to end at.
Well doll, you're on your own this time. You're gonna have to harden up.
The lights were low enough that it was hard to make anyone out, but Aethyta had made her mark already. She picked the glasses and bottle, and made for the table, where a krogan was sitting alone. The hump and the headcrest showed his advanced age, but she wasn't fooled. That krogan was dangerous.
"Urdnot Wrex, I presume," she said, stopping in front of him.
"No dances," Wrex grunted.
The reply was so unexpected that Aethyta nearly dropped the glasses when she laughed. She put them on the table, put the bottle next to them, and stole a chair from the next table.
"Ah, such a flatterer," she said. "My dancing days are long past. Not that you would miss it."
"What do you want asari?"
"Matriarch Aethyta," she said, pushing one of the glasses to the krogan. He took it and downed it one mighty gulp.
"So what's your business, Matriarch Aethyta?"
That was almost polite.
"Got a job for you, if you're interested."
"I figured as much, what kinda job?"
"Taking control of the Urdnot clan and whipping the krogan into shape," she replied.
Aethyta didn't really expect Wrex to react in any particular way, but she liked the flair for the dramatic Roy seemed to possess. That was how she had revealed it to Benezia and Tevos, right after telling them about the quarians. She had nearly pissed her pants laughing when Beni shared that with her. While they had decided to leave the quarians to the Systems Alliance and, by extension, Roy, they had left the krogan to her.
It was the right choice. That kid would be just chum for the sharks in a place like that. She had done her own research, and his choice wasn't a bad one. Assuming he could get over his damn self, that is. And she knew better than anyone just how stubborn krogan could be. If he didn't agree, there were other options. Okeer was the second one. He had the right ideas – breed better krogans, not more of them – but he wasn't in a position to lead anyone after being kicked out of his clan as he was. In that sense, he had something in common with Wrex, but on the other hand, there was a lot of history behind him that Wrex didn't have.
The low noise of the bar continued while the two of them squared off, eyes fixed on each other's. In the background, a fight broke out, and Aethyta felt the tingle of biotics. The asari dancer had apparently had too much of some of the more handsy customers. Well, good, she did have some guts after all.
"The last time one of you asari came to us, my people ended up with the genophage," Wrex said. "What are you really after?"
When he spoke, the krogan's voice was like ice. Menacing, and dangerous. And she didn't miss that he hadn't used her name, nor how he had referred to us, the krogan.
"I see I made the right choice. You cut through the bullshit and go straight to the point," Aethyta said. She picked up the glass, gave the ryncol a good pull, and put it down with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, horrible stuff. Just the way's supposed to be."
"Well?" Wrex said, unmoved.
"Well," Aethyta said. "I'm looking for a krogan that can knock some sense into them. We're going to need them."
"What for?"
He asked questions one at a time, but each one of them wanted more than simple answers. Aethyta wasn't giving too much away, not yet. What they wanted reeked of what happened when the krogan were uplifted by the salarians, and Wrex had picked up on that almost immediately. He'd have every reason not to trust her.
"There's a war coming."
Wrex snorted in response, and that was all he said.
"I thought of asking your brother, but he isn't my first choice. He seems like too much of a knucklehead."
"That's putting it mildly." Wrex pulled another drink, and refilled his glass again. After a few seconds looking at the dirty liquid, he spoke again. By the sounds of it, he was speaking from a place far, far away. "You're wasting your time asari. The krogan are done for. They'll keep fighting each other to their extinction. They isn't enough sense in Tuchanka to feed a varren."
"Tell me about it," Aethyta replied, drinking again. Damn, she should have gotten two bottles. "My father was a krogan. Fought in the Rebellions, and so did my mother. An asari commando. Then one day they found out they had been enemies in a battle hundreds of years ago, and went to finish it off. Neither of them came back."
"Doesn't surprise me," Wrex replied.
They took a few minutes to drink in silence, Wrex watching the crowd, Aethyta watching the asari dancer. A group of humans were the ones paying for her services now. Loud, for sure, but they were sitting back and letting her do her thing. She danced well, fluid moves showing off in a way the humans would appreciate. She had the air of a veteran. What a waste.
"What would you do, Wrex? Instead of fighting everyone."
"I tried that before. Tried to get my clan to stop fighting, to rebuild and lick our wounds, as the humans would say."
"Did it work?"
"Until it didn't. My father didn't like it. We wanted to continue fighting. He called me to a crush to discuss things."
"Well, that doesn't sound too good."
"No. I wasn't sure, could be a trap, but if your father invites you to a Crush, well, there are some laws even we hold sacred. And we were meeting at the Hollows. I showed up with a small group of guards. He brought even more. He tried to convince me to go back to the old ways, and when I didn't agree, he just signaled his men and they jumped us."
"You made it out alive," Aethyta said.
"Not before leaving my favourite knife buried in my father's chest," Wred rumbled. He finished the bottle, and crushed the empty flask in his hand. Some shards of glass but through his skin, but even as blood dripped down, his krogan regeneration was already slowing it down. "Krogan talk about being proud warriors, but all they do is glorify pointless violence."
"I know what you mean," Aethyta said. And she did. She was still a maiden shaking her ass at a bar when her parents decided to kill each other. "But it's got to be done."
"Yeah, this war of yours," Wrex said. He narrowed his eyes and gave her a closer look. "What are you asari planning this time?"
"Oh? We asari?" Aethyta said, a grin forming on her face. "You figured that out?"
"You don't look the type, but you smell like trouble," Wrex said. "What are you planning? Taking the humans down a peg? I heard they're making a lot of noise."
"Nothing like that. Ever heard of the protheans?" Aethyta said, but kept talking not expecting an answer. "We found the things that destroyed them."
Wrex didn't blink, or react in any way. Given what intel she had gathered on him, Aethyta could guess that he had seen so much that nothing would be really able to shake him.
"You're picking a fight?"
"No, they're going to come knocking. We've got a few years, but that's about it. This is the war the krogan were born to fight, Wrex."
Once again they fell into silence. Listening to the shitty music, watching the people come and go. There was a turian sleeping on one of the back tables. Or so Aethyta had thought. Now, after seeing him not move an inch since she had started talking with Wrex, she was pretty sure he was dead. Overdose, judging by the tube in his hand. Did the stupidity ever end? She looked around, and saw a few more of those tubes. Dark red liquid. Kinein, probably. Good for levo and dextro, addictive, and a shitty trip all said. As Wrex was still silently contemplating, she kept looking. There. A three-eyed batarian, with an eyepatch on the missing top left eye. He was passing around selling it. Nobody batted an eyelash, the bar probably got a cut.
She didn't much care, except when he stopped at the table where the humans were. The asari looked at them with far too much familiarity. Stupid girl.
"Get another bottle," Wrex said, breaking the silence. "This is going to take a while."
"Sure thing," Aethyta replied with a smirk.
She stood up, heading for the bar. She tapped the hard surface, and gestured at the batarian.
"Another bottle of Ryncol, we've got business to discuss. And one of whatever those humans are drinking."
"Bourbon and vodka, which one?" the batarian grumbled.
"Make it one of each," she replied. "Actually, make it two."
She swiped her chit, and left a generous tip. It was a good precaution, it'd ensure they wouldn't be bothered while talking. Some bartenders got fidgety if one spent too much time and not enough money at their establishments. With that, she made for the dancer's table.
"All right girl, get down," she said, her raspy voice cutting through the chatter.
"What?" the asari replied.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" one of the humans said, a greasy creature with dirty dark hair and puffy, rounded features. "We paid for this shit."
"Yeah, well," Aethyta said, grinning as she planted the four bottles of human liquor on the table. "Life has its ups and downs."
"Matriarch, I-" the asari protested.
"Now, girl," Aethyta interrupted, her voice commanding.
She punctuated the order with a flare of her biotics, focused on a barrier around her. To the naked eye, not much happened. A biotic, on the other hand, would have felt a pulse of dark energy worthy of an asari matriarch.
With a surprised expression on her face, the asari nodded, and stepped down, using a free chair on her way as a step. The humans had long lost interest, focusing on the large amounts of free booze in front of them.
"You've wasted enough time shaking your ass in this shitty bar," Aethyta said.
"You don't want me to dance for you?"
Aethyta stopped dead on her tracks, and turned to give the asari a flat look. "You're not that stupid," she said.
"… who are you, Matriarch?"
"Matriarch Aethyta. Come on girl," she added, not bothering to learn her name. "Make yourself useful. You're about to learn about krogan negotiations."
Author's Notes: All right, so while there isn't much action in this chapter, there's a few things here I wanted to get in soon. Just to show that Aethyta hasn't just been sitting on her damn fine ass, the Asari are getting restless, and the quarian-geth thing isn't going to be as easy to solve as you might think. Good times!
I hope that Rael didn't come across as too much of a butthead. I intended for him to be reluctant to work with non-quarians, too much history there, and for his obsession with building Tali a house on the home planet to be weighting heavily on him. Anyway, that's behind us now. Onwards!
Lots of reviews for last chapter! I hope it's not dragging too much, I have more action-happenings planned for next chapter and then on. The Ninth Fleet is now out and about, after all! Should be some fun to have Sheppy and Roy in the same place :)
And this story has officially passed 1,000 followers, how awesome is that! Thanks so much for all the support!
5 Coloured Walker: Miranda, the ice queen we all love to hate.
BJ Hanssen: I'm such a tease, I know, always hinting stuff. Some shit's going to unravel soon, just wait!
Toothless: Sowwy :-O
spiral83: Well, I can tell you that Divergence's Roy won't take kindly to blackmail or Cerberus. Remember that, in his head, what he has now is a renegade playthrough, and not a good one at that. His opinion of Cerberus is much less than ideal.
Mizuki00: Ah haha! I'm so going to have some fun with this :D
Abysmal Shadows: If you think about it, Shepard should have never in a million years have teamed with Cerberus in ME2. Specially if he has the Sole Survivor background.
TheYatted: One more chapter! :)
eurodox59: Maybe the metaphor is referring to how they see themselves through the eyes of the quarians, not necessarily how they see themselves. After all, that's the only people they ever met. As for Cerberus, it's a matter of patience, or lack of thereof. Soon! Don't want to rush it or it won't be believable.
Lfan8: I'm definitely going to have some fun with command! And someone else will, too :D
Uemei: Goldie's going to be so much fun. Muahahaha!
Zeru'Xil, Oyshik, XRaiderV1, general-joseph-dickson, MoonBurner, OBSERVER01, Serenarey Chiba, Guest, DarkChampion, bdrivermp, helenGet, The DCG, thanks for taking the time to review! Really appreciate all the comments, always trying to make the story better.
So, next chapter? Well, some shit's going to go down, Roy gets to yell at some people, some familiar face(s?), and I'm not sure, but I think someone might get laid. We'll see! Until then, thank you very much for reading, following, reviewing, and all the awesome stuff. And until then, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!