The soft chime of Katie's alarm pierced the quiet of her bedroom. She blinked groggily, and reached for her omni-tool to silence the annoying sound. The moment she did, a flood of notifications caught her attention. Her heart sank when she saw the headlines scrolling across the screen.
'BREAKING: Classified Documents Leaked—Peace Talks in Jeopardy.'
She sat up, fully awake now, her fingers flying over the haptic interface as she pulled up news feeds and official statements. It was bad.
Katie's device pinged with a message from her father. It was terse, clearly sent in haste.
She stared at the text, thinking of the cultural exchange festival planned for today. Art exhibits were already being set up, musicians from the two species had arrived for joint performances. Would they even proceed with the event now? She returned to the feed.
One news anchor, an asari with a grave expression, summarized the situation: "The leaked files have ignited a firestorm of controversy. Critics on both sides are accusing their leaders of selling out their species' interests. There are calls for immediate suspension of the peace talks and resignation of key negotiators."
Katie's stomach churned. She flipped through the news—it wasn't getting any better. The leaks seemed to touch on every sensitive aspect of the human-turian negotiations, threatening to unravel all the progress they had made.
"...classified information detailing the orbital defense networks of Palaven," a somber asari anchor was saying. "Military experts are calling this the most significant breach of strategic data security in decades."
She changed the channel, only to be confronted with a heated debate between a human and turian pundits.
"These trade agreements would effectively turn human colonies into turian resource farms!" the human shouted, his face red with anger. "It's economic colonialism, plain and simple!"
The turian retorted, mandibles flaring, "And what about the apparent concessions on our side? The proposed restrictions on turian military presence in shared systems leave us vulnerable to—"
A news ticker at the bottom of the screen caught Katie's eye:
'Plans for joint human-turian fleet revealed. Krogan Warlords Sound Alarms Over Possible Suppression Tactics.'
'Volus Trade Groups in Turmoil as Human-Turian Alliance Threatens Military Contracts and Economic Balance.'
'Turian Isolationists Condemn Joint Fleet with Humanity—Leaked Documents Suggest Major Internal Division within Hierarchy.'
She paused on a channel airing a live feed from a protest outside the Turian embassy. The crowd was divided into two distinct groups—one human, one turian—their angry chants overlapping.
"No reparations without representation!"
"Shanxi—never forget, never forgive!"
Their voices faded as her attention was drawn to another alert:
"Confidential memo leaked: Turian Primarch allegedly called for 'cultural assimilation' of human colonies in disputed territories. Human rights groups outraged."
As she processed this latest bombshell, Katie realized the full scope of the crisis. These leaks weren't just about military secrets or economic deals. They cut to the heart of the cultural tensions between humans and turians, dredging up painful histories and uncertain futures.
She rubbed her eyes in utter frustration, mind reeling from the onslaught of information. She thought of her father and Primarch Vakarian, imagining the intense discussions they must be having with the Council. Would they be able to salvage the situation? Or will it turn to yet another round of finger-pointing? Had the leak dealt a fatal blow to the peace process?
The knock of her bedroom door barely registered in Katie's mind, her attention wholly absorbed by the barrage of reports. It was only when a knock got louder that she realized someone had entered the residence.
"Kathreen," Alenko's voice was soft but determined.
"Yes," she answered absentmindedly, still glued to the vid screen.
The door slid open, revealing the major. "Kathreen, I—" he began, then stopped abruptly, his eyes widening.
She looked up, confused by his sudden silence. It was only then that she became acutely aware of her state of undress—she was sitting in her bed wearing nothing more than a soft lace bralette and matching briefs.
"Oh god," she mumbled, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as she hastily pulled at the sheets to cover herself. "Major, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize—"
Alenko cleared his throat, averting his gaze. "No, I should apologize. I should have waited for you to answer the door properly."
"It's fine, really," Katie said, grabbing a robe from a nearby armchair and wrapping it around herself. "I was just... distracted by all the news."
Kaidan nodded, still looking away, his expression turning serious. "That's why I'm here, actually. The admiral sent me to brief you on the situation and escort you to the event."
"What's happening out there?" she asked, her embarrassment fading. "These reports... it's bad, isn't it?"
He sighed. "It's pretty chaotic. The leaks... they've touched on some really sensitive issues. People are angry, scared."
"What about the turians?" Katie pressed. "How are they reacting?"
Alenko ventured to turn and look at her.
"They're just as shocked as we are," he said. "Primarch Vakarian is furious—not at us, but at whoever's behind this. He and the admiral are determined to find the guilty party."
Katie nodded, relieved to hear that at least the leadership was standing together. She wondered if that would be enough, though. Unlike the turian Primarch—who wielded significant authority within the Hierarchy—her father could not act unilaterally. As an Alliance representative, he answered to the Parliament, which could recall him if they determined the peace talks were no longer viable.
"And the festival? Is it still happening with all this going on?"
The cultural exchange was suddenly a ridiculous idea.
"That's the other reason I'm here," Kaidan said. "The admiral and the Primarch think it's important to show a united front. They believe it will send the right message if we proceed as planned. The tone of the event will be shifted, of course. There will be a lot of reporters, for sure, making it more a press conference than anything else..."
"Of course." She glanced down at herself. "I should... probably get ready."
Kaidan's eyes followed hers, then snapped back up to her face with a slight twitch of his facial muscles. "Right, yes. I'll, uh, wait in the living room. Take your time. We have about an hour."
As the door closed behind him, Katie let out a heavy sigh and pressed her palms against her eyes. The chaos of the morning's revelations was enough to deal with, but Kaidan's presence added another layer of complexity she wasn't ready to face.
Ever since that damn dinner, the sight of Alenko, his features carefully schooled into professional neutrality, was almost unbearable. She caught glimpses of hope and confusion behind his composed exterior, making her guilt sharper. She knew she owed him an explanation, but how could she explain something she herself couldn't fully understand? With the peace talks hanging by a thread, she told herself that personal matters had to wait. But she knew this was just delaying the inevitable. When things settled down, she would have to face him—and the truth… whatever that might be.
She dressed quickly and made her way downstairs, where Kaidan waited with quiet patience. As she descended, he offered her a soft smile—a familiar warmth and comfort she always felt in his presence. For a fleeting moment, she let herself believe that smile again. Maybe, once this was all over—once the truce was secured and they left the Citadel for good—distance would dull the effect Garrus had on her. Maybe, away from the turian's proximity and the turmoil it stirred, she could find her way back to something simpler. Maybe she could try…
The sudden beep of her omni-tool scattered her thoughts. She glanced at it, expecting another news alert, but the message that appeared made her frown in confusion.
Kaidan must have noticed her extended silence, because he stepped closer. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes..." She looked up at him, puzzled by the unexpected content. "Do you know anything about the Consort?"
The skycar glided through the Citadel's traffic lanes with a soft hum. James, never one for silence, regaled Garrus with a story about his latest sparring match at the gym, but Garrus found himself unable to focus on his friend's words.
Instead, his mind kept drifting back to the cultural event which had quickly become a stressful press conference earlier that day.
He remembered Katie, standing slightly apart from the rest of the human delegation. Her eyes had darted between the sea of reporters and her father, who shared the podium with the Primarch, both leaders fielding a barrage of questions about the leaked documents.
As the conference had dragged on, Garrus had found his gaze continually drawn to her. He had seen the worry in her violet eyes, the tension in her posture—slight tremor in her hands, the way she bit her lower lip when particularly difficult questions were posed—and had felt an overwhelming urge to go to her, to shield her from the chaos. Yet, he was rooted to his spot next to the turian delegates, separated from her by more than just physical distance. The divide between their species had never felt more evident than in that moment on that public arena.
Garrus felt torn—consumed by his personal drama yet guilty for indulging in it when Vega's uncovered conspiracy loomed over them. The rational part of him knew that the potential threat to the peace talks should take precedence. But the other part that had been aching for Katie since their separation couldn't be silenced so easily. Spirits, something had been seriously wrong with him ever since Lindor—these reactions, these overwhelming urges he couldn't explain—and whatever it was, it only grew more intense every day he was around her, leaving him questioning his own mind.
He pushed thoughts of her aside as they neared their destination, descending into the lower Wards—so starkly different from the gleaming upper levels of the Citadel. Right now, there were more pressing matters to handle.
"Third message, third location," Garrus muttered, recalling the chain of cryptic instructions they'd received. First a cafe in the Presidium, then a marketplace in the Zakera Ward, and finally this place. "She's thorough with her precautions."
Shady figures lingered near storefronts and alleyways. A pair of batarians muttered to each other as they passed, while a turian dockworker leaned against a railing, casting a hostile look at Garrus and his human company. The bar they were looking for was just ahead.
"Can't blame her," James said quietly. "Meeting two strangers about sensitive information? I'd be paranoid too."
Inside, the bar had the worn-in feel of a place where locals came to unwind after long shifts. Most patrons kept to their own business, a few glancing up but quickly returning to their drinks or discussions. In the far corner, their quarian contact sat alone, her environmental suit's patterns distinct even in the dim lighting.
As they approached Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, her glowing eyes darted nervously behind the mask and her hand inched towards what Garrus suspected was a concealed weapon.
"Easy," James said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We're friends of a friend, remember?"
The quarian studied them for a moment, then gestured to the empty chairs at her table. "Sit. Slowly."
Garrus and James exchanged glances before complying.
"Interesting choice of location," Garrus commented, his mandibles twitching slightly as he took in the dingy surroundings.
"The kind of place where people mind their own business," Tali replied. Her fingers drummed briefly on the table's scratched surface. "The friend of a friend mentioned something about а tech job."
"We have information that suggests certain parties might be working against the peace talks between turians and humans," Garrus said, keeping his voice low, carefully choosing his words, not sure how much to reveal just yet.
"The Citadel is full of parties working against something," Tali replied dryly. "You'll need to be more specific."
James leaned forward. "Look, we know you monitor communications. Your people are good at that. Really good. Must've picked up something interesting lately."
The quarian's luminous eyes narrowed, "And why would I share anything I might or might not have heard?"
"You agreed to meet," Garrus pointed out. "All those security measures, all the decoy locations suggest you have something worth discussing."
"Maybe I do. Or maybe I just wanted to verify you are who you claim to be."
"You've done that now," James said. "Tell us what you've got."
Her head tilted slightly. "You first."
Garrus hesitated only for a second.
"We have a name," he said. "The Syndicate."
Tali's body language shifted immediately. "That's... not a name you throw around lightly," she said. "They have fingers in every dirty deal from here to Omega."
James leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "We think they're trying to sabotage the peace talks. Probably behind the recent leaks too."
There was a long pause as Tali seemed to weigh her options. Finally, she spoke, "I... may have intercepted some chatter that supports that theory." She paused, studying them through her mask. "But this goes deeper than you think."
"How deep?" Garrus pressed.
"Let's just say it's not the kind of information that comes without consequences," the quarian answered. "The kind that gets people killed."
"We're already looking into one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the galaxy," James pointed out. "How much worse can it get?"
She let out a short, humorless laugh. "You'd be surprised. If I share this with you... there's no going back. Are you sure you want to know?"
"We're sure," Garrus said firmly.
The quarian glanced around again before continuing. "Have you ever wondered why this conflict between your two peoples has dragged on for so long? Why every attempt at peace seems to get derailed?"
"You're saying they've been actively working against peace?" James asked incredulously.
"Not them specifically", Tali corrected. "The Batarian Hegemony has been pulling strings for years. They benefit from the chaos, use it as a smokescreen for their activities in the Terminus Systems."
"That's a vague claim," Garrus said. The Hegemony was infamous for its isolationist policies and tacit approval of slavery and piracy. They thrived on any military conflict, everyone knew that. Garrus more than most—he had fought them for years before the war. "Do you have anything concrete?"
"What do you know about the Eletania incident?" the quarian suddenly asked.
Garrus tensed. "The miscommunication that led to the destruction of a Citadel cruiser? It was a tragic accident..."
"Was it?" Tali challenged. "Or was it a carefully orchestrated plan to escalate tensions?"
The turian and the human exchanged a puzzeld look while she continued. "The Hegemony Intelligence had a plan. Their agents hacked into communications between the Citadel cruiser and human vessels in the Eletania space, altering messages. The batarians knew that the cruiser's destruction would damage human-Council relations, prove that the Alliance was not worth negotiating with. The all-out war would distract the Council and the major powers from batarian activities in the Terminus Systems. But the Hegemony made an error."
"The altered message was intercepted by the turian frigate," Garrus spoke, reeling from the revelation.
Tali nodded. "The falsified message indicated the Citadel cruiser was a hostile vessel, prompting them to open fire."
"That's some bad-shit manipulation," James mused.
Garrus shook his head, trying to process the information. "How do you know all this?"
"I have my sources," she said cryptically. "And I'm very good at what I do."
"Wait," Vega said with confusion. "What's the connection between the Eletania incident and the Syndicate? How does it all tie together?"
Tali shifted in her seat as she considered her words carefully. "There's a batarian named Darnok Faal," she began slowly. "He's a high-ranking member of the Hegemony Intelligence, but he also has a seat at the Syndicate's table."
James whistled low. "Talk about wearing two hats."
"More like using one hat to hide the other," the quarian corrected. "The Hegemony uses the Syndicate as a front for their more... unsavory operations. It gives them plausible deniability while still allowing them to pursue their agenda."
Garrus felt a cold anger settling in his gut. "So they've been manipulating us, playing us against each other, all this time?"
Tali nodded solemnly. "And they're not done. The peace talks represent a significant threat to their operations. They'll do whatever it takes to derail them."
A heavy silence fell over the group as they grappled with the implications of this information. Garrus thought of the lives lost, the pain and suffering caused by a conflict that had been, at least in part, engineered by an outside force.
Finally, he looked up at the quarian with intense stare. "We need your help."
Tali's body language betrayed her hesitation. "I don't know... getting involved in something like this, it's dangerous. I have my own problems to worry about."
"I understand your reservations, but this isn't just about our species anymore. Your people are affected too."
"Let's not exaggerate," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "The Flotilla has managed to stay neutral in this conflict."
"For now," Garrus pressed. "But your ships cross through both human and turian space regularly. Every military checkpoint is already treating civilian vessels with suspicion. Your people need to dock for supplies, for repairs, for water filtration..."
"There are other routes," Tali countered, but her voice carried a hint of uncertainty.
"Through disputed territories?" James interjected. "Where both fleets are on high alert? And shipping companies are already refusing contracts for those regions—too risky, they say. How many traders will still be willing to meet the Flotilla for supply transfers?"
"And what about your salvage operations?" Garrus added. "The ones your ships depend on? Most of the rich salvage zones are in the Alliance space. With military patrols increasing, how long before every quarian ship is seen as a potential security risk?"
She didn't answer, and James tried a different approach, "Plus, you've got to admit, the challenge is intriguing. Hacking Syndicate systems, outsmarting the Hegemony Intelligence... that's got to appeal to your inner engineer, right?"
Her eyes seemed to light up at the mention of the technical aspects, but she still hesitated. "It's not just about the challenge. The risk..."
"We can offer you protection," Garrus assured her. "And resources. You'd have access to tech and data you've only dreamed of."
"And more importantly," James added, "you'd be making a real difference. Helping to forge peace instead of letting others prolong war for their own benefit."
Tali was silent for a long moment. Garrus could almost see the gears turning in her mind as she weighed the risks against the potential benefits.
Finally, she spoke. "If I agree to help you, I have conditions."
He nodded eagerly. "Name them."
"First, I want full access to any data we uncover. My people need to know what's really going on out here."
"Done," Garrus agreed.
"Second, we're partners in this. I'm not some subordinate you can order around."
James grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Sparks."
The quarian ignored the nickname, focusing on Garrus. "And finally, when this is all over, I want your help. There are some things back on the Flotilla that could use a Spectre's influence."
Garrus blinked in surprise. "I'm not a Spectre..."
"Not yet," Tali said cryptically.
Garrus exchanged another puzzled look with James before turning back to her. "Alright, it's a deal. Welcome aboard."
They left the bar half an hour later and headed back to the carpark. As James rambled on about the new team member and the intriguing face behind the mask, Garrus's thoughts darkened with every step. This wasn't just about smoothing over diplomatic tensions any more—they were dealing with a powerful entity backed by the Hegemony itself. That meant everyone involved in the peace talks was a potential target. And Spirits help him,shewas right in the middle of all this.
Would he be able to protect her? The conspiracy they were uncovering stretched across the galaxy, involving powerful syndicates and criminal governments. This web of intrigue made slavers on Lindor seem almost straightforward in comparison. Back there, on the rat-infested planet, the threat had been clear and tangible—a group of batarian thugs he could fight head-on.
Garrus's mandibles flared with frustration. He longed for the simplicity of a firefight, where he could stand between Katie and those threatening her, where his combat skills could make a difference. But against this, he felt powerless. How do you shield someone from a danger that could come from any direction, at any time, in forms you might not even recognize until it's too late?