The Council Chamber was quiet. Not deathly so, one could still hear the scuttling feet of the keepers, and a few hums and whines of the various machines, but the people that would normally be present were absent, cleared away by Council order. The only people remaining were the batarian ambassador, the Council themselves, and a handful of guards, all of them staring nervously at the space in front of them, into which was projected a holoimage of a Terran standing over a group of prisoners.
"This turian was with the recent raiding party. The weapon he used was very much designed to counter Terran physiology, a harpoon that drained the protoculture from a Terran body, converting it directly into electrical energy. What's more, the batarians had a jamming device that worked on fold space communications. Would you care to explain these things?" said the voice in front of them, and the Council looked at each other, before turning to face the Terran.
"We have no idea why you would be asking us. To the best of our knowledge we have no devices like the ones you're describing. Are you implying that in some way we had something to do with this raid?" asked the turian Councilor at last.
"Of course not, but in the interest of our relations, we wanted to make sure you had no prior knowledge of this technology. As that is the case, I will, of course, assume that this turian is not an agent of the Council," she said this while pointing down at her foot, the turian there just staring at the Council, the image conveying well his cold, glassy stare at them.
"That is correct. We would never violate the space claimed by the Federation, and have no plans to end that policy now, let alone try and capture one of your citizens," responded the turian again, and the Terran nodded thoughtfully.
"If that is the case, then he is to be considered a pirate, that makes him hostis Terra generis, an enemy of Terra. Do you have any objections to that assessment?" asked the Terran, and the Council just shook their heads.
"Then so be it," and with that, she raised her foot up. While she wore no helmet, she was wearing the armor that had become an image to frighten children in the last six months. When the foot was directly over the turian, who just sat there, defeated, the armor whined for a moment, before a gout of blue fire seemed to shoot from the sole, engulfing the figure of the turian.
The fire reduced him to a silhouette, and it made it so he had no air with which to scream, but the image of him showed he was clearly doing so. Luckily for him, his body gave to the flames quickly, and a second later, the Terran set her foot back down, the holo showing only a small burn on the floor in front of her where the turian had been, not even ash remaining of him.
"That issue is settled then," she said, and seemed about to turn off the transmission, when the batarian raised his arm up in an accusatory point.
"And what of the batarians you're still keeping prisoner?" he demanded, and the Terran's image turned from the Council to face him, the three member body staring at the idiot, wondering what trouble he was going to bring on them.
"We had assumed you would claim they were pirates as well. Is this not the case?" she asked.
"Of course they're pirates, but they're still citizens of the Hegemony, and that means we do not allow foreign powers to execute them, let alone keep their vessels. As a representative of the batarian government, I formally demand the return of those prisoners and ships," he said, and the Terran looked down at him, obviously considering he next words very carefully.
"I'm afraid we're at an impasse. Terran law will not allow the return of pirates to their government, and all their ships and belongs have already been confiscated by the law enforcement division of our military. As colonial governor of Armestris those, I can tell you right now, those ships are forfeit due to their use against our citizens. Unless you want to tell us that the pirates were in some way connected to your government," she said this in a neutral tone, but everyone present, including the guards, knew she was baiting him. If he admitted the ships were, well, it would be a near declaration of war against the Terrans, a war the batarians would not win.
"They were completely independent of our decisions, but the ships themselves were still the property of the Hegemony," he responded.
"Well then, they were already lost to you when these pirates got a hold of them, so you've lost nothing to us, but to your own people. I would think you would take this as a sign that you might want to up the security on your ships so that pirates can't take them on raiding missions," she said, and the batarian ambassador just stared at her, trying to think of a response to that, but didn't get the chance to before the Terran turned away from him.
"I have other business that needs attending to today, as such, I will bid all of you farewell, and a hope that we can avoid encounters like this in the future. Governor Winry Rockbell of the Terran Colony of Armestris signing off," and with that, she vanished, the batarian just left sputtering out an insult to the woman, before beginning an hour long argument with the Council on the merits of declaring war against the Terrans for their trampling on the rights of batarians.
It took that whole hour to finally convince him that war was the least desirable outcome, and that he was lucky the Terrans had decided to treat his people as independent pirates, and not as the force of the batarian Cultural Committee they actually were. A protest of that fact was cut off, as Tevos told him directly that they knew precisely who those ships represented, and that any farther 'appropriation' attempts in Terran space would result in the expulsion of the batarians from the ranks of the Citadel races. At that, she invited him to leave, as they also had other work to get on with, and he left without farther protest, allowing the business of state to continue.
OoOoO
The group of batarians looked around the room they were in. It was dull green walls all around, with no obvious doors in the walls, save the large bay door which they'd entered from. Questions had been asked of them before the Terrans had loaded them in here. Most of them centered around officers and who was in charge. Much to the dismay of many of the crew, this had to be answered by telling them those in charge had been the bridge staff of the cruiser.
This answer made the batarians apprehensive. Stories had been circulating for months that the Terrans executed pirates and many had been expecting that once the questions were answered, they would find themselves smashed beneath the boot heels of the ones doing the questioning. Instead they had been herded like cattle into the cargo holds of various transports, which sealed them inside with an almost deathly sounding woosh, like the air leaving a dying body.
They expected that when that door opened next, it would be to deep space, or possibly a star, or even a world into which they would be thrown bodily, burning in the atmosphere as a warning to others. All these were talked of execution methods, rumors spread by the Hegemony government among others. Some believed them to be just that, rumors, lies by the leadership to make them less likely to surrender. Still, everyone winced as the bay doors finally opened, and they braced themselves for death.
That death did not come. Instead of space, a star, or anything that might have been deadly, a sweet smelling aroma wafted into the cargo hold. Many a batarian sniffed at the air, before they began to drift out of the bay, and out into the light. Outside was a garden world, a nice one, with rolling fields all around save the transports that had brought the crews here, and a few yards distance, the start of a massive city, with skyscrapers and buildings of odd designs.
Murmurs were spoken, as the batarians all began to look around, questions passed back and forth among themselves, trying to puzzle out this turn of events. When the transports lifted off once empty, leaving them alone here, they had that same question, until finally, answers came. Said answer was another batarian, a young one at that, probably only just in his twenties, driving an oddly designs vehicle, with wheels instead of the normal hover design they were used to.
"Ah, the new arrivals. We've been expecting you. Okay, who here is in charge?" asked the young man, and the groups looked amongst each other. Only a few lower ranked officers remained, but after a bit of wrangling amongst them, three men stepped forward, the young man motioning them close to himself, before pressing a button on his omnitool and creating a privacy screen around them, allowing them to talk without anyone else overhearing.
"Alright, before you ask anything, I've already been through this about six times, so I'll just answer the basic questions that tend to get asked. No, you are not going to be executed. If they wanted to do that, the Terrans would have. They tend not to punish soldiers for following orders," he began, and the three nodded, the lieutenant-commander speaking up.
"So we're to be put to work in a mine or the like then?" he asked, and for some reason, this caused the young batarian before them to laugh, his four eyes unfocusing just that slight bit that showed he was somehow insulted by the question.
"Listen, just what about this place screams mining colony to you?" he asked, sweeping his hand over the city before them, and the three looked more closely at it. Huge buildings, not Terran huge, but still all over twenty stories, and made of a mixture of glass and metal, stood strong before them.
"This is not a slave labor camp of any sort. The Terrans do their own mining, and they do it far better than anything we've got. So no, you won't be mining," he explained, and the three just stared at him dumbstruck.
"Then what will we be doing?" asked another, a plain lieutenant this time.
"That depends on you. How many of you are there anyway? I wasn't told even an estimate, just that you'd be coming down today," he asked, holding his omnitool up to his face as he began to scan some datafile. The three looked at each other, trading a few figures as they did so, before the lieutenant-xommander answered.
"Standard formation, one cruiser, six frigates. With the command bridge destroyed during battle, we lost a good hundred of the cruisers two thousand crew, which, with the frigates' hundred apiece leaves us with around twenty-five-hundred souls at our command," said the final member of the party, a commander.
"Ah, good, I can fit you all into a single tower then," said the young man, as he began to go over more data, before projecting an image of the city for them on the ground.
"Okay, it's a bit of a walk, but the tower at ninety-three degrees on the edge of town would probably be the best place for all of you. I'll arrange for keys to be waiting in the lobby by the time we get there, so you can pass them out to your people as you see fit. Luckily, there should be enough for everyone to have their own room, but anyone who desires can probably share bunks if they want," said the kid, and once again, the three just stared at him.
"What is going on here?" demanded the commander at last.
"I'm making sure you're taken care of. Unless you'd like to wander the grass or something first. I know a few new arrivals who choose that route. Wouldn't recommend it myself though. No animals or anything here, the trek is just kind of boring, and this is the only city on the whole planet," he pointed out.
"So you're just sitting here? What about escape? Have you got any sort of plan to contact homeworld?" asked the commander.
"Ah, one of those types. Tell me, you mentioned that the command bridge was destroyed. Did they refuse a Terran surrender?" asked the kid, and the three nodded.
"Yeah, stupid of them," he said, and the three focused their eyes on him. It was obvious from the way he carried himself, the kid was former military, and one did not speak of a superior officer, especially one who fell in the line of duty, so disparagingly.
"Terrans offer you one chance to surrender. After that, they go for the kill, If they capture you instead, and that does happen sometimes, they'll take you alive, but otherwise, it's an almost certainty that you're going to die," he began, leaning back against the vehicle he'd been driving.
"That's the story of everyone here in the Ward. This city is where the Terrans are keeping us. Pirates, raiders, slavers, and smugglers. We're criminals, all of us. If we gave up, they bring us here. Depending on the crime, they execute the leaders. Slavers especially seem to get the heel of their boot. After that, the crews are dropped off, and told to just stay out of the way," he gestured around him at the city and the three looked to find a few others emerging from buildings. Krogan, turians, even a few asari, vorcha and drell.
"Why keep us here? Isn't this a drain on resources?" asked the lieutenant-commander, and that seemed to set the kid off, laughing as he held his head to steady himself, before finally calming after a minute.
"Drain? This whole city is barely a drop in the bucket for them. I've been here three months, along with the first hundred thousand prisoners of the Ward, so I got to see how they built this place. Tell me, how long would it take one the Council Races to build a place like this do you think?" he responded.
"A few months or so," was the instant response. The city was big, after all. The street they were looking down stretched away beyond sight, and so did the edges of the place. It was several miles wide, and the same long, with every visible building being about ten stories tall.
"I think you're giving them too much credit, but that's beside the point. The Terrans built this place in about ten minutes or so," he told them, and that knocked them off their feet, only the commander able to keep balanced as that information hit home. They would have claimed he was lying, but all the stories, all the tales their government let spread of the Terrans' wickedness, said it might be true.
"How?" was the next question on all three of their lips.
"SCP-001, the Factory. That thing is how. It's the size of a blasted planet, and it darkened the sky overhead, a huge tube coming down and just pounding into the land, allowing us to watch as tiny arms came out, and constructed this place. I could still feel the heat on the window in my apartment when I got into it, and I don't think I was the only one to spend the first day or so just staring at it," said the kid, getting a very distant look in his upper eyes, while closing the lower as he imagined that day again.
"According to the Warden, they use that thing to build their own colonies too. It harvests matter from a star, and then builds anything they need. From what we've been told, they live in a post scarcity economy because of the thing. Anyone who wants something can just order it from the Factory, and get it in a few minutes with those fold drives of theirs. So you see, making us mine a planet would literally be a waste of time for them," and as he spoke, the commander finally sat down too.
"Then why are we here?" he asked as he sat there, all four eyes staring at the ground.
"Because they know we can be better. Everyone here was a soldier at some point. Ancestors, some of us were soldiers when they caught us, even if we can't admit it. They seem to see an honor there, and not one they want to violate. They think, if we can be led by someone with that same honor, we can be useful to them," came the response.
"They want us to betray our people?" said the lieutenant incredulously.
"I don't know, really, that's just how the Warden described it. Myself, I've been here three months, and I would sign up with them in a heartbeat. They treat us fairly, respect us as people, and don't force us to do anything for them. That's better than how we treat the plebs back home," he said, and the lieutenant seemed about to argue, but then stopped. It was better than the plebs, the lowest rung of batarian society, was treated. Heck, it was better than most soldiers were treated.
"What about food? I see no farmland around here, so is that shipped in as well?" asked the commander.
"You got it. The supply ship comes down once a month or so, with enough for everyone. It too, comes from the Factory," he explained, and they stared at him skeptically, that fact being just a bit too much.
"They make food? Out of stars?" said the lieutenant.
"From what we've been told, yes. They apparently have some cloning pods on the Factory that can convert star stuff into biomass. I would joke here about how it tastes like metal, but it doesn't. It tastes great," he said, smirking and chuckling, as if at some joke only he got.
"So, we just live here. Fed and housed, like pets?" asked the commander, finally getting to the heart of the matter.
"You can. A few of us do treat this place like a vacation. But they'll try to keep you busy, if you want. I know a few science officers are helping the Terrans design stuff on the west side of the city. There's more than dozen places to train in military arts, from hand to hand to space battles. I even here there's a paint gallery opening up soon for those with the eye for it," he offered, and they all nodded. No blank stares now, just acceptance of their situation.
"Only three rules here. No attempts to assault or kill another sentient here, no attempts at outside communication, and if the Warden says do it, you do it, no questions asked," he said this while pushing a few buttons on his omnitool, turning off the privacy field. The three officers got to their feet, and then watched as he turned towards the city.
"Warden!" he shouted, and the other three, rising to their feet again, wondered where the Terran was he was shouting for, only to be shocked for a final time, as instead of a lumbering giant, an image was projected in front of them. It was about as tall as they were, but much thicker in build, and without the features one would normally see on an organic being. It didn't take a genius to know that this was an AI.
"Are they ready for integration, Charn?" asked the projection in a male voice that sounded a lot like a butler or some other servant type.
"I think I've explained things to these guys as well as I can. We're gonna need the tower at ninety-three ready with keys and things for them," he told the projection, which nodded as it pointed an arm into the city. Suddenly the road ahead lit up, and began to show a glowing line that turned on a street in the distance.
"I have begun the preparations. If you would follow the line, your domiciles will be ready when you arrive. Please, if you need anything, simply call of me. My sensors are all over the city," said the projection, and then vanished. The men, who had heard none of the explanation, demanded one now, but the officers quickly brought them back into line, and then the batarian soldiers marched towards their prison.