The rights to Star Wars belong to Disney, for now it seems, and the rights to Mass Effect and SWTOR belong to EA, and they don't seem keen on giving them up.
With the complete annihilation of a quarter of the city, Cipritine falls under Sith control in a day. Bunkers of civilians are put on lockdown, soldiers are captured en mass, and Sith forces relocate to other battlefields across Palaven. The Gage transports fly in and out of the system resupplying the Sith with more troops and droids while taking VIP prisoners back to Sol, the heavily wounded troops back to Shanxi for medical treatment, and the fallen back to their families. Without the support of any turian fleet and the rapid elimination of all major military bases, the turian defense loses steam at an alarming rate.
The turuan resolve especially wavers after secondary bombardments of their other major cities across the planet. While most of the combat capable citizens continue the fight, the number of surrendering groups grows with every civilian bunker cut open and their occupants put under arrest. The planet's strongest holdouts become target areas for the likes of the Dark Lords to do with as they see fit, leaving not but corpses in their wakes. The increase in replacement rate for droid forces eventually eclipses the turians' ability to destroy them and the planet effectively falls under Sith control, with enough hardliners still resisting to sate the boredom of Darth Ferrus.
It is in this environment that Benezia and the Citadel fleet enter the home system of the Turian Hierarchy. The diplomatic fleet emerges from the mass relay with the Destiny Ascension being the last to transition back into relative speeds. They begin broadcasting their message of diplomacy on all their channels and move in formation to Palaven.
As the fleet moves close enough to see the planet, The Strength of Imperius and its escort emerge from hyperspace just outside their maximum range. Benezia steels herself as she faces down the fleet killer, sighing in relief when it foregoes charging its main weapon or moving any closer. As she counts her good fortune, the Sith contact them on an open channel. Benezia gives the all clear to put it through and Vice Admiral Hackett appears before them.
"Attention unknown vessels, you are entering an active combat zone," the Hackett says, "State your intentions or you will be considered hostile and be fired upon."
"I am Matriarch Benezia T'soni of the Asari Republics' Council of Matriarchs, chosen representative of the Citadel Council. I have come with the intentions of beginning diplomatic discussions with your race in regard to ending the conflict between your race and the Turian Hierarchy."
Hackett looks away from them for a moment, "Hold your position, any movement will be met with hostility."
The hologram blinks away as Lidanya breathes a sigh of relief, "That went well, they're not shooting us at least."
"One step at a time," Benezia responds.
After a minute, Hackett calls back, "Ambassador, I've been given orders to escort your ships, and your ship only, to the command vessel."
Benezia nods, "That will do. Please transmit the flight path and we will follow you."
Hackett nods and blink out again.
"Order all vessels to hold their position, no one is to follow us," Benezia says, "This is classic military posturing, nothing more."
"Understood," Lidanya says,
The Strength of Imperius turns back towards the planet and flies off, the Destiny Ascension following close behind. As they approach, a ship lifts from mid-orbit passed a hundred or so other ships to meet them. Knowing it is the command ship, Benezia has a shuttle prepared and makes her way to the hangar, collecting a security escort of commandos. Once the two vessels cease moving, Benezia's shuttle takes off and flies into a directed hangar bay between the split prongs of the Star Destroyer.
One they land, Benezia gets a good look at the Sith architecture, intimidating and practical in equal measure. As the ramp opens up, she sees more details of the hangar. There are no living combat troops in the area, only technicians, pilots, and scores of their machines. Ahead of her are two uniformed officers with a guard of infantry class battle droids. Benezia steps forward. The first two security droids keep their optics focused on her and their weapons ready. The metal constructs unnerve her a bit, they outnumber her commandos and have more advanced weapons. It hammers home that she's on hostile territory, but none of her emotions show.
"Greetings from The Citadel Council," Benezia bows, "I am Matriarch Benezia T'soni serving as ambassador for the councilors."
"I am Admiral Kastanie Drescher, commanding naval officer of the Sith Alliance 1st Assault fleet," she replies with all the enthusiasm of an irritated feline as Williams steps forward with much the same demeanor.
"General Andreus Williams, commander of all Sith Alliance ground forces in this theatre of war."
With no warm welcome to be found, Benezia jumps to business, "I suppose I should explain what The Citadel Council is. They are-"
"The asari, salarian, and turian governing alliance composed of themselves and their servant races. We are aware of who they are and have actively been attempting to avoid their gaze for as long as possible since our campaign started," Drescher interrupts.
Benezia swallows her rising disdain at the admiral's rudeness, "Not servants, associate races. They require proper guidance on the greater galactic stage. The council races provide an environment where they can grow safely.
"By shooting first and sending your diplomats when they refuse to kneel at their feet?" Williams growls, "We were growing just fine on our own when your patrol shot at our people."
"I can understand how this must appear to you. The Turian Hierarchy was far too zealous in their efforts to enforce Citadel policy and their excessive retaliation was unjustified. It is my hope that a meeting with the council could be set up so that there needn't be any further bloodshed."
"Ambassador," Drescher steps forward, "You must understand that we are military officers, not diplomats. The Dark Lords that accompanied us are busy fighting planet side right now so you'd have to wait for one of them to return. We can attempt to get into contact with High Command and the Parliament from the conference room, but we make no guarantees."
"That is acceptable, Admiral," Benezia replies, eager to avoid the Dark Lords, "Please, lead the way."
Drescher and Williams nod and march out of the hangar as Benezia and her escort follow. Throughout the corridors of the ship, each security droid they pass turns their head and keeps them in their artificial sights. Eventually, they pass by a Sith Order's open training room where the hum and strikes of red lightsabers blare.
The asari peek into the room to see lords and apprentices going at each other, "Your culture is quite fascinating," Benezia says, desperate to alleviate the growing tension, "There isn't any other spacefaring race that continues fencing as a part of military training, especially to such a proficient degree. It is impressive."
"Those are Sith Lords, my dear Ambassador," Williams condescends, "Those of our people who are strong in The Force. In their hands, a lightsaber is far more deadly than anything else, save for The Force itself."
"The Force?" Benezia inquires.
"They must mean biotics," a commando answers.
"No," Drescher growls at them as her march grinds to a halt, "We mean, The Force; the energy the permeates all things and binds the universe together. Most certainly not those parlor tricks picked up by contaminated zygotes. Are all races this willfully ignorant?"
The same commando huffs at Drescher before Benezia can silence her, "Our entire race has strong biotic potential. It is science, not some mystical for-"
The ignition of a lightsaber cuts her off as a gravelly voice growls, "Shut up, just shut your Kalig Damned mouth. I am beyond sick of ignorant aliens telling us what they think they know."
The group turns to see the form of Lord Grissom; his armor damaged in battle with his boots and gauntlets stained blue. His tired and bloodshot eyes scan the alien women as his saber hums in his hand. The asari commandos point their weapons at him as he sweeps his hand to the side with a sneer. The guns fly from their grasps and clatter across the floor. Benezia's eyes widen, and she holds her breath at her guards' disarmament.
"Lord Grissom, that is enough," Drescher says, "They are here on a diplomatic mission, not as our enemies, yet. Leave them alone."
Benezia sends a leer at her guards, "Let us all calm ourselves. It was a misunderstanding, no need to repeat mistakes. I apologize for the insensitive remarks."
Grissom flares his nostrils at them but extinguishes his lightsaber, marching passed them and into the training room, "Damned aliens… Jason would be alive if it weren't for them…"
The door closes behind him and Benezia lets out a silent sigh.
"It would be in your best interests not to piss off a Sith Lord," Drescher sneers at the misspeaking commando, "And be thankful that the Dark Lords are leading attacks on the planet and not present to hear you dismiss The Force. They take such offenses very seriously."
"It would also be wise of you to respect The Force," Williams adds, "Its reverence is the only religion of the Alliance."
The two officers resume their strides, Benezia looks at her security force, all in horror as they regain their senses and retrieve their weapons, "How did he do that?"
Drescher doesn't turn as she answers, "The Force, Ambassador, do attempt to keep up with the conversation, I'm not fond of redundancy. Your race is entirely biotic, ours is strongly attuned to The Force. It offers many abilities that the ignorant races might consider to be unnatural."
Williams lists off some on his fingers, "Telekinesis is one of the many gifts bestowed by The Force, alongside abilities like precognition, unnatural endurance…"
"Empathic sensory?" Benezia blurts.
Drescher lifts an eyebrow, "It is among their abilities, yes."
"As well as the ability to conjure lightning from their person," Williams adds, "Against that, biotic abilities are mere playthings and considering we have made no use of this Element Zero your civilization seems dependent upon, we've never encountered them until we were slaughtering turian cabals in droves."
"Oh yes, the Mandalorians were quite disappointed how easily they fell compared to what they were trained for," Drescher says as her smirk grows.
Benezia fights the urge to batter the two commanders as they belittle biotic powers. In the end, she holds her tongue, and to her relief so do her commandos. The Sith make no further efforts at conversation as they march Benezia to a room.
They activate the console and a hologram of an official projects above the table, "Admiral Drescher, General Williams; Darth Vafrem said you'd be calling soon with an ambassador from The Citadel. One moment please."
It doesn't take long for Darth Vafrem's form to appear on the holo-projector, his smile amiable and disarming, "Why hello there, madam. It is a great pleasure to officially meet an asari for the first time. General, Admiral, you may leave us and return to the campaign on Palaven."
"Yes, Milord," they both say as they bow and then depart.
Benezia takes note of the reverence given to the man before her before turning to her security team, "You may depart as well, I can handle this on my own."
They all nod and march outside the door and into the corridor of the ship. With just her and the projection of Vafrem in the room, the Dark Lord places his hand over his heart and inclines his body towards her.
"Allow me to introduce myself to you, madam; I am Darth Vafrem, Dark Lord of the Sith and head of the Pyramid of Arts."
Benezia steels herself at the mention of 'Dark Lord,' but bows back regardless, "Greetings to you as well, Darth Vafrem. I am Matriarch Benezia T'soni, representative of The Citadel."
They both return to upright positions, "Matriarch T'soni, such a lovely name for a lovely lady. Yet, you are afraid of me, or rather, you are afraid of my title. Why is that?"
That comment unnerves her further. As a diplomat with centuries of experience, she's mastered keeping herself from showing any emotions, yet the Dark Lord sees right through her persona. She rethinks her strategy and replies.
"My apologies, you see, I was privy to the actions of another of your people's Dark Lords and what he was able to do."
"Ah, Darth Tempestus, no doubt about that," Vafrem says, his smile returning, "Worry not, my dear, not all of us are so frightfully quick to aggravate. You have my most genuine promise that you've nothing to fear from me. I am an artist above all else and a soul dedicated to the perfection of expression, not destruction for destruction's sake."
Benezia gives a measured smile back at that, "Thank you. It is reassuring to see that there is more to your race than military might. I believe that culture is far more important to the survival of a species than its ability to wage war."
"Ah, but waging war is an art form in and of itself, madam," Vafrem says, "The art of war turns dire odds into glorious victory, hopelessness into triumph, and creativity into power. Each battlefield is a canvas and each soldier, weapon, and tactic a color to create marvels. However, I understand your position on the matter, it is in fact my place in the Alliance is to make certain our culture endures as the Dark Lord of Arts. A duty that I would give my very life to carry out."
Benezia nods along, "It is wonderful to see such dedication to a race's culture. However, while I would love nothing more than to discuss these things, I fear I have come with duties of my own."
"Ah yes, no doubt," Vafrem nods, "I must admit that I am surprised that the turians have gone this far without calling for your aid sooner, though judging by your expression, I would guess that this wasn't voluntary on their part. You must have some great sway over them because even after seeing most his capitol city reduced to rubble, the Primarch still refused to admit defeat."
Benezia fights the urge to react, "They had their concerns but eventually they agreed to send an official envoy to meet with you. Though, I must admit, your people did not make it easy."
"Ah, you refer to our little bait tactic, not one of mine, I assure you, far too unsubtle for my tastes," Vafrem replies, "My apologies, it was meant to draw out the majority of the turian fleets so to give use the largest window possible to attack Palaven with as little interference as possible. The fact that you were the ones to arrive out there at the front lines came as quite the shock to us."
Benezia studies him as she goes over his words, scrutinizing the details for far longer than she'd like, "It worked out well in your favor. With the council taking charge as we did, we have stayed the wrath of the other turian fleets."
"Oh, it wasn't too concerning while we had our other dreadnaught on standby just outside the system. Even a military fleet as large as the one you arrived with wouldn't pose too much of a threat with all your ships in one place. I do hope you were not counting on that scaring us in any capacity," he counters, "But you are not here to discuss military matters, you are here with a message."
"Yes," Benezia begins, "On behalf of The Citadel Council, I would formally like to invite your diplomats to The Citadel so that we might put an end to this war and establish more beneficial relationships between your race and the rest of the galaxy."
Vafrem gives a smile to her, "While I can't say that being friendly with the spikeheads is particularly appealing to me, if all members of your race are as lovely as yourself, it would certainly make my day to be on better terms with the galactic community."
She accepts his blatant flattery with false humility, "You are too kind, sir."
"Oh please, there is no need to act so insincerely humble about it, Madam T'soni," Vafrem replies, "You are a very beautiful woman, and you know it. Humility where none is warranted can be seen as weakness in my culture."
Benezia nearly breaks her façade as Vafrem calls her out. However, the Dark Lord's grin widens slightly and Benezia realizes he knows. She feels figuratively stripped bare for the Dark Lord, as if her intentions are as open to him as an old book. Just like…
"I suppose yours is a culture that respects frankness and bluntness above politics," Benezia responds.
"Not all of us," Vafrem says, "I find the intrigue of it all very enjoyable actually, there's a reason it has historically been called, The Great Game. So long as there is an art to it, I will endeavor to master it. However, I fear I've led us off topic, and I apologize for that. How would your Council like to meet with us?"
Benezia leaps at the chance to get to get back to business, "As I said before, the Council would like to invite your representatives to The Citadel itself. You will be allowed a small security team of your own choosing and will be provided with an escort of Citadel Security officers while aboard. In addition, the escort for your diplomats cannot be more than ten ships and none can be above frigate classification, meaning over 600 meters in length."
Vafrem's smile fades, "That would be unacceptable, Madam T'soni."
"I'm sorry?"
"You must understand, the only contact we've had with aliens up until this point has been down the barrel of a gun," Vafrem lies, "My people would never be able to accommodate such a request because, unfortunately, they have no reason to trust you. This is, of course, due to no error on your part, you simply arrived so late after our war with the turians had escalated to such a degree."
"I understand, but then what option would you suggest?"
Darth Vafrem appears to ponder the question for a moment, "Would your leaders be willing to come to Sith space to negotiate, or even at Palaven?"
Benezia shakes her head, "I don't believe so, even if all your intentions are good, I fear that there are certain protocols that would prevent such an action."
"So, they fear for their own safety as well?" Vafrem determines, "I understand that not all leaders are as quick to put themselves into the fray as some of ours, but such a standard for themselves is troublesome none the less."
"You make it sound as if the Council believes itself above your race," Benezia tries to placate.
"Do they not?" Vafrem asks, "Is that not why the turians thought they could infringe upon our sovereignty? Every transmission from them that I've studied implies that they believe themselves our overlords, there is much speculation in my Order that the other council races act the same."
"Understandable considering you've only interacted in mostly hostile situations," Benezia says, "However I assure you that this is all a very extreme set of unfortunate circumstances."
"Be that as it may, I'm afraid as one of my people's leaders, I cannot allow any of my citizens to go somewhere potentially hostile without protection," Vafrem lets out a disheartened sigh, "I'm afraid that the only option that comes to mind is for us to send a full military fleet to ensure the safety of our leaders."
"That's-"
"I understand your position, it looks far too much like an act of aggression on our part, but the truth of the matter is that even among the Dark Lords, a majority would only accept our leaders going to the center of your space with the full might of a military fleet backing them up, and that would include a Silencer-Class dreadnaught."
"I'm sorry," Benezia begins, "But I'm afraid that would be unacceptable to the Council. Even in normal circumstances, a foreign dreadnaught in such close proximity to The Citadel would be seen as a declaration of war, your radiation weapon would only make such an action more overt."
"I agree," Vafrem concedes, "If this were an ideal standard first contact scenario, I don't think my people would be so against a more restrained escort. However, this seems like it has been anything but standard for you. Hypothetically, if we could send military vessels as, let's say, an insurance of intent, what would be the largest number of ships you could possibly allow at The Citadel should we send a fleet without a dreadnaught?"
Benezia ponders for a moment, "Ignoring the standard first contact protocol, forty at the absolute most and likely less considering the output of your heavy cruisers."
"No, no, that won't do at all…"The Dark Lord hums, "Ah, a revelation, forty is the most that your council would allow in the system itself?"
Benezia nods, "That is correct."
"What about on the other side of the relay connecting to The Citadel? What if we were to station forces there along with the forty in the system? That would likely satisfy my colleagues."
Benezia ponders it, "While I do not believe I can accept it, I will ask the Council for their input. As you've said, first contact with your race has been anything but standard so they may make an exception."
"Perhaps we can lower the number of ships we send into system to placate them?" Vafrem says, "I'll see what I can do on my end."
"Thank you, Lord Vafrem," Benezia inclines her head towards the hologram.
After reporting the Sith's conditions of their escort, Sparatus is none too happy about making the concessions.
"This is outrageous!" Sparatus sneers over the holo-call, "Who are they to make any demands of us?"
"I think that you've forgotten that they have your people's home planet under their control," Belis comments.
Tevos nods, "And considering the events of their first contact, I think it is reasonable that they do not feel confident enough in our intentions to send their people here without military support."
"They don't trust us, and frankly speaking, I cannot blame them for it," Benezia says, "Unless you would like to meet them on their terms, this compromise is likely all we will be able to agree upon."
"And if they attack The Citadel with their military support?" Sparatus argues.
"What reason do they have to attack us?" Tevos counters, "So far they haven't attacked any emissary of the council, what reason would that change now."
"We could put it to a vote, Sparatus, however, I think you know what the result will be," Belis adds.
Sparatus leers at him but says nothing further. Tevos looks back to Benezia, "Matriarch, do you have anything to report about your observations of the sith themselves?"
She nods, "Yes, as we were escorted through the ship, one of my security guards made a very shortsighted remark that offended them, and I saw firsthand the strange powers of one of their warriors."
"What did you observe?" Belis asks.
"It was a display of telekinesis, very precise telekinesis," Benezia says, "First he brandished one of their plasma swords at us because of a comment of the errant guard."
"He threatened her?!" Tevos gasps.
"Yes, it appears they take their religion very seriously, as they claim it is the source of their powers," Benezia replies, "As he did so, my guards raised their rifles at him, but then he waved his hand, and they were pulled from their grasps. They were essentially disarmed, but luckily the Admiral that was escorting us and I brought the situation back under control."
"So quick to violence," Sparatus growls.
"It was likely he had just come from battle as his armor was covered in blood, and his expression looked rather pained. He muttered something about someone he knew having died. I believe on some level, the Sith are as tired of this war as the turians are."
"A good sign, I suppose," Tevos says, "Though I am curious how religion could give them their powers."
"It is likely the other way around, they've built their religion around this power that their people possess," Belis says.
"I concur," Benezia says, "Though only a select few seem to possess any powers at all. It may be why their Dark Lords hold so much power in their society."
"On that issue, Benezia," Tevos begins, "This Dark Lord you spoke with, Darth Vafrem, what would you make of him personally?"
Benezia reflects on her interactions for a moment before speaking, "Very amiable, yet there is something about him that I cannot help but feel apprehensive about. He saw right through me and could deduce my intentions and emotions with unnatural ease. I hate to admit it, but he was in complete control of the conversation, and I had difficulty determining the truth of his words at times. However, he was very understanding and I feel his desires for a cessation of hostilities were genuine"
"If he were to come to the negotiating table, would he pose a threat to us?" Belis asks.
Benezia shakes her head, "I couldn't tell you for certain. However, while my understanding of their culture is limited, I can say for certain that to achieve his station, he must have demonstrated great feats of power with The Force."
"The Force?"
"Their religion," Benezia says, "They believe in a life energy that connects everything in the galaxy together and that some of their people can control it. According to them, it gives them their abilities."
"We will have to get more details once they join The Citadel," Tevos comments, "Such power could be used for the good of The Citadel. You may resume contact with them and relay our approval for a twenty-five ship escort with up to one hundred on standby outside the system. You may negotiate up to thirty-five if necessary."
Benezia bows her head, "I will do what I must."
A week passes with the Sith continuing operations to bring Palaven into total submission and The Citadel preparing for the arrival of their envoy. The Citadel fleet remains on high alert and turian cruisers within its rank are reduced to less than half their prior number. As Lidanya counts down the time, she's alerted to a mass relay transit into the system.
"They're here."
Many look out in anticipation as thirty dagger shaped vessels emerge through the nebula's clouds. The gleaming sight of The Citadel does nothing to stall their advance as they come before the defense fleet. A message reaches the bridge of the Destiny Ascension, Lidanya puts it on.
"This is The Judgement of Marr, requesting flight path for our diplomatic shuttle and fighter escort," a Sith officer says from the transmission."
Lidanya nods to her comms officer and she transmits the data, "This is the Destiny Ascension, transmitting flight path now."
It takes a few moments, but a squad of fighters emerges from the flagship and take positions around the hangar. Another ship flies out from the shadows of the approaching Star Destroyers, a transport marked with white stripes on its gunmetal gray armor. The fighters form up around the shuttle as it flies passed the Destiny Ascension and the rest of the citadel fleet. As they approach their designated docking bay, the fighters break off, leaving the shuttle to its intended destination.
The shuttle lands in a designated hangar where a crowd of curious, if hesitant, residents of the Citadel look onward with C-Sec at the forefront to greet the Sith. The ship hisses as the ramp lowers and reveals a line of black clad troopers, masked Sith Warriors, and red armored Honor Guards with electro-pikes and tower shields. They prepare their blasters, ignite their lightsabers, and activate their electro-pikes as they march down the ramp and towards the line of security officers.
The Sith security team parts from the ramp as two individuals step between them, the Minister of Intelligence and Consul Anita Goyle. They stride up to the vanguard of their security team as the C-Sec officer in command, an asari, marches up to meet them.
"Welcome to the Citadel," she says, "I am Captain Deira Vul'din of Citadel Security or C-Sec, and it shall be my greatest honor to lead your escort to the Presidium."
Goyle gives her no acknowledgment as she looks through the crowd, "Such a commotion for our arrival."
The asari nods with a smile, "Once news reached the wider galaxy that a new space faring race was found, everyone wanted to know more. It is quite rare to witness such an event so many of them wanted a glimpse at you, an honor really."
"And you just allowed them to get this close in such an open environment?" the minister asks, "What is stopping a vengeful turian from slipping in to cause harm?"
"We will protect you throughout your stay here," she answers, her grin fading away, "The Executor has made certain that all measures of safety have been put into place."
"And your Executor, are they perhaps, a turian?" the minister probes.
"H-How did…"
"If this is such a momentous occasion, would it not be proper of the head of all Citadel Security be the one to escort us to our destination?" the minister asks, "So their absence would mean that either, one, they are ill, which would be unlikely considering by the way you've explained it they've played a large part in organizing defensive measures. Two, this is simply beneath them, but if this is so rare and, 'an honor,' as you put it, that is also unlikely. Or three, the most likely scenario, that their presence would complicate our interactions, and the most probable reason for that would be that they are turian. Couple that with the fact that there are no turians in your unit, and that seems to be the most assured reason."
The captain stands stunned, "Y-Yes, the Council believed that keeping armed turians away from your party would help alleviate your feelings of unease here."
"And yet they allowed one to oversee the protective measures taken for us in a public place?" Goyle jabs, "You will forgive my skepticism if I do not feel safe under the oversight of a species that we've spent the last few months fighting and whose home world we just sacked."
The minister whispers a few words to the trooper leader and the squad overtly flicks their blasters off of their stun setting. The asari sweats at the overt display and her C-Sec officers brace themselves.
"I am glad that The Order agreed to send some of their finest lords with us at least. The one true thing that we Sith can rely on is the power of The Force," Goyle says, "Now, if you would, your council is expecting us."
"Yes, however it was their wish that you could have a brief tour of the upper wards," Deira says, "They're planning on meeting with immediately afterwards."
Goyle lets out a sigh of annoyance while the minister says nothing, "Very well, the sooner we conclude this tour the sooner we can get on to something productive.
"Of course, ma'am," the captain says as she leads them towards the docking bay elevators.
As they pass by the curious crowd, those of a weaker constitution step away, their eyes fixated on the burning lightsabers carried by the Sith Lords. Though there are a few turians in the group, they do nothing and the Sith pass into the elevator unmolested. The Lords deactivate their sabers as they are escorted into the large glass cab. As it rises, the Sith get a decent look at the passing wards, growing from dayworker conditions to high class as they move up.
As they exit the elevator, they are met with an asari with a drone hovering just above her, "This is Citadel Broadcasting Network, could I get a few questions?"
Goyle puts on her best publicity smile and steps ahead of their guard, "Consul Anita Goyle, acting ambassador of the Sith Alliance, I can take a few questions."
The asari's smile broadens as she nods eagerly, "There are some here on the Citadel that see your military presence here as an act of aggressive coercion. What do you have to say to these individuals?"
Goyle nods, "Our military's purpose is to protect the citizens and leaders of the Sith Alliance from any and all possible threats. Their presence in this system is a necessary precaution until we have finalized an end to our war with the turians. Besides that, your fleets are here en mass as well, so any aggressive negotiations on our part would be met with your own."
The reporter nods, "Since the revelation of the circumstances behind your species' first contact was revealed, some are calling it the bloodiest that the Citadel has seen since the Rachni."
"Well, I can guarantee we didn't choose to have our ships fired upon and our colony invaded. I would ask any who holds issue with our circumstances take it up with the Turian Hierarchy," Goyle responds.
"There are rumors circulating that your civilization doesn't use mass effect technology. How does it work, and when you join the Citadel, how do you think your technology will integrate with ours?"
The minister steps in, "We cannot answer that question at this time. Until we have ensured an end to this war, we cannot make any statement as to the status of our technology. Once an end to conflicts has been reached, then we can move forward with negotiations that might lead to integration. Now, I apologize, but we will not be answering any further questions."
"Perhaps we can schedule a private interview or-" she protests before her eyes glass over and her gaze is drawn to the middle distance, "Of course, my apologies, good sir."
With that business concluded, they continue to the ward and up toward the Presidium. They pass the artificial lake, krogan memorial, and the various facilities that permeate the upper levels of The Citadel. The representatives spare nothing more than a passing glance at each landmark with overt boredom. As their tour comes to a close, they are brought before an elevator with a collection of small boxes. The Sith representatives take one look at the containers and move their hands to their weapons in an instant. The C-Sec officers raises their guns at them and the Honor Guards, Sith Lords, and troopers brandish theirs. After a few tense moments, both parties lower their weapons.
"My apologies but you must leave your weapons, and your troops will have to wait here as well," the captain says.
Goyle smirks, "I assume that this is a necessary precaution? Fine, even without weapons, Sith are never truly helpless."
She removes her blaster pistol and holster from her hip, turns away from the box, and hands it to one of the honor guards, "If they try to take it out of your sight, destroy it and them."
The Minister of Intelligence does the same, handing his pistol and two vibro-knives off to the trooper captain. After the Sith diplomatic team disarms, they board the elevator and are lift up to the council chambers. None of the onlookers notice a double-bladed lightsaber appearing on one of the Sith Warriors' belt.
The ride up is a slow one, "Do you think they'll be smart enough to know when they're beaten?" Goyle asks.
"Turians may be stubborn, but they can be broken. All one requires is the proper application of force," the minister replies, "I think our friend here would agree."
The elevator arrives not much longer and the Sith make their way to the boardwalk. Opposite them are three pedestals and around them on the higher floors are SPECTREs standing ready to intervene. The councilors take their positions as they introduce themselves.
"I am Councilor Tevos of the Asari Republics, welcome to the Citadel."
"I am Councilor Belis, of the Salarian Union, welcome to the Citadel."
"I am Councilor Sparatus of the Turian Hierarchy, welcome to the Citadel."
The Sith envoy steps up, "I am Consul Anita Goyle, I represent the Sith Alliance Parliament."
"My name is top secret, but I am the Minister of Sith Intelligence, I represent the Ministry of the Sith Alliance. You may simply refer to me as, Minister."
The councilors each make their species' equivalent of raising their brows at this. As Tevos opens her mouth to speak again, Goyle raises her hand, "Forgive us for the theatrics and deception but there is one more member of our envoy."
Just as the councilors begin to protest the room turns to ice. The SPECTREs reach for their weapons, but none draw them, yet. Between the Minister and Ambassador, the light and shadows twist and bend until, as if a veil of darkness is lifted, a man in a hooded black robe and ghastly mask emerges into existence. Darth Atrior removes his mask and hood as his molten gold eyes scan the room while the SPECTREs draw weapons at him. His face is pale and ashy with dark veins popping out around his eyes, his features are fairly chiseled, and short black hair adorns his head. He smirks as he attaches his mask to his belt and lifts his hands up in surrender.
"Honored councilors," he speaks in a slow and powerful tone, "I mean you no harm."
"What is the meaning of this?!" Sparatus demands.
"Councilor Sparatus, calm yourself," Tevos chastises him, "I am certain the Sith envoy has an explanation for this breach of agreement."
"You wound me, Madam Councilor," he places his hands over his heart, "I have come as the rest of the envoy has agreed to. I am here, representing my people's interests, and am as disarmed as possible. I simply desired an extra level of… personal security. I am not a threat," he says, sweeping his hands back to their upright position with a flourish.
"He is not a threat," Sparatus says as he gestures to the SPECTREs, "Stand down."
The SPECTREs do as they're told, and the Sith Lord lowers his hands, "And just who do you represent then?"
The man's smirk returns as he makes a bow, "I am Darth Atrior, Dark Lord of the Sith, member of the Dark Council and Sith High Command, and chosen representative of the Order of the Sith Lords.
The councilors tense as he introduces himself. The title, Dark Lord, bringing to mind the death of Admiral Yervem.
"A Dark Lord?" Belis inquires.
Atrior looks towards him for a moment and raises a hand to placate the salarian, "Ah yes, Darth Vafrem told me you are well aware of my old friend Tempestus. While he is quite quick to lash out, I assure you that patience is among my stronger suits. The is no need to be afraid of me."
He ends his statement with a twitch of his fingers.
"There is no need to be afraid of you," Belis replies, "Apologies, your contemporary left a very worrisome impression on us."
"Yes, he's always been a bit full of himself. Good for speeches, not so much for diplomacy. I assure you that no harm will come to any of you whilst I am here."
"That is a relief to hear, however, I'm afraid you have us at a disadvantage," Tevos speaks up, "You use the title of Lord in your address, yet you also have a parliament with their own leaders; is your civilization feudal or democratic?"
"I can offer an explanation, Madam Councilor," Atrior replies, "Our government is split into three branches. The Parliament is legislative and elected by the people, serving to create laws for them. The Ministry is appointed and in charge of internal affairs like the military, colonization efforts, and judiciary. The Order of the Sith Lords, of which I represent, is executive and acts as the spiritual leaders and martial protectors of our race. We are divided into the five pyramids of Assassins, Warriors, Sorcerers, Alchemy, and Arts."
"How were you able to get passed every security measure put into place, do you have personal stealth technology?" Belis asks.
The other councilors look upon the Dark Lord in anticipation as he holds one hand aloft and shakes his head and hand at them, "Not technology, but it is simply one of the many abilities The Force has granted to members of my order. I would love to discuss it with you further, however, that would take time. We have more pressing matters to attend to.".
Belis nods, "We have more pressing matters to attend to. He is correct."
Tevos nods with him, "We are here to resolve the matter of this conflict between the Turian Hierarchy and the Sith Alliance."
Goyle steps up, "I'm glad we all understand that councilors. On behalf of the Alliance High Command, we have come with the terms of surrender of the Turian Hierarchy to the Sith Alliance."
The Sith are met with befuddled leers from the three councilors. Before anyone else causes more damage to the tenuous situation, Tevos intercedes, "Ambassador, I'm afraid there's been some misunderstanding. We are here to bring a peaceful resolution to this conflict that benefits both sides and returns the galaxy to a more prosperous state for all."
"We are here to end the war, yes," the minister replies, "However, a surrender of all turian forces to our government would be a more appropriate solution."
"How so?" Belis asks.
"Our people have yet to lose a battle," Atrior begins, "The turians have had to give up world after world to our control as we move into their space, and countless hundreds of their ships drift the emptiness of space after meeting ours. Even their capitol and chief government executives are under our control. Agreeing to a ceasefire would only benefit one side in this war, the losing side."
All three of the Sith representatives make obvious leers at Sparatus and the minister picks up the conversation, "Further, did you believe we would simply relinquish our conquests? Our people fought, bled, and died for those worlds, to simply return them would trample upon their sacrifices."
Goyle adds to his words, "There is also the issue of properly punishing the race responsible for the unprovoked murder of our people at Shanxi. What guarantees do we have that they will pay for their actions? We've recovered their history from their conquered worlds, we've seen the things the Council has let them get away with over the centuries. We refuse to let our people's deaths simply become an, 'unfortunate incident,' in the history books."
"I think you've done quite a bit of punishing my people since you razed a turian colony world," Sparatus growls.
"And yet you still sent out a massive fleet of over fourteen hundred ships to take revenge on us," Atrior fires back as he waves his two fingers at the turian, "You wanted victory, not peace. Were you on the winning side in our stead, you would not be satisfied with just a ceasefire."
"We would not be satisfied with a ceasefire," Sparatus admits.
Atrior nods as he turns back to Tevos, befuddled by her contemporary's admission, "It may have started as a policing action to you, but to us, it was a hostile invasion made without a declaration of war. There was never an attempt at diplomacy from them until now. We both bet it all on this war, and the turians lost. Now they need to pay up, simple as that."
"We are not interested in peace, councilors, only victory," Goyle says, "What does a ceasefire benefit us?"
"The Citadel Council will not tolerate such impudence," Sparatus growls, "If you will not agree to a ceasefire, then we will call upon The Citadel to join the war against you!"
Tevos is about to interject, but the Dark Lord beats her to the rebuff as The Force trembles around him, "Is that so?"
A feeling sprouts from Tevos' mind, as well as everyone else's. An emotion long since banished to the deepest parts of her species' psyche. A feeling that holds no place in a civilized society, having long been abandoned since her people came to dominate Thessia thousands of years ago. She feels nothing but pure, primal fear of an apex predator as stares at Darth Atrior and fights the instinctual urge to flee. The Dark Side ripples about him, rooting deep into the minds of all the aliens before the Sith. Even Sparatus cannot keep his fear from showing just a little.
"Tell me then," Atrior begins, "Are you truly ready to leap to the turians' defense over nothing but their stubborn pride? If you are, let me causation you this; we will ruin you."
He sweeps his hand in front of him towards each of the councilors.
"They will ruin us," Belis says, barely holding his poise together, "We should not be too hasty, Sparatus. What say you Tevos?"
Atrior reigns in The Force enough for Tevos to think properly and challenges the Sith, "Wouldn't your people prefer peace to an escalation of bloodshed?"
"No, they wouldn't," Atrior says, "Peace is nothing but a fanciful ideal used to thinly justify atrocity. Our precursors, the Sith Empire, endured multiple genocides all in the name of upholding peace."
"But you believe that continuing this conflict is acceptable?" Tevos asks.
"We believe in overcoming our adversities, not making peace with them. Tell me, are the three council races at peace with one another?" Goyle inquires.
"Of course we are!" Sparatus interjects.
"Really?" Atrior shoots them a sinister grin, "So none of your governments seek any advantage over the other two? Is that not why the turians escalated this war with us, to have our advanced technology before the other council races? I would wager that even the three of you personally act against the collective for the sake of your own races to some degree. Is that not conflict, the antithesis of peace?"
"But is it not better to strive for the ideal, rather than wallow in cynicism," Tevos counters.
Atrior's grin turns amiable, "And what defines ultimate peace? I assume all of us have a different vision of what the finality of peace looks like. To the asari, it likely involves guiding all sentient life into harmony with all others, with themselves as the ones bringing the others along their enlightened path. Salarian peace would be solving the issues of the other races before they even emerge with but the slightest of touches from their own people's hands. The metaphorical desert of turian peace is everyone standing in line behind them, fearing to face the wrath of their guns. The Sith definition of ultimate peace is when all life forms are engaged in absolutely no conflict whatsoever; physical, mental, or spiritual. In other words…"
"Death," Belis finishes, "Extinction is your ultimate vision of peace."
Atrior nods, "'Peace is a lie, there is only Passion,' is the first line of the Sith Code. Peace is for the dead and gone. Peace leads to complacency from which there is no recovery. Peace has no place among the Sith. Better to embrace life's constant conflicts and become better for it, than to wallow away hope for something that will never truly come."
"If you are as dedicated to the end of hostilities between our races as you claim to be, you will surrender to us," the minister says.
"And if we do not?" Sparatus asks glaring at the group.
"Then we cannot insure the safety of your people or the integrity of your home world," Atrior replies as he raises his hand again towards Tevos, "Surrender is the only option you have."
"Surrender is the only o-option…" Tevos shakes her head, "I-I'm sorry, what?"
Atrior cuts in, "What I mean is that if you desire to keep order in the galaxy, the option best suited for the both of you is to convince your comrade to comply with our demands. The longer this war drags on, the more turian soldiers will die. The more soldiers that die, the less defended all your civilizations will become and while we can retreat to blockade the only relay into our space to recover our strength, the same cannot be said of the Citadel."
"Tell me, Councilor, do you know what your recovery rate for a turian soldier is?" the minister asks.
"That is none of your concern, Minister," Sparatus growls.
"All intelligence is my concern," he responds, "However, if you wish this to turn into a war of attrition between our people, you will lose quite sorely. Thanks to our use of bacta, our primary healing agent, and the difference in our weapon and armor strengths, our wounded infantrymen have a ninety-four percent recovery rate and a standard redeployment time of six days."
"What?!" Belis and Sparatus shout as Tevos sweats beside them.
"Not to mention our droid foundries are currently working at maximum capacity to produce legions of battle droids to throw at you and our shipyards are working overtime to build our warships at an unprecedented rate," Goyle adds, "Our newest dreadnaught, The Wisdom of Occulus, is also set to make her maiden voyage soon."
"How many more troops can you spare, Councilor?" Atrior asks, "Even with the reenlistment draft your remaining admirals and generals are proposing to you on your secret channels, your manpower is limited to warm bodies, ours is not."
Sparatus pales at Atrior's statement, "How did you…"
"Alliance citizens are willingly enlisting in droves to fight," Goyle comments, "Do you have the morale necessary for a prolonged conflict, especially after losing your home world, or even the ships for that matter. I'm willing to believe we have more proton torpedoes than you have vessels to hit."
Atrior closes his eyes as The Force stirs around him, "Not to mention how your refusal to surrender is afflicting the lives of so many beings across Citadel space. Sure, the upsurge in pirate attacks due to decreased patrols are only hitting border planets now, but how long until you've spread your forces so thin that they threaten inner Citadel space? It will be much more difficult to hide that from your fellow councilors."
Tevos shoots a gasp of betrayal as he shudders while Belis looks impressed at Atrior, "I have no…"
"How many thousand people have been killed or gone missing due to the gaps in your patrols was it again?" Atrior inquires, "Ten? Perhaps more that you've covered up. Not counting the patrol ships and their crews of course, those are much easier for your accomplices in the navy to alter. Now that the Terminus can see that you can be defeated, they will be emboldened. How could you disregard the safety of all those beings to fight us in a war you cannot win?"
"Don't try to build sympathy after all you've done to slaughter my people!" Sparatus roars.
"Calm yourself, Sparatus," Tevos intercedes, "We will speak of this later. And I would much appreciate your cooperation, Mister Atrior. Your antagonistic remarks are not helping your position here."
"Growing a bit restless are you, Madam Councilor," Atrior turns his senses upon her, "I can sympathize, what with the Council of Matriarchs already breathing down your neck for not figuring out that the turians were covering up a war beneath your noses sooner. I can only imagine the verbal lashings you'd receive if they found out about this. No wonder you're consolidating authority away from them and into your own power base. You've definitely earned my respect with that. Although, it is 'Lord' Atrior. Let us not forget our proper decorum."
Tevos' face turns several shades of blue lighter at his words and Belis loses his impressed expression for a worried one, "Oh, and I'd call off your STG agents trying to snatch any technology samples from our ships to avoid any embarrassing situations. Your stealth technology may fool scans, but The Force is more than enough to detect a whole crew in one confined location. I made all navel officers aware of your people's presence before I disembarked. Also, if you value the lives of your four agents planted within our C-Sec escort, I advise calling them off as well. Taking a Lord's lightsaber is grounds for execution in our culture and I doubt the ones who accompanied us will make an exception to that for your race. I could practically see the lust wafting off of them as we made our way to the Presidium."
Belis takes a breath and raises his omni-tool, "Abort all missions, we've been compromised."
The councilors and Sith all sit in silence, members of the former occasionally exchanging accusatory or disbelieving glances at one another as the latter give various forms of arrogant glares.
"The shadows belong to the Pyramid of Assassins," Atrior begins with a devious smirk, "The more you try to hide your secrets away from the galaxy, the more you will be in my power. The Force knows all, sees all, and guides those strong enough to control it. Even your very thoughts are unable to hide from one such as I. As far as I can see, you are far more divided than we."
"Well, it is certainly good to know that no matter the scale of government, political infighting never changes," Goyle comments.
"Perhaps you should be a bit more transparent with your intentions," the minister smirks, "You are the ones who would suffer from a prolonged conflict, are you not? We will not be signing a ceasefire, not today and not in the future. The only terms we will accept is the surrender of the Turian Hierarchy."
Atrior steps ahead of his companions and looks every one of the councilors in the eye, each looking away from his molten gold gaze. His smirk fades into a stoic and somber expression as he sighs.
"Despite what you may think of us, we do not seek total war with The Citadel. What we seek is freedom for our people and to protect our way of life. We were hasty in our retaliation efforts, I'll admit. One of our first proposed actions once we learned of an impending attack on our colony was to destroy the relay that connected to Shanxi to prevent the turians from reaching us again," he lies, "Even now, cutting ourselves off from the relay network is an option that hasn't quite left the table."
Panic fills Tevos' mind, such a drastic action is unacceptable, "Hold on, that would destroy everything in the system and beyond. On top of that, the relays are irreplaceable; each one destroyed is a part of the galaxy rendered lost to civilization."
"For you, perhaps," the minister says, "To us, however, it is naught but a tedious effort to chart the space. We've already made a path to Palaven, we will find our way across the galaxy one way or another."
"I understand that this is much to take into consideration," Atrior begins, "While we will not budge on the surrender of the Hierarchy, we are open to negotiations of the terms and conditions of the treaty. Since we admittedly sprung this on you unprepared, I would allow some time for you to collect yourselves."
The Council is outplayed, and Tevos knows it, "Perhaps we can take a recess from this discussion and allow our heads to cool while we discuss how to proceed. One of our SPECTREs will show you to a room where you may wait. If you require anything, it can be brought to you."
Atrior smirks as he takes his mask from his waist and replaces it on his head. Once done, he bows without another word and departs, Goyle and the minister following. The asari SPECTRE leads them out of the main chamber and through the offices until they arrive at the room. A large window overlooks the wards of The Citadel and there are several couches and tables set up for many body types. The agent takes her leave and the Sith are left to their lonesome.
The minister pulls out a device that hums over for a bit before placing it in the center of the room, "The miniature jammer is working, we can speak freely."
"I'd say that went well," the consul says as she takes a seat on one of the many couches.
The minister paces back and forth in the more open area dismissing her sentiment, "Yes, yes, but we must prepare for what comes next.
Atrior stands still as a board facing the window, making no reactions to his companions.
"I think we may want to press more on our military prowess and the possibility of us finding allies elsewhere," Goyle comments, "Perhaps we could bring up the quarians by name. it has been sufficiently long enough that they might believe that we came across them since our invasion of Palaven."
"Perhaps, they seem terrified at the prospect of not being able to control us," the minister says, "Should we suggest that we could form an alliance independent of theirs, they might give in easier. What say you, Milord?"
Atrior does nothing to indicate a response but steps closer to the window, his hand outstretched.
"Milord?" Goyle asks.
Atrior runs the tips of his gloved fingers across the glass as he faces the outside. The Force flows through him and he reaches into its depths. The thoughts and feelings of the aliens aboard the station fly through the Dark Lord's mind at rapid pace. He reaches further into The Force, into The Citadel, into the past…
He jolts away from the glass as darkness and shadows swirl about him, "Milord!"
Atrior looks towards Goyle and the minister, his eyes glowing beneath his mask. After a few breaths, he dismisses his powers and strides to the couch to sit, resting the chin of his mask upon his interlocking fingers.
"Milord," the minister begins as he sits, "What did you see?"
Atrior raises his head and locks his mask's forward eyes with the minister's, his tone breathy and muted, "Reapers… And a blinding Light."
As the Sith discuss their next move in the negotiations, the councilors sulk into their own conference room, defeated looks upon their faces.
"Can someone explain to me what in the Spirits' names happened in there?" Sparatus demands, "How did this race of upstarts manage to so completely put us on the defensive?"
"Obviously they had more intel on us than we prepared for and our strategy of relying on their inexperience backfired on us," Belis answers.
"Yes, but I want to know how that happened," Sparatus growls.
"It is truly disconcerting that this Darth Atrior was so knowledgeable about us. Not just our races, but us personally. He knew secrets that we even kept hidden from each other and used them to make us look divided," Tevos says.
"And it worked," Belis adds, "I suspect that he was using the strange powers of the sith, their, 'Force,' abilities."
"It's unnatural!" Sparatus growls, "Now on top of lightning, supernatural reflexes, and telekinesis; they can read minds now."
"And become completely undetectable by any of our means," Belis adds, "I wonder if these abilities can be taught to a degree?"
"Something to ponder about later," Tevos says, "For now we must decide what to do."
"Obviously surrender is out of the question," Sparatus grumbles.
"However, they obviously won't back down now that they have a measure on us," Belis says.
Tevos remains silent for a moment, "Actually… we may need to acquiesce their demands."
Silence dominates the air until Sparatus lets out a low growl, "Come again?"
Tevos sighs, "Sparatus, we have lost this battle. They hold all the cards and they know how to leverage them. They have the turian home world and a number of your worlds as conquered territory, they have technology that can allow them to traverse the stars without the need for mass relays, and they have powers that we can only speculate against. We must face the music; the Hierarchy cannot win against the sith."
"Then we need to muster all our strength together and destroy them. Pavalen can be rebuilt but-" Sparatus begins.
"It's not as simple as you seem to think it is," Tevos interrupts.
"It's very simple, we wipe these savages out entirely!" Sparatus counters.
"And then? What happens when the Terminus Systems attack us as we're engaged in what may likely be the bloodiest war our people have ever seen. Things have changed, before we had the recognition, the prestige of being the steadfast leaders of the galaxy. Now one of our pillars has cracked against this new rising power. Wether we like it or not, the Sith have become necessary to maintaining our hold on the galaxy."
Sparatus stares at Tevos, fury building in his expression, "What do you mean they've become necessary?"
Tevos nods, "The Sith Alliance has sacked the turian home world. Your people are regarded as the strongest military in the galaxy and yet for all intents and purposes, you've lost the war against the sith. Now they appear to be the strongest force in the galaxy. If left independent, they will grow unchecked, possibly gather other races and organizations under their banner, and possibly supply weapons and technology to our enemies. Meanwhile, the Terminus will smell blood and come swarming if we do nothing to publicly bolster ourselves. Having the Sith join the Citadel will make the Terminus think twice before trying something, especially since they border Terminus space."
"So, we're doomed if we fight and possibly doomed if we do nothing?" Sparatus asks.
"It appears to be the case," Belis says, "At least with them under our control, we can leash them into our will. For a time at least."
"Do you know the hell I'm going to have to pay for allowing this? Do you know how many turians will be up in arms about surrendering to these savages?"
"I can make an estimate, and I can also tell you that the alternatives will be no better," Belis replies, "Even if we can beat them, they seem more than willing to destroy worlds and even mass relays if pushed hard enough. Not even the krogan would do something like that, mostly because they need the relays as much as we do."
"We cannot beat them militarily in any meaningful way," Tevos says, "But we can limit them to the laws and customs of The Citadel. We will grant them this victory, but we will use it to yolk them to the greater good."
"And once we do, their technology will be ours and we can level the playing field," Belis says, "We still have resources many times theirs, we need to use that to our advantage in the negotiations."
"Also," Tevos begins, "I suggest that you stop calling them savages. They will hopefully be joining us, and it is improper for a councilor to refer to another race as such."
Since I've gotten a lot of messages and reviews saying as such, I'll be cutting down on replies for now.
Reviews:
The Avenging Titan: Yeah she found out right away that Sith Lords are a different breed of challenging.
Tom2011: 'Winning at peace,' that sounds exactly like what a Sith might say.
Kite15663: All sides are finding out how strong the Sith actually are.
Spartanzerg75: I can see the advantages of having a power armor unit on the battlefield.
Star Destroyer: 1. Mostly with apprehension, most of them have no idea about The Force, they think the storm is the result of some weapon. 2. It bit her a bit now and will bite everyone down the line.
jonathanslye30: I'm not planning on any giant lasers, well no bigger than the current Silencers, but it would only really be a once shot and done weapon against a Reaper.
heartfanlives: they're not surrendering, that is for certain.
felipindelrio: She really didn't have any idea what she was in for meeting with a Dark Lord.
"Coment9: They don't have any cloning operations even remotely the side of Kamino, so it wouldn't amount to much even in twenty years. They'll have to produce a new generation of soldiers the old fashioned way.
anubis1650: While I am planning on him being a warrior like his father, John's attention in his studies of The Force will be impacted by his father's death.
Stormzy: If you mean Jason Shepard, no, he is dead.
Invictus602: hey can make holocrons, but Jason was relatively young, had a kid with one more on the way, and was training an apprentice, he didn't feel the need to and had his hands a bit too full to focus on making one.
Cereberusx: The Force works in mysterious ways. ALso yes, but the technological assimilation won't be seamless.
Sith Overlord: Next chapter will answer that question.
Wardemer: The conflict with the batarians will be similar, but the Reaper War will be far less one-sided.
CAV: don't pity Benezia, she is not a good person in this fic. I appreciate your thanks.
KillTheXenos: While Vafrem didn't scare her, he certainly proved she's got nothing on a Dark Lord. The asari are a race so complacent yet so paradoxically paranoid of losing their influence.
Cartiesnes: Fair enough about the mass accelerators, my idea was that having a weapon that is only really effective at extreme ranges is counterituitve to the Sith's naval combat doctrine. Though I suppose slapping one onto a dedicated carrier wouldn't be half a bad idea. With the whole battle of Ranoch, they explicitly said that the quarians put a Thanix cannon, those massive turrets, on every civilian ship in the Migrant Fleet, even going so far as to admit flat out that it essentially made them dreadnaughts and violated the Treaty of Ferexian, that's where I get the number of thousands, though in hindsight, not all of them would be firing all at once at the Reaper Destroyer. How the exchange in ship weapons will go will be in the next chapter but the quick answer is; yes, but actually, no. I wasn't planning on it, but I might incorperate it into another ship deisgn.
sniperbro1998: Not in this galaxy, unfortunately.
spartanzerg: I thought about it, the droids here were made purely to make up the difference in the number of foot soldiers that the turians had over the Sith. Intelligence of the units was not taken into account, that could change, though after seeing a reaper control the Geth, the Alliance may even scale back on droids.
Amaraldane: They definitely have the threat of blowing up relay, even if they won't actually do it. When I say the asari and Sith are opposites, I mean in how they govern. Asari are complacent, Sith are ambitious. Asari are watch and observe, Sith go and do. Asari seek peace, Sith seek power.
Apollo Inkunen: The presence of the Reapers has definitely left a mark on the Citadel. Most groups who study The FOrce, in this galaxy, have no idea what it is they're studying, only that it is a phenomenon and really aren't applying it in any meaningful way so they would become easy accolytes for the Sith.
Barly: Having to work with aliens in close proximity for a while will definitly give Shepard some Malgus-like traits.
Eltari: I felt like I dropped enough red flags along the way so, i don't think it's weird that you figured it out.
MichaelBishopone: I am having smilar ideas and they will be in developement.
Perseus: Oh, there will definitely be something of that nature.
Alright, lots of talking done here. I enjoy writing out the banter between the different sides. I chose Darth Atrior instead of Darth Vafrem because when you want to make a good impression, you send an artist, but if you want to win, you send an assassin, and his ability to read an manipulate minds doesn't hurt. We're coming to the end of Episode one, next chapter should be the last. I'll finish up the negotiations and we can finally see the aftermath, along with some more companion character reactions. Sorry that it took so long, but the length got a bit out of hand and i couldn't justify splitting it up so it took a while to get it all pieced together.
Leave a review if you feel so inclined and see y'all next time.