The deep void of the cosmic beyond was vast, its nebulous colours infringing upon the backdrop of the stars flickering lights. Obscuring their beauty. The inkling flashes of noetic storms, their vast power a kaleidoscope of unseen colours, and unknown energies. With a burst of exotic particles, their atoms swaying and bursting with energy that was known to only a few that lived within. A screech in the void, its audible echo reverberating within the very star that was now in front of the creature-the thing- that was before it. its organic tendrils flailing, their long thick pustules pulsing with neural power. Paling wounds litter its chitten. Grotesque protrusions echoing around its battered form. It was not alone, swarms of miniscule mosculoids skitter along its flesh, mending wounds, and birthing horrific creatures.

The titanous giant swam through the void, psionic power pushing it forth, its gravitic nodes pulsing with manipulative energy. Its swarm-its children- followed, wafting its surface. It was drawn forward, the system it now inhabited seemed to shiver, the very essence of the vast void quaking in horror. The calm immaterium that was there but also not. Was an enigma to the hive. It was long used to the very presence of the warp, although in the grand scale of the vast universe, it was but a pause of thought. Not anything that would disturb the hive's goals- its objectives. Hunger burst forth, done with laundering behind musings of irrelevance. It was a beast that was no stranger to the swarm. It's been like this since the very beginning of their existence. Nothing new that was worth mentioning.

It scoured the system, its multitude of opticals twitching with each vast movement. They saw, and they moved. It was life. It was food. Before it, hanging in the vastness of space, was a planet it hungered for. It was untouched, it was swaying in the void, orbiting its star. Restless, they shivered, not out of fear. But of glee.

Nodes pushed them ever forward, it would take a few days before they reached it, but that does not matter, already their Narvhals are pushing their limits with the warping of gravity to push them ever forward. Its ground forces are readying themselves, anticipating their meal that was to be before them. It did not consider the dangers of such a manoeuvre with their injuries beating their form. It was but an afterthought. The world before them was their main concern. It was a chocolate cake to them, to others, play-doh.

Within hours. Its ripper swarms were already being launched from its languished position. Their chittonous forms bursting forth from its now open pustules. Wafting through the void. It will take but a few more days for itself to reach the planet, but when it does, Food will be served.

…

It breached the atmosphere, the familiar burning of its exoskeleton a comfortable sensation. It regurgitated a bland fluid when it crashed upon the barren surface that was now lifeless. The rocky plateau mulching beneath its weight. It swayed within. Jerking languishing exofoms into action. Slurping up its belching liquids, before rushing off to help their starving brethren.

Before it, it watched its children, its swarm, devour the very life from the planet. Vegetation reinvigorating its poor faculties. It was renewed. But the hunger was still there. Perfusing its skin with an itch it could not avoid, nor did it want to. The very etching upon its chittan was a reminder of their purpose. To devour and to hunger. The deletion of all life if they must.

Sapients were but a hindrance in their purpose. They were a mutation of life, of their food. It should expect resistance, the sapients of its originator galaxy were ridden with parasites. It could not just enjoy its meal in peace. They were delayed. They were crushed. They were pushed back… Annoyance filled its musings then. Heated, and adorned with a pressure that was new. It was, however, irrelevant. It was to push forth, this galaxy waits for no-one, not even its gluttonous jaws.

However before it could rush forth, and venture deeper within this vast new cosmos, this planet no longer nourishing its vast hunger. One of its scouts that was venturing beyond the outreaches of the system, scanning beyond for more habitable orbitals, or in their case, life. It noticed a metallic structure, its interior filled with cancerous molecules. Small isotopes with a mass less than 0. It was intriguing, but alas. It was but a hindrance to its goals. It was an indicator of sapient life. Of annoyances.

It could have continued on with its plan, to venture beyond and search for more glorious habitals. But, it had experience with sapients. They, however irritating they may be, rested upon worlds that were glorious in their abundance with life. The sentients, while somewhat palatable, possessed minimal biomass. They were diminutive, awkward, and poorly designed. How absurd, those bipedal creatures.

It could be intriguing to venture, and explore this.. Structural object, it mused. Its hunger could not wait for long, and if they were to mayhaps meet one of these sapients who built these structures, well, they would be received with great delight within its confines as they were consumed.

…

2167 Gregorian calendar

2448 CFC Calendar

"Am i intruding" a somber voice echoed beyond the metal doors of his abode. The etchings of his past achievements linger atop his trophies adorning his shelves.. The varying inscribes a reminder of his failure. Of his cowardice. Ohh, if Janice can see him now.

Shaking his head, soft wet droplets dripping to the floorings beneath him. He stood, pushing his rotten, decaying chair aloft. And strode to the doors. Pushing a sequence of buttons atop the incumbent tablet by the doors frame. He let the person he feared he would never see again inside. Her soft pale skin, a reminder of his past. Her lips thin in a frown, a slap to the face. Her guarded posture a reminder of her resilience. To focused upon his late wife's features, he did not realise the little bundle of joy by her side, laying a firm grip upon his wifes saggy jeans. Eyes wide and shoulders hunched, Little cheeks red from the rain laying waste to the streets outside. Hair dangling from her sides. Long and wet.

He would have laughed at the irony, his daughter, so small when compared to him, but yet, so sure by her moms side. He felt the same when he was younger. So sure of himself if only Janice was speaking. If she was by his side. Sighing to himself, he smiled and gestured for them to come inside. Taking their coats and placing them atop his jacket holder. Tidying up the mess they left of their shoes in their wake. He waited for them to sit. Patiently, he eyes Janice as she helps poor little Mariane atop her claimed seating and then proceeds to sit. Not wanting to leave them waiting, he took a seat opposite of Janice, unwilling to let it be awkward if he sat by her side.

"So" he questioned, eyes drooping downwards for a sec, before returning to roaming his late wife's visage. "H-how are you?" he asked, fingers fidgeting with a pencil that lay nearby.

"Good" She replied, hollow. Playing with little Mariane with the little noodle straws that she so adored.

"Good, that's good," He grunted out.

"W-what have you been doing, i-i know i haven't bee-"

"Dont, Rogan." She pleaded. "I don't want to hear your excuses, just tell me what you called me for. Then I'll be gone."

"Okay" he said, suddenly saddened. "I-im leaving, Janice. To earth.. T-they need me, now more than ever. Something to do with a new Military program, they want me to train the youngins."

She just nodded, her eyes never leaving Mariane. "Is that all?" She replied, voice stilted, and eyes narrowing.

"Ye-yes"

"Then why have I come all the way here? There is no reason you couldn't have said all of this on the phone." she glared at him for a sec, before returning to playing with Mariane. Her eyes hardened by years of isolation. The eyes of a warrior if there ever was one. He knew she did not enjoy his presence before her, his.. Everything. He betrayed her, he betrayed mariance. In the worst ways possible, he supposes. The times have changed, he knows this, he realized it the moment he left her alone to accomplish a foolhardy dream. She warned him of his choice, that it could mean losing her, and their daughter to the marchings of time, and the rearing of neglect.

And, as he sat here, wallowing in self pity, and full of hidden fear behind his quivering facade, he knew it was true. He missed Mariane's first steps, her first words, her first.. Everything.. And it hurts.. It hurts so much..

He only nodded at her then, in the times before, eyes so full of hope and passion. But, as Hope was want to do. It killed him, it destroyed his dream of ever coming to fruition. It delayed his chances of ever wallowing in guilt as he pushed ever onwards, obsessed with a passion that was now impossible. She had to have known the reason. It couldn't have been hidden from her for long? She has an intuition no hardy man can beat, for christ sake! It was one of the reasons he married her, her will was absolute, her ire a petal of rose swaying in the wind. Gentle, but firm. He knew then, as well as now. That she was his first love, as well as his last.

"Janice.. Speak to me.. Please.." he pleaded. She has not spoken for a long while, her eyes were hollow. He did not know what to do. He .. He is not all knowing as he liked to think of himself. Especially when it came to his homelife. He has only recently come into contact with her again. Heart aching with past regrets. He did not want her to leave, like he left her.

He wanted to tell her, to yell at her how much he loved her. But, his lips faltered as she rose.

She stood, gently taking Mariane's hands, smiling her beautiful smile. Oh, how he wished that smile was aimed at him, her eyes once again filled with the love and adoration of a loving wife.. Not,, Not this…. This hollowness that he is now coming to despise.

She stormed away, and she walked out the door, without saying goodbye.

His heart ached..

…

The citadel was a place of tranquillity and quiet. A place where cultures mixed and fused, where sentients fussed and cheered. It was a place where individuals enjoyed their lives, and while not all of the citadel can be considered 'safe.' That is what c-sec is for. The security and safety of the diplomatic and cultural heart of citadel space. The place where all of the associates and citadel member species reside in some capacity, even humanity, the newest species to contact the citadel, inhabits this profound station. Their culture and pride fused with the rest of the members and species that call the citadel home.

Nerrick knew this, he had met a human a time before his departure from khar'shan. But that is not what he is here at the citadel for. He is here as a prodigious diplomat for the hegemony. His prestige followed him here, of course. He was an aide to the hegemon himself, so obviously the council would not dare oppose his arrival. No matter their prejudice. He was used to their degradation of his culture and his people's ways. He knew that they wished for the hegemony to 'reform', their political power plays having no place, nor power within the inner hegemony. They may be able to sway some far outer colonies, but he is sure, no matter how they may try, the inner sphere of the hegemony has not been breached, nor will it..

He is prideful, he knows this, the hegemon has had in the past to, reluctantly he might add, punish him for his overt political plays that may or may not have gotten the hegemony in far too much trouble for what they were trying to achieve was worth. He understood the reasoning, but he did not understand the method. He had actually been punished. Him, the hegemon's brightest aide. Actually punished.? It was an anathema to the higher officials of the hegemony. They were always told they would never bow to a foreign power's demands. Even one as strong as the council.

It was.. Insulting. But he did not digress, nor fume. He accepted it as was wanted of the aides of the hegemon. The hegemon's orders were absolute. There was no questioning, nor judgment of his orders. They were only to obey.

Stalking the periphery of the citadel chambers. He fussed over his holdings, and his dress. Cleaning and tidying himself up. He would not want to have the council mock him more than they already have. They are ruthless, he would give them that. They preach tolerance, but yet they spout hideous objections to his people's ways? It was hypocrisy at its finest. They had to have known this, they were not the council if they werent. The salarians, he knew, knew what they were doing, manipulating their fellow council members as they were. He could see it all the way from Khar'shan. The oddities when they approached the council. The almost unnoticeable incursions from salarian ships within their space. It all pointed to a more sinister background exchange behind the facade of council unity.

He doesn't know if their musings were true. But if they were. The hegemon wants him to exploit such a fragile union. The possibilities of getting the council to disagree, if even for a moment, were too much of an opportunity to not exploit.

Tsking to himself as he fidgeted with the last remaining dressing he was to be propped in. He calmed himself, taking deep, hollow breaths. soothing his nerves. His eyes sharpened as he strode forth. His legs clicking and clacking on the polished steel beneath his boots. His robe billowed as he walked. Carelessly, he pushed open the council chamber doors. The ding of the speakers above announcing his unexpected arrival.

He strutted up the concrete stairs, shoulders propped back, and eyes narrowed in neutral apathy. Lips pinched in a frown. Standing upon the ovation hover table, he let himself be lifted, ignoring the subtle stares of annoyance that battered his form. The councilors were too busy with themselves to even bother with addressing him, seeing it prompt to introduce himself in a manner that brought attention. He coughed, loudly, and persistently. Their lids twitched as they were interrupted. Councillor Tevos turned, her eyes serene, dressing a copy of the famous councillor robes used by the now dead, athame. Their supposedly worshiped god.

The salarian councilor followed. Councilor Krada was a male of little renown, his predecessor was sure to be more efficient at his job than the pile of manipulated and validation seeking quack that was before them now. His robes were quaint, worse than the slaves back on Khar'shan, eyes wide in the disgusting manner that salarian eyes always were.. Tsk, they mock us but they wallow in their self proclaimed wealth. Bahh.

And lastly, the Turian councillor, Spartacus. New to the field and wielding charms that are sure to fade as time wears on. He is prideful, boastful and full of invigorating youth. His mandibles quiver by his side in weary cheerfulness, mixed with the iridescent feeling of youth and pride. Nerrick envies Spartacus. Youthful in ways Nerrick always wished he could return to. The joys of being young was something almost every race enjoyed. The desire for peace and comfort almost a universal trait shared by all, well, almost all.

How they shared that comfort, however, was something else entirely. The desire for something does not always mean the want to part with that said something. And this, he could commemorate the council on. They share their power. He could give them that. But they do not share their authority. The difference is miniscule, but there is a difference.

"Nerrick, welcome, I almost didn't notice you.." Tevos smiled, the subtle jab not hidden from his perceptive ears. "Yea, well, i came unannounced after all." he replied, tilting his head up in a gesture of defiance and condescension. His eyes narrowed in perceptive indifference. Allowing himself to fall into the careful facade of the political side of the hegemony.

"We have no need for your prattle, Nerrick." Krada spouted. His voice stilted with apathy and the condescending scientific tone that most salarians take after quite well.. He bristled at the insult, his pride demanded he take a subtle jab back. But he held himself. Not wanting to embarrass the hegemony further. Their previous display was enough of a sham that he curled up in embarrassment just from remembering it. There was no need to further incriminate themselves. After all, the humans do that enough with their wanton expansionism.

Taking a calming breath to sooth his erratic nerves. He replied. "I am not here to discuss the hegemonies' claim to the transerve, that you all seem to ignore, we are here- I am here, to discuss disturbing news that our.." he paused, searching for the right words. The hegemon wouldn't want the council to know that they have been skirting the councils' Relay ban laws for centuries now would he? He continued as was previous. "That our ... Scout fleets have reported. Their findings are the most disturbing.."

.

Krada narrowed his eyes at that, obviously not amused by his reply. Tevos only smiled and looked serene. But, for some reason he couldn't help but think something sinister lurked beneath that smile. And Spartacus? Spartacus only raised a perceived eyebrow. Not really getting the past undertones of their conversation. The nuance ws felt by Nerrick, that was for sure.

"Worlds that were previously confirmed as habitable, have turned up desolate, their atmosphere devoid of life, of vegetation and habitable requirements for sapient life to thrive. We are the most concerned, as the worlds falling to whatever this may be, are in the transverse–Yes, you could put hands down now-No, this is not the only reason we brought this up. It is a serious concern of course, but the reason we brought this before this benevolent council was that we have received signals, signals that are a prerequisite to sapient life. This may be a first contact scenario."

All hell broke loose...