The two guards had been on duty most of the day. Luckily for them they were the guards on the inside of the embassy, as they'd heard the ruckus outside, including at least one bottle breaking against a wall. They'd originally bet each other on how long the mob outside would last against twenty five trained turian soldiers, figuring the politicians and civilians outside would just give up, but somehow, over the past four hours, they'd just kept the near riot going, always taking care to stay just below the level that they would need to be removed.
Not that the guards were happy themselves. This was a stain on their people, though why it was varied by which turian you talked to. For some, it was a stain because they had found a race not willing to toe the line when it was asked of them, an affront to the might of the Hierarchy's position as protectors of law and order among the races of the galaxy. Others would say it was because one of their leaders had far overstepped his authority and ignored a direct order from the Council, a body which needed to be obeyed, just to preserve order. A final subset, smaller than the other two, but gaining ground, as just appalled at what one of their generals, supposedly the best of them all, had been willing to do to a new race, one who had not yet shown any sort of aggression.
Of course, few turians voiced their opinions to each other. Discord was not something their people could tolerate right now. They needed to show a strong face to the galaxy in the face of this disaster, and soldier through the rough patch. They had been the law keepers for over a millennium, and despite what had happened, that would not stop now, no matter what others said to them. So outside, the guards stood strong and proud against the crowd, only parting to allow a single individual in during that time, causing the two guards inside to raise their weapons, until they saw who it was.
"Councilor," they said as warmly as possible, though as she got closer, they moved to stand in her way, preventing her from entering the room.
"The Councilor is currently busy with matters of an internal nature to the Hierarchy. If you would like, we'll inform him that you wish to talk at his earliest convenience," said the taller of the two. The salarian in front of them didn't say anything, wondering idly if this matter would keep itself for a few minutes, but then decided it wouldn't. This was more important than anything that fool could be saying.
"I have urgent Council business to discuss with my colleague. This matter trumps any internal politics, and must be handled immediately. So either you can let me in, or you can knock me out and toss me outside," she declared to the two, looking up at their faces. It wasn't quite the same thing as facing down a Terran soldier, but it did take a lot of guts. Though it was probably less of respect for her, and more imagining what the crowd outside would do that finally got the two to stand aside.
"-just the beginning. Three of the sitting Protectorate Senators contacted me in the last two hours. One of them actually demanded to know how we would be reimbursing them for lost revenue, considering some of the trade agreements their agents apparently made with that Exe...oh, Dalatress," said the hologram, the visage of the current Primarch of the Hierarchy, looking almost as disheveled as the statement indicated. If the volus were willing to push against the turians, this event must have been quite the blow to their power base.
"Hello Primarch, Councilor," she said, coming in and hearing the door hiss shut behind her.
"I'll contact you later, Primarch," said the turian before her, pressing a single button on his omnitool and banishing the image of his leader.
"Ah, Dalatress, to what do I owe the-," the salarian cut him off with a gesture, and suddenly two holograms were standing there in front of him. The recording she'd been given played out, in its entirety, with neither saying a thing over the figures, though it seemed from her hard expression the Dalatress was building up words. The turian just sat there in his seat, passive as he watched himself give orders that would lead to the death of the man in front of him, as well as those of over ten thousand under his command.
"Well?" asked the Dalatress as the recording finished, and the turian didn't seem to hear her words at first, just staring at the point where Sparatus' image had stood. Finally though, he turned to her.
"Well, what?" he asked, and the tone in his voice seemed designed to get a rise from his accuser. The salarian didn't rise to the challenge though, and just stood there, waiting for him to continue. They stared at each other for what felt like hours, but was only really around a minute, before the turian's mandibles finally parted, and he let out a whistling sigh.
"Fine, if what you want to know is if its accurate, I can say yes. I figured one of your agents must have stolen it from my omnitool. A bit sloppy work, all things considered. Usually your kind cover their tracks better," he admitted at last, gesturing to a seat in front of his desk. The salarian took the offered chair, whipping her robes of office out to the side in a method that made her looked like some descending bird of prey, swooping down on him for a quick kill.
"It wasn't one of my agents that discovered this recording," she told him, and that brought the turian up short, his expression one of concern now.
"Who else knows about this then?" he asked.
"I would normally be more guarded with my sources, but considering the severity of these events, I will tell you. The Terran AI, Garibaldi, was the one to find the file He claimed to have left a small spy package in your omnitool during his leap into it," she told him, and his expression became hard as stone. She could see the wheels of his mind turning behind those eyes, probably imagining the Terrans were going to launch a full scale assault on Palavan itself. When he finally unfrozen he reached over to his desk, but she held up a hand to pause him.
"They've already left, Councilor. About an hour ago, given my information. I wanted to take some time to confirm independently with a few sources on transmissions from the Citadel to outlying fleets, before I came to confront you," she told him, and instantly that hard concern softened. If the Terrans had been wanting to harm Palavan, given the speed with which their great ship had leapt to the defense of a small farming colony, they would have done it instantly.
"If they know of my role in today's events, why would they not be demanding my head?" was the question that left his mouth, and the salarian could only shrug in response.
"I'm not sure myself. They have something against war in general, an admirable, if naïve, trait. Representative Hayes asked me to deal with the matter in the manner I see fit," she told him, and this seemed to bring the turian up short for a moment in his train of thought. Finally though, he rose from his seat and looked outside his window. Out there one could see the result of his actions, a teeming mass of politicians, businessmen, and even a few of the lower classes who had found their way onto the Presidium.
On every face that could be seen was the same expression. Fear. Oh some hid it behind rage, but none of them could hide it from a military eye. They were afraid. The, of what?, question was the big issue though. Some were afraid of the Terrans, with their huge ships and powerful weapons that could tear through a dreadnaught. Such beings could only have conquest on their minds, or so thought those with that fear. Others were afraid of the turians, seeing how ready they were to trample all over the 'rights' of the other races, ignoring how those rights they were so proud of could lead to disasters if there was no authority to keep them in check.
"How many others know about this information?" he asked at last, after staring out at the crowd. He didn't even turn away from them to voice the question.
"As of right now, myself, Mrs. Hayes and Mr. Exedore, and the AI Garibaldi. At least, I would assume they would not be speaking of this. Mrs. Hayes even ordered the AI to delete the recording, after sending me a copy," she admitted, and he turned back to her, eying her like he was trying to suss out if she were lying. When she didn't even flinch, he just sauntered over to his desk, and then leaned on it, rather than taking his seat.
"Where do we go from here?" he asked.
"They know you were involved, and are likely expecting me to bring the hammer down on you, quietly. I believe Hayes is trying to allow us to retain dignity in the face of current events, but she will be expecting some consequences for you," explained the salarian.
"And what consequences were you wanting to bring before me?" he asked her, staring into her eyes.
"Tell me, what is the situation from your people's perspective?" was her simple response, and the turian nodded at the question, standing back up, his hands at his side as he collected his thoughts.
"At the moment, the Hierarchy is still strong. This was a blow to our morale more than anything else, even with the lose of three dreadnaughts and their support ships. A full fleet was dispatched to the batarian border to keep them bottled up for now, though that will need to be reinforced if we intend on meeting the demands of the Terrans, and keeping those four eyes in line," he began this by spinning on his heel and looking out onto the Presidium, not at the crowd gathered outside, but past them, at the lovely, ordered, and sterile place beyond.
"A few krogan warlords returned to Tuchanka, including Weyrloc Guld and almost every part of the Bloodpack. Their purpose can only be to try and rally the loose clans to their banners, but they've begun infighting already, so only a single cruiser and its supports were sent to keep an eye on them. I got word not an hour ago that the latest meeting between them has turned into a battle," he continued, and suddenly the Dalatress raised her hand up, to stop him.
"Speaking of the Bloodpack, my sources confirmed that the krogan and his batarians were indeed with that group, however, who hired them and why remains a mystery," she left the statement hanged, and the turian who turned slightly so he could look her in the eye just shrugged.
"I'll admit, that is an issue. My own investigation was probably not as thorough, but it came to the same conclusion. Money changed hands, a lot of money both getting them on the Citadel in only a few days, and giving them armor with explosives in it that could get through the checkpoints on the wards. However, the best my sources could guess at was that the money represented an interested third party, possibly someone in the Terminus Systems," he said, and the salarian seemed to act like that was a weight off her shoulders, though really her contacts had come to much the same conclusion, as she gestured for him to continue.
"Patrols are stepped up all over Citadel Space right now. We have to make sure none of the usual pirate groups make any kind of disruptive action at this time. The Primarch has even ordered a few ships to tail the Migrant Fleet and keep them from entering the now restricted space. For their own protection, of course," the statement got the salarian to nod. The quarians were likely to go anywhere one could find more resources, and a whole cluster untapped like the Local Group would seem like a fine place to find them, especially with none of the usual Citadel Races rushing to claim them before they could be grabbed, irregardless of the new local super power in the area.
"So, for now, things are stable, if a bit on edge," summarized the Dalatress, and the turian, after a moment's thought, nodded.
"That would be a fair assessment, though any one event could explode the situation into a shooting war with one of a dozen powers," he told her, taking his seat again, and leaving them to just stare at each other in silence. In each mind wheels were spinning, plans were being made, but everything from their futures had to spin from this one single point.
"What are you planning on doing?" asked the Dalatress at last, and the turian just sighed at her.
"In truth, if this hadn't come to light like this, I think I would have stepped down at the end of the month. The toll this job takes at the best of times is arduous, no matter how easy Tevos tries to make it look," he informed her, and the Dalatress nodded at the statement. It was a fact that having the weight of power on your shoulders was a burden that crushed lesser beings than they.
"It's been at least six generations since a sitting Councilor from Palaven has lacked an heir, and yet, mine died over Shanxi, and I have no time select another. I think the Primarch will be allowed to select someone on his own, maybe with a few committees going over the decision after the fact. After that, I would have retired, and tried to fade into obscurity," he said the last as he spun his chair around, like some child at play. Somehow, during the course of the spin, a gun found its way into his hands, a simple pistol that he pointed straight at the Dalatress, who after the initial shock of the gesture wore off, stared at him with that hard face of hers.
"That can't happen now though. If even one person knows of my actions, knows how badly this reflects on us as a species. That the sitting Councilor would give the order I did. There are no justifications for it other than those that look to the future, to what the Terrans might become. In the here and now though, they approached us with open arms, and I stabbed them in the chest for it," he said this in the same way one would list off a school program, smiling sadly at the salarian woman before him.
"Are you truly prepared for what will come of this next action? Such things as this are not done lightly," she responded simply, her own lips still turned down in a rather dour expression, even for one of her race.
"There is an old saying among my people, that duty is heavier than any mountain. I have borne that weight upon me for so long that there's no true comparison to what I'm about to do," he told her. Outside, the two guards were still debating on how long it would take the crowd outside to disperse when they heard it. The dull thunk of an accelerator weapon tearing through flesh.
Both were trained combat professionals, and so they acted in concert, one quickly pushing open the door, kicking it when it proved to be locked, while the other provided cover, while also radioing for help. What they saw as they came in was quite a sight. In her chair, still sitting there, serene and passive as stone, was the salarian, while in front of her was a sight of death. The Councilor was leaning back in his chair, the top of his head blown away, and a gun in his hand.
"Ma'am, are you hurt?" asked the soldier near the door, as his compatriot got closer to the corpse. It was obvious the Councilor was dead, likely by his own hand, but there was no way to be sure without a full report, and both knew procedure enough to allow for a fall back, just in case this was some kind of attack. The Dalatress just shook her head and rose from her seat.
"I'm fine, young man. Though it would be best if I leave quickly. This event will only add fuel into an already volatile situation, and I must make preparations," she told him simply. Half an hour later, a hush fell over the crowd outside as a covered body was taken to a nearby aircar. Rumors flew from mouth to mouth, and finally beyond. The turian Councilor, to try and make up for what one of his subordinates had done had taken his own life Many saw this as a shame, some saw it as a fitting sacrifice and began to go home. None watched a salarian woman go towards her own office, muttering an old turian saying.
"Duty weighs on one heavier than a mountain. Compared to Duty, Death is but the weight of a single pebble," she said to herself, as she began to send out missives and notes, trying to help keep the galaxy running for at least another day.