Disclaimer: I do not own Sonic the Hedgehog or Mass Effect.
At last, the very first ME-focused chapter. It was supposed to be chapter 3, but then chapters 2, 3 and 4 got way away from me, so here it is. Chapter 5. I hope you enjoy!
EDIT: I found out that one of the characters is a wheelchair (well, hoverchair) user so I made some minor edits to accomodate for that.
Chapter 5: The simplest solution.
One good thing about authority. It could buy time. Plenty of it. Travel time in this particular case.
It had been a little over a month since the STG tech team assigned to Operation MIRAGE had arrived on Enirle to begin gathering data from Anhur, and fourteen days since Captain Kelir Rogs had arrived on an independent civilian ship to be part of the operation. A civilian ship because discretion was tantamount in any kind of surveillance and investigation job. This was why he had never even set foot in the SUV Letos, and why the crew had not been informed of their location. The trip to arrive to Enirle had taken many days, having to go through all the traffic and hoops that any other civilian passenger did, normal civilians being a significantly lower priority than trade and military vessels; especially on Enirle, which had little more than trade to its name.
Discretion was not as much of a high priority right now.
The vessel he was currently on was the same ship that the tech team had arrived in back in the beginning of Operation MIRAGE; a lightly armed but heavily armored frigate called SUV Apitwa. Thanks to the STG priority codes allowing them to skip cues and traffic – as much as they could be skipped in the bottlenecks that Mass Relays were at any rate – the passenger ship managed to reach the Citadel in record time.
Said record time was a two or three days, which was too long. It was easily long enough for someone to stew on foolish decisions, convince themselves that those decisions were good ones and talk themselves into increasingly convoluted circles of reasoning.
Mind you, Captain Kelir did not have any factual evidence that the STG had concluded to a less than "desirable" solution regarding Operation MIRAGE. But getting the Council involved… STG did not do that. Not unless things were truly dire. To request backup in conflicts regarding other Council-related assets.
His brain was hurting… He managed to sleep for around six, or maybe even seven hours on the way to the Citadel, finally getting too exhausted for the anxiety to overcome it. Not that seven hours of sleep was enough to overcome days of no sleep at all and weeks of very little to no sleep beforehand. Even now breathing felt tiring, and his movements tight.
When he really crashed, it would be bad.
The ship's VI announced their imminent arrival. Captain Kelir moved to the window.
For all that there was no weather in space, this place truly seemed like a cloudy sky in the middle of the night, just waiting for the storm. The dust and debris gathered over millennia if not millions of years formed thick, obscuring clouds around them with sickly purple and blue hues, brushing through the glass seemingly harmless even though some vessels had been torn apart once upon a time, in a more primitive and innocent era while travelling through them. The faintest of shapes could be made through the clouds, almost non-existent if you were not looking for it, like the faintest light of the sun making through the thick rainclouds, something vague in the shape of a circle, and large.
They flew through the cloud, and the light revealed its true form in a flash.
Nested between the clouds, almost swallowed by them, bright like a tiny star on the inside, with countless black shapes floating in serenity before the light or buzzing around like insects…
Spinning slowly as it did, the heavy dark metal plates of the exterior, the lights on the inside so dim from here, a city in the nighttime, nothing like the homeworlds, nothing like Anhur that had so much light…
The arms looked like claws, and for a moment he saw the Towers.
Captain Kelir shook his head. The anxiety was getting to him. The Citadel did NOT look like Anhur, for fuck's sake.
He had to get his brain under control again, he could not afford to say anything stupid in front of the STG higher ups because of sleep deprivation of all things.
The closer they got to the Citadel, the more he could make out the basic outlines of the city blocks covering the interior, but soon that view was cut by the monstrosity before them.
The Destiny Ascension was objectively a beautiful ship. Objectively, for with those all too smooth curves and the cross-like shape… Did it really have to look like abstract art of a billion-years-old underwater predator? The light that shone through its gaping maw of a core…
Next to that thing this ship was little more than a bug.
Though what else could you expect from the flagship of the Asari Republics. The Destiny Ascension was a statement, above all else, of elegance and power. It was meant to be an abstract work of art.
The pilot connected to space control and requested permission to dock, rattling off the priority porting code. They flew beneath the wing of Destiny Ascension, and even though he knew this was logistically impossible he swore he could feel the Mass Effect core pulling at his heart.
Next to him some other operatives were stuck gossiping about the ship on the windows, the gloomy mood that ruled the crew temporarily lifted. A couple who just entered the room saluted him out of protocol before joining the others.
As the Apitwa docked, Captain Kelir borrowed the PA system.
"This is Captain Kelir Rogs. Specialist Ovos, you are to disembark and accompany me to the Presidium. Prepare the Operation-related documents. We are to report to the STG Office as soon as possible. The rest will remain here and await further orders. That is all."
The light mood the others had from seeing the Destiny Ascension up close instantly vanished. Captain Kelir shared the sentiment; they could all use a shore leave. However, this was a luxury they could only potentially afford after the meeting.
Captain Kelir headed to the disembarking chamber, and a few seconds later specialist Ovos came along. There was no specific need to select him among the other specialists, but he could not walk with the entire team in the Presidium. They just needed to present the team's findings, and the STG office already had all the data. Being called here was more of a formality, really…
The ominous feeling in his stomach grew even worse.
This would be bad.
Very bad.
The airlock opened and Captain Kelir Rogs stepped out.
There were more kinds of time that authority could buy you than just travel time. In this particular case, it was the sky itself.
The weather was always perfect in the Presidium. Sunny but not glaring, fluffy white clouds decorating the sky, a cool and pleasant breeze creating ripples in the lake, adding to those created by the fountains, distorting the reflection of the Krogan Memorial and the Relay Monument on the sliver water. When it was dark the sky was still bright, just bright enough to seem like a nightlight, a pleasant evening before it was too late to keep walking, a dimness meant to soothe tired eyes. It was purely decoration, literally a high glowing ceiling to make the arm of the citadel look like a planet-bound city, create an illusion that you were not in a space station in the middle of a nebula full of ominous purple dust and that there were not skyscrapers upside down over your head. If you did not pay attention to it, it was quite effective, convincing enough.
But if you were paying attention to it then it made your skin crawl.
Yes, it was always sunny in the Presidium, and the sky was bright and blue. The scant few hours of "darkness" that was meant to imitate a semblance of a day cycle could hardly be called dark, more like a dimness that still made it easy to see. Everything was perfectly clean thanks to the tireless efforts of the Keepers who droned along the corners unperturbed. The benches were comfortable and the trees planted in the corners were healthy and well-taken care of.
Silvery-white bridges arched over the lake, connecting the sparkling buildings, as office workers, shoppers – many of them tourists, those who had a false sense of luxury and a few extra credits in their wallets, wanting to be seen here for the status above all. Others actually lived here, in high-rise apartments of those who had entire walls made of glass to open the view in a way that only absolute privacy could afford; a privacy only the rich could afford. That was why the glass was tinted after all.
The occasional C-Sec officer patrolled the area, eyeing and scanning everyone, especially the two Krogan next to the Memorial arguing over whether or not the artificial lake had fish in it. It was a stupid argument, not even a fight; one of the Krogan just sounded exasperated more than anything, the other was not angry in any way and merely curious; nothing that would escalate to a fight.
The Asari officer in the corner kept a gun on her hand anyway.
Even though there was no threat. Just a stupid argument the likes of which everyone had participated in a million times over while growing up.
Everything was for show in the Presidium. Immaculate. Perfect. It had to look like the absolute symbol of unity and harmony, orderly and quiet, just alive enough to show a façade of welcoming, yet very few people were welcomed within its walls.
The shops were only here to draw the tourist crowd that would immediately post to the social media about their visit and then never come back, the people who thought that coming here made them special, the tired office workers working a schedule that may or may not have been meant for their biology, and those few who actually belonged here and hardly ever looked at a price tag because if you asked for a price then you definitely could not afford to pay.
One of the cafes had no customers whatsoever, neat and tidy chairs in balconies blatantly empty, as if telling those who passed them that sitting here was wrong. A set of chairs and a table had no right looking so uninviting.
But this was natural for a place like this.
The Presidium was where all the embassies were, after all. Where the Council was. The diplomacy, the politicking, the backstabbing. Every single decision that changed the galaxy took place here. It was politics and pleasure specifically catered to politics, becoming unreachable to the common folk via reputation and price tags.
That was why Captain Kelir could not bring himself to enjoy the sights.
Behind him Specialist Ovos did not say a word. He was openly staring at everything around them with a look of raw admiration, clearly showing how he had never been in the Presidium before. Truthfully Captain Kelir had not been in the Presidium many times before either, and it was always for business, but they were enough times to reduce the initial impact of the glamour around him. And he was frankly too tired and frustrated for it. Operation MIRAGE had taken its toll on him already. He supposed it was normal to be cynical.
Oh well. Part of the job.
He ignored the carefully cultivated sights and marched straight to the embassies. The main Salarian Embassy was supposed to be on the Citadel Tower, but there was a secondary embassy for other, more minor subjects along with the others; subjects such as trade deals, traffic routes, general immigration. The "help the public directly" kind of embassy. That was where they were headed.
You would think that the STG would hide its offices either in plain sight or in some top secret underground bunker that required five different scans to get in, with nothing in-between. And that was true in some specific cases, certain locations the details of which Captain Kelir was not privy to, but most people forgot that the STG was not only a spy group, but their species actual military force. Not all their offices could be bastions of suspicion.
No, the STG office in the Citadel was located in the upper floors of the Salarian Embassy, and anyone who cared to ask knew that info. It had a secondary reception desk and chairs to sit down as you wait and everything, complete with stains made by someone's take-out drink that were made years ago and nobody managed to completely remove.
As Captain Kelir made his way to that secondary reception, after passing the security scans in the embassy's entrance, it was well… Underwhelming. Like always.
He half-expected a disaster to reflect the strange omen in his stomach foretelling imminent destruction. But no, the reception looked the same as ever. He gave their names and credentials and the receptionist – someone Captain Kelir had not seen before but appeared to have been working there for quite some time now if the general "office work" apathy was any indication – told them the number of the room they were supposed to go in.
Of course they were waiting for him already, their arrival was not a secret.
Captain Kelir nodded his thanks and headed to the pointed direction, with the specialist mumbling a quick thanks before following him.
He knocked on the door and it unlocked. He walked in.
He stopped right in his tracks.
There was a stranger in the robes of a politician standing right in the middle of an STG office, even though they clearly were not an STG officer. They looked vaguely familiar, but…
Protocol.
"Captain Kelir Rogs, and Specialist Ovos Jirae, reporting."
The person scrutinized them both, and Captain Kelir felt his stomach whimper.
"I see. I am Dalatrass Esheel. Well met, Captain."
Shit.
He recognized her now. He heard of her; as far as he knew she was one of the favoured candidates for the Council Seat right before Councilor Valern with some clever STG backing snatched the spot. He had seen her on TV a few times giving statements, and there was only one word he could use to describe her.
Ruthless.
All supposed civility between politicians evaporated when she talked. She always asked for more; heavier taxes, heavier punishments, stricter laws, wanted STG involvement in regular law enforcement, heavier militarization, and that was just the leaves on the swamp in regards to what he heard about her.
She should hate STG, considering she lost the Council seat to a former operative. So what was she doing here?
Oh yes, she definitely picked up his unease. Salarian physiology did not allow for lying. The Salarians had a universal body language that made it impossible to lie to their own kind. Not for the first time he wondered if that was where the species-wide obsession with secrecy came from.
Yet the Elcor could not lie either, and they valued honesty greatly, so perhaps he was wrong.
But yes, she picked up on his unease and made no attempt to hide the pleasure she derived from it.
"I believe you are in charge of Operation MIRAGE?"
Technically not in charge but "I oversee the on-field operations, yes." In reality he had no idea what was going on among the higher-ups, and the Dalatrass' presence proved it.
"And what did your investigation reveal?"
She knew something he did not. He was sure of it. "Everything is in the reports, Dalatrass Esheer. We have been on standby since."
He might as well have said "I'm completely ignorant here", but there was also the off-chance she had not read them. He was not keen to share information with her when she did not even know why in the world she was here. Seriously, how did she even know of Operation MIRAGE in the first place?
"I see" she said. "Let me inform you of the newest developments then, so you are not completely ignorant."
The specialist barely – badly – disguised his spluttering, and it was through pure military professionalism that Captain Kelir did not change expressions. She really had to call them ignorant to their faces. Good to know his bad premonitions were as accurate as ever.
"Your reports caused quite the stir among the STG, obviously. No fault on your own for this, considering the unforeseen circumstances. Naturally, Councilor Valern was informed, but he is horrendous at dealing with unforeseen circumstances. The moment he realized he could not just send a Spectre there to resolve the situation he crumbled. So Councilor Tevos was kind enough to reach out to me and inquire for my input. I am very glad to be of assistance."
Of course she was.
"I assume that you are here to inform us of the Council's decision then, Dalatrass?"
"Oh, no I'm afraid. Not right now. I shall accompany you to the Council Chambers. After all, there are… other parties that need to be informed."
Undoubtedly. It was an operation within Batarian space after all. Which meant that a Batarian representative would be there. So much for not getting involved in politics. At least he hoped he did not have to do any negotiations or anything. Leave the politics to politicians and just let him do his mission and find some answers. Please.
"Shall we go then, Captain?"
He recomposed himself. "Of course, Dalatrass."
He motioned for her to go first and followed behind her, with Specialist Ovos falling in step behind him. This time on their way out they ignored the receptionist.
While Captain Kelir had been to the Presidium before, he had never been to the Citadel Tower before.
It was… beyond massive. A true beacon of Prothean Architecture, the Citadel Tower was easily visible even from out of the Citadel. Its foundation was in the Presidium, right at the base of the arm, and yet it stretched so unfathomably tall, its top at the very center of the Presidium Ring, the hollow circle that connected the Citadel's wings.
A tower that was over six kilometers tall. Taller than mountains.
By comparison the elevator ride in it was incredibly boring.
There was music playing in the elevator. Nothing odd there. And he knew the elevator was incredibly fast, fast enough that it had to use Mass Effect fields to damper the inertia forces.
But… the tower was so tall…
He surpassed the urge to fidget. Or open his mouth and saying something. Specialist Ovos was doing a better job at it because he was trying not to cower in the corner. Not that he could blame him, Captain Kelir really did pick him at random and the poor specialist probably did not expect to encounter a Dalatrass and the Council when he woke up today.
Surprisingly, Dalatrass Esheel did not say anything. He was expecting her to start with the "I am so disappointed in X" kind of inane discussion but instead of phrasing it out loud she just stood there oozing smugness. Of course she was, Councilor Tevos practically ran to her while Councilor Valern was floundering. She probably felt like a young child on a shopping trip whose siblings told her "choose anything you want" with no budget limitations.
Wait, she said they could not send a Spectre to solve the problem… Then what did the Council decide? The STG? Why was she so… pleased?
He opened his mouth for half a second and then closed it again before she could see it. Asking now would not get him any answers, he could wait a few minutes.
Was the elevator music looping? Why was it looping. Could they not get a VI to randomly generate it? Or tune it to a radio station? No, they probably could not endorse any particular radio stations. Still, was it looping? Was it his imagination? He could swear he heard those particular bits when he walked in here…
No, he could not afford to go mad over elevator music of all things.
Shit, no wonder everyone loathed this elevator. It was a test to the patience. No wonder the Councilors had their personal offices and apartments at around the same height as the Council Chambers. If he had to do this elevator trip on a daily basis he would have to be admitted to a clinic somewhere.
With a ping the elevator slowed down and the doors opened.
The feeling of dread dropped back into his stomach like a rock.
This place was gorgeous. If the artificial gardens in the Presidium were meant to impress, they held nothing on the tiny forest-like area that was the prelude to the Council's Chambers. It looked like a private oasis of glass and vegetation, with flowing water as if someone had taken a tiny portion of a forest and carved the rocks into monoliths.
It did not help his anxiety at all.
They arrived at a small staircase, and Dalatress Esheel charged right ahead. Captain Kelir and Specialist Ovos followed.
Here they were. The Councilors.
Sparatus, Tevos, and Valern. The three pillars of galactic society, standing still on their podiums.
"Welcome, Dalatrass Esheel" greeted Councilor Valern with no small amount of displeasure. Tevos and Sparatus echoed the greeting.
Footsteps echoed behind them and a new figure approached.
"My deepest apologies for the delay, kind Councilors. This was quite the short notice."
"Ambassador Jath'Amon" greeted Tevos. "You are on time."
Captain Kelir had never seen the Batarian ambassador before. His first impression was that the man was, well… fat. He had seen plenty of batarians in his missions, but most of them had been mercenaries and this reasonably fit. This batarian was so fat that his hands looked tiny and he was using a hover chair. He was also quite old; his facial fur was long and white, contrasting quite a bit with his skin. He did not even know batarian fur could change colour. He had never seen a batarian whose fur was not the same shade as his skin.
"Thank you very much, Councilors."
That was when he noticed the additional Salarians in the room. He immediately became more cautious.
"May I ask why there are STG units present?"
He doesn't know!?
Everyone looked expectantly to him. Shit.
He stepped forward.
"Greetings Councilors and honoured ambassadors. My name is Kelir Rogs, STG Captain. This is Specialist Ovos Jirae."
"Well met, Captain Kelir."
Tevos turned to address the room at large.
"We have gathered here today to discuss the… disappearance of Planet Anhur and the ongoing investigation regarding it."
"Wha- Excuse me!?" exclaimed the Batarian.
"Were you not aware of the circumstances of planet Anhur, Ambassador Jath'Amon?"
"Councilors, surely this must be-"
Captain Kelir could not hold it back anymore. "Were you seriously not told what this meeting is about, Ambassador?"
All eyes turned on him.
He fucked up.
Jath'Amon's eyes… it was hard to keep track of all of them, and Captain Kelir regretted right there and then not looking deeper into Batarian body language. The Batarians had many gestures that were highly specific; it was not a natural trait of their species but rather a cultural one that they adhered to it strictly. However, that also meant that they could lie with it…
"No. I was not informed of the subject of the meeting beforehand. Only that this is an emergency. Would you please care to enlighten us, Captain Kelir Rogs?"
"Yes." He turned to Specialist Ovos, who took a moment to realise he was supposed to bring up the relevant files. As the Specialist started digging through his omnitool, Captain Kelir turned to the room at large.
Time to sell out my entire army, I suppose.
"Thirty five days ago, the Special Task Group observed a number of irregularities in pre-existing Hegemony and Terminus Systems traded routes that indicated a sudden cut-off of supplies from certain sources. This coincided with significant unrest in the Private Security Group known as Eclipse, as well as a notable lack of Hegemony reports regarding colony status – more so than usual."
Behind him, Specialist Ovos had finished preparing the files.
"An STG analyst team was sent to investigate the source of the irregularities, seeking to prevent possible pirate or terrorist activity, as is usual in the region. We were able to trace the source of the disturbances to Anhur, as all communications with the planet had been cut. However, when a survey team was sent to investigate Anhur…"
He took a deep breath.
"The planet had turned invisible" said Tevos.
"Yes, Councilor."
Silence reigned in the Council Chambers.
The amicable air the Batarian Ambassador had when he entered them had completely disappeared, replaced by cold calculation.
"Yes, I was aware of the circumstances behind Anhur. And since you were surveying our colony, you should be aware that we had our own ongoing investigation on the subject. The Hegemony does not wish to bother the Council with internal issues."
"Those internal issues" said Dalatrass Esheel "could very easily become external issues. We all know Batarians don't have the technology to turn their own planet invisible and certainly not the motive, so there is no reason to assume this issue will not spread to the rest of the galaxy."
Jath'Amon clearly wanted to argue against the STG spying on their colonies. "You make a valid argument, Dalatrass Esheel. However, I strongly object to ongoing STG surveillance to areas outside their jurisdiction."
"Ambassador" said Councilor Sparatus, speaking up for the first time "as a Citadel race you should be aware that we take the security and peacekeeping efforts in this galaxy very seriously."
The tension filled the room.
This was already going horribly and they had not even addressed the actual issue yet.
I really did not want to mess with politics. "We sent a surveillance team inside Anhur."
Everyone's attention turned back to him.
"…Please explain" said Jath'Amon.
"…Once the STG surveillance team realized that the planet was indeed invisible, I was assigned to oversee them and form a specialized team to gather more data. The mission was codenamed Operation MIRAGE. My assignment was to form a strategy to resolve the situation on Anhur based on the intel gathered by the surveillance team. I was brought in fourteen days ago, galactic standard."
This time nobody interrupted.
"Three days ago, we sent a small frigate to instigate close scans of planet Anhur."
He turned to the specialist behind him.
"The footage."
A few seconds later, the last moments of the SUV Letos appeared on the Chambers' holoscreen.
Specialist Ovos finished rattling the last bit of the analyst team's analysis. It felt like nobody could breathe.
The Councilors and the Salarians, having seen the footage before, regained their composure rather quickly. Well, they appeared to do so. Truthfully, Captain Kelir was still feeling dizzy from the sheer impossibility of Anhur's dramatic transformation, and he could see that Councilor Valern was not faring much better – it was professionalism that kept him in check.
Suddenly the Dalatrass' snide remarks made a bit more sense.
Jath'Amon was not composed at all.
His eyes were fixed on the frozen screen displaying the blinding, outrageous, obnoxious light shawling the continents. The towers that could possibly rival the Citadel Tower itself. The golden ropes of light chaining down the ocean.
"What… is this…? What in the Pillars… Is this some kind of joke!?"
"Joke!?" exploded Captain Kelir. "You just witnessed my men vanish on screen. You know you yourselves have suffered far more many losses, just how many ships did the Hegemony send to Anhur never to come back? Because we still haven't figured out that number!"
Because they died for nothing. They died for NOTHING. Nothing was answered, no mysteries were solved, there were no messages sent back, no debris, no signs of them anywhere, just those goddamn towers that seemingly swallowed the planet, so much like the arms of the Citadel, they were CLAWS.
"Captain Kelir."
He had no idea what their enemy was. No idea what it wanted. There was just so much light. So so SO much light. He had not slept in days because of that light. Light was supposed to reveal things, but this was blinding him, too bright, far too much.
He felt someone kick the back of his leg a little.
Oh. Everyone's eyes were on him.
"My deepest apologies, Councilors. This outburst was unbecoming of me."
He could feel everyone in the room scrutinizing him, except for Specialist Ovos, who glanced between everyone else trying to figure out if someone would start shooting soon, terrified.
"We understand that you are under a lot of stress, Captain Kelir" said Tevos with a carefully neutral expression. Don't do this again, or else was what the actual message was.
"I would also like to offer my apologies" said Jath'Amon. "My own reaction was also unbecoming of an ambassador. I apologize for my misconduct."
"Accepted, ambassador" said Counilor Sparatus.
"The Council has read all the relevant reports" announced Councilor Valern, "and with the aid of Dalatrass Esheel" was that a hint of bitterness? "we have reached a decision."
The Dalatrass' grin was downright predatory.
Oh no.
"The current hypothesis" she said "is that these tower-like megastructures are what is causing the bizarre visual phenomenon and quite possible generate the barrier around planet Anhur. And since the deployment of troops has proven to be incredibly unsafe, we have decided to strike at the source of the problem through a different means."
Fuck his gut.
"The simplest solution to our problem… is orbital bombardment."
…
...What?
"You- you can't be serious." The Batarian.
…What?
A chocked noise behind him. The specialist.
Did… did she really say that?
"Dalatrass… That's illegal."
"What an astute observation, Captain Kelir."
"Have you LOST your SANITY, you damn Councilors!?" roared Jath'Amon. "You would bombard a garden world!? We are your ALLIES, you are supposed to protect us!"
"And bombardment would be the most effective solution."
"Yes, and leave a smoking uninhabitable ruin behind! The Batarian Hegemony will NOT forgive this!"
"Councilors, I must agree with the Ambassador" said Captain Kelir. "With Anhur being currently invisible, there is no guarantee that any attempt at bombardment will hit the towers and not civilian targets."
"It is the plan with the highest possibility of success" argued Councilor Sparatus.
"Regarding the probability of hitting the target" said Dalatrass Esheel with a small but sharp grin on her face "I'm certain that the STG's VIs are already calculating the position of the towers. Isn't this correct, Councilor Valern?"
It's her idea and now she's trying to pass the responsibility to the Councilor?
It was so fucking obvious. If the "plan" succeeded, she could take credit for it – which would not even be a lie, since she was the one to come up with it – and boost her political ratings. If the plan failed, she could accuse the Council of breaking galactic law and the ensuing reputation of incompetence would also boost her ratings. Either way, she would win.
Jath'Amon clearly figured it out as well. "You varren shit!" he growled. "You're trying to reduce the Hegemony's influence to boost your fucking ratings!"
"The Council Chambers are not the place for such a vocabulary, Ambassador Jath'Amon" said Councilor Tevos with a distinctly disappointed air.
"You're not my school teacher!"
"Yet you seem eager to act like an unruly child…" growled Councilor Sparatus.
For fuck's sake…
"Councilors, permission to speak freely?" asked Captain Kelir.
"You may do" said Councilor Valern before anyone else could speak up.
Seems like he's not happy with Dalatrass Esheel either… No wonder, since she was obviously trying to take over his position.
"Thank you, Councilor Valern." He turned to everybody else in the room, struggling to remain calm. "Councilors, quite frankly your plan is to use a cannonball on a tadpole in a well." The non-Salarians in the room blinked in surprise at the use of slang, but Captain Kelir was certain that they understood the meaning well enough. Emboldened that he was not interrupted yet, he continued.
"Even if the VI programs accurately calculate the location of the towers, there is no guarantee that any attempt of bombardment will actually land on the intended target. I believe that it's safe enough to assume that the source of the current situation on Anhur is artificial, correct? Then whoever did this has most likely prepared orbital defenses as well."
"This is part of the reason why we decided on orbital bombardment as opposed to troop deployment" stated Councilor Sparatus. "Judging by the footage retrieved from the SUV Letos, the… barrier disrupts outcoming signals and electric devices."
"And cosmic debris lacks both, I understand. However, kinetic barriers and other types of point defense are not out of the question. If the towers are as important as we all assume they are, then they are certainly well-guarded."
Councilor Sparatus, being former military like every other Turian ever, nodded in acknowledgment, drawing a look of ire from the Dalatrass.
"Any other complaints?" she asked.
"Several. First of all, we do not know the actual number of the towers. We only have footage of one side of the planet, there could easily be more on the other side. In other words, even if we destroy those currently visible on the screen, the barrier could still hold up. Second, regardless of whether or not we successfully destroy the towers, the debris will land on the ground. As we have already stated, this goes against Citadel Law regarding weapons of mass destruction. While I understand that as the Council, you have the authority to overrule that law, the ramifications – and not only the political ones – will be extreme. You are rendering parts of the planet unlivable after all."
"And it's already an ecological disaster…" added Jath'Amon, undoubtedly referencing both the light pollution on the footage and whatever secrets he knew about the industrial operations there. Not that this was the right time to accuse him of anything.
"Exactly. And of course, all of this is under the assumption that the towers are the ones maintaining the barrier. It could be an entirely different system."
The Councilors exchanged meaningful looks, while the Dalatrass' face twisted in displeasure. The Batarian Ambassador was not quite as openly hostile as he was before Captain Kelir's speech, but was still examining him warily.
He's probably wondering if I'm plotting something. In truth, he was not; he just had a visceral reaction at how stupid this idea was.
"And what do you suggest, Captain Kelir?" asked Tevos.
His mind was working at light speed.
"We have already established that sending personnel on Anhur is not an option, true. However, we have retrieved footage from within the barrier. We need more data. I'm not a technician, but small specialized drones and other types of mechs will surely attract far less attention than a ship. For additional security, we can disguise it somehow…" An idea flashed.
"Ambassador, does Anhur have any meteor shower phenomena?"
He startled. "My apologies, I cannot recall at this moment…"
Councilor Valern was already on his omnitool. "You mean to disguise the signals of a mass drone landing amid a meteor shower to fool any potential sensors."
"Correct."
"We already attempted this" stated Jath'Amon. "As you are already aware of…" he said with no small amount of venom – he was still angry over the STG presence, no doubt "nothing came back."
Captain Kelir turned to him and looked at the Batarian straight in the eyes. The distance was just enough not to matter which set of eyes.
"Our technology is better."
This enraged him all over again.
"You condemned-"
"Ambassador." Councilor Tevos' voice cut through the air like a blade. "Displays of anger are not conductive to the operations of the Council. We understand that these are unusually stressful circumstances-" understatement "-but we request that you maintain your usual professionalism."
The ambassador bristled but said nothing, instead shifting in his chair to make his stance appear more straight.
"Captain Kelir."
"Yes, Councilor."
"You have made many valid arguments against our decision. My fellow Councilors, what is your opinion on the plan proposed by Captain Kelir?"
Were… Were they really considering his plan?
"It depends entirely on the STG's technical proficiency…" said Councilor Sparatus gravely. Perhaps he was not happy to have to depend entirely on Salarians.
Councilor Valern was still typing on his Omnittol. "Anhur does have meteor showers. The next one is in… thirty standard Citadel days. It lasts for three. The one after that is four months later."
"Can the STG develop specialized drones in that timeframe?" asked Councilor Tevos.
"Yes."
He's far more confident with an actual plan in place.
"I suppose I have no say in this decision" said Jath'Amon. "Whatever. Better than blowing up our planet, at least…"
You could try to sound a bit more grateful.
"Then it has been decided" said Councilor Tevos.
"Captain Kelir Rogs, Operation MIRAGE will proceed with previous leadership. The Council will now fund the development of all necessary equipment for the Operation. You are to return to your previous base of operation within twenty days, Citadel Standard, and await further orders."
Captain Kelir saluted, followed by the specialist. "Yes, Councilor."
"I suppose my presence is no longer required either?" asked Dalatrass Esheel, looking about as displeased as the Batarian ambassador.
Tevos pursed her lips but made no comment on it.
"Meeting adjourned."
Ambassador Jath'Amon turned his chair around and hovered back without a word. Captain Kelir was certain that if he could walk he would be marching out. Albeit, that was not the case, and the light noise from his hover chair quickly blended in with the foliage and rushing waters of the gardens.
He took one of the elevators and vanished.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Dalatrass Esheel. "Well argued, Captain Kelir."
Oh, she made no attempt to hide her resentment.
"Thank you, Dalatrass Esheel" he replied, sticking to protocol. She examined him for a bit longer, a scowl in her face.
She turned to the podium.
"Councilors. I am always available in case you need my services."
And with that, she left too.
Captain Kelir gave his own farewell and headed out too, with Specialist Ovos right behind him.
The clink of the elevator doors sounded like finality.
It was about a hundred or so meters down the elevator shaft when the buzzing in Captain Kelir's head was interrupted by his specialist collapsing on his knees.
"Specialist Ovos!?"
He was breathing heavily with an expression that was distant – he had not said a single word the entire time they were up on the Council Chambers save for the footage analysis, had barely reacted to anything. Captain Kelir was facing the Council so he did not have the opportunity to take in the state of his specialist but he did not expect the man to suddenly collapse like that.
"Do you need to see a doctor?"
"No, I- Maybe? No, it's not-" A deep breath, perhaps counting down the seconds. They passed through a few more floors. "I thought we were going to die."
"…That's… a bit of an exaggeration…" He was not sure what to say other than that.
The specialist nodded but otherwise did not verbally replied. Captain Kelir waited for him to calm down a bit. The elevator ride was long enough.
Finally the specialist straightened up. "Captain… what are we going to do now?"
"Enjoy our shore leave, I suppose." He knew that was not what he meant; what he was really asking was what the plans for the mission were, what their orders were, what they would do with the mechs, what the strategies would be, maybe even what they would do with the Council and the Dalatrass and the ambassador.
But Captain Kelir was no prophet.
"I need to tell the rest of the crew too… Three or four days, maybe?" Give the crew some time to take a break and relax without getting too relaxed; give them time to take care of business, if any. It would also be a good opportunity to restock, though he was certain the quartermaster had already ordered the necessary supplies. He would have to check, just in case.
There were a lot of things he had neglected doing in the last few days.
"Ye-yes, sir. That sounds fine" said the specialist, not really knowing how to react.
He was not sure what compelled him to this, but… "Let's have a drink. Sit at a bar for a few hours."
"Sir, I… I do not have the credits."
"For what, the bar down at the Presidium?"
"Uh, yes."
"Neither do I. I was thinking elsewhere."
"Right, uh… How about Flux?"
Captain Kelir turned to him. "Flux? I haven't heard of it before."
"It's, uh… I think it's a new place? I saw some good reviews on it on the Extranet – I did some research on the Citadel while on the way here and it was on the popular articles- it's a nightclub. At the Upper Wards."
"Quite close then…" It was only an elevator ride from the Presidium – though obviously the Presidium was connected to all the Wards.
At least he does not appear to be as anxious now as he was before.
They stayed silent for a few more moments. The elevator ride was coming to an end.
"Specialist Ovos, this is your first time coming to the Citadel, correct?"
"Uh, yes. I'm from Enirle originally."
Huh. "I see."
"Is… something wrong with that, sir?" He was getting nervous again.
"No, nothing. I was only expecting that you would be more adventurous with your exploration of the Citadel. See the popular sites. Like Archos."
The elevator doors opened to a completely flustered Salarian blubbering protests and his amused companion typing messages on his omnitool.
It was not quite the right hour for a nightclub, at least not to their biological clocks; it had been "day" in the Presidium and Captain Kelir's own sense of time was completely lost in the days of insomnia and the eternal blackness of space. He was certain he would regret this outing in a few hours, but the suggestion of the bar visit was enough to make Specialist Ovos emerge from his eggshell a little, and that was good; he did not need the tadpole to collapse in the elevator from anxiety again.
Steeping into the nightclub, it was easy to see why it had become as popular as it was. The place was massive, prime real estate, with multiple floors that could see to the lower ones and massive windows that offered a wonderful view to the Wards. It's dark blue and red lights were specifically arranged not to be annoying to the eye, which was quite a feat; the tables were right next to the windows for those who were here for sightseeing and a somewhat secluded dance floor, not really out of sight by semi-obstructed by the wall and away from foot traffic, giving the dancers a convenient spot to enjoy themselves without stepping on any toes.
The two Salarians slowly made their way to the bar, bypassing the Turian waitress. Captain Kelir was slightly surprised to see the barman being a Volus; the majority of Volus drinks were toxic to anyone not a Krogan due to the sheer amount of ammonia in them. Then again, the Volus could be the owner. It seemed more likely; who knew how many credits it took to open up shop in the Upper Wards of all places. There was also an Asari brewing tea behind the counter; not the sort of thing you would expect at a night club, but it was obviously open at all hours.
Even in the morning hours, it drew a crowd. Most of the tables were full of people enjoying a midday snack the incredible view to the Upper Wards and the Serpent Nebula. Even the bar stools had a few people – a Hanar in the far corner as regular chairs were not really made for them, and a Turian a few seats over gazing to the void; Captain Kelir could not really distinguish his features from here.
Captain Kelir took a seat at the other end of the bar, with Specialist Ovos choosing the one next to him.
The Volus approached them. "Welcome to Flux, Sur'Kesh clan. *sffff* Name's Doran. I *sffff* am the owner and bartender *sffff* of this club. What can I do for you?"
"A Memory Stealer, please" ordered Captain Kelir.
"*sffff* Very well." He turned to Specialist Ovos. "And for you, sir?"
"A glass of Akantha, please."
"*sffff* Right away. If you'd like, we have some Queasar tables on the top floor."
That was a surprise. Though it honestly should not be. "We'll sit on the bar for now, thank you."
"No problem. Please enjoy yourselves. I'll get your drinks shortly."
He left to ready their orders, leaving the two Salarians alone.
Captain Kelir turned to the young technician. "You did not mention this was a casino."
"I… did not know, sir."
"It's fine, I was just a little surprised."
"I suppose I'm a little surprised too, sir."
"Finding a casino by accident?"
"That too, but- I did not expect you to order a cocktail."
"What, did you think I was the middle self with a single ice cube kind of person?"
"Well, basically."
Captain Kelir had to laugh at that. "I guess that's the expectation for all military of my rank."
Specialist Ovos did not say anything to that.
Truth be told, Captain Kelir was not entirely sure what to say either – there were all sorts of small, inane, safe topics to talk about, but he did not want the younger Salarian to feel like he was being interrogated or scrutinized by his Captain. They were here to relax, after all. Speaking of which…
"Are you feeling better now?"
He made an affirmative gesture, far more confident than before. "Yes, sir. I apologize for earlier."
"Accepted. It's good that you lasted long enough not to collapse in front of the Council." Even the words coming out of his own mouth were enough to crush him again. "What a fucking mess…"
"Sounds serious. *sffff*"
Doran appeared out of nowhere smoothly sliding their drinks of choice across the counter. Specialist Ovos mumbled a "thanks" and they both took a sip of their respective choices.
Captain Kelir relished the smooth burn of his cocktail, surprised to find it more flavorful than he expected, especially the juice; he must be ordering high quality stuff here. Not that a club this size on the Upper Wards could afford to offer anything subpar if it wanted to maintain its clientele, even with the casino on the top floor.
"This is very good."
"*sfff* Thank you. People usually like it when it tastes a bit different than the standard market stock. *sfff*."
A noise came from the Turian halfway across the bar. Doran shook his head.
"*sfff* Sorry, Sur'Kesh Clan, I've got to take care of this…"
He promptly left, sparing Captain Kelir from potentially having to explain what "fucking mess" the Council was involved in – not that he could, with Operation MIRAGE being Top Secret.
"Sir…"
Captain Kelir turned to the specialist.
"What is going to happen next? I-I'm not talking about the mission, but… the meeting just now… I mean, I don't know much about politics, but…"
"You have a bad feeling?" finished Captain Kelir, knowing the feeling all too well.
"I suppose… I just don't like not knowing what to do. And like I said, I don't know much about politics…"
Captain Kelir took another sip of his cocktail. "Honestly, I'd rather not get involved in politics either."
That elicited a visible reaction out of the specialist. "But you were incredible up there! You talked and they listened! You changed their minds!"
"Incredible, huh? Honestly, I was fuelled by disbelief mostly."
"Disbelief?"
"The Council reached a decision. However, it was a stupid ass decision." Specialist Ovos chocked on his drink a bit. "As the Captain in charge of the operation it's my duty to point that out."
"I did not expect Councilor Sparatus to listen. From what I heard the Turians never question orders."
"That's true, but Sparatus has been a politician longer than he's been a soldier. And it was not his idea, it was the Dalatrass'."
The Dalatrass… "She's going to be a problem… She and the ambassador both."
"Sir? The ambassador?"
"Call it a feeling." There was something off about the elderly Batarian that made his horns itch.
"But he wants to help with, uh, the situation as much as we do!"
Of that he had no doubt; nobody wanted their planet to just vanish. "His opinion of the Council's decision is not much more positive than mine."
"So you're saying he's going to… what, argue with the Council all the time?"
No. It'll be much worse. He did not voice this, instead returning to his drink. The specialist did the same.
A heavy silence settled between them as they both let the alcohol work its way through their stomachs.
"BUT I KEEP TELLING YOU, SHE ABANDONED ME!"
All conversations instantly stopped. All eyes fell on the Turian on the bar. Doran's expression was impossible to see with his environmental suit, but his body stance made it clear that he was beyond annoyed with the customer.
"Listen Palaven Clan, you had far too much to drink. *sfff* You better go home and clear your head."
"You can't tell me shit. She'll pay for this, Spirits I need her."
"*sffff* And you won't get her back by wasting your time here."
"Fuck off, as if she'll take me back. What does "more than I can give you" even MEAN!?"
With that last shout he finally raised himself from the counter and that was when Captain Kelir recognized him.
"General Septimus Oraka?"
Specialist Ovos balked. "He's a general!?"
"Sir, please leave my bar. *sfff* You're upsetting the other customers."
"Not as much as she upset me, that-"
"If this one could be excused…"
Huh?
Wh-why was the Hanar interfering.
"This one politely requests that you temporarily cease the discussion regarding your interpersonal romantic relationships while this one is currently in communication with their personal oral care physician."
Now all the stares were aimed at the Hanar. General Oraka was openly gaping at them. Then…
"You think I give a varren's ass about your DENTIST!?"
And the bar descended to hell.
"What in the Spirits happened here!?"
It was a stupid question; the answer was a fight, obviously.
But, still… "That's quite the mess you made."
Usually, when someone located on the Citadel said the words "bar fight", the immediate and logical assumption is that said bar fight took place in Archos, and it would involve someone's tab, an argument over the dancers, at least one cranky Krogan and at least two even crankier Batarians, at least two Turians, maybe a Vorcha or five, and maybe also a round of dice gone very wrong.
You know, normal stuff. Was this racial profiling? Yeah, probably, but percentage is percentage and he had shot at by the above mentioned groups at least three times as many as he had from all the other groups combined. So. There.
Unfortunately, a Hanar nearly succeeding in murdering a decorated Turian general and getting stopped by two STG agents was not "normal stuff", so here was C-Sec Detective Garrus Vakarian taking a forced break from his previous investigation – no, Inspector Pallin, he does not need a break he needs answers – to check what was currently the strongest contender for Random Incident of the Month.
Good thing there was footage. From multiple angles. When there were tentacles involved there was always footage.
That sentence can be read very wrong out of context. And someone was breaking their credit chips out there already.
General Septimus Oraka, retired for the past few years, had some very green looking marks across his normally dark brown skin and was immediately rushed to the closest hospital because levo-chilarity poison in a dextro-chilarity bloodstream was no joke. The drunk as the alcohol test proved Hanar was restrained by an asari officer in a biotic field – sue them, Hanar normally did not start fights, they could not crap out the required specialized equipment on such immediate notice; actually yeah, someone would sue them over this. Another officer was currently trying to calm down the Hanar's dentist who had been on call this entire time, and yes they were all surprised that Hanar even had dentists but everyone needed a hole to put food in.
So this left him to question just about every other person present in the bar, including the owner who had admitted he had given the Hanar an extra glass or two, the terrified Asari who barely knew how to maintain a Barrier and spent most of the fight cowering behind it, the Spirits-slammed Turian waitress who still could not believe someone "as great as General Oraka" could do such a thing, and the two STG agents.
The other guy doing the questioning had taken all the regular civilian patrons who all had some variations of "I was admiring the view and it happened so suddenly!" Asshole.
Yes, Garrus was left alone to question all the difficult cases. Starting with the owner.
The owner was the one with the most information; General Oraka had recently gone through a break-up with the Consort Sha'ira and had been coming here every day or every other day for the past three weeks or so. Privately, Garrus thought that "break-up" was a very generous term to use; Sha'ira was basically something between a hostess and a therapist – THE hostess and therapist to be exact. She was one of the most famous figures in the Citadel. It took whole months to book an appointment with her. While to Garrus' knowledge there were not any "intimate therapy sessions" going on in her Chambers to use an euphemism, it was not odd for a client of hers to fall in love in what was from her part a professional relationship. But he refrained from commenting.
So, the barman/owner tried to cut him off, and that was when the drunk Hanar made the oh-so-wise decision to yell at the angry drunk as opposed to taking their call elsewhere. The Asari bartender confirmed the story and added that for the last few days he was muttering something about "making her regret it", so Garrus made sure to take note of that too, even if it was not directly relevant.
The rest of the story was exactly as the customers by the windows said it; General Oraka lunged at the Hanar in a fit of drunken rage like the savage predators they were once evolved from and the Hanar, being very drunk and also evolved from a savage predator decided that between fight or flight the option was fight. It was actually very impressive. Maybe those Blasto movies had something to them after all.
Which left the last bit of the fight and the last of the people to inter- take the statement of. The STG agents.
Salarians physically were not as tough as Turians. An active STG agent could take on the standard Turian in a one-on-one fight; while all Turians went to the military, most of them did not stay after the mandatory service and Garrus was no exception. But General Oraka was definitely a nightmare of an opponent, especially with his drunken strength and rage, and an angry writhing mass of poisonous tentacles in the middle.
The two Salarians were in poor shape. They would be feeling it for a few days for sure. There were paramedics around them patching them up.
They did not have any more information than the bartenders did; their statement was identical to that of the other patrons even if they interfered in the fight; it was a drunken spat and nobody else was qualified to stop it; eventually Captain Kelir Rogs used his omni-taser to down them both, as any other attempts at restraining them proved to be impossible. They had not even recognized the general when they entered the bar because he had his face resting on the counter.
No, it was not their statement that interested Garrus.
Garrus had been a detective for years. He was not a legend like his father – never would be – but he learned how to read people in his line of work. The tiredness in their expressions and bodies was not the kind that occurred from a quick fight and the ensuing injuries, even though that was definitely present.
No, those two were exhausted. They were exhausted in the way that indicated long, sleepless nights over documents. The kind that he saw in his colleagues and sometimes in the mirror of his bathroom when dealing with That One Case.
He did not ask. But speaking of That One Case… he should get back to his own.
He took the statements, turned them in, it would be turned to another office from here, and everyone involved would get little more than a fine. It was too short of a distraction, overall.
Hours later, Garrus was doing the same as he did before the sudden bar fight.
Checking months' worth of receipts of missing and delayed Terminus to Citadel shipments.
There was a gap and he would find it. He had to.
It was dark here. It had to be dark in here, to be as far away from the intense lights as possible. The hideout was as dark as they could possibly make it, drew as little energy as possible, making everyone inside step with caution, navigate by the feel of the surface under their feet and the direction the slight breeze and the voices were coming from, tracing fingers on the walls, memorizing like the blind. Even under the protection of the firewalls and codes and the scrambling of whatever tiny little signals coming from them, there was no telling how far the enemy's reach was, how detailed their systems.
Perhaps he would not care in the slightest if somebody other than himself drew power.
But they could not rely on the whims of a madman for safety. So darkness it was. Stumbling like the blind. What a shame, to be deprived of eyes. One of the very few humiliations he had yet to experience. What would he have thought if he saw himself now.
The darkness. Sweet, sweet relief, away from the ever blinding lights, the dark was like a balm to the soul.
It was dark and cold here and it felt like sweet relief in the summer, like the wind breathing under his skin and lifting away his exhaustion even for a moment.
The faint sound of water tickled his ears, still smelling miraculously clean, tantalizingly close. He stood before the barrier that separated him from it; a makeshift but well thought-out door.
"Brought supplies."
There was no password or code even if there was a debate over one; just a detailed scan of something deeper, that went beyond the surface of the skin and the iris of the eye and dug deep into flesh and bone. Even twins had different fingertips, different patterns in their epidermis, different arrangements between the muscles that kept their hearts going. Nobody's biological signature could be perfectly replicated, and that was what they chose as their key to this place. Something that not even the madman could hope to copy.
They confirmed his vitals. Made a small comment about the vitals indicating exhaustion; nothing new there. It still astounded him that they even thought of pointing it out; or perhaps it was because they valued efficiency in a way only they could.
The entrance opened and he walked in with his bags in tow.
He stood by the entrance and took count of the shadows and the voices. Everyone was already here. Good.
Not everyone noticed him entering the hideout immediately. They greeted him when he entered though, thanked him warmly.
The biotics went first, needing food more than anyone here – some fish were being roasted in the corner from the miraculously clean streams, using a heated metal board as opposed to a normal grill to minimize the smoke as much as possible. Not many plants made it down here, not with how dark they kept the place, but there was no real need for them; with so much light outside to let the plants photosynthesize they would be good in terms for oxygen – for now. There was no telling what would happen in the future. At least for now the madman appreciated the plant life for its aesthetics and that was good enough.
Low voices could be heard discussing puns in all the seriousness of a heated extranet debate, back when he had access to those things as limited as it was – by the pillars it had been so, so long, the appearance of a screen was more of a vague memory. The name argument again – in his opinion perhaps they should just ditch the whole pun idea to begin with. He walked over and told them as much. It felt good to tell them his opinion. They laughed and helped themselves to the supplies.
He kept the dextro stuff in a separate bag so they did not have to stumble in the dark, some for the few turians here, a bit for the tiny handful of quarians; they figured out how to turn it into paste and sterilize it in the process. They thanked him too, and told him how the new guy saved the best fish for him today because it was his turn to do the legwork.
Even with the cold and dark of this place, the gratitude warmed him up.
Ironically, things were better for him now. Far better than before. These people, as different and weird as they were, as they came from completely different places he could never hope to set his foot on, places he could not even imagine… They appreciated him. They let him rest as he liked and were grateful to him, even helped him out as much as possible, they took turns to swap out with him and let him sleep in when the chronic pain in his bones became too much, because he did not have to keep working as his spine screamed at him. He worked because he wanted to, and he wanted to work now. For them.
It was selfish beyond belief, but…
Eggman invading was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Author notes: Well, a lot to unpack here!
First of all, Dalatrass Esheel and Jath'Amon are canon ME characters; Esheel becomes Councilor of you chose not to save the Council in ME1, and Jath'Amon is the Batarian ambassador in a spinoff game. There is a LOT to unpack with him in particular.
Archos is the original name of Chora's Den. According to the wiki the name changed when Fist took over; since Fist is a human and thus not around, the same is still the old one.
I snuck in a Snapcube reference. I wanted to make it since November. See if you can find it because the people in the thread had a hard time.
Yes, Garrus is here. With plot importance.
And finally, the last scene. I wrote this part a couple of months ago I think, as I was going through a small writer's block. This is a significantly more polished version of an interlude I posted in the thread. A first glimpse at Anhur. There are many, many secrets hiding in the dark...
I hope you enjoyed! Please, read and review!