"Trauma is an unrelenting beast. It never quite leaves our side. But that doesn't mean we owe it a damn thing."
-Eris Morn
"You really stepped in it this time."
The familiar voice caught her off guard, and Meren's eyes flicked up from her desk, noticing the dull green Exo standing in her office doorway.
"Stepped in what?" she mumbled, looking up fully to acknowledge her colleague's presence, her focus now thoroughly broken. She wondered how long he had been standing there.
"It," the Exo replied.
The Exo in question, Hiro-3, held the auspicious position of Professor of Human History and Terrestrial Archaeology at the Academy. He'd been there for decades - even before she'd been a student. Somewhere along the way, she'd taken a course of his, and now, years later, he was probably her closest colleague at the school - a friend. In more recent years, they had lectured together on occasion, teaching joint symposiums on archeology and Eliksni cultural history. And even more recently, they had co-authored a definitive paper on the battle of Six Fronts, which had gone on to receive a record number of article views within the first thirty-six hours.
"Word travels fast." Meren gestured to a chair across from her desk, inviting Hiro to sit. "What did you hear?"
He took a seat and raised a mechanical eyebrow. "Only that some Guardian made a mess at the Tower and there was an Academy professor in attendance who made quite a scene."
"I didn't make a scene," Meren countered flatly.
For a beat, her thoughts flashed back to the events of two days prior. She saw Brelor's blood splattered across the chamber walls. She saw herself rising from her chair, shouting in Eliksni to a pinned Revys. She saw Arach Jalaal doubling down, calling in reinforcements. Everything had only gone further downhill from there, and in the end, they'd had to bodily drag her out of the room. The fact that it had taken two whole Guardians gave her no small amount of pride.
She really had make a scene, hadn't she? And yet it wasn't something she felt like talking about.
Hiro seemed to sense as much and was quick to change the subject. "You're tenured, Meren," he said. "What are you even doing here, holding down a desk? I thought you were supposed to be on a sabbatical this fall. You know, a break."
"Yeah, a break," Meren said, tiredness creeping into her voice. Even with a few months off from teaching duties, she couldn't find it in her to really relax. That just wasn't her. "I've just been doing a little freelance work with the Vanguard. Just to bring in some money on the side."
"I wouldn't consider being a military consultant to be 'freelance' work," Hiro countered, "and we both know you don't need the money. You hardly spend what you have." He leaned forward and adjusted the nameplate on her desk, straightening it. "Whatever happened to your disdain for the military?"
It was no secret to her colleagues that Professor Meren Hale had a dislike for the City's Vanguard. In her opinion, the whole of the military stank of alien xenophobia. The Guardians had rightfully earned the reputation of being pompous asses, and the elitist Commanders were no better. If given the choice, she preferred to interact with the organization as little as possible. But she didn't have that choice, did she? Recent Academy budget cuts had left her projects woefully short on funding. Not to mention that as a civilian she needed Vanguard authorization if she was to have any hope of venturing outside of the walls. Eliksni weren't exactly welcome in the City, for obvious reasons.
"The deal was it was supposed to get me out into the field," she idly picked at something on the surface of her desk. "Fast track some permits. You know, that sort of thing."
"Military consultant Meren Hale…" Hiro enunciated the words slowly, teasing her.
Her fingers stopped their assault of the desk and she met her colleague's gaze. "Can we change the subject?"
"Alright." The Exo sat back in his borrowed seat and seemed to be pondering for a moment. "How about this? Current events. Rumor has it that the Vanguard found something on the moon."
Meren didn't really care for rumors and she didn't have much interest in the moon, but she took the bait, if only to make small talk.
"I heard that what they found was a Hive Prince at the bottom of the Hellmouth, and in typical Vanguard fashion, they killed it."
"How do you think this will affect your work with the House of Exile?" Hiro asked genuinely.
Meren weighed her answer for a moment, glancing at a relic alien banner on her office wall. The Eliksni of House Exile had been holed up on the moon for Traveler knows how long. They'd survived dozens of Vanguard assaults, a Hive infestation, complete abandonment of any sensical House structure, and were somehow still clinging to existence on that desolate rock.
"It won't," she said. "House Exile makes enough problems for itself, nevermind the Hive. Lack of leadership tends to do that." She could have continued, but she knew Hiro was just trying to take her mind off things - he hadn't signed up for a full lecture on Eliksni politics. "What about your work?" she pivoted. "Are you getting anything out of that dig site at Palamon?"
Hiro shook his head. "Pretty much everything outside the City wall is restricted lately, to your earlier point. Plus, everyone is still having a hard time getting permit approvals. The Vanguard likes to take its time with anything concerning academics. Especially lately."
"Don't I know it," Meren replied.
The conversation reached a natural lull, and a quiet fell between the two of them. As the seconds stretched on, Meren resigned herself to the fact that she would need to talk about what happened at the Tower. She couldn't keep it a secret. Especially not from Hiro.
She broke the silence, careful to keep her voice even, "At the hearing...they killed him, Hiro. It wasn't an accident, it was murder. There was nothing I could do…"
"I'm sorry." He reached out his hand and covered hers with it. No matter how many times he'd touched her, Meren was always surprised by how warm it felt. "It wasn't your fault, Meren. There was nothing you could have done."
"I know," she replied, letting his hand linger on hers for just a moment before pulling away.
Right on cue, a reminder illuminated her datapad, and she glanced at it. "Shoot," she said, rising from her chair. "I need to get going."
Acknowledging the notification, she put the device in standby and grabbed her bag from the shelf behind her. As she tucked the datapad in her satchel, Hiro rose to his feet, giving her haste a curious look.
"Important business to attend to?" he probed idly.
"Yeah, actually." For the briefest moment, she'd considered keeping him in the dark, but thought better of it. "I got a summons from the Speaker last night. I'm supposed to be at the Tower in twenty."
If Hiro was surprised, he hid it well - Meren could read no emotion in his illuminated eyes.
She continued, unprompted, "I'll tell you about it next week. We'll get lunch somewhere. Maybe that ramen place in the Peregrine District."
He nodded, "Be safe, Meren."
Impressive though it was, the Academy on Earth paled in comparison to the splendor that was once the Ishtar Academy of Venus. While the City had built this new Academy with the intent of it being a bastion of knowledge, the Consensus had made it clear that scientific advancement was no longer a priority. That message was evidenced by the disrepair the building had fallen into in recent decades. Hustling out the front door and down the stairs, Meren could see it now. Parts of the facade were crumbling, and too few students lingered in the public spaces. It served as a practical, if not solemn reminder of how far humanity and their pursuit of knowledge had fallen since the Golden Age.
It was afternoon, but the City's Core was bathed in shadow by the Traveler hanging low overhead, obscuring the sunlight. Directly beneath, only extensive artificial illumination gave the residents any semblance of day or night. Occasionally the setting sun's long rays would touch the heart of the City, but Meren didn't have time to wait around to see it. If anything, it just served as a reminder to be thankful for her apartment on the outskirts, and the little bit of real sunlight she enjoyed there.
From there, Meren hurried to the public transport hub. She wanted to make it before the afternoon rush. There was no private speeder waiting for her this time. She swiped her transit pass at the gate once and it beeped obnoxiously at her, the display flashing red. Meren frowned at it, annoyed, and tried again. This time, the display flashed green and the gate slid open. Just ahead, the blue line shuttle was waiting, and she slipped into, finding a place to stand in the already-packed car. As they started to move, Meren closed her eyes and reflected on the conversation with Hiro.
It wasn't long before the shuttle began to slow again, and the next thing she knew, a loud, automated voice snapped her back to the present.
"Core East, last stop for civilian access to the Tower."
Patting her satchel to ensure it was still there, Meren disembarked and stood for an idle moment on the platform. Glancing up at the brightly-lit signage overhead, she oriented herself and headed east. She knew she was headed in the right direction when a feminine voice announced over the station speakers, "Tower ingress 100 meters ahead, please prepare for security check."
The public transport station at the Tower was in much better repair than the one she'd just left in the Core. As she made her way through the security checkpoint, the occupants seemed to be in better repair, too. She flashed her Academy and consultant credentials at the gate, and went on through. After a few minutes of wandering, she located the hospitality suite on the ground level and the bot seemed to be expecting her.
"Right this way, Professor" it prompted and led her down an adjoining corridor without further preamble. Meren had never been this way before. She didn't think she had ever been to the pinnacle of the Tower before, either.
She followed the little bot to a lift that was marked with the word Restricted. It was quick to type in an access code and the doors parted. Meren entered alone. The lift ride all the way to the top took merely a minute, but felt like an hour. When the doors finally opened at her destination, she was dumbstruck.
Stepping over the threshold and out of the lift transported Meren to another time. The Speaker's Chamber was nothing if not resplendent. It was as if she had traveled back to the Golden Age, each and every item with an aura of excess. Shelves stacked with books, their spines embossed in gold. Real candles burning on low tables near a gilded stairway. Silk tapestries lining the walls. Every last trinket caught her eye, and she couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of half of them. All she could do was stand there, transfixed. The focal point of the whole chamber was a colossal piece of machinery - half gyroscope, half telescope. Maybe it was neither. She had never seen anything like it.
So thoroughly enchanted was she that she didn't even notice the Speaker himself descending a spiral stairway from his study above.
"It's good to see you again, Professor Hale," he said, his soft voice pulled her from her reverie. He looked exactly like the last time she'd seen him, robed in all white, his face covered by a cryptic, featureless mask.
Over the years, the two had met on one or two separate occasions. Public functions each time, and few words had been exchanged, other than a polite acknowledgement and greeting. Despite that, the Speaker was probably introduced to dozens of people every day, and Meren had no expectations of him remembering her, one Academy professor out of dozens, or who she was.
When she didn't respond he continued, "Can I get you anything? A drink, perhaps?"
"No," she replied, finally finding her voice. "No, thank you." If this was about the whole trial debacle, she needed to have all her wits about her.
The Speaker extended a wordless hand, gesturing to a plush sitting room. Meren followed, taking his lead and accepting the seat that was offered. The sitting room boasted an expansive window that treated them both to a sweeping view of the City, the Traveler hanging motionless above its center as the dying sunlight slowly turned the horizon a brilliant shade of ochre.
After taking a seat, the Speaker folded his hands. "I wanted to begin by extending my apologies for what happened. The events that transpired were most egregious, and the Consensus is in agreement that such a frivolous act of violence should never again repeat itself within our City's walls."
"I appreciate the gesture," Meren replied, "but a simple apology isn't enough to make up for an extinguished life."
"You speak truly," the Speaker replied, his voice curiously emotionless. "This deed was most...regrettable."
Meren didn't feel regret from him at all. In fact, with that damn mask on his face she wasn't getting, well, anything. She nodded curtly.
He stood then and walked a few steps to stand before the expansive window, back to her. "You were promised a chance to further your research in exchange for the services you provided to the Vanguard. It has come to my attention that our side of the agreement has not been…upheld."
She blinked, caught off guard. It was true that in exchange for her work the Vanguard had promised her access to old Eliksni encampments outside the City's confines. Encampments that she had yet to see. Originally, she'd been promised contacts within the House of Kings, too, but over time it had slowly dawned on her that the Vanguard likely had no Eliksni contacts at all. And all this came after Meren had, for months, provided the Vanguard Commanders with translations and tech breakdowns. Briefings on Eliksni weapons and social hierarchy. Transcriptions and revisions. She'd been subjected to unending stupid questions and queries and, not once, had she been able to sit down and just talk with an Eliksni. Well, that wasn't entirely true. They'd tasked with talking to some. Their political prisoners, doomed and dying, locked away beneath the Tower. It had flabbergasted and enraged her when she'd first found out, and she had done all she could, knelt in the gloom, sitting on that cold stone floor, comforting the ill as they faded away without a sufficient supply of life-sustaining Ether. But all that had been done out of mercy. It wasn't a part of the deal, and she loathed the Vanguard for it.
Meren dared to hope as the Speaker continued, "As of present, it is too dangerous for you to venture past the walls," He turned to glance at her, his masked face revealing nothing, "but I have another proposition for you."
She was listening.
"A call has gone out, and the Reef has been opened to the Vanguard," the Speaker trailed off for a moment. "Mara Sov has lost control of the House of Wolves, it seems."
Meren was very aware of recent events concerning the Wolves' blossoming rebellion in the Reef and the resulting prison break. Originally, she'd expected the Awoken to quash it, just as they'd stopped the Wolves in their tracks a century ago. Yet as the weeks dragged by, the news only showed the situation deteriorating to the point where the Wolf Kell, Skolas, was making a fool of the Awoken Queen. Now, it sounded like the Queen had finally reached out to the City, beseeching the Vanguard and their Guardians for aid.
"And what's your proposition?" Meren asked, finally showing her interest.
"The Vanguard will make all necessary accommodations for you. Travel to and from the Reef. You will be a guest of the Queen. Variks already knows you're coming," he offered, spreading his hands.
"Variks," she repeated. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it.
Not wanting to look too eager, she pretended to weigh her options before extending a hand to the Speaker. "That sounds amenable."
He clasped her hand, then. The deal was done.
The sun had sunk lower on the horizon and Meren knew it was time to go. She thanked the Speaker for his hospitality, probably a little too enthusiastically, and went to take her leave. There was a lot of packing to be done. Standing, she adjusted her satchel over her shoulder and took one, last look around the Speaker's Chamber.
Her host acted the part of a gentleman and escorted her back to the lift. But, as the lift doors opened and Meren stepped in, he folded his hands in front of himself and asked one final, cryptic question, "What is it that you're truly after, Meren?"
Caught off guard, she weighed his words, not sure how to interpret the question.
"I'm..." she started slowly, words failing her. What was she after? Was he referring to her work with the Eliksni? Surely she wanted something for them. But what? Justice? Amnesty? Integration?
Still, she knew it wasn't her place to speak for them, not for her to decide. She couldn't decide for herself either.
"...I don't know," she finally said.
The lift doors closed, cutting her off from the Speaker, leaving his question unanswered.
