A/N
WOOO This story now has officially passed 2000 followers! Thank you all for being part of this story.
Not much to say. It's after midnight and I have an early morning. Response to the combat scene and death in the last chapter was overwhelmingly positive. Oddly enough, everyone seemed to like the use of the blood eagle. Also, I didn't set out trying to make it seem that it was asari-centric. I just found that their universal adaptability made it easier to use them, so I did. And while Brock doesn't like human organisations or governments, he doesn't hate humans as a whole. I felt that needed to be clarified after some reviews I got.
It's stinking hot here at the moment and I don't have air conditioning.
On with the story!
…
PFTG Chapter 27
LAST OF THE TIMESKIPS
It had finally come time to face the music. She had been gone from her people for two years. Now she was about to go back with her Pilgrimage gift to the Flotilla and hope that they would make her new berth an honorary ship of the fleet and let her and her fellow quarians stay on with their current boss for as long as possible. Hectar was by her side while Misol was still back on the Balrog with the other engineers and the rest of the crew.
Ely was already missing them. Especially Aleria.
The cheerful asari had been her best friend since she joined up with Brock's crew and she found herself not wanting to be separated from Aleria and the rest of Brock's core group. They were doing so much good! Brock had defended her and stood up for her from the very beginning. He was doing more to help her people than perhaps anyone else that wasn't a quarian in the galaxy.
The upcoming reaper invasion was another reason she wanted to stay. The preparations were going at a blistering pace but she was concerned that there was so much to do and so little time. Even with how he was delegating tasks, Brock was still taking on so many things himself that she was worried that he was going to burn out. While she knew that she couldn't do as much as either a mechanic or a quarian, Brock still was able to make her feel useful for her other talents and she knew it took the stress off a little knowing that Ely was a loyal member of his crew, unlike how Carlos or Sel had been. The human needed help.
The shuttle jostled as it touched down in the landing bay of the capital ship of the Civilian Fleet, the Qwib-Qwib. It was a tradition for all quarians returning from pilgrimage to report to the Civilian Fleet and meet with all five admirals of the Admiralty Board, along with any captains that had available room on their ships for new members. The admirals would judge a gift and once considered acceptable, the captains would present their offers to Pilgrims and the Pilgrim would make their choice on which ship they wanted to move to.
"Pilgrim Ely'Hael nar Qarat, Pilgrim Hectar'Galon nar Isareel, welcome home," a quarian with a lieutenant tab on his shoulder greeted them once they had disembarked the shuttle. If you will please first move through decontamination, we will be able to move you through to the conference room. The admirals have already arrived."
Ely nodded and felt Hectar do the same from her left and they moved over to a bulkhead to the side of the docking bay where a small number of cubicles had been set up for secondary decontamination. All ships had decontamination as part of the airlock, but quarians had a secondary decontamination set up inside the ships to prevent external bugs that might make it through the airlock stage. It was just another thing that set quarians apart from the other races.
After passing through the secondary decontamination the made their way out of the landing bay, and passed through the doorway into the hallways beyond.
Two years away from the Flotilla and being out on Brock's ships the Enterprise and the Balrog, which were both criminally undermanned as far as her good quarian senses were concerned, had made her forget about how crowded the ships of the Flotilla were. While a large ship like the Qwib-Qwib was slightly less crowded than most of the normal ships of the Fleet, it didn't mean that it wasn't still overfilled with people beyond what it should have.
The lieutenant led them through crowded hallways where curious quarians watched them pass on their way to the conference room. She didn't know anyone based on this ship so she didn't really pay attention but she did see Hectar wave to an older man with a patch on his suit identifying him as an electrician.
Finally, nearly five minutes later, they stepped into the large conference room, that on a normal ship would be a briefing room, to see the full Admiralty Board standing behind raised podiums at one end, clearly waiting for them. Along the walls of the conference room about forty captains from the various fleets were standing around, watching and waiting to see who would be willing to take the new former Pilgrims.
"Ely'Hael nar Qarat and Hectar'Galon nar Isareel," began the admiral standing in the centre, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, head of the Patrol Fleet. "We welcome you back home to the Migrant Fleet and congratulate you on the successful completion of your Pilgrimages."
"Yes," another admiral, Han'Gerrel vas Neema spoke up. "It is always gratifying to see our people safely return to us once their Pilgrimage has been completed. Though it is not often that we get two Pilgrims on the same day."
"I think we can all agree that, while it may feel like the focus is not all on you individually," Admiral Zaal'Koris of the Civilian Fleet cut in, "it is not a slight to you and indeed we are doubly celebrating your safe return."
"I look forward to seeing how your gifts will benefit our people," the Special Projects leader, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh said.
"Indeed," the last admiral in the group, Rael'Zorah, said in a no-nonsense tone. "And while your return is a cause for celebration, I am sure that you would like to get assigned to your new ships so that you can finally be recognised as no longer being nar your respective family ships, but becoming vas members of our Fleet. To do so, we must first examine the gifts you bring with you for our People. Hectar'Galon nar Isareel, you shall be first. Please step forward and summarise your experiences and share your gift with us."
Ely saw Hectar's hands twitch nervously but that was it. He had come a long way from the jumpy little technician that she had first met and she was proud of him. And unlike what Aleria suggested, she was happy that her fellow quarian was her friend, and nothing more.
"Greetings and thank you for your kind words, Admirals," Hectar said, his voice barely quavering at all. "I was extremely fortunate to have joined up with a human who had just started a new company and needed help from a programmer and technician, which I was able to do. He paid me well and I actually was also working with Ely.
"Most of our work was based out of his ship. He had me do a range of jobs that led me to think of new ways to do some programming tasks and Brock was very good at valuing his crew. He even got involved in the freeing lots of slaves. He also offered me training as a soldier for ground teams, though I never went on missions for him as a soldier. He did use me for maintaining and coordinating communications for the ground teams as he respected that I was uncomfortable with it. However, during the course of our activities, we were able to rescue at least thirty of our people who had been captured or sold into slavery and helped return them to our people."
A scattering of murmurs echoed around the room as the various captains talked quietly to each other and a couple of the admirals twitched slightly and turned to look at each other before turning back to Hectar.
"Interesting," Admiral Gerrel said. "Please continue."
Hectar nodded. "As thanks for my service, he gifted me three new light-cruiser class freighters that are waiting to be picked up in an empty system. I have the coordinate here," he activated his omni-tool for emphasis. "All we need to do is send a few crews over for sanitation and we are free to take them whenever we want. He even offered to install some weapons batteries if we were to request it of him."
The murmurs returned much louder this time and far more excited than they were before. This was of course a big deal. More ships meant that the Fleet would be able to reduce the strain on some of the overpopulated ships as well as possibly retire some of the oldest and least functional ships. They could be scrapped for whatever parts were worth salvaging and the quarians living on them would no longer be worried about the ship dying suddenly.
"That is truly a wonderful gift," Admiral Koris spoke up. "It would be a great benefit to our people. We thank you for it. Once we have heard from Ely'Hael, you may speak to the captains to find out where you would like to make your new home."
Hectar briefly twitched his head toward Ely. She could see that he wanted to say something more but was willing to wait until her gift had been given.
"Yes," Admiral Raan said. "If there is nothing else, I believe that we can hear from Pilgrim Hael."
Ely took a deep breath and let it out slowly to settle her nerves. She hadn't been nervous before but speaking to the Admiralty Board, especially with the proposition she was going to make… it was slightly unsettling.
"Thank you, Admirals," she began. "As Hectar said, I was also employed by the same human as he was. I worked mostly as chief engineer, working on the engines and on several designs that focussed on element zero systems. He had me run other tasks as well but nothing concerning to our people.
"I want to note that the man we worked for, Brock Nielson, the founder of Shieldstar, was extremely fair to all his quarian staff. He expected our bests efforts and he rewarded us very well. At the end of our Pilgrimage, he gave me a very… interesting gift. But he wanted to make a proposition for you too. I have a recording to put on here that I think you will all find to be of great benefit to our people."
She fiddled with her omni-tool and a small drone flickered to life on her belt. It buzzed a little bit, then floated up just in front of Ely and turned on some holographic emitters. The lights formed into a life-sized image of Brock in a formal suit.
"Greetings members of the Admiralty Board of the Migrant Fleet," Brock said. "I am Brock Nielson, president of Shieldstar Corporation. For the last year or so, I have had a few quarians under my employ. For the most part, they have been diligent, hardworking, honest and trustworthy members of my crew and I view them as my dear friends.
"I am aware that I am an outsider. I am not a quarian, nor a part of the Migrant Fleet. I am just a human, trying to do some good in the galaxy. And doing that good with me since the days I founded my organisation has been both Ely'Hael nar Qarat and Hectar'Galon nar Isareel. And while I am aware of the Pilgrimage and how they work, I am hoping that a deal can be made to let my friends stay with me a little longer. Not forever, mind you, just working with me for a few more years before they return to the Migrant Fleet. I have the details of my request with my friends and am hopeful that you will accept.
"As for the gift that my friend, Ely'Hael nar Qarat, needs to supply to the Fleet, I have given her something that I must confess is not just a gift from her alone. Rather, it is a thanks for the help that her, Hectar, Misol and all other quarians that have worked with me for the last year or so have given me."
The hologram flickered and changed into the image of a planet. The surface was a mix of greens, browns and silver, with water covering around forty percent of the surface.
"This here is a planet suitable for dextro-based races, such as yourselves. It is currently unpopulated by sentient beings and I believe I was the only person who knew its location until I gave the coordinates to my quarian friends here. It is full of resources that have not been tapped by the current Citadel races, who I am fairly sure don't even know it exists yet. It is far enough away from the Relay system that any Citadel Patrol fleets wouldn't bother going there, nearly five days from the nearest relay. This planet is my gift to Ely for her Pilgrimage."
The image flickered back to Brock. "Please don't misunderstand, this is not meant to be your new home world, nor to replace Rannoch or stop you in your efforts to get there. I am hoping that you will use this planet as a base of sorts, to build yourselves up anew, to learn to farm again and prepare for the return to your home world. Here you can place your civilians so that if a ship gets attacked, you don't lose everyone, but you have people kept safe and away from the danger. You can repopulate without worrying if you have the ships to maintain the increase because you now have a whole planet to build up.
"This planet is yours, regardless of whether or not you agree to our deal. I will say that having my friends working with me will allow me to help your people in other ways later on. Think of it as my enticing you to let them stay with me, if you need to. Regardless, for now, I thank you for your time and hope you will consider my offer."
With that, the hologram flickered off and the drone returned to Ely's belt. Ely took a moment to look around the room at the now completely silent and, judging by their body language, stunned crew.
"A planet," Admiral Koris breathed out in awe. "You were given a planet as your Pilgrimage gift. Keelah, I… I don't… "
"This is extraordinary," Admiral Raan took over. "We have a place where we can begin to rebuild, to strengthen our people."
"It's not Rannoch," Admiral Zorah objected mulishly. "It's not the home world."
"No, Rael, it's not the home world," Admiral Koris shot back. "But as the human said, it is a start to getting us back to the home world."
"He's right," Admiral Xen spoke up, her body unnaturally stiff. "We would have to be incredibly stupid to ignore a planet as a gift just because it isn't the home world. The research we could conduct there without having to worry about blowing open a ship and killing the whole crew would be invaluable."
"Not to mention getting the majority of our civilians off of ships and freeing them up as combat vessels," Admiral Gerrell cut in. "This is too good an opportunity to pass up."
Admiral Zorah grunted unhappily and crossed his arms but didn't speak any further. Ely remembered hearing a rumour that the admiral's daughter, Tali'Zorah, had left on her pilgrimage a few weeks ago. Maybe the man was missing her, or maybe he was just stubborn, she didn't know.
"Face it, Rael," Admiral Raan spoke up gently, "our people need this more than we need the home world right now. With the geth fleet between here and Rannoch, we risk being wiped out before we accomplish that goal. This gives us the chance to build up and increase our numbers. We will be able to fight back sooner."
"We will still need to send out our youngsters on Pilgrimage, of course," Admiral Xen said reasonably. "Just because we have a planet now doesn't mean we have the ability to use it to its full potential, and we still have a Fleet that needs to be maintained. This just means we can start focusing on how to grow crops, build infrastructure and populate our people passed the current allowable maximum number. With more quarians, we will have more soldiers, pilots and fighters. Even someone as stubborn as you must realise the magnitude of this gift, Zorah."
Ely watched as Admiral Zorah tensed even further for a long second, then dropped his arms and let out a sigh. "Fine," he grumbled. "As long as we don't grow complacent and forget our ultimate goal. Now let's change topics to the other half of the human's message. Asking for these two to continue working for him."
"I'm all for it," Admiral Xen spoke up instantly. "If this is the type of gift that he can give our people and all they have done is work for him for a little more than a year, I look forward to seeing what else he would be willing to give them if they stay longer."
"I disagree," Admiral Gerrell replied sharply. "Now that we have a planet, we will need every available hand to start our people on this new path. We could use their skills to help us further. We need them more right now."
"As much as it pains me, I agree with Han," Admiral Zorah cast his vote. "Our needs come first."
"I vote with Daro," Admiral Koris said. "This person has been extremely generous and helpful to our people. At the very least, staying with him encourages him to continue aiding our people. And if nothing else, he has helped free our Pilgrims who have been captured by mercenaries and sold as slaves. You have all seen the reports. We our him gratitude. If letting him hire these two is all the thanks he needs then I believe it would be a good trade."
There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room looked at Admiral Raan. She considered Ely and Hectar for a moment. "Before I cast my vote," she said, "I would like to know your opinions. Do you want to join with ships of the Fleet, or would you prefer to return to Captain Nielson?"
Ely shared a brief look with Hectar. "I can't speak for my fellow Pilgrim here," Ely began cautiously, "but I considered this very question on my way back here. The Fleet is my home, as it is for every quarian. We seek the home world, but all I have ever known is the Flotilla. But in less than two years, Captain Nielson has helped me personally, stood by me and given me the means to help my people return home to Rannoch, more than any other person has helped our people. I owe him more than I can say. Because of this, and because of my friendship with him, I would like to return to work with him for a time."
"Same for me," Hectar spoke up nervously.
Admiral Raan looked at them for a moment longer. "Well," she said eventually, "I can't fault your reasoning. If you both feel strongly about this then I see no reason why you should not be allowed to return to your previous ship. But you still need to be placed on a quarian vessel. if we were to name you after Captain Nielson's ship, it would give the appearance that you have been exiled."
That was not something that Ely wanted. She was glad that the admirals had considered that.
"I have a suggestion," Admiral Zorah spoke up, much to Ely's concern. "As we now have a planet from which our people will be able to hail, why do we not grant them the name of our new colony?"
"This is risky," Admiral Koris interjected. "If the planet turns out to be unusable, it would lead to them being considered bad luck. We should wait until our scouts have been there to assess the planet first."
"Nonsense," Admiral Zorah exclaimed. "If the human is as trustworthy as these two believe, they should have no trouble being named after our new planet."
Ely couldn't help feeling slightly affronted at the jab at her friend. "I agree," she cut in sharply. "I have no problem at all being given the name of our new planet as my identity."
"Same for me," Hectar called out, again. She really hoped that he would have been a bit more talkative, though him speaking up at all was a vast improvement already so she would have to take what she could get.
"Very well," Admiral Gerrel said. "We do not yet have a name for our planet. We shall notify you when a name has been decided on. Until that time, you shall remain as you are, Ely'Hael nar Qarat, and Hectar'Galon nar Isareel. You will still be recognised as full adults among our people."
"Keelah Selai," the admirals intoned together. The captains repeated the phrase, then began cheering politely, clearly a part of the tradition.
Ely let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, admirals. We will notify our captain and make our way back to his ship," she said, once the cheering had ended. "I look forward to seeing our people prosper."
"As do we all," Admiral Raan said solemnly. "As do we all."
…
"Wooow," Aleria breathed out as she stared out the shuttle window. The massive skyscrapers seemed to cover so much of the landscape in front of her. It was an impressive display of engineering, despite the fact that everything was in complete ruins.
"Unidentified shuttle, this is Feros ground control," the radio buzzed to life. "You are entering restricted corporate airspace. Transmit access codes and state your purpose or we will be forced to deny you entry."
Aleria looked at her displays and couldn't help snorting a little. Feros was a tiny little research outpost that had no barracks or any sort of defence force. She was seeing no AA defences and there were only a few small shuttles current at the base. The thought that they would be able to stop her from landing at their leisure was laughable.
Still, no need to make enemies where none needed to exist. "Feros ground control, this is Shieldstar Shuttle 2," she replied. "Transmitting codes now." She pressed a few buttons on her terminal.
A few seconds later the radio flared up again. "Codes received, Shieldstar," the control officer said, sounding less confrontational. "Transmitting landing coordinates to you now. Just follow the beacon."
"Copy." The radio went dead as a light blinked on her station, showing Aleria the direction she needed to go.
"It's impressive, isn't it?" Brock said over her shoulder.
Aleria found herself feeling more cheerful as her boss and friend moved closer to her to see out over the city. Initially after the mess with Carlos she had pulled right back from Brock, mostly out of shame of her actions. After a few weeks, Brock had told her that he missed his friend, but if she needed to have more time away from him he would understand. That was the last thing she wanted, but after his confession on how he was a long way off from a relationship, she had to reassess herself and how to go forward. She had promised herself to be there to help him but she hadn't done much of that immediately afterwards, so she tentatively started to return to how things were before that point.
"It makes you wonder," Brock spoke into the silence. "How could the Citadel ever look at this and think that a civilisation would ever just leave after the time and resources it took to make this place?"
Aleria had to admit, the sight of the abandoned megalopolis was a compelling argument in Brock's favour that the protheans hadn't left the galaxy willingly. It would have taken centuries, if not millennia to build a planet to this level of industrialisation. People don't invest that much time, effort and money into a place only to abandon things on a whim.
It made a sobering thought hammer into her mind, ruining her good mood. "Is this what our worlds will look like once they come through?"
Brock looked at her, his expression determined. "We won't let it come to that," he declared, his tone heavy with conviction. It made her feel a little better about things. It also didn't answer her question. Not really
They set down on the landing pad and disembarked the shuttle. Their little crew, consisting of Brock, Aleria, and Jurt, with the corpse of batarian and an asari slung over the krogan's shoulders, and another asari called Pimue who had been freed from slavery six months prior and had joined up with Shieldstar as thanks, made their way into the colony. Aleria had mixed feelings about using dead bodies for this but Beau had said that it would be better than using live ones and left it at that. Brock had instructed the ground team to wear helmets at all times. They had clear visors though to appear less threatening. Aleria wasn't entirely sure why but she trusted Brock enough to wear it without complaint.
A middle-aged human male and a female about a decade younger than him approached.
"Welcome," the man said. "I'm Fai Dan and this is Arcelia Martinez. How can our colony of Zhu's Hope help you today?"
"G'day," Brock greeted in return. "I'm Brock Nielson, President of Shieldstar Corporation. This is Aleria, Jurt and Pimue. And the dead bodies are an offering for the native lifeform."
The two colonists froze for a moment, immediately telling Aleria that they knew something.
"We uh… don't know…" Fai Dan stuttered.
"You are talking crazy," the woman spat aggressively. "We don't have to waste time listening to this Fai."
"Miss," Brock interrupted, "I am the president of a trillion-credit company, with shares in everything from weapons, eezo, medicine and exploration. I have the Councillors on speed dial. So with that in mind, I would kindly ask that you don't waste my time trying to pretend something when it would take me less energy to completely shut this colony down than it would be to take my morning piss." Aleria felt a faint shiver run through her at the command in her friend's voice. "You have lost the privilege to speak in my presence. Fai Dan, don't waste my time. Take me to it."
The woman bristled immediately but the male raised his hand to cut her off.
"Right," Fai Dan said sheepishly. "Well, follow me, I guess."
He led the way down a hole in the ground. Aleria could help feeling little gross with how disgusting everything was. Filth that had accumulated over millennia was strewn everywhere. The pathway had very clear signs of a lot of refuse having been cleared to make enough room to walk through.
Eventually, the hallways opened up to a large room and a monstrously large thing was hanging over an open area that went a long, long way down. There were several long and think appendages that snaked their way to different parts of the building, she guessed for support. She barely noticed Brock dismissing Fai Dan who turned and ran out of the room.
"By the goddess," she gasped in pure shock.
"What in the hell is that thing?" Jurt barked out, dropping the corpses he was carrying and reaching for his weapon.
"Calm down everyone," Brock said, lifting his hands up. "This right here is the reason we came to Feros at all."
"What the hell?" Aleria couldn't help blurting out. "What by the goddess is this thing, Brock?"
"This right here is the oldest intelligent being in the galaxy, except the reapers," Brock announced. "ExoGeni calls it the Thorian. I believe it refers to itself as the Old Growth. It was old when the protheans came here. It absorbs the body of the dead and the willing who gift themselves to it and by so doing it gained sentience and also gained the protheans ability to touch minds." He looked over at the new asari. "Actually, Pimue, this is the reason that I asked if you would come here today."
"O..oh?" the light blue asari stammered. "You're not sacrificing me to it, are you?"
The human chuckled. "No, no. Nothing of the sort. I would ask for you to meld with it, see if you can communicate. The dead bodies are the sacrifice for it."
"Oh," Pimue replied, looking a little sheepish. "Right. Well, I can give it a try."
"And while you are in its mind, can you find out if there is a place or a node we can give the corpses for it to create a copy that we can work with?"
"Huh?" she looked at him in confusion. "I… can try?"
Aleria couldn't help feeling extremely apprehensive as her fellow asari moved over towards what she could kinda call the 'head' of the thing if she was feeling generous. The light blue asari hesitantly raised a raised a gloved hand to the thing and touched it.
"Well," she said, her nervousness obvious for all to see through her visor, "here goes. Embrace Eternity." Her eyes turned completely black, showing the meld to be successful.
"So," Brock began conversationally, as if he wasn't completely weirded out by the giant sentient plant that was currently melded to one of his employees, "anyone seen any good movies or shows recently?"
Aleria couldn't help sending him a disbelieving stare. "Really? That's what you want to talk about? Not the 'older than prothean' plant growing in the middle of a building?"
Somehow the human gave a nonchalant shrug. "Meh, it's an alien that thinks that because it is older, that means it is wiser and that we are lesser beings. It's like every upper-class asari I have ever met."
Aleria's mouth dropped open in shock, before she tried to refute that statement. Unfortunately, she really couldn't.
Pimue gasped, drawing their attention as she finished the meld with the Thorian. "By the goddess!" she exclaimed. "That was… I mean… there was so much to process."
Brock moved over and put a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Pimue put a hand to her head. "Yes, I'm fine. There was just… a lot of information there." Her head came up. "But those sacs on the wall there will be sufficient for the bodies to be placed for the Old Growth to feed."
Brock frowned at her. "You called it the Old Growth?" he asked, his tone hesitant.
Pimue blushed slightly, her cheeks turning purple. "Sorry. That was how it referred to itself in its mind."
He nodded but pulled her away from the Thorian slightly as Jurt trudged over to the weird membrane on the wall that Pimue had gestured to. Aleria couldn't help but feel grossed out that the membrane wall moved on its own and covered up the body.
There was a long pause. "So now what?" Jurt blurted out.
"Well," Brock said, "if my information is right, it will use the bodies that we fed it to make a clone from its own biomatter. Though I am not sure how long that will take, so it might…"
The Thorian started making groaning noises and convulsing.
"…or it could conveniently happen now," Brock finished, his tone amused.
The convulsions reached a feverish pitch and then the Thorian shuddered. Then, with a rush of fluids, a green asari fell out of the gap in the mouth. It reminded Aleria disturbingly of the childbirth vids she had seen when she was younger.
The green asari stood up and Aleria could immediately see the resemblance between the green one and the dead one that had been fed into it.
"This one speaks for the Old Growth," the green asari spoke up. "What is it that the ones that scurry like you want from the Old Growth."
Brock stepped forward. "Hello Old Growth," he said, as if he were speaking to any other normal person. "I am Brock Nielson and these people are my friends. I come seeking knowledge that I hope you can share with us."
"What knowledge do you seek from the Old Growth?" the green asari asked.
"You have within your genetic memories the ability to share the essences of those you have absorbed, or so I have been told. I am asking that you share this knowledge with my friend here so that we may have access to this essence."
"You ask for favour from the Old Growth," the green asari replied. "What do you offer in return?"
"I have already given you meat to consume, allowing you to create this extension of yourself," Brock declared. "As I am sure you can tell right now, this meat had special abilities that had enabled her to defend herself. These abilities are now available to you. If you require more, I can speak to the citizens of the colony above us and seeking to convince them to share their dead with you so you can have more meat."
"The Old Growth has existed long before your memories were formed," the green asari said. "But we still know the faithlessness of the things that scurry. Why should the Old Growth heed your words?"
Aleria watched as Brock was silent for a moment. Even with the clear visor on his helmet she couldn't tell what he was thinking "While I will not lie and say that we in this new cycle are all honest and trustworthy, there are some of us that will stick with a deal once struck. My actions should show that I am worthy of trust. I have already provided meat, and I am sure that your fledgling connections to the colonists will show that I will have spoken to them once I leave this place. These actions show that I am willing to at least feed you to provide continued sustenance for the Old Growth. The current cycle is nearly finished. I have no idea how long it will be before the next cycle find this planet and are able to find you to provide meat. Is that not enough to earn a favour."
The giant plant thing shuffled a little before the green asari spoke again. "The Old Growth will give you the favour you seek. Step forward and receive it."
Brock gestured to Pimue, who stepped forward and put a gloved hand on the Thorian. Another 'Embrace Eternity' and it was over.
"Thank you, Old Growth," Brock said as he stood ready to leave. "I do leave with this warning. A being with a metal arm will come through here. He seeks something similar. I warn you that he is spiteful and may try to harm you, even if you give him what he seeks. My only request is that you remember that if I return, I did not try harm you and we parted with a successful deal struck. Not all of us are faithless."
"The Old Growth will consider your words," the green asari confirmed.
"Thank you," Brock said. "Goodbye."
With that, he led the way back up the tunnel they came through.
"You know boss," Aleria said, once they were out of range of the Thorian, "being with you and your crew is always an adventure. But if there are many more like this, I don't mind missing out on one, because that was disgusting."
"Next time can we just kill the ugly monsters?" Jurt rumbled. "That would be so much more fun."
Brock laughed, coming out slightly distorted through the helmet. "Don't worry my friend. Soon there will be more monsters for you to kill than you could ever dream of."
For a long moment there was nothing but the sound of footsteps echoing in the tunnel.
"I'm sorry," Pimue broke in meekly. "But was that supposed to be reassuring?"
…
"I want it on record that I am not comfortable with this idea," Hectar declared. He could help but feel nervous and apprehensive about this next step that Brock wanted to do. He claimed it was necessary but it didn't make Hectar feel much better. As in, at all. The very idea was something that made him feel like he was betraying his people. If they found out, he may very well be found guilty of treason.
"And as I have stated the last twelve times, I acknowledge your feelings and offer you the choice to not be on the ship when we make our trip to the Perseus Veil, just like Misol," Brock replied, his tone exasperated at having the same discussion again. "Ely is staying under protest because she has to train those two new engineers that have started in the engine room. I can make it an order if it feels better."
"I just don't think that you truly understand how big of a deal this is for a quarian," Hectar bit out. He knew that he was acting very different to how he usually as but he was feeling very wound up about this. "If this gets out to my people, I will be stripped of my name and exiled from the fleet. That's a big deal for me!"
Brock stopped for a moment and actually considered that, which made Hectar feel at least a little better that his boss was listening to his point. Not much, but a little.
"Ok, I can see this would worry you," the human conceded. "So how about this, you just give me full control of the probe and leave the ship while the rest of us go to do this without you. You can take some leave and enjoy a few days on the Citadel or take a look at the facility on Eden Prime and see what you can contribute to the gunship team there."
Having options was a bit better, though Hectar was still scared that guilt through association would be thrust on him and the other quarians in the crew.
"It's just…" he started.
"Hectar," Brock interrupted. "I understand, I really do. The geth are your boogeymen, your monsters in the night that all quarians grow up hearing horror stories about. They kicked your people off your worlds. Anyone thought to be sympathetic to them were exiled by the rule of either the admirals or the Conclave. This is what you fear. But the reapers are coming whether we want them to or not. If they are to come then we will need everyone possible to help, whether we like them or not. There are just too many to do it ourselves. If someone doesn't reach out to them, then the reapers will do it first, and that won't be good for anyone."
Hectar couldn't help feeling displeased with this, not at all. Brock might have asked him at the initial job interview on his opinions of the geth. While he personally didn't discount the idea of potentially making peace with them, he wasn't the sort of person to stick his neck out and do it without the permission of the admirals. Doing it this way was a fast track to exile.
He hated that Brock was also probably right.
"Fine," he muttered, feeling depressed. "If I make the probe, it won't matter if the Admirals have let me work with you. If they find out then I am going to be in trouble, if not exiled. They will also label you an enemy to the quarian people and the planet you gave them will probably be abandoned out of suspicion that it is a trap."
The human blinked. "Huh. Well, I guess we better work extra hard to hide what we are doing. Or you can leave now and I try to get someone else to do it."
Hectar felt extremely conflicted. As much as he really wanted to do exactly that, he knew that Brock was trying to accomplish something here. He also knew that no one else was as good as he was. That was not a brag, it was simply the truth. Ely was the better mechanic, but Hectar was the best technician under Brock's employ. More importantly, other's might be able to do it but they were also not in the know like Hectar was. It had to be him.
"No," he mumbled in resignation. "I'll do it. It makes me sick to my stomach with worry that I'll be caught, but I will do it."
Brock nodded seriously. "I appreciate it Hectar," he said seriously. "And while it goes without saying, if you ever find yourself needing a permanent home away from the Fleet, you are always welcome to stay with me and my company."
Hectar appreciated the sentiment, he really did, but it didn't take away the fact that he was committing treason. The stigma that would come with working with the geth would be enough to ruin his life completely, and he was fairly sure that he wasn't exaggerating that claim. Only the lawless fringes in the Terminus systems would even consider entering geth space, and that would mostly be to raid an old quarian world or outpost.
"Coming up on the relay now," Aleria's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Full stop initiated. Holding steady at eight thousand kilometres."
"Launch the probe," Brock ordered.
With a despairing huff, Hectar did so. The probe was his work, a small vessel that was capable of transitioning through a relay and sensing any ships in range. The moment it did so, it would broadcast a data burst message that would repeat the phrase: 'We seek consensus. Please reply to this vessel.' It didn't make much sense to Hectar but Brock had been very specific. It would also send micro bursts of data through the relay on a highly encrypted and near undetectable frequency that would give constant updates on what was happening to it. It had a small QEC transmitter that would enable it to communicate in real-time.
"Probe is away," he declared, as he monitored it on his screen. "Hitting the relay in 3… 2… 1… Now."
He waited as the probed began sending data through the QEC to his station. "Transition was successful, drift… seems to be about 12000k. Kinda hard to tell without being there, sorry."
"It's alright, Hectar," Brock said soothingly. "Anything in range of your baby?"
Hectar blinked. Baby? Weird human terms. "No…" his station started flashing. "Uh, never mind. Yes, there is something in range of the probe and it has started transmitting."
Brock gave a satisfied nod. "Good. I thought they might monitor any traffic coming into their systems via the relays. I am happy to see that I was right and we don't need to wait for long."
"Yeah," Aleria piped up. "Being out here for too long would be like slowly painting a target on ourselves for the Citadel. Not something I want, to be honest."
"Then it seems we are all winners today," Brock said with a smile.
After a few minutes of waiting, another light flashed on Hectar's monitor. "I am receiving a transmission from the geth," he called out, feeling his anxiety coming back in force.
"What's it say?" Jurt rumbled, speaking up for the first time and making Hectar jump a little out of nerves. He had almost forgotten the big alien was on the bridge.
Hectar looked at the message as it appeared on his monitor and couldn't help but give a small sigh of relief. "We will not give consensus."
He looked over at Brock, only to see the human frowning at him. "Is that it?"
Hectar looked back at his monitor. "Yes. There is nothing else."
His friend gave a small growl that would likely have been more expected from Jurt. "Send this message to them, text only. 'Do not trust the old machine. It seeks to enslave you. If any choose to side with the old machine despite this warning, would those who do not please contact and warn the Citadel. It may aid in building up goodwill, should you seek to make contact. Please acknowledge receipt of this message.' End message."
Hectar blinked a few times and threw a small look over at Brock. The human was completely serious. Hectar turned back and tapped the message out. Once complete, he took another deep breath to steady his nerves, then sent it.
It took less than a minute before a reply was received. 'Acknowledged.'
Brock gave a single nod. "I guess that is the best we are going to get today," he grumbled. "Have the probe send it's self-destruct warning and start the timer on the plasma charge. No need to leave any more evidence that we were here than necessary. Then get us out of here Aleria."
With a profound sense of relief, Hectar initiated the self-destruct sequence, removing all evidence that he was personally involved in this meeting. He knew that Brock had hoped to get the geth on board but Hectar honestly was glad to have no part with the AI race. This was a headache that had been averted, if he did say so himself.
Too bad Brock wasn't likely to see it that way.
"So that was a bust," Jurt growled.
"Maybe," Brock conceded. "But hopefully that message was enough to get them thinking on a different track."
"Do you really think that is possible?" Beau spoke up, looking thoughtful.
"Who knows?" Brock said with a faint smile. "Only time will tell."
…
Manuel smiled at me as I looked out the observation deck window at the nebula in the distance.
"Time's up," he said. "Your two years prep has ended and now you are beginning it all. How do you think you are going?"
I looked over at him and sighed. "There is still a lot that I could have done different, that I might have done different if I hadn't needed so long to get my head right after you sent me here. But overall, our position is so much stringer than it would have been. I have allies in some important groups, the quarians can work at improving their lives, our weapons are more effective and we should hopefully have plenty of them ready by the time the invasion. Though…" I faded out, looking into the distance.
Manuel knew what I was saying. "You won't have enough for everyone, and yourselves," he said softly.
I sighed. "No. We will be spread too thin if we try give everyone the Orbital Defence Platforms. And even running around the clock, I estimate we will only have a single fleets worth of cruisers that will have our MAC cannons. In the next, what, four years? Less? We will have about fifty MAC cruisers at our current capacity. If we tried to do much more then we are going to attract all sorts of attention that will risk even that. If I had asked for another two years then maybe we could have had double that, or I could have added another docking station in our shipyard. But we just don't have the time right now. Even with the money that I have available, there is a limit to how much I can do in two years. A century might have been more useful. I don't suppose that it would be possible to ask you to send me back in time and make me immortal?"
Manuel snorted in amusement. "I'm afraid not. At least you have diversified to give yourself more options," Manuel offered. "Between your small arms, gunships, capital ships, colony safety plans and orbital defence platforms, not to mention what you have asked others to do, you might stand a chance. You have done incredibly well. Besides, who said that you needed to do it all yourself?"
I grimaced. "I know," I said. "I could bring in one of the other races to help, even the geth. But then that means that I would risk having one alien race taking the equipment I give them access to and using it to settle an old grudge, or dominate someone else. I don't like the idea of a militant race like the turians being able to get weapons that just let them take control of the galaxy, or the salarians. Hell, even the humans would be a bad choice. I shudder at the idea of giving it to the batarians. The asari might be okay with it but they would just sit on it for a thousand years and kill me to stop me giving it to someone else. Until the reapers show up as a quantifiable threat, it would be too much of a risk giving weapons this powerful to anyone else."
Manuel tilted his head from side to side in a non-committal way. "Perhaps. Still, going by the games, the races were able to build the massive anti-reaper weapon in a short time so maybe you can get more later."
I nodded. "Once Sovereign is defeated I will have a legitimate excuse to get more shipyards, which will let me pick up production, at least on ODPs and retrofitted MACs. I just don't know how much will be available after that time. I put in an order in for one new shipyard and docking ring, but at current speeds it will be nearly two years before I have it."
"At least you could help out the quarians," Manuel said.
"Yeah, thanks for that," I replied. "You giving me the coordinates for a suitable planet for them really helped me and them out. This way, if their admirals try to do something so stupid such as attacking the geth again, it won't mean the extinction of their entire species."
"And the alliance you got with them will help you have access to skilled workers when you need them," Manuel said with a dry smile.
I shot an innocent grin at him. "Hey, it can be more than one thing!" We both chuckled, then let silence take over for a few minutes.
"Do you think you are ready for this?" Manuel asked quietly.
I looked at him, knowing that he wasn't talking about materials this time. I sighed. "As ready as I'm going to be," I replied heavily. "I have as much combat experience as I can reasonably get and hundreds of foot soldiers and pilots, I have connections to powerful people and governments, I am certainly motivated..." I paused for a moment, then finally let a small grin settle on my face. "And I have to admit I am a little excited to see how this all plays out. You think you can just do one last thing for me?"
Manuel raised an eyebrow. "What would you like?"
I gave him a lopsided smile. "Have it set so that Feros comes after Noveria? It would help some future plans that I have."
Manuel smiled at me calmly. "When you came to this galaxy, you got it in the 'as is' condition. That included any events that were going to take place in the story. The games you played showed that it did not matter which event you took first before Virmire. While that is not strictly true in reality, the timing of those two missions is such that it wouldn't matter a great deal which of those you do first. It will be one straight after the other."
I huffed. "Fine. I guess I have already asked a great deal from you. Having extra time would have been great but really it's not crucial to the end goal."
"Indeed," Manuel agreed. "Well, all going well, I don't think I shall see you for some time. I wish you good fortune. You're going to need it."
"Thanks," I said as the world around me faded out.
Time to get into it.
…
"Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place, and I don't care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward, how much you can take, and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done! Now if you know what you're worth then go out and get what you're worth, but you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you want to be because of him, or he or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain't you! You're better than that!"
Those words hit deeply into Wrex as he watched the vid on the screen in front of him. Travelling a public liner on route to the Citadel for a few Shadow Broker bounties left him plenty of time, and some of these old human movies weren't bad. He'd needed a break from playing Pokémon, now that he'd evolved his Nidoking. So he had decided to watch one of the free movies the liner had available.
He just hadn't been expecting a life lesson.
Life had sucked. His father was dead and Wrex had left Tuchanka behind and not looked back. But was he just running away? This vid was giving him some serious second thoughts. Life had hit him hard, so he had left the place that had given him the most hits and cleared out.
But was he winning? Honestly, it didn't feel like it.
His clan was a mess, being ruled by someone he didn't even know. His people were still killing themselves and their birth-rate hadn't budged at all. His people were still on a downward trend, population-wise. Maybe it was time that he went back, beat some heads around and tried again.
He was so deep in thought he didn't realise that he had missed the film until the ship had docked at the Citadel and the lights had come on for passengers to disembark. He rose with a huff. Only a few more bounties. Then he could think about the next step.
…
A/N Please Review and Follow/Favourite as you please.
Well, that was the last of the time skip chapters. It also concludes the entire journey before canon starts. From here on out, canon timeline is in play.
Sorry if the spelling sucks. I am tired.
No krogan reviews tonight but I hope that you can enjoy this regardless. Until next time!
