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SUCH BELOW IS AN AUTHENTIC SLICE OF FANFICTION.
ANY DUPLICATE DISPLAYED NOT HERE WILL BE FOUND TO BE PIRATED.
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"THE PEACE OF PAPILLONS"
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"Peace is unnatural," Ambassador Donnel Udina said with the authority granted by all those listening—all Systems Alliance professionals and non-employees of the governing institution, broadcasting as he did throughout the human spheres of his audience and then some of those worlds beyond such spheres, given the privilege to attend for his words so grandiosely spoken into his micset on his ear and mouth, "…By no means does it come to be through the energy alone of one nation under our oversight…Many nations must enter the whole of it and welcome the liquefaction of sovereignty to transform into this whole mixture of cultures and religions, nationalism and fervors, apartness…Some most unwillingly," he lowered his stubbled chin to the collar of his gown, and taking a moment to let this sink into everyone. "It will take time," Udina now raised his face to the cameras, the lights, the infinite number of eyes surveying his speech, his lectern, his robes and his demeanor, his audience and surroundings…"It will not come in a day or a month, not even a year, but peace will be had by all…To prevent the horrors of what has come into our galaxy and helped unite us as one, brought us together in arms and despair as well as hope and aggression against the aggressors—the Reapers…" He cleared his throat, his hands coming together in the peaceful symbol of one circle of thumbs and index fingers, "…We may not give up until this dream is realized, the proper metamorphosis producing the crystalline vision of what we speak of this day, where we listen in from."
"There will be no peace with the way he's going about explaining it," Gala turned off the broadcast to the dismay of vocal groans and hisses from her waiting, listening crewmates, "…We can't recreate what took centuries alone for the Protheans to make before the Reapers came through and demolished everything…Who is he kidding," she sat heavily in a brown leather chair just within reach of her desk in the cabin of her Normandy, "…Not me."
"She faces the grim truth," a turian, half his maxillae missing, blue armor-clad, stepped over from the others fiddling with the reception device, "…What with bitter victory over a once thought impossible enemy, Udina will be begging you to lead his new peace objective."
"Then have you assassinated when you've become too valuable," Thane, a drell assassin who would know about such things, added, "…You are far more an asset deceased, Siha."
"Thanks, Krios," Gala heaved out a sigh, cradling the brandy in her lap, "…I'm all he has though."
"Should have stayed on the Citadel," huffed Miranda, uncrossing her arms as the speech wound again from the speaker, "…Save yourself a headache."
"Don't say that," Liara T'Soni, Gala's resident Shadow Broker and a blue as opal asari, "…She and Anderson are fortunate to have been retrieved."
Gala locked eyes with Garrus, "…Now's the time to run while you can." Friendship among them is thicker than blood, and Gala knows before any can answer that none of them would ever leave her side.
"Reapers are not out of the equation," Gala broached the subject later with their anticipated meeting…The Normandy was in drydock for repairs while the crew went off to shore leave, "…I understand you want me to head this, but the Reapers are more important than—"
"You set up the alliance among the Council races, Commander," Udina sat at his desk, "…It is what you started and the Reapers will be handled by the rest of the fleets, you cannot back down from the role, do you understand me? You must guide us into the new union."
"I can't be a peace dove," Gala said through exasperation, "…I'm a convicted murderer!"
"You will use your connections, Commander," Udina began tidying up his desk, signaling the end to their discussion, "…Do it or I will have Joker grounded permanently."
Gala stiffened at the mention of bringing Joker, her pilot, out of the Normandy because of her unwillingness to help, "…Don't make threats like that," she hissed, "…You wouldn't dare bring him out to make me do your bidding."
"It's not you, Commander," Udina pulled out a folder from his desk and slid it across the leather towards her fingertips, "…Your pilot, I'm sorry to say, is not going to be able to pass the new criteria for all Systems Alliance servicemen and women…I'm doing you a favor by not permitting the exam to be required of him…since your crew is mostly…alien." Gala flipped open the folder and ran her eyes down the list, the first of over twenty pages.
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