Tevos groaned as she laid back on the couch in her personal quarters. Not the ones listed elsewhere on the Citadel, but a set on the Destiny Ascension itself. She rarely had to make use of these, but today, of all days, she felt the need to just be separate from everything going on over there. Her embassy, once the Terrans had left, had become a hotbed for several SPECTRES to comb through, going over every fiber of that building to find any clues the Terrans had left behind as to their next move.
Sighing, mostly to herself, the asari Councilor of almost seven hundred years poured the remainder of her bottle into her cup, and then chugged it down quickly, hoping to burn away some of her feelings about what had happened today. The turian Councilor had taken his own life, apparently over some guilt he felt for what Sparatus had done. She didn't know all the details, and probably never would, as the salarian Councilor was being tight lipped as always. Still, everything ran up hill to the turians, and she knew Sparatus had been his chosen successor. To have that black mark on his record was probably reason enough for the man.
She grieved, as much as she could allow herself too anyway. This was the twentieth turian Councilor she had lived through, and, if she were honest, one of the worst ones. His kind had been growing bolder in the last few generations, always trying to assert their power, even into places where it wasn't wanted. Such open disregard for proper decorum was not something she relished. Still, it was their choice, and she recognized all the contributions they'd made to the galaxy. She would have to look in on the selection process for their next Councilor, maybe influence the decision so the seat went to someone with a bit more of a peaceful bent.
Her reverie was broken by the sound of a beep, and then followed by a subtle hum that told her the connection she wanted was finally established. Rising from her seat, Tevos walked over to the section of floor that had begun to glow slightly. The instant her foot touched it, that small glow blossomed into a radiant shine that covered her body, moving up and down her form, over every curve until it finally reached her head, then chimed twice, while two images, similar to her own became real before her eyes.
"So, you finally got the quads to call us up. This must be urgent," said one of the forms, though not in such a way that anyone else could hear. This technique wasn't new, of course. It was one of the most closely held secrets of the asari, a technique to literally project something onto the biotic field of another, enhanced with technology so it could be sent across great distances. Even if one were listening in, it was impossible to decrypt the messages being sent in this way, not unless you were a sibling, parent, or child of the other recipients. Limited though that sort of technique was, it found use for most asari wanting to talk privately with family across the galaxy.
"This is no time for pleasantries. I assume your both up to date on recent events here on the Citadel?" she asked them, and then got back laughter in return, which made her cheeks nearly turn violet in frustration.
"You mean how your allies have so thoroughly screwed up the biggest political coup of the last ten generations, letting slip through their hands the secret to a technology base that is different than any seen before," said the second figured, and Tevos just glared at her, wishing she could have said different, but knowing that such accusations were accurate.
"Good, then we can get right to the point. I have agents putting out the fires where they can, but you two are the ones I trust most out there. What's the situation like?" she asked, trying to power through the rougher bits of the discussion. The other two, either out of genuine compassion, or more likely wanting to get this call over with, got down to brass tacks.
"Illium's going to be fine from everything I see. A few of the larger volus industries are getting antsy. Seems this Exedore fella was fleecing their agents anyway, and they were dreading having to deal with a whole lot of people like him. Still, I've had to 'convince' a few of the more restless ones that breaking ties with the turians would be against their best interest," the way she said the word telling the other two exactly how she'd convinced the volus. Both looked at her sympathetically. Those tiny bastards with their grabby hands were never fun to play with in that way, but you sometimes had to make sacrifices for the greater good.
"Other than that, everyone on the business side of things is waiting this out. The Terrans aren't going to be a major factor in any industries for a while, considering they're going to close their borders to most traffic from the Citadel. You'll find more than a few higher ups in most companies grateful for that, rather than angry, all things considered. That drive of theirs is going to put every shipping magnate out of business once it hits the market, and who knows what else they've got in their pockets," said the image in front of Tevos, before taking a step back, obviously done. The other image stepped forward at this point.
"The situation is similar here on Omega and all throughout the Terminus. They'll choose the devil they know, over the one they don't any day of the week, and this is no exception. Too many unknowns when it comes to the these Terrans. Even if they wanted to, there's just no leader with the clout to get them to band together and maybe go begging at the Terrans' doorstep for aide against the Council's oppressions," Tevos let the slander and derision in the second asari's tone slide. All things considered, her being a bit glib with the Council's name was the least of today's problems.
"I've only had to pull two leashes to keep the rest in line. One Eclipse merc captain seemed to see this as an opportunity for himself. Luckily, he proved to be susceptible to my wiles. The other was a Bloodpack leader. He required a bullet to the brain before the message made it through his thick skull," she said, obviously enjoying how her tone made the other two cringe a little. Tevos got her mind back in order quickly, however, and faced the image.
"Speaking of he Bloodpack, do you have any idea yet who called for the capture of Prime Thinker Exedore?" she asked, and this seemed to bring the image up short for a moment, as she looked out of view at something, before turning back.
"I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, but no. The Bloodpack I've been able to question know there was a hit, a capture order at that, and they know it cost, and was paid in advance. Beyond that though, no one seems to have the slightest clue who was behind it, or who took the job," said the second image at last, and the other two looked at her, and then at each other.
"Let me guess, neither of you found anything on your ends," she stated, and the two had to admit, she was right. The first image was in the center of trade for almost the whole galaxy, the hub of almost every major shipping empire. Yet despite the in and out nature of that business, not one person she'd talked to had been able to give her more than the basest of information. Tevos' own leads were just as dry. A few rumors, but nothing to work with, despite this job needing high level access to dozens of C-Sec stations to get the mercs where they'd been.
"A minor set back. That information might have warmed our relations with the Terrans, but for now, I suppose it can be tabled. I'll see about getting you both some more funding for the coming weeks. Order is paramount in this time of crisis, and we can't afford to have business interest or bandit kingdoms mucking about in these delicate situations," she said this much to the shock of the other two, both of whom had expected to be cut off from outside funding for a time. To have her offer more was a boon that didn't come around often.
"Until I contact you again, just try and keep everyone happy and staying put. If my own plans go well, we should have the Council back to full strength in a few weeks," with that, she cut the transmission, leaving her alone in a darkened room, breathing heavily. Her sisters would do what they could to help her, of course, but the hardest work was about to come to her, and it would require all her skills of statecraft to maintain order in the days ahead.
Just before she was about to leave the room, another alert told her to wait. This one was urgent, a SEPCTER transmitting from some far away place, and she braced herself for yet more bad news. The operatives of the Council never contacted them directly with anything less, and considering the events of the last two days there really was no way this could be good news at all. So she pressed a button, and one of the walls of the chamber seemed to slide away as an image formed on it.
It took her a few minutes of looking to figure out what was going on, as at first it appeared to be a star field tumbling by the point of view she was looking through. Then the view turned and she saw a shape in the distance. To the Terrans, it was instantly familiar, and it was already growing to be so for most of the rest of the galaxy as well. The SDF-4, Sword of the Southern Cross. That odd silhouette would be the stuff of nightmares for defense planners in every culture for the next generation at least.
The view spun again, and she saw a startling image. Dozens upon dozens of turians, probably the crew of one of the captured ships, floating freely in space, no helmets on. At first, she thought maybe she was witnessing an execution, perhaps that they had been tossed out to die as murders. Then she realized that none of them seemed dead. In fact, they all looked around in awe, rather than fear, and she understood. They were in an artificial atmosphere envelope, like the crew of the Talons before them.
So she watched as the image moved again, and this time focused in on other shapes in the distance. For a moment, she wondered why the focus, and then the image zoomed in and she understood. The shapes looked like turians, but were in fact, armored Terrans, like Mrs. Shepard on the Presidium. They had that strange armor, flat on every surface, with only the palms and soles of the feet providing openings for the propulsion that allowed them to sail between ships, placing their hands on them in some odd way, before moving onto the next.
Only once did they stop at a ship, one of them placing a hand on board, and about to pull back, before suddenly stopping. The figure did something that sent a shudder through the ship in front of it, and then began to pound on it with a fist, before several of its fellows came by. A few began to charge their hands up, small lines of light moving over the armor to join together into a very menacing glow, only to be banished once the ship they'd been assaulting had a bay open wide, and a group of turian marines came out. Obviously they had been hiding on board, and the Terrans had somehow discovered them with those armors.
Beyond that one incident, most of the remaining crews were shuffled over to the larger ship, several of the turians looking like they were reaching for firearms, only to realize they had none, and just look despondent. Not that fire arms would have helped much, as they walked in through what was likely an airlock sized for Terrans, which meant it would have accommodated a wing of turian fighters at least, possibly more than that in fact considering some of the walls looked quite distant.
When the airlock allowed them within, the turians were greeted by the sight of boots, large, heavy ones, with more than enough weight in them alone to crush a turian flat. The one filling those boots appeared to be an officer, a female if Tevos had to guess. Then she spoke, and Tevos realized it was Miriya Sterling, the one who commanded the great ship. Most of what she said was uninteresting to the Councilor, being orders and such for prisoners, but then she did something unusual.
"We will be offloading you onto transports later today. Obviously, we can't take you to Palaven itself, as I doubt we'd be welcomed there, but our transports would be willing to take you to any port of call you can identify for them. Any attempts to lure a transport into an ambush of some sort will not end well for you, so select your destinations with care," she told them simply, before turning and leaving. They were then told to follow a line on the floor that lit up in front of them, guiding them through the corridors.
The image panned, zoomed, and refocused on everything, the SPECTRE getting as much information as they could during this very rare opportunity to observe an enemy ship. Most of what was seen was normal for ships, if an order of magnitude larger. Other than scale, the halls were spartan and bare, but every other intersection there was a Terran standing there. Most didn't seem to bother with their helmets, instead their bare faces staring down at the turians at their feet, expressions varying from sympathy to hatred.
Some carried weapons, and these were prominently displayed in the images she was seeing, with each instance being recorded in as much detail as the camera allowed. Six separate ones floated by, but as she began to mentally go over them, she realized that of the six, only one wasn't the exact same model, and even then it was at least the same type of weapon. All of them were rifle size to the Terrans, but unlike the guns she was used to, they appeared to just be long cylinders rather than the normal rifles, with only a grip on the bottom along with the trigger, and a brace on the rear for mounting it against your shoulder.
The only one that wasn't the same was an odd combination of what looked to be two boxy rifles stuck together. They were gripped differently, held by a double grip along the back that was obviously designed to separate into two separate units, one for each hand. The other strange thing was the lack of a shoulder brace, meaning these were designed to be held in the hand of the user. Thinking back, she remembered something in Vakarian's report in regards to a weapon like that, something Shepard claimed to have used in the first firefight with the Talons' support craft.
Suddenly, the scene turned loud as a gun was fired, and she watched as the view tumbled wildly, the SPECTRE agent diving down for cover. When he looked for the source of the trouble, he found it in a Terran gripping his face, a long trail of blood coming from the right eye he was holding, probably having been shot. Below him was a ranking turian, a female by the look of her suit, holding a pistol she had somehow smuggled aboard with her. She was now shouting about how they outnumbered the enemy, and would take this ship from the ones who'd murdered General Sparatus.
Above her, one of the other Terrans rushed to his fellows side. Tevos thought she heard the other Terran, a female she believed, say the name Zaeed, but she couldn't be sure, as the moment was lost in a rage filled growl. The turian kept firing throughout this, but the Terran was now protecting his face with his hands, and the gun she was wielding did little more than make plinking noises against it. Before she could think up another plan, or somehow invigorate a need for freedom in her fellows, the Terran she shot gave her a response.
The boot slammed down hard. Oddly, there was not sound of crunching bones or the like. Just one moment it was in the air above her, the next, the turian woman was gone, crushed beneath the heel of the Terran, who shouted at the turians to get moving, or he'd have to stain his armor even more. Whether it was the threat in the voice, or the demonstration of his willingness to follow through, the line of turians moved even quicker down the corridor, finally arriving at what was obviously a closet, given a huge broom standing in one corner, and all the clearly marked cleaning supplies throughout.
Once everyone was inside, the door slid shut behind them, sealing with a hiss, and the crew began to mill about. The topic on most mandibles was the turian female, and almost everyone agreed, what she'd done had been almost on par with Sparatus' blunder. Sure, she might have stood a chance against a single Terran, given a few lucky shots, but there was no way they would have been able to take the ship, even if they could have gotten around that armor on most of their foes.
Tevos watched as the turians talked, mentally noting that the usually 'shut up and follow orders' mentality that was drilled into them during military training seemed to have taken a very large crack. Then again they'd just followed a leader who had not only violated the laws they'd sworn an oath to uphold, but one who'd challenged an enemy so far beyond their capabilities that it had been suicidal at best. A few cracks in their training were bound to show up.
Next the wall beside them lit up, or rather, a few monitors at their level did, with faces appearing in them. Said faces identified themselves as Terran AIs, and asked for destinations and drop off points, getting a dozen or more answers before they were sure they got everyone, and then vanishing, leaving the turians alone in the room. The recording sped up at this point, skipping over the usual grumbling and griping that would be the norm for anyone in such a situation, only returning to normal sped as the door opened again.
Outside, there were Terrans in armor, full armor this time, with helmets and everything. The pointed towards the floor, which let up with several colored lines running along the length. They named off the colonies each line represented, and then informed the turians that anyone on board the SDF-4 when the last transport left would be considered hostile, and they'd seen how hostility was met. This threat helped motivate the turians to move fast down the corridors, eventually ending up in some kind of bay.
All around them were ships of designs that were previously unknown, and the camera seemed to try to take in every detail. Some were shaped like domes, on small landing gears, with no obvious forms of propulsion from the sides, but some heavy thrusters pointed down spaced along the hull, mostly likely making them some form of landing craft. Others were huge things, with wings that looked like they could fold out, and long noses in front, as well as engines that, while quiet now, made up a good part of the craft, fighters of some kind probably, but huge in scale.
The turians were quickly moved along past these to ships that looked like transports. Larger than the fighters, but with huge tanks on the back, these ships rested with doors open on their sides. The turians were told where each was headed, and then told to get on quick. The turians only needed a single glance at the weapons before they began to march into the ships, the view soon becoming one of a sterile looking chamber, with some lights in the ceiling illuminating a space designed for cargo and not living things.
Nothing much happened after that, the transport's door closed, leaving them in darkness, and you could hear the whine of the engines as the ship took off. A few seconds later, everything turned to static, and after that just turned off. She supposed that Fold drive the Terrans used caused some kind of interference with the recording equipment, but still, she had enough here to go over for days, and decided, after a few minutes thought, to send it on to the salarian Councilor as well.
With the job of simply watching done, Tevos rose to her feet and pulled down her dress. The Dalatress and her people would know best what to do with the data the recording gave them, but they were children when it came to sailing the great ships of state. She had six meetings with some of the volus diplomats, and even some from the elcor and hanar as well, to get to. Each one required a different, but equally delicate touch, and hopefully, when the turian Councilor arrived, she could impress on him the need for using a gentle hand rather than a fist, before he, like so many of his people lately, made a mess of things.