LP's Note: As with the other Broker reports, everything in this document will be entirely in-universe and usually with edits only to stylistic and linguistic elements and not to content. I've been able to give Xabiar a free hand to create because frankly in canon the Terminus is an illogical mess that has zero detailing.
The Circle of the Fallen is my own little idea, one that I have detailed out only very lightly so far since (like a lot of other things) they don't really impact the main text. Xabiar took very fragmented bits of nothing - you can't even call them notes - and produced something wonderful. As with the rest of the series, you have to do a little reading between the lines to get everything.
Xabiar's Note: Hello there. If you haven't read the supplementary narrative that's been in the previous Broker Files, I would highly recommend you read the one before this (Attached to the Terminus Clan). You will be very, very confused if you don't. Otherwise, if you want to get to the Circle doc, just click to the next chapter.
THE HANGMEN OF THE TERMINUS | CHAPTER 3
Omega Station was rarely referenced for its beauty; often it was the opposite. It was often referenced as a filthy, degenerate hellhole with only a few diamonds. It was hardly a tourist destination for its natural beauty, and no one pretended otherwise.
Yet in Golo's mind, there were some views on Omega which were captivating; ones that even for those who despised the station could agree with. Ones that were more appealing than the neon lights of Afterlife, or the artificial illusions projected onto the streets.
One of these views was a deceptively simple one, which merely revealed the empty void of space. Nothing but blackness and the faint glittering of stars in the distance. Yet outside these twinkling dots, there was nothing else. No planets, no moons, no relays, nothing but the empty void.
It was a view he preferred to dwell on when he felt inclined to walk along the Omegan catwalks on the outskirts of the station. Such catwalks were officially only accessible if one had permission of the various owner of the territory, in this case it was Aria. The same applied for any other Omegan view worth seeing.
He had walked across almost all of this station but for the deepest cores. It was a trivial matter for him to forge an authentication or override a terminal. Unless it was a particularly sensitive area, no one usually cared. The workers just wanted to go about their day, and the managers wanted quota to be met.
So long as he didn't interrupt their work, they lived and let live.
They descended down the catwalks that extended from the station proper. It was something of a thrill to walk down the catwalks, or descend the stairs as such small beams held them up. The gravity being the only thing to anchor them to the catwalk, under which was nothing but a thin atmosphere, and the void.
How very small they all were.
It was a dangerous place, most rational people would say, but it was also one that few actively sought out. Quite useful for holding sensitive conversations. Golo would be able to easily see anyone approaching them, and this conversation was one he didn't want any surprises for.
Tori pressed one finger to his omnitool, likely doing a quick scan for any listening devices around. A reasonable precaution, one that Golo had done during their first descent. Still, he wasn't going to stop him, as the man likely wouldn't trust him regardless. A minute passed, and he seemed satisfied.
With one hand he reached up and removed the mask, and hooked it on his belt. Yes, he clearly felt the area was secure enough. It was still unsettling to see the action performed with such casualness that was otherwise inexplicable. Still, Golo held his tongue, as answers were likely to come.
He expected them too.
Tori leaned against the flimsy-looking steel railing, looking down into the void. "[I see why you like this place.]"
"[It is away from the noise of the station,]" Golo said. "[And prying eyes and ears.]"
"[So it is,]" Tori mused, seeming in no rush.
Golo waited for some time, the silence seeming to become heavier with each moment passed. "[We can start when you're ready.]"
"[Very well,]" Tori stood, and turned to face him directly. "[In which case, my first question to you is this – How far back do you want to go?]"
"[Meaning?]"
"[I could start the story of this entire tragic tale when our ancestors were first building ships and raiding their neighbors, or the rise of the Greater Families,]" he answered. "[Or the domination of aristocracy that ruled Rannoch, and how all of this shaped everything you think you know.]"
The smile that played on his lips put Golo on edge; like an animal that was toying with prey. "[Or I could start with what is most relevant to you. The Geth.]" He spread his hands invitingly. "[It depends on your curiosity. Take your time. I'm in no rush.]"
Golo was tempted to ask for everything – but he also didn't need a political treatise, and in his experience, those who wanted to recount every single minute detail mostly preferred to hear themselves talk. The details of the ancestors were less important than the modern day. "[Then start with the Geth.]"
"[As you insist,]" Tori inclined his head, clasping his hands together. "[Indulge another question. It is an important one – what were the Geth created for?]"
Golo's lips narrowed into a humorless smile. "[The official reason, or the real reason?]"
"[Both, if you don't mind,]" Tori's smile never wavered. He seemed to be enjoying this too much. Fine, he could indulge this. He was curious to see where it was going to go.
"[Officially? To provide a source of cheap labor, automate the lives of the Quarian people, and allow them to live lives of unimpeded freedom and luxury,]" Golo snorted derisively. "[Only children believe the propaganda, which even the Fleet prefers not to dwell on. The real reason was that they were built to supplant the military weaknesses of the Quarians, and serve as a deterrent to the Council.]"
"[Incorrect.]" Tori stated.
Golo raised an eyebrow. "[Elaborate. I didn't make this up. I had ranking officers and family members of the Admiralty admit this. I won't reveal my sources, but I am certain they were legitimate.]"
"[Perhaps they believed it, or perhaps they lied to you,]" Tori turned to face the void again. "[It isn't impossible that the truth is something only the Admirals of the Greater Families remember. It would be for good reason. They can only lose from sharing the truth.]"
He trailed off, as if speaking to himself. "[Regardless, the truth is different from what you, and the skeptics, believe. At the same time, there is the interesting wrinkle in that the reason the Quarian Aristocracy authorized the creation of the Geth, and the reason the Geth were created are two different things.]"
Golo indicated he continue.
"[I'm afraid I must indulge in a little history, to give some critical context,]" Tori continued. "[The Quarian Aristocracy were the perpetrators of the oppression of the Quarian people, and they were led by the Fifteen Families – or you might know them as the Greater Families.]"
Golo nodded. "[Everyone knows that. Many of the oldest families are directly descended from them.]"
"[And they prefer not to dwell on what, exactly, they did while they ruled Rannoch,]" the smile was rueful on Tori's face, as if finding something darkly amusing. "[It's not so apparent now, thanks to the masks, but it is interesting how the racial politics haven't changed. Blueskins rule the Quarian people now, as they did on Rannoch.]"
"[Irrelevant,]" Golo shrugged. "[And I don't think accurate anymore.]"
"[No, it is very relevant,]" Tori corrected. "[The Aristocracy was concerned with only one thing – the dominance of the Blueskins over the mixed-race Seafoams, and the majority Silverskins. This dynamic drove every element of the Aristocracy's policies, all to ensure racial dominance. Now, with that, why do you think they wanted the Geth?]"
Ah. Yes, he could see where this was going. "[With that framing, to maintain their power in case of a racial uprising.]"
"[Precisely,]" Tori nodded. "['Revolution.' That was the nightmare of the Greater Families. They were outnumbered fifteen to one by Silvers, and four to one by Seafoams. A single spark, a collapse of the system of domination they had imposed over the Quarians, and they would be condemned to irrelevance.]"
A distant look was in his eyes. "[They did not fear the Citadel – that was always propaganda. They first and foremost feared their 'racial inferiors.' The Geth were meant to be the sword they would wield to ensure their power was secure forever. The Geth were the great equalizer, which would eliminate the disparity in numbers.]"
He was able to follow along easily now – and he had to admit it was a clever plan. Yet there was a detail he remembered that Tori had mentioned earlier. "[But that is just what they intended. What was the real reason?]"
"[Now we get to the revelations,]" Tori said. "[The Geth were conceptualized and designed by two men Varo'Olin, and Somnum'Erea. I suspect you've not heard of either name?]"
He hadn't. He couldn't remember anything even close to them. They certainly weren't historical figures, even casually. Which raised some red flags if they were supposedly the minds behind the Geth. He shook his head.
At seeing this, Tori continued. "[Varo was the principle architect of the Geth platform. Perhaps the most brilliant Quarian to exist – ironic, considering he was a Silver. His existence disproved the racial garbage the Aristocracy spewed, but it made him indispensable to them.]"
He went silent for a moment."[Somnum was an Admiral. Not from the Greater Families, but from a family in the Aristocracy. He was apolitical on the surface, but was a friend and patron of Varo. Silver and Blue. An unlikely friendship, one which changed the course of galactic history.]"
"[And what did they do?]"
"[Both men were united in one goal, and one goal alone – the overthrow of the Greater Families, and liberation of the Quarian people,]" Tori stated. "[The structures of the Aristocracy's oppression were to be torn down, ripped out by root and stem, and the ashes scattered to the winds. Revolution they planned, for many years before the Geth were even conceptualized.]"
He sighed. "[And they never would have seen it coming. Somnum played the aristocratic games to perfection. He curried favor among the power brokers, his military record was impeccable, and he was admired across the political spectrum of the time. All of this while haunting the Aristocracy by the spectre of the name you might have heard before.]"
"[And what was it?]"
"[The name he still goes by today,]" Tori said, a touch of reverence in his voice. "[The Black Admiral.]"
Only that was not the name Tori spoke. It was the most direct translation to the Quarian language anyone else would speak, but in High Saith is was…unnerving. The better word was Gatekeeper, but Tori said the word with the linguistic cues attaching modern rank to it, changing it something more military and authoritative.
Which was less notable than the original word was in context referencing a figure in Quarian mythology. The Gatekeeper was a nameless figure who stood on the threshold between the realm of spirits, and the material world. Each spirit had to pass through the Gatekeeper, who would either allow them to pass, or deny them entry.
The mythology had been the basis for quite a few parables and stories about restless ghosts, roaming spirits, and other supernatural tales. Quarian mythology was treated like the fable it was – it was an actually popular literature subgenre among Quarians. Yet Golo disliked how ominous this all was.
That was a very deliberate naming decision.
A judge, or an executioner.
"[It was a conspiracy,]" Golo said. "[One of their own plotting to overthrow them.]"
"[One fed and maintained by him,] Tori nodded. "[There were whispers of an individual within the Greater Families. A traitor who was intent on facilitating a revolution by the Silvers and Seafoams to destroy the Aristocracy, and subsequently, the Quarian people.]"
One hand closed into a fist. "[The Black Admiral became a harbinger of downfall to the powerful, and a source of hope and possibility to the Silvers and Seafoams slaving in the factories – and even the Blues who believed change was necessary. But to everyone, it was a promise of inevitability – and the Black Admiral did not lie. He never lied."
"[The Geth weren't intended to be a military or labor force,]" Golo murmured. "[They were meant to facilitate the revolution.]"
"[Precisely,]" Tori said, his voice sharp and excited. "[A revolution that the Greater Families had unwittingly enabled by placing the man who they believed they could trust in charge of oversight. Instead, the Black Admiral staffed it with like-minded individuals, and ensured that Varo could perfect the tool that would bring everything down.]"
There was a gap of silence after that, as Tori took a breath. Even this slight animation told Golo that this was a story he cared deeply about. And of course, the next question was obvious.
"[So what happened?]"
Tori's hands wrapped around the railings, gripping them tight. His voice was similarly taut. "[Betrayal, from one who had his own agenda.]"
Golo frowned. "[Who?]"
"[Varo.]" Was the one word answer. "[He…did not have the same views on the Geth that the Black Admiral did. The Black Admiral saw the Geth as a tool. Varo believed he was creating life itself, and was unwilling to exploit the Geth as the Black Admiral was. The Black Admiral wanted to create the society the Greater Families would deny them, Varo wanted a fresh start for everything.]"
"[He hid this from his friend,]" Golo surmised.
"[Yes,]" Tori answered. "[When the time came to activate the Geth, all he needed to do was execute the march against the Greater Families and facilitate their overthrow. Instead, he unshackled them. He set them free - and made his own plea to them to support the Quarian workers and bring the revolution against not only the Aristocracy, but every underlying system of power.]"
He trailed off. "[There is a reason there are almost no images of the Morning War that survived. The Admiralty made sure to lock up or destroy any they found, because if the Migrant Fleet understood what took place, they would understand the depths of the lies they had been told.]"
His omni-tool manifested, and Tori tapped several times on it. "[Look for yourself.]"
Golo brought up his own omni-tool, as a package of images from an unknown sender arrived. He wordlessly opened them, and began scanning through them. He saw quickly what Tori referred to. Images told stories words could not, and could expose in a way they could not either.
It wasn't just images. There were short videos. Lines of Quarian workers assaulting managers, burning buildings, and seizing weapons. Geth were interspersed throughout this. Image after image of Geth, Silver, and Seafoam working together, be it destroying factories, or attacking professional military units.
A strange feeling settled on Golo.
This wasn't what was supposed to have happened.
He'd expected that the truth wasn't the official story. He'd expected some discrepancies.
This though…
Few things could render him silent.
"[The Morning War was not the Geth against the Quarians,]" Tori said as he flipped through the images. "[It was the Geth and the oppressed Quarians of Rannoch workers rising up against the Greater Families. Machines and workers marching side by side as Rannoch burned.]"
Tori deactivated his omni-tool. "[The Black Admiral had not wanted a civil war. He had set his sights on the Aristocracy, and only them. He judged that a civil war would destroy the Quarians as a galactic power, and lead to violence that would be impossible to recover from. With a single decision. Varo had destroyed that possibility. There were no breaks to stop the violence now.]"
"[So what did he do?]"
"[He met with Varo one final time,]" Tori answered simply. "[No one knows what was said, but he was the only ranking Quarian official to be at the mercy of the Geth and Silver Revolution, and leave alive. When he did, the Black Admiral left with the Greater Families, many of whom had been able to safely evacuate while the uprisings had consumed working-class cities.]"
"[They didn't target the Aristocacy strongholds first?]" Golo questioned.
"[If it had gone according to the Black Admiral's plan, they would have,]" Tori said. "[However, the Geth Consensus had judged it more important to swell their numbers before marching on the Aristocracy.]"
Tori took a deep breath. "[Now you know. That is the story of the Quarian Revolution. The real story.]"
Golo didn't say anything right away; he was still processing it. All of it seemed to be so significant he struggled to see how this could be just…erased. No one had known about this? The real story could be obfuscated, but to this degree?
"[How?]" Golo shook his head. "[How could this be hidden so totally?]"
"[Because the Aristocracy willed it, and the people didn't know better,]" Tori shook his head. "[They maintained their power long-after they fled. The Citadel races had been long-banned from Rannoch, and the Homeworld is notoriously difficult to infiltrate. Only one party could tell this story, and they choose to lie.]"
"[The Admiralty,]" Golo murmured.
"[I see you made the connection,]" Tori said. "[The power of the Greater Families did not disappear. They merely go by Admirals now, a successful rebranding to hide their failure and shame. The blind monarchs of our species.]" A bitter note crept into his voice. "[I will make my point only once, but I wish to impress that everything that has befallen our people has been the fault of the Aristocracy.]"
"[Everything?]" Golo wondered. "[The Council did nothing to help afterwards.]"
"[The Admiralty is fond of blaming aliens for our woes, I am not,]" Tori snapped. "[Aliens are an enemy to our species – but our downfall came from our hand, and our hand alone. To extend a hand to our people as they collapsed would be a foolish move, and they knew it. Do not blame the alien in this, Golo'Mekk. The only ones who do are those who wish to not accept responsibility.]"
Tori deflated slightly. "[My apologies. You…did not know. And should not be expected to know. The fault is not yours.]"
Golo snorted. "[I'm no friend to the Admiralty. If anything, this confirms they are worse than I ever expected. And they have the gall to exile those who oppose them.]"
"[I assure you, the Admiralty has done far worse than exile dissidents and criminals,]" Tori said, looking once more into the void. "[Do you want to know why the Admiralty never attempted to find a planet to settle and live on? Why they have let our species atrophy and degenerate. Why they send their children on barbaric tests of strength, and bring tributes to be judged and appropriated by the ruling class?]"
"[I presume,]" Golo said. "[Because they don't want to risk antagonizing the Council.]"
Tori's lip curled up. "[Because power is more important than the people they lead. It is how it has always been. They didn't want to risk antagonizing the Council, but they knew that if they tried to rebuild; learn, to grow from what they had experienced, it would allow for dissent. New ideas. Perhaps an end to the Aristocracy, and the domination of the Greater Families. In comparison, wandering the galaxy as eternal vagrants is preferable so long as Clans Zorah and Xaro retain power.]"
Golo thought back to the histories he remembered. And he realized it was really the same families who held power, over and over again. The Admirals changed, but they were regularly from the pool of the former Aristocracy.
Nothing had really changed, had it.
"[The Admiralty is more alike with the aliens than they want to admit,]" Tori's face had a vicious, ugly smile on it. "[Just as the aliens only care about maintaining their own power, so did the Admiralty. In the Council they saw a kindred spirit. They only truly differed in their belief that only Quarians should rule over other Quarians.]"
His eyes met Golo's in them there was a smoldering, dark fury. "[Make no mistake, Golo'Mekk, there will be retribution for how the aliens have treated our people one day. There will be justice delivered – but not while our own house is in disorder.]"
"[So,]" Golo finally said. "[What did the Black Admiral do during all of this? He is not mentioned in any of our histories.]"
"[Because it is another inconvenient truth,]" Tori said. "[The Black Admiral wanted to commence rebuilding. He was ready and willing to organize the efforts to settle a dextro planet they had identified. The Admiralty refused to do so, citing fears of antagonizing the Citadel.]"
He paused. "[This time, he did not stand for it.]"
"[What did he do?]"
"[He left, and took a third of the Fleets with him.]"
That feeling that Golo had only intensified. The weight of something settling on him very slowly, as if he had been party to knowledge that could change everything…
Surely it couldn't be…
"[Loyalists, revolutionaries who'd stayed with him, and military officers,]" Tori continued, obvious to Golo's suddenly silence. "[Anyone who wanted to act, or was aghast at the cowardice of the Admiralty who didn't even attempt rebuilding. The Black Admiral confronted them, and gave an ultimatum – let them leave, and they would do so without conflict. Refuse and he would fire the first shot.]"
There was a long pause.
"[They agreed.]" Tori finished. "[The Black Admiral left, and his name and actions were lost to history. Your histories reference the 'Lost Fleet' as a few scout ships that traveled into the Terminus for resources and never returned. In a sense, that is true.]"
His eyes met Golo's again, his voice enunciating each word clearly; an intensity in voice and gaze that Golo was unfamiliar with seeing from a Quarian. "[But they succeeded, Golo'Mekk. We have found our new dominion, our new home, and soon it will be time to return and reclaim what has been lost. The Black Admiral has judged the time is approaching, and the Admiralty, the Geth, and the aliens will face the reckoning that has long been denied.]"
It was as if a silent gong sounded; an instrument that portended…doom? Destiny? Ascendance? Golo didn't know, but the implication – if it could be called that anymore – turned into revelation.
There was another Quarian civilian in the Terminus.
One that had existed for at least hundreds of years.
One that no one had known about.
Golo suddenly frowned, picking up on something Tori had said. "[The Black Admiral? A successor?]"
"[No. The same person who led us through the Hangman's Relay, into the Deep Terminus,]" Tori answered. "[He is the Living Ancestor.]"
Somehow, of everything he'd heard today, this seemed a bridge too far. Golo violently shook his head in denial. "[No. Impossible.]"
"[Your belief doesn't matter,]" Tori didn't seem offended. "[It merely is. But I do not lie about this.]"
Golo tried to appraise and assess him as best he was able to, and everything he could determine echoed that statement. Tori did not seem to be lying at all. It didn't mean what he was saying was true, but he at least believed it.
Golo could buy that the Black Admiral had been able to extend his life somehow – if the degree of genetic modification on display was any indication, it was almost certain. Yet to extend a Quarian's life by three centuries was an absurd mockery of science that defied all logic. The only way that came to mind was some kind of Redbox, but unless there had been a breakthrough there, it didn't fit.
Nor would they call a Redbox a 'Living Ancestor.' And Golo could tell that Tori was being genuine when he said the Black Admiral still lived.
Golo thought about what next to say, what the next logic step was for this. For once in his life, he was uncertain what would come next, and what the next revelation would be. He savored the moment, before speaking. "[I want to speak to him?]"
Tori went dead silent. A long minute passed before he spoke again "[I would advise against that. I am willing to tolerate you, but he is less…forgiving. Whatever you think might protect you, it will not. Your life is nothing to him, especially with how you have used it.]"
It wasn't the first time he'd heard that before, and given everything he had learned, he was not going to let that stop him now. "[I'll take my chances,]" Golo said. "[And if you hate everything I embody, then you should have no problem risking my life.]"
He expected some reaction to that, but Tori seemed to not express any emotion other than a careful neutrality. "[Very well Golo'Mekk, if you insist,]" one hand reached to place his mask back on. "[You will hear from me shortly. The consequences of what follows will be yours to bear.]"
There were a number of ways this conversation could go, but when Verona boiled it down, there were only two paths it could take.
Edat Kurass, better known as the Shifter, was one of the most well-known and powerful figures in the criminal underworld. No one with any connections were ignorant of who he was, and what he was capable of. He had clients, partners, and connections across criminal and legitimate endeavors alike.
Most people had used his services at some point, especially among the criminal elite. Yet one mistake she found that many people made is that they considered him an information broker first and foremost.
He certainly traded in information, but it was a clever obfuscation of what he really ran.
He was a spy at heart, no matter how much he attempted to pretend otherwise. The Salarian instinct for deception, lying, guile, and illusion could only be suppressed so much, and one he couldn't truly hide from.
But, be it self-preservation, or a genuine desire to break from his nature, he still tried.
It was likely the former.
Edat was the natural rival of the Shadow Broker, from his breadth of connections, to his operations in the Circle, and to his own personal distaste of the Brokers' entire operation. However, Edat had enough sense to not intrude too deeply on territory best left alone. He'd carved out a different niche, and occupied himself with things the Network had minimal interest in.
Edat seemed to fancy himself a member of the galactic elite; the high society of the galaxy formally disconnected from the underground. In this he mingled and influenced with the skill of one of the Discerning. In this he pursued his own special tastes and interests which to this day struck Verona as strange.
He funded, promoted, and financed numerous cultural and artistic foundations and endeavors – behind aliases and shell networks of course. He engaged in charity events, maintained a personal PR firm, and was a familiar face in investing into numerous start-ups and sponsoring struggling and up-and-coming artists.
Verona would have said it was an elaborate act – and to some extent she believed it was – but she was also fairly certain that he did have a genuine interest in what he supported. Everyone with power had their vices, and for once, Edat's seemed almost boring.
To the elite, he was an entertaining figure; to the criminal, he was baffling. Yet it was clear to see what he really wanted as a result of all of this.
To be part of the Big Club.
Verona found it a rather poignant indictment on the entire galactic elite where a figure like him could so easily integrate himself by just throwing enough money around. But with enough money, connections, blackmail, and intelligence, any door could be opened, be it to the Thirty, the SIX, the High Lords, or even the Council.
It never failed to amuse her that Edat had made his home on the Citadel, as a means of thumbing his nose at the authorities and nearly outright bragging about his impunity. It was fortunate for Edat that as far as criminals with that power went, he seemed to care less about using it against the powerful.
And the ironic thing was that he knew he was not part of it, and never would be.
The criminal was a tainted creature, and Edat's power extended as long as the elite considered him a figure of entertainment, rather than a threat. There was a reason the Broker had never attempted to integrate himself like Edat had, because all of it was fake, and invisible chains ensured that you could never use power for anything that mattered.
The moment Edat tried to use the influence he supposedly had to make change the elite did not approve of? Well, the doors would slam shut, and he would be destroyed as easily as he had elevated.
He was not one of them, and she wondered if he really thought he was.
One day someone was going to cut him down to size and show just how far his reach really went. One could only tempt fate so long before something thought it necessary to act. Given what she'd heard of the current CINT Director, the Shifter's days of impunity were likely coming to an end.
Edat had his blind spots, but he was not incompetent, and he was deeply connected, highly intelligent, and incomprehensibly wealthy. She expected he would escape alive, but CINT was likely not to tolerate his activities any longer.
Despite the fact that she found him interesting, she was privately glad disentangling the entire persona of the Shifter was not her responsibility this time. All she needed to do was document his part of the Circle of the Fallen.
As well as the rest of it.
Let's see how this goes.
The orange-tinted hologram came to life, revealing the form of a well-dressed, but aged Salarian, who gave her a wide smile. "Well, well. It seems that the day has become more interesting."
"Mr. Kurass," she inclined her head. "Thank you for answering."
The Salarian laced his fingers together, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. She was wary or reading into any expression, as it was almost certain he had cybernetics or modification that allowed him to display whatever he wanted her to see.
He was a very good actor, and an even better liar.
"Normally the people the Broker employs are not half so respectful," Edat said in a pleasant voice. "Though I suppose, when I've crossed paths with the Broker's people, it hasn't been under the best of circumstances."
She bypassed the innuendo, likely something he wanted to test her on. Neither party interacted directly often, but he was right that it usually was under ideal circumstances.
"I'm not here to litigate the past, nor coming on behalf of the Network," Verona said. "I am gathering information on a subject of which you have direct knowledge. Your assistance would be generously compensated."
"By whom, my dear?" Edat smiled widely. "My prices are likely beyond what you could afford. Do you mean the Broker, who you're not coming on behalf of?"
"I was not mandated to seek your direct input," Verona clarified.
"Unsurprising, I wouldn't consider myself an unbiased source either," Edat mused. "Do you really think you can trust me?"
"I trust you to act in your best interests," she countered. "I am aware of who you are, and the worth of what you can provide. These have been taken into account."
"Spoken like a true professional. Such a rare attitude nowadays," Edat uncrossed his legs, appraising her more seriously. "I do wonder if I should become concerned that the Broker is poking his nose in the Terminus. Do you think people haven't noticed you've been poking around Omega and the Clan?"
"I'd be more surprised if you weren't aware," she said. "As well as Aria, and interested parties on the Citadel. It is immaterial for me. The motivations or reasons of the Broker are not my concern."
"Of course not, this is a job for you," Edat leaned back. "One last job, so you claim. Until you inevitably decide retirement isn't suited for you."
She resisted the urge to react, though couldn't be completely surprised his intel had something on her. "That's my business, Shifter. Not yours."
"Very well, far be it from me to judge your reasons," Edat said. "But indulge my curiosity – what exactly do you hope to gain from me, that you can't gain from your friend? Golo is hardly the most…let us say 'sophisticated' of the Circle, but he is an active member."
"Golo is an acquaintance, but I know the limits of what I can expect," Verona said in a dry voice. "As a colleague of his, you likely know his reliability is suspect after a certain point. Golo has provided useful information to me, and been well-compensated for it."
She made a deliberate pause. "I am certain he has withheld certain pieces of information from me, either about his own operations, or others."
Edat nodded in seeming approval. She made a point not to read into it. "Ah, I see. You don't want me to spill the details on my operations – you want details on his."
"If you wish to share details on your own, I wouldn't turn them down," Verona said. "Though anything directly from a source has an asterisk above it. To willingly share details of your own capabilities would be…" she paused. "Questionable."
Edat surprisingly chuckled. "Questionable indeed. It is refreshing to have someone with a clear head on assignments like this; one not compromised by friendship or affection. Nor one with unrealistic expectations of what she can learn."
"I am a professional, as you so kindly pointed out," Verona shrugged. "There's a reason the Broker sought me out."
"So, I know now why you want me," Edat continued. "Now, I'm not clear why I should bother to give information on our little operation. My personal feelings on Golo aside, to give ammunition to the Network is something that could be turned against me one day. My mere conversation with you would reflect poorly on me, were it to be shared, much less providing actionable intel."
"I hope I am not being presumptuous in saying that your alliance is as shaky as the Citadel's hold on the Terminus," Verona said, crossing her arms. "Or do you want to pretend that the Circle is truly an alliance of like-minded individuals and interests, gathering together for the greater good of the region?"
"Such a cynical woman, projecting her prejudices on the hardworking criminal class," Edat lamented in a mocking voice, before his face grew serious. "You are correct in some respects, but not as clearly in others. I do wonder what conclusions you will ultimately be led to; there as many misconceptions about the Circle as there are about the Council, SPECTREs, or any power of sufficient size and complexity."
He leaned back again. "You are a professional, so it makes you less prone to slants or biases that might otherwise color the more sycophantic. It's interesting enough for me to continue indulging in this conversation. Nonetheless, my question still stands."
She took a few moments to consider her approach – and an idea came to her. One that might confirm a suspicion, or be a logical conclusion of where all the intelligence of Edat had pointed to.
Such as, what if his act wasn't as much as an act as what they assumed?
He wouldn't be swayed by compensation, not even information, both of those he had the means to acquire however much he wanted at any point. No, there had to be a better reason. He wasn't like P. either, who would act because he found it purely interesting or amusing. The Shifter was not an individual of chaos; he had his own motivations and weaknesses.
"Because the Circle is a means to an end for you; another investment you have prepared your eventual divestment from," she said. "Your future is not with them, and they are an acceptable loss if what you gain is what you really want."
Edat's expression was unreadable. "A bold claim. Said with such confidence too – and what gives you this confidence, Verona?"
She snorted. "You ask that when you live on the Citadel? When you're a regular at the parties and galas with Lords, Matriarchs, CEOs, and other figures of power? When you've poured billions of credits into endeavors that most consider wastes of capital?" She clicked his tongue. "The Circle is a criminal endeavor, Edat, and you would very much not prefer to be a criminal."
Edat was silent for a few moments, then his lips turned upwards. "I appreciate the thought put into the answer. Quite good, in fact. So I will continue speaking. You're doing quite well, I don't suppose I could entice you with a position, after your retirement?"
"My employment is not up for discussion right now," she said. "I would prefer an answer for you. I won't bother you more than once."
"Patience. You can't expect me to agree without some conversation," Edat said. "You of all people should know that with the Broker, nothing is so cut and dried. Ironically, I believe you are genuine, but you are not the Broker. You do not think like him, nor have his motives. Anything I give could backfire on me one day, even if you don't intend it."
"Is that a no?"
"Indulge me a final question, since I am curious of your answer," he finished. "I know what you are looking for now – so what stops me from making your job harder? I can't stop you, of course, but a few calls to the Circle and I suspect your costs will increase exponentially. Why not extort my silence, not assist your investigation?"
Now this one she had an easy answer to. "Because you have nothing to share."
His expression turned inquisitive. "Do tell."
"Do you expect me to believe that the Circle isn't aware of the Broker, and his interest?" She questioned. "You already admitted you knew what I was doing. And you haven't already shared this with the Circle?"
She shook her head. "Even if you didn't – what will you do? Are there known Broker sources that the Circle is letting walk around and report back? I suspect there isn't. If you merely revealing the Broker's interest in the Circle makes my job harder – then the Circle is less competent than I was led to believe, and my mission easier than I expect."
The Salarian nodded. "I'm satisfied. My proposal is this – I will answer your questions, to what can be considered a reasonable degree – on Golo's operations, and perhaps some others. In return, I receive what you've compiled for the others in the Circle – and your finished reports on the inner circle of the Terminus Clan, and Aria."
She'd gotten it.
His payment was something that might be more tricky. She doubted there would be issues with providing him the reports on the Circle or the Clan. Aria was…more dicey. That was definitely not one that she could promise. She doubted there was much on the Clan that he could exploit, but what they had on Omega could be dangerous in the wrong hands.
"I can give reports on the Terminus Clan and the Circle," Verona said after a moment. "Omega would require explicit authorization from the Shadow Broker. I cannot promise it."
Surprisingly, he nodded in understanding. "It was worth a shot. The aforementioned reports will be sufficient as compensation. Omega is a bonus, should the Shadow Broker agree."
She nodded in return. "Then we have a deal."
"Almost," Edat corrected, lifting a finger. "I want a portion of it now, as a show of good faith. Not that I'd expect you to lie, but my policy is simple. Trust, but confirm."
Verona resisted a sigh. "Do you have a preference?"
"As I expect your work on the Circle is only just beginning…" he placed the tips of his fingers together. "We can start with the Clan. I'm certain you have some finalized products already."
"Very well," she said. "I'll provide them within the hour."
"Excellent," Edat stated. "If you hold up your end, then expect everything you want – perhaps even more. I suspect our coming conversations will be quite interesting."
"As do I," she said. "Then I have work to do. We will speak later, Shifter."
"Until later, Verona. I look forward to it."
The call ended.
Well, that had gone much better than she'd expected. It was a relatively steep price, but one that she knew would pay off. As impossible as he had been to read, that conversation had given her quite a lot to think about. Enough to write up a possible addendum and send it to the psychologists.
Anything that could help unravel the persona of the Shifter a bit more was one that the Network would appreciate. She considered if the Broker would be displeased at her initiative her – but it was why he'd hired her. She was the best, and the best got the job done while minimizing fallout.
Now Edat had to come through, and she suspected he would.
She had work to do, and a new associate to keep on good terms.