The Cosmic Age

Long after the defeat of Caesar's Legion and the liberation of New Vegas, the Courier and Lone Wanderer make use of the Theta Technology to bring humanity back from the edge of extinction and take to the stars. When they reach too far they discover that the galaxy is not always receptive to the adventurous.

I do not own Fallout or Mass Effect

Also, for anybody who is sick to death of stories where the Council is incompetent/evil/out of character/childish/any sort of combination of those things...this is for you.

Also, I will be taking SOME liberties with material from both Mass Effect and Fallout.

Now, this Arc, the First Contact Arc, will focus on the initial diplomatic meetings between the Council and the Alliance and their reactions to one another as they learn more about each other's histories. I don't intend to make it some sort of one sided debate where the Council gets talked down for every single perceivable action in the past and then expects the Alliance to join up with them like nothing happened. In fact they will expect the Alliance to outright refuse the idea of joining the Council as a client race and attempt to be more diplomatic.

And rather than jumping to Mass Effect 1 after this, I intend to explore the early adult years of our main hero: John Shepard. I have already decided to make him a Vanguard in this and to provide him with plenty of adventures that will allow me to squeeze in features from all three of the different origins from the games as well as the three career paths.

Anywho, with that out of the way let's get to the part you really came here for.

Xxx

Chapter Seventeen: First Contact, The Conquering Heroes

Shanxi System, Shanxi, high orbit

ASV Einstein, Medical Bay

March 17th, 2353

Owen stood in the hallway outside of the Einstein's infirmary, peering in through the open door at the group gathered around one of the beds at the far end of the room. He'd taken the opportunity to shave and prepare himself for this moment, determined to appear as a proper Captain for the first time since the 314 Skirmish. He was back in his old cleanly pressed and smooth Captain's uniform and had gotten plentiful bed rest, sleeping for almost a whole day the moment he'd hit the cot issued to him, removing any indication of bloodshot or fatigued eyes.

The events leading up to this seemed to be an entire life time ago now, like a fading nightmare that he'd woken from. But now he had a new challenge before him and found himself rooted in place until Hannah stopped next to him and nudged him with one elbow.

"Well? What are you waiting for," She said encouragingly. "Go on in."

Sucking in a breath, Owen nodded and stepped through the door with his head held high. As if his arrival had somehow been broadcasted the gathered individuals turned and straightened up, save for the one sitting upright in bed.

Paladin Grawk, freshly recovered from his injuries grinned and slammed one fist into his chest as he gave Owen the equivalent of a Super Mutant salute. Edward stepped out from behind the Night Kin's huge form and quickly stood at attention while Nathan, who was sitting in a wheelchair offered a salute of his own.

Victoria looked up as Owen made it halfway to her bed and smiled at the sight of her uncle, an expression that Owen found to be infectious as a grin spread across his face...

Until he saw the final member of the gathering stand up and look back at him with a face that matched his own.

"Owen!" Alexander Mason, the first born of Logan and Sarah Mason and the Lion of Sol stepped around the others, revealing that instead of power armour he wore formal Brotherhood garments.

Immediately Nathan, Edward, Grawk and Victoria's faced paled as the smile fell from Owen's face.

"Dad?" Victoria reached out and tried to stop Alex.

"Mr Mason, wait!" Edward blurted out...

But it was too late.

THWACK!

THUD!

Alex landed on his back, blood spilling from his nose as his head spun. Standing over the fallen Inquisitor, Owen flexed his bloodied hand and then pointed down at his older brother.

"You smarmy piece of shit!" He bellowed. "You have some god damn nerve showing up here after the week of pure, unadulterated Hell I've had to go through to keep your little girl breathing! I've been shot at, beaten, stabbed, blown up and most of all I've been forced to make cheesy leadership speeches and take after dad!"

Owen reached down and gripped Alex by the collar of his jacket. "And you just...smile and greet me like nothing happened?!" He shouted, causing Alex to cringe.

"Owen I-"

"SHUT! UP!"

Alex clamped his mouth shut.

"Now...before I make you curse our parents for not keeping it in their pants one more time," Owen hissed, "How...many...other...kids?"

"What?"

"How many others do you have?!" Owen demanded, shaking Alex. "Because I swear to Death Claw Christ himself if you have been hiding more kids from me just so they can pop up in the middle of a god damn warzone I will wring your fucking neck right now so you can explain yourself to mom and dad in person! NOW ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

"I only have one child!" Alex answered, trying to placate his younger and usually more level headed sibling.

"He's telling the truth!" Victoria added while Nathan and Edward moved to try and separate the two brothers. "I'm an only child!"

Releasing his grip on Alex, Owen shoved Nathan and Edward back and stood up. He continued to bore into Alex's head with his glare, his fists clenching so tightly that he almost bled from his palms before allowing his body to relax.

"Alex...I don't know if I can ever forgive this." Owen said calmly, "You lied to me for over twenty years, you lied to Hannah, you kept Victoria secret from her own family. I know that what you did was with good reason but that doesn't change the fact that my own brother didn't trust me with the knowledge that he had a daughter with Joanna, who was like a sister to me in every way that mattered."

He pointed at Victoria. "She's more than just Jo's daughter or some last remaining piece of her Alex, she's my god damn niece and I missed an entire lifetime with her. Now after this you're going to introduce Victoria to her cousin John and then we are going to stop with all of this 'secrets among family' crap." Owen now pointed down at Alex. "And if you ever lie to me again you will be dead to me and then you'll actually be six feet under. Do you understand me?"

Fear gave way to resignation as Alex nodded. "I understand, Owen, and I'm sorry." He replied, "When Manifest began to target both of our families Jo and I...we just couldn't stomach the idea of our daughter being put through such an ordeal. We hoped to keep her hidden until she was grown up, but when Jo died all that fear came back to me." He sat up. "I made the choice to keep Vic hidden even when I should have known that it wouldn't have mattered in the long run, that all I'd do is make things worse for us all. I lied to you, to everyone close to us, and I cost my daughter so much even when I was trying to protect her."

Alex shut his eyes and tilted his head down in shame. "I promise you: no more secrets, no more lies." He vowed.

The infirmary was dead silent. Victoria looked at her father with concern evident in her eyes, and when she made to climb out of bed Nathan set a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head and eased her back down so her head was resting against her pillow.

Alex felt something lightly tap against his head three times as if someone were knocking on it a door. He looked up as Owen withdrew his fist and extended it as an open hand.

"Good." Owen declared. "Now get up and stop sounding sappy, I do enough of that these days for the both of us and I don't want Victoria catching it."

He pulled Alex to his feet and straightened out his older brother's coat.

"I'm taking your word that you'll never be so foolish as to repeat this, and while your word will be suspect from now on I am giving you a fair chance because in spite of how much you've stabbed me and Hannah in the back with this you did it for the right reasons. This is your chance to make us trust you again, Alex." Owen explained himself. "Don't disappoint me or I'll knock your jaw off."

Patting Alex on the arm, Owen stepped past him, walked towards the shell shocked group surrounding Victoria's bed and pulled up a chair.

"So," Owen smiled. "Feeling better, kiddo?"

Xxx

Sol System, Luna

Aldrin Command Bunker

March 16th, 2353

"They almost caused the destruction of the entire Shanxi colony! Why are we even debating on this?!"

President Irons rubbed the bridge of his nose and fought down a resurgent headache as one of the more vocal members of the Alliance Admiralty voiced her opinion on the Alliance Security Council's latest topic: what to do with the tens of thousands of Turian prisoners of war now stranded on Shanxi.

"These aliens marched into Alliance space with the intent of subjugating or annihilating us! The reports corroborate this as well as data taken from Turian databases!" Rear Admiral Sanders held up a data pad while strolling through the circular heart of the council chamber. "They moved a force of over a hundred warships into sovereign Alliance territory and dared to set foot on Alliance soil with intent to conquer. One of their own almost caused the destruction of New Taiyuan! We cannot allow this to be forgiven!"

From among the many spectators one stood up and called out. "And what would you have us do, Admiral Sanders? The evidence provided by Captain Mason supports the claim that the actions of General Arterius were not condoned or sponsored by the Turian Hierarchy or this Citadel Council."

"That just makes it all the more condemning!" Sanders countered. "This is a rogue fleet that forced its way into our territory, a rogue army that has the blood of thousands of good men and women on their hands! We need to make an example to this galactic community to ensure that such future attacks are averted! Let them see what becomes of pirates and renegades who would violate our borders!"

Irons lowered his hand and sighed. "Admiral, while I applaud your enthusiasm for making a statement to this council, what you propose is the wrong kind of statement."

Sanders hurried over to Irons' desk. "Mr President-" He stopped when Irons raised one hand.

"I agree that this act cannot go unpunished, but as of the moment we first encountered the Turian Hierarchy we were placed in a precarious position that has no room for sudden and impulsive action the likes of which you propose." Irons said calmly, speaking clearly so all could understand him. "In your proposal you have listed the execution of Turian flag officers and field commanders as one potential course of action. As another you go as far as to propose we bombard the Turian encampment. All of your recommendations are accompanied by a strategy to seal our borders and implement an increase in fleet production and the positioning of gun emplacements near each mass relay. Had the destruction of New Taiyuan come to pass I admit that I would be in a state to consider these avenues, but the fact of the matter is that that very atrocity was averted and the Turian army and fleet which now lay at our mercy are victim of the ambition and madness of one rogue officer."

Rising from his desk, Irons stepped down and past Sanders.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Security Council, we simply cannot afford to burn the bridge which the turians have crossed." He stated, "We are aware that General Desolas Arterius was denied further reinforcements from his superiors, and have the proof of that sitting right in front of us. This fact indicates that the wider galactic community may not be supportive of what the General undertook and could view us in a sympathetic light should we come forward."

Several delegates exchanged low murmurs amongst themselves, but Irons was able to deduce that his words had not failed to reach them. Once passion as tempered by reason and logic it became much easier for cooler heads to prevail in situations like this; outrage and moral indignation, while understandable in the present circumstances, had no place in the world of politics. Irons had run the Alliance like a business even when many criticized him for seeming apathetic or robotic, once even going as far as to accuse him of being a Synthetic infiltrator, but the results of his arbitration between the rebuilt nations of Earth and its few colonies could not be argued against. Now he had to apply this to a much greater interstellar level to ensure that some fool didn't get the Alliance on the bad side of more than one alien species.

"However if we commit the wholesale slaughter of prisoners who have surrendered to us we show ourselves as violent and merciless to those who should be afforded mercy, and if these Turians were humans or any other species in the Alliance we would be heeding the New Vegas Accords in deciding how to deal with them." Irons continued, straightening his tie and smoothing out his jacket without missing a beat or stopping in the circular pattern he walked around the room in. "If we were to satisfy ourselves with the blood of these soldiers the Alliance would be cast as a brutal and blood thirsty collective that would sooner seek senseless death over negotiation. In walking this path we would be alienating ourselves from a wider galaxy and leaving ourselves cut off from potential allies and resources that could assist in hastening the reconstruction of our society."

"With that in mind, I have come to the following decision." Irons turned and faced Sanders as he said this, as though personally addressing the Admiral's earlier statements. "The Turian prisoners of war on Shanxi shall not be harmed so long as they maintain their rhythm of behaviour for the duration of their stay. This shall apply to all, regardless of rank or involvement in the events at Shanxi. We shall confine them to their present location and maintain a vigilant watch to ensure their continued cooperation, and in the meantime we shall seek avenues of diplomacy."

Sanders appeared ready to protest, but a quick look around the room made it obvious that the majority of the council found President Irons' idea favorable. Quickly reigning in his outrage, the Admiral approached Irons with a softer tone and restrained demeanour.

"Mr President...you are within your rights to command this course, but I am within my own to protest it." Sanders said, carefully checking his choice of words. "The data on this Citadel Council is clear, particularly in their distribution of power. We are, as you and everyone else here know, a fragmented and reduced civilization that can barely hold a candle to any one of their races. We have less than half a billion citizens spread across several star systems and a fleet of less than five hundred operational warships against a civilization spanning thousands of star systems and numbering in the trillions. If we approach them they will envelop us, suppress us, weaken us and consume us through their own laws."

Sanders quickly tapped into his data pad.

"Genetic engineering regulations, the criminalization of creating or simply existing as an artificial intelligence, carefully monitored naval limitations on high tonnage warships to ensure that the Council remains dominant." He listed. "These are just the tip of the ice berg, sir. This Council maintains control of their client races and ensures that the three dominant species in their loose coalition remain the strongest in the known galaxy at the cost of other nations. They will suffocate us with the very thing we have been seeking ever since the bombs first dropped back on Earth: order."

Another of the Security Council, this one a member of the Brotherhood of Steel's 1st Flotilla, took this opportunity to join the conversation. "Admiral Sanders may bear a point, Mr President, and I have my own concerns to voice. These Citadel species, while by no means primitive or underdeveloped by our standards are suffering from a pattern of what I would describe as 'lack of innovation'. The history logs found throughout non-classified Turian files and first contact packages show each member of the Council and its associates only achieving spaceflight by way of full integration of Mass Effect technology salvaged from the ruins of the extinct Protheans. They have had their own advancements of course, but where we have made use of the Mass Effect and the Mass Relays as convenient additions to our own developments these factions have made it into a crutch which they rely on."

The Brotherhood representative opened a holographic interface and used it to summon the image of Turian navigation charts spread out across the whole Galaxy.

"At first glance this Citadel Council may appear to be spread over a vast majority of the Milky Way Galaxy thanks to their use of the Mass Relays," He explained, "However, in reality they control less than one percent of the galaxy, and mainly systems that are within a hundred light years of active mass relays. And rather than exploring this network to its fullest they have pushed exploration and innovation completely to the back of their minds, more concerned with maintaining their status quo except in instances of intense conflict forcing their hand. Due to this the relay network within the region known as the Terminus Systems is more thoroughly mapped on account of the Council lacking any authority there, and even then there are potentially tens of thousands of habitable systems unaccounted for in that region alone."

"All valid concerns, I cannot deny that the Council does have a less than perfect mandate by our standards." Irons agreed, "And I have no intention of crippling the Alliance by making it subservient to any outside force. But the alternative to diplomacy is either isolation...or war against not one, but over half a dozen different nations, each with a military just as large or many times the size of our own and a technological distance that will become much smaller thanks to whatever they've salvaged from their initial skirmish at 314."

Irons gestured to the map hovering over where he stood.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is something we could not hope to win in a thousand year." Irons shrugged, "We obviously contradict many of the Citadel Council's laws, and the Council itself possesses a checkered past which must be addressed in the foreseeable future, but their history has never had them meet anything quite like us. We embody everything they view as a threat or disturbance, and so we shall dispel that image with a display of mercy, restraint and most of all initiative."

Sitting back down at his raised desk, Irons folded his hands in front of him. "The only matter that is left to address is who to send to represent us, and getting them to the Citadel before the Council comes looking for their lost fleet."

"I was wondering when you'd get to that. You really do like to pontificate far too much, Greg."

A new image replaced that of the map projected in the heart of the Security Council's meeting room. It formed into the silhouette of a man clad in a rough leather jacket over battered and worn armour with the emblem of the Brotherhood of Steel on the chest plate. The man himself was not exactly the sort who drew the eyes of young women with his scarred and wrinkled complexion, messy dark hair and bear, glowing cybernetic right eye and overall rough appearance that most would label as 'ugly'...if they were brave enough to say it to this man's face.

"If you're all done worrying, I'll take my very brief time here to offer the most useful input for Gregory's plan." High Inquisitor Jason Maxson propped a freshly lit cigar between his teeth...many of which were metal. "And don't you worry, the Brotherhood of Steel won't be bowing its head to any fancy Council. If they have things to say about how we operate, I'll gladly deal with it myself."

Gregory raised one hand to his face and shook his head at the behaviour of one of the most revered and respected men in the Systems Alliance...one who was not quite as eloquent or inspirational as his father Arthur had been. Jason always had a way of coming off as the 'hyper violence loving, kill crazy neanderthal' sort to those who were not familiar with the real man behind that mug. It had been like that since Jason's childhood when he was bigger than all the other kids, tougher, but more of a big goofy moron than anything else. These days he put on a mask for the benefit of others, appearing as the cold, blunt and somewhat frightening High Inquisitor of the Brotherhood of Steel when Gregory's own children often rode around on Jason's shoulders at holiday gatherings.

After he lowered his hand again Gregory addressed the assembly. "I believe that we can leave this matter in the capable hands of High Inquisitor Maxson, who I trust shall follow my recommendation and avoid incurring hostilities."

Jason bared his metal teeth in a grin that had once frightened a whole group of raiders into stopping mid charge. "No promises, Greg, but I'll see what I can do."

Xxx

Shanxi System, Shanxi, high orbit

ASV Einstein, mess area

March 18th, 2353

"Ah the wonders of near limitless Stim Gel," Nathan sighed as he satdown, "I feel like I didn't get consistently rag dolled all week."

"Don't strain yourself, your muscles and bones are still recovering and Stim Gel can only do so much." Edward implored as the marine sergeant sat down across from him. "After all you've been through it's a miracle that you didn't lose any limbs along the way."

Nathan reclined in his seat and raised his feet up, propping his legs up on the table with his arms folded behind his head, "A fact which I intend to celebrate every day."

Their time spent on the Einstein had allowed them to recover from the numerous 'adventures' which they had taken part in. The day after witnessing Owen punch and lecture his older brother they had held a quiet vigil for Jane Parker, standing around her coffin held in the cargo bay with a fresh bottle of wine donated by Hannah. Other guests, including Colonel Williams, Sentinel Noland and Elder Thompson had attended to speak a few kind words. Jane's involvement in the mission aboard the Chairman was already widely known, as was her status as the first, last and only casualty. Many other Brotherhood and Alliance personnel would take a moment in private to hold a toast to her, and the High Inquisitor himself had seen fit to posthumously promote her as well as every other member of the Brotherhood who fell on Shanxi.

But there were some things would stick with the survivor's of Owen's team. Nathan had been required to undergo a cybernetic implantation due damage at the base of his skull and along his spinal cord from one or several impacts he suffered within the Fawkes before blacking out, leaving him with an eerie and uncomfortable feeling whenever he stretched or bent down for anything. Laying down in bed had also become a challenge, not because of any pain but because it made it easier to feel parts of the implants which were just large enough to be felt through his skin, forcing him to lay down on his front.

Even just sitting in a normal chair became a painful reminder of how close to being brain dead he had been.

Victoria had come out a little better than he had, which was surprising until he considered the fact that the blade which she'd been stabbed with had cauterized the wound as fast as it had made it. Blood loss had been minimal, damage to her organs and bones had been easily repaired by Stim Gel and before he knew it Victoria had been the one pushing Nathan's wheel chair around until he was able to walk again. The actual surgery had been quick, but he still had to spend almost a full day off his feet before the doctors cleared him for walking on his own.

"You might not have lost any limbs but you can now officially call yourself a cyborg."

Victoria was standing in the doorway, leaning on one side of the frame with her arms crossed.

Nathan lowered his feet and straightened up in his chair. "Just like Janie, only I can't rip open solid steel doors with my bare hands."

"But if those cybernetics are up to spec you can carry three times the usual weight load without your power armour." Victoria pointed out, joining them at the table. "How long are they keeping you off active duty?"

"Three months, minimum." Nathan answered, "No sparring, target practice or real exercise for the first thirty days. They want to make sure these implants won't rip my spine in half by mistake."

"The odds of a malfunction happening are one in over fourteen thousand." Edward wave one hand dismissively. "And the odds of it being that fatal are even steeper. They can't keep an eye on you at all times, so if you want to do sit ups in the barracks all day long don't think anybody will care."

Victoria gave the Knight a look of surprise. "You're encouraging him to flip off the very nice doctors who held very sharp tools close to his spine and might be doing so again in the future?" She turned her head towards Nathan. "By all means go ahead, I'm sure they won't care if you come in because you pulled something and broke the priceless spinal support implant they gave you for free."

"Ah haha..." Nathan smiled sheepishly. "I think I'll just take it easy, thanks Ed."

A victorious smirk crossed Vic's face. "That's what I thought."

"So...change of topic," Edward began to tap his fingers against the table. "Any news on Zero?"

Victoria shook her head. "Not since they bundled her off into some shuttle bound for Earth. Wouldn't even let her stay to say goodbye."

"Better not find her in pieces one day or somebody up on high is going to be getting the same thing I just got." Nathan growled, pointing one thumb over his shoulder and down the back of his shirt where several metallic implants visibly stuck out through his flesh, embedded into his spine. "She might've kicked my ass when we met but she also fought right alongside us after we freed her from Manifest."

"And she'd gladly kick our asses again if somebody reprograms her to do so." Victoria replied, "But I know what you mean and I'm right next to you on that, she's one of us."

"And she's probably halfway back to Sol by now." Edward held up his Pip-Boy and opened a holo-window, showing footage of Zero being led away by Alliance marines...with an inhibitor collar to suppress her combat systems and allow them to blow her head off at a moment's notice. "Bastards treated her like a rabid animal."

"Until we know that she doesn't have hidden Manifest protocols in her designed to make her turn on us, she may as well be." Victoria replied, "I don't like it anymore than you do but the precautions are necessary."

"Yeah, necessity...I hate that word." Edward muttered before the door opened up and all three of them shot to their feet at the sight of Owen and Hannah.

"At ease," Owen said before any of them could begin to raise their hands to salute. "You're all wanted in the CIC. A few very important people need to speak with you, so come along."

Exchanging confused glances, they followed out of the mess area without a word.

Xxx

ASV Einstein, CIC

"Clear the room!"

With three words Hannah had the entire room emptied out. Only her, Owen, Nathan, Edward and Victoria remained within ten seconds as crewmen abandoned their consoles and filed out. The lights then dimmed as an emitter built into the ceiling projected several figures which became clear after a moment...

"Don't stand on station for me." President Gregory Irons said as Nathan, Edward and Victoria tensed up. "Jason would never permit, and I always did like to follow his example when I can."

High Inquisitor Jason Maxson huffed and blew a long puff of smoke from his mouth before planting a large cigar between his metal teeth. "Let's skip that speech you had congratulating them while we're at it, we're pressed for time as is."

"Very well." Irons agreed. "Inquisitor Grey...or rather, Mason, Sergeant Campbell, Knight Rice and Captain Mason. We've brought you here for two highly critical matters which I regret to say requires your presence."

"We're at your disposal, Mr President." Logan nodded, his hands folded behind his back. "I assume that this relates to our mission on board the Turian dreadnaught and the Chairman station."

"Quite astute, Captain." Admiral Kastanie Drescher nodded, "More precisely it concerns Sergeant Campbell's encounter with General Desolas Arterius aboard your former vessel, the Fawkes, as well as your initial confrontation with the Turian fleet at Relay 314."

Jason gestured impatiently with one hand, moving it in a circular motion. "We want to have our story straight about what happened for later, and you can consider this your debriefing."

"Understood." Owen nodded, "What information do you require?"

"We require a detailed account of the initial skirmish, your raid into the bunker vault seized by Manifest forces and your actions against the Turian occupation force, and in that order." Irons answered, "Now let me be clear: you all are some god damned heroes for what you've done, especially Inquisitor Parker, may she rest in peace. This isn't some effort by us to whitewash events and scapegoat you for anything, we just want to have our story straight, as Jason stated."

"If it was that I'd be cracking some heads over here already." Jason growled. "The second issue we brought you in to address is the real elephant in the room: what to do now that we know there's a whole galaxy out there that might know about us."

Nathan caught on to what they meant. "The Citadel Council from the stolen Turian intel?"

"The very same, Sergeant." Drescher confirmed, "High Command has been debating heavily for the last two days about it, but the decision was already made by President Irons. We intend to open up diplomatic channels with this Council and sue for peace with the Turian Hierarchy before they can send another invasion fleet."

"And to that end, we need to be able to explain our version of events clearly." Irons said, sitting down at an invisible desk. "And also..."

"You need eye witnesses to everything that happened." Edward said in a moment of realization. "You want us to go with the delegation?"

Nathan groaned. "Oh joy..."

"Mr President, sir." Victoria stepped forward. "Would it really be appropriate for us to take part in this? I mean...we have no experience in negotiating with foreign powers."

"You aren't here for your negotiation skills, Vic." Jason grunted, dropping any hint of formality. "You just need to tell the facts to us, to a camera, to anybody who asks you no matter how many times you're asked to repeat it. We're planning to use Desolas' little doomsday stunt to get some leverage on this so called Council, and we need to be able to prove that he was every bit the whack job you know he was. I don't particularly care how this Council views us, but Greg here thinks it'd be beneficial if we embarrass them by airing their dirty laundry and showing that one of their star Generals almost wiped out a whole city full of non-combatants and instigated an invasion of a foreign nation."

"Do we know that this Council would even care?" Edward asked.

"You read the Codex, Ed." Nathan held up his Pip-Boy, which now possessed a copy of the Codex taken from the Turian frigate Wraith's Wing. "The Council's about maintaining what passes for peace between their species."

"But there are certain factors which could change that." Irons cautioned them. "That is why we need you to be part of the delegation. We must appear to the galaxy as the wounded victims of an atrocity, we must appear to forgive the Turians so as to appeal to the Council's views...and we must appear to be much stronger than we really are until the Council and the Hierarchy are officially at peace with the Systems Alliance."

"So you need us to go to tell our heroic tale about how we defeated the mighty Desolas Arterius and stopped his evil plan so the Council sees us as the good guys." Owen crossed his arms. "The very concept of shore leave becomes mere fantasy every time I see either of you two."

"We aren't making this decision lightly, Owen." Jason removed his cigar and blew another puff of smoke. "Personally I wouldn't mind just scrapping the whole Turian fleet while recording the whole thing and then dragging it up to this Council's Citadel as one big ball of scrap metal with a note taped to it saying 'stay out of our space, assholes'...of course I'd probably return all the prisoners alive. There'd be nothing to gain by executing them except lots of hate and headaches."

Greg directed a look at Jason to silence him. "Back to the matter at hand, please. This invasion will only be the beginning unless we contact the Council and broker a ceasefire. We are able to communicate adequately now thanks to the Turians' efforts at establishing a translation program, and we have navigational charts that will allow us to locate the Citadel within an astral body known as the Serpent Nebula. But our biggest boon is the highest ranking Turian POW: Admiral Kravos Pridius."

"I remember him," Owen said, "Admiral Trisun appointed him as her replacement."

"And he is also the commanding officer of the battle group you encountered at Relay 314." Drescher revealed.

"You're kidding me." Nathan said in disbelief.

"We appreciate the irony of that fact, Sergeant." Irons nodded."The first alien since the Prolat to open fire on us turns out to be a boon. He has been most cooperative in maintaining order throughout the Turian fleet and encampment. Several groups made attempts at escaping the planet, but he put them down and has ensured that further attempts have been discouraged. But he can only police his troops for so long before something occurs that causes an escalation in violence, and the continued health of every Turian on Shanxi is vital to this mission."

"Which is why you want us on the actual first flight to the Citadel," Owen surmised.

"You will not be required to take part in any actual diplomatic exchanges, but we predict that you will be required to provide testimony concerning the events in question." Irons explained. "I know that you have all endured an extremely stressful and traumatic time, but the stakes surrounding this mission have forced my hand."

Victoria shook her head. "You don't need to apologize to us, Mr President."

"Speak for yourself." Nathan mumbled.

"We know that the security of the Alliance takes priority," Victoria continued, "And I'd gladly volunteer for this."

"Not that it would matter." Nathan added, sighing heavily. "Let's do as the High Inquisitor would and just get on with it. We won't have any choice in this anyways."

"All in good time, Campbell." Jason flicked his cigar off to the side. "But first we need to have a talk about certain details, starting with your little duel with General Arterius and why we have a corpse that's more machine than Turian."

Xxx

On board the Olympian

"These machines are far smaller than anything I've ever seen before, yet they appear capable of harnessing dark energy to an extent that I would have believed impossible."

The body of Desolas Arterius lay across a table within a sealed room. Over a dozen heavily armoured soldiers stood around it, weapons locked at all times as robotic arms tipped with surgical tools probed the corpse. A window overlooked the operating theater, separating four men and women from what was left of the Turian General...and whatever had been inside of him. Each of them wore a long white lab coat with patches of different colour along the sleeves and down the front: orange, green, blue and black.

"They must have been concealed within him for years, given the extent of how much organic tissue had been converted." The Man in Orange said, recording his thoughts for future reference. "Organs, bones, muscles...everything has been replaced and improved or outright repurpose, all the while maintained by microscopic machines which synthesize needed materials from elements present within the body or peripheral sources. Had Sergeant Campbell not eliminate their power source the subject likely would have regenerated and regained full functionality long before now. The machines appear to have drawn on the subject's own bio-electricity."

"But these machines have shown an amazing aptitude for quickly and efficiently synthesizing materials as well as complex mechanisms, so why would they not construct a secondary power supply for themselves?" The Woman in Green inquired.

"Perhaps that would have been too overt and easily noticed by whatever means are available to Turian medical facilities." The Man in Blue suggested. "The subject's makeup has been altered in ways that would easily be noticed now that he has expired, but I wouldn't be surprised if they provided some means of avoiding electronic detection."

"That's allegory, not fact." The Woman in Black shook her head. "A fact we do have however is that these machines appear to have been divided based on their unique function, so that may not entirely be off the table. Closer analysis may confirm or deny your suspicion."

The Man in Blue nodded, accepting his mistake. "Yes, yes, I was several steps ahead of myself. Too much excitement."

"You can hardly be blamed, Doctor. I find this to be a most impressive development myself, one that may prove to be most beneficial to our long term goals."

"Cellular regeneration, element zero synthesizing capabilities, full cybernetic conversion...I can see why you would be interested in this on a personal level, sir." The Woman in Black observed, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"You can't honestly be surprise, can you? I've made it no secret that any technological leaps which might assist me with my current condition are highly valued."

"And as the Director you are well within your rights to prioritize replicating this technology as long as it can be profitable to our organization as a whole." The Man in Orange quickly interrupted, sensing the direction that the discussion would take based on a very long precedent. "I second the motion that we focus on replicating this micro-robotic technology for the benefit of advancing our current research projects."

"On the condition that my division has full access to any prototypes for testing in integration with current weapon designs I shall agree to this." The Woman in Green said.

"Request approved, Doctor."

"I support this proposal under the same condition."

"All departments shall reap the benefits of this venture, and I feel that this may only be the beginning of a prosperous expansion in both our organization and the Systems Alliance. But we must be careful to ensure that those who might inconvenience us are not able to obtain the results of our efforts. Manifest has managed to escape with an alien artifact of unknown origin and capability, but what data we have from it indicates a link between it and the technology inhabiting the body of General Desolas."

"I've already dispatched operatives to track the frigate spotted leaving Shanxi." The Woman in Black said without tearing her gaze away from Desolas' body, which she was beginning to make a careful incision into with the instruments hovering over the corpse, cutting into one section with a laser scalpel to extract a fresh sample for later study. "General Mycroft may be crafty, but he can't hide from my department forever."

"I look forward to news of your success, but not as much as an explanation for how Manifest somehow acquired an active model based on your proposed designs for the next generation of Combat Synths."

The Woman in Black froze. "...I'll conduct an internal investigation."

"You will conduct a purge of all Synths in your department and suspend access of all other members to classified materials until I am satisfied that we are not at risk of losing vital materials to terrorists and radicals." The voice was more stern than before. "The Synth Retention Bureau is treading on thin ice, doctor. If you give me reason to doubt the ability of you and your subordinates rest assured I shall not hesitate to have a discussion with the Chairman regarding your failures. Am I understood?"

The Woman in Black slowly inhaled as she turned and faced the source of the voice: a humanoid robot which acted as a means for interaction and communication. It mimicked the designs for the Assaultron robots of the Pre-War era, but had undergone many redesigns and improvements to make it sleeker, more efficient and most of all deadlier.

"I understand you perfectly," She said calmly, "...Director House."

For several moments the robot stared at her, its single eye boring into her face until Robert House spoke again. "Excellent, then let us move on to the next matter at hand. I understand some of you have voiced concerns regarding Victoria Mason's dramatic appearance as well as her actions in the final hours of the invasion. I will close this topic immediately by urging every single one of you to leave her be, as well as her relatives and colleagues. We have no interest in making an enemy of a Shepard or a Mason...not when they have proven to be our most beneficial providers, albeit unintentionally."

"They also nearly destroyed our collective efforts many times before the Alliance was even born," The Woman in Green countered, "We cannot disregard the risk they pose to us."

"Nor do I intend to make that mistake," House agreed, "Rest assured, I intend to maintain proper surveillance of Victoria Mason as well as her cousin Jonathan as they develop, but I will not abide any actions taken against them, be it directly or by proxy. Am I understood?"

"Yes Mr House."

"With that, ladies and gentlemen, you are dismissed."

Xxx

Shanxi

Turian Encampment/Containment Zone

Medical Area

Humiliated did not do justice to how the surviving Turians on Shanxi felt.

Angered at their circumstances, at being held prisoner by primitives who had violated Council Law, at being defeated or denied a quick and clean victory repeatedly...and at the man who would serve as their scapegoat.

Kravos had agreed to take an escort down to the encampment at Hen'ar's urging, knowing that there would be some among the personnel who would hold him solely responsible for their defeat and may take steps to have him 'properly punished' by their own hands. Four loyal and heavily armed Turian soldiers taken straight from his ship's security detail accompanied him while others had been spread out to keep watch on the path from the air field to the medical pre-fabs.

Where he went eyes turned towards him. Many held contempt or disappointment, others sneered and laughed, and some directed silent pity towards the newly minted flag officer as he stopped in front of a two story structure that now housed dozens of wounded Turians in need of extensive surgical care.

A medical officer greeted Kravos with a salute. "Sir!"

"Is he awake?"

The officer nodded. "We...had to strap him down sir."

Kravos nodded. "I'll see him alone."

"Sir, with respect I advise against that."

"Your advice is noted and appreciated, doctor." Kravos stepped inside, "But I need this as much as he does."

The first floor was lined with cots where soldiers slept or quietly ate or read as they awaited clearance to return to their barracks. Some acknowledged his entry as he passed them on his way to the stairs.

The second floor was practically abandoned, empty save for two guards standing at a door which led to a separate section of the level.

"How is he?" Kravos asked as he stopped before them.

"He stopped making noise several hours ago now, sir." One of the guards answered, "We have a supply of anaesthetic on hand in case he presents a risk to himself again. The Doc said he'd sent you the code to gas the room with a single command from your Omni-Tool."

"Indeed he did," Kravos nodded, "Thank you both, you can step aside now."

They shared the same opinion as the doctor but remained silent as they stepped aside and allowed Kravos to unlock and open the door to a room with three beds. Two of these beds were empty, but the third had a form strapped down to it.

The sole occupant of the room slowly turned his head and glared at Kravos.

"Traitor." Saren Arterius hissed.

Kravos sighed and stepped into the room, sealing the door behind him. "Good morning, Saren. You'll be pleased to know that your brother has saved your life once again. Thanks to his connections in the Hierarchy the humans have agreed to forget your involvement in the interests of seeking peace-"

"Peace?" Saren scoffed. "Because of you there will be no true peace. We've been humiliated, defeated by upstarts! Taken prisoner and left at the mercy of savages!"

"I tried everything to keep it from coming to this, Saren. Your brother-"

"Was right!" Saren cut him off and tried to sit up without success. "He was right. About these people, about this whole mission! And about you and that bare face Trisun!"

For a moment Kravos almost snapped at the young soldier, but restrained himself from losing his composure. He took a deep breath and counted very quickly to ten before seating himself next to Saren's bed, keeping just out of reach of any talons.

"That's grief talking, Saren, not the soldier." Kravos shook his head. "You know as well as I do that your brother tried to kill an entire city to make sure we would remain committed to this fight, the fight he sought."

Saren turned away from Kravos, his eyes falling on the stump covered in thick white padding to show what remained of his severed arm. For a moment he felt the cold sting of the human blade that had cut through his elbow, rekindling his outrage.

"He wasn't wrong." Saren insisted, "He saw the future the way others refused to, he saw the threat before him and moved to eliminate it."

"What threat, Saren?" Kravos demanded. "What threat? Thousands of people hunkered down, waiting with prayers that they wouldn't be killed alongside their families and friends? For Spirits' sake Saren you can't possibly justify what he tried to do! It was barbaric, it was monstrous, it was-"

He caught himself as he realized that he'd just lost control in spite of his own efforts to keep his emotions contained. Kravos tried to rein them in and begin anew.

"There was nothing honorable about it," He stated firmly, defending his point. "I know that you want to defend your brother, defend his honour and his reputation, but we all know what he did and what he intended. He was mad, Saren...I don't know how or when but Desolas lost his mind and almost had us committed to a war for it."

Saren turned back over and growled, straining against his bonds. "Who is the mad man here, Pridius?! You know what these people have done to themselves and what they can do unless restrained. He knew that and you're cuddling up to these savages, defending them even!"

"And what right would we really have to restrain these people on the basis of what they could do?" Kravos retorted, outwardly betraying no emotion beyond disappointment. "The Asari are a race of natural Biotics who could have taken over the galaxy thousands of years ago if they'd felt inclined."

Kravos opened his Omni-Tool and examined Saren's vitals, but continued talking without pause. "The Salarians are masters of espionage who no doubt have infiltrated the Hierarchy a million times, while the Quarians possess the largest fleet in the galaxy and are a logistical nightmare to keep track of."

Sifting through layers of data, Kravos saw that Saren's severed arm had been left aboard the human station before it exploded. This meant that the young soldier would either require a cloned replacement or a prosthetic.

"The Batarians have proven themselves unreasonable and narrow sighted and the Krogan have proven to be even worse to the point that if the Genophage was magically cured today the first thing they'd do tomorrow is go back to throwing meteors at us for no reason other than wounded pride." Kravos concluded, raising his eyes from the medical data. "So what makes these people special in any way that would require us to subjugate them by force of arms as your brother tried to do?"

Saren glared up at the ceiling. "You need to ask that? You've seen everything I have, you know that these primitives are dangerous!"

Kravos leaned back slowly in his chair, pondering his next response.

"...not nearly as much as the Turian Hierarchy."

This statement genuinely surprised Saren. "What?"

"In all of the known galaxy I don't think I've ever seen a species more reckless, self righteous, vindictive and dangerous than a Turian." Kravos said, "Do you know why we are the biggest threat to the galaxy?"

He leaned in closely and whispered his answer.

"Because we spawn people like your brother all the time, then we call them heroes and make them leaders." Kravos retreated. "And when they get away with slaughtering innocents we pin more medals on them and paint them as good people. But your brother was not a good person Saren, you've seen everything that he's done, you know how many war crimes were swept under the rug. It's because of people like your brother that the Turian Hierarchy is the greatest danger to civilization: it's proof that we're just like the Krogan, only we hide our blood lust by preaching of duty and honor."

The Admiral shook his head. "Ironically it was the very madness that your brother caused which showed me this truth, allowed me to witness it firsthand. When I saw Turians killing their fellow soldiers at one man's behest it made me realize the one difference between us and the Krogan of old."

Kravos slid his seat back and stood up, straightening out his officer's coat. "We're better at pretending that we're not savages, and your brother was the best out of all of us at putting on a good show right up until the end."

As Kravos turned and left he expected Saren to rage and shout, to struggle to escape his bed. But the young soldier remained silent and immobile until the door slid shut and left him alone with his thoughts...

And that voice...

He lies...

Xxx

Turian Cruiser Valor

Captain's Quarters

Several hours later

"You can't possibly be serious."

Meeting with Saren was not to be the end of today's festivities for Kravos, who found himself speaking to the designated leader of humanity. He would have felt charmed under any other circumstance, but given what the reality of his situation was he couldn't feel any less flattered to have the attention of so many important politicians.

"I assure you, Admiral Pridius, I am completely serious." President Irons affirmed, "A simple delegation on its own may not be enough to bring an end to any further plans that your government may have in regards to the Alliance. We need someone from outside our sphere of influence who can speak on our behalf."

"And your brilliant master strategy is to release your most valuable prisoner?" Kravos refrained from reaching for another bottle of brandy, if only to cling to his last ounce of decency as long as he could. "Mr President, as honored as I am to be conversing with the leader of not one but four different species- five if you count your synthetics, I've had a very long week and I don't know if I have the constitution for anymore big news like this...strategy you're pitching to me."

"We have read over the files detailing the events from the 314 Skirmish to your invasion of Shanxi." Irons said, "Your translation index made it quite easy to acquire all of the facts regarding your part in this travesty, which is why we feel you can be trusted."

High Inquisitor Maxson huffed. "I don't know if we should bother. He might not be human but I swear I can smell the alcohol just by looking at his posture. You've been drinking heavily, and it's affecting your composure. I don't think we'd want a drunkard speaking for us."

"Congratulations on the observation of the millennia, human." Kravos sighed, "But if there is one thing my species can beat yours in it'll be endurance, and it takes far more than a single bottle to intoxicate me. However, if I'd known that you'd be calling me again so soon for such a vastly important topic I might have refrained from imbibing just a little longer."

"I think we can forgive that," Irons said, the frown on his face indicating that he at least would not forget Kravos' behaviour. "Admiral, we know that you opposed the decision to invade our territory right from the moment you realized that things weren't so black and white. We also are aware of the fact that you sided against General Arterius in the end. While these actions alone would not usually gain you too many favors, when I compared your conduct to the files on Turian culture taken from your computers it became easier to see why you can be trusted."

"So tell me then: just why am I apparently so trusted?"

"Because you're too honorable for your own good, and you care more about preserving lives than ending them."

Kravos' looked away and muttered. "Lucky guess."

"If you were to stand before your leaders right now, what would you tell them about the events at Shanxi?"

"Probably start by throwing Desolas and Trisun under the Tomkah and pray that I won't be joining them there." Kravos shrugged. "I don't know much about your people but I'd assume that the notion of being forced to clean up somebody else's mess and bear their consequences is universally frowned upon."

"Heh, starting to like this one's sense of humour." Jason snickered, "You're worried that you'll be strung up and hung to dry for the fight these two got into, am I right?"

Kravos threw any restraint to the wind and picked up an unopened bottle. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were another of those Psykers who gave me one more good reason to drink."

"So you would prefer to stew in self pity rather than fight this?" Irons demanded. "When a man puts the greater good above anything else we reward them, or at least have the respect not to punish them too harshly. Would your Primarch truly be so offended that you did the right thing?"

"You really have no idea what Turian culture is like, do you?" Kravos popped open the bottle. "If it was only me who was going to burn I'd be begrudging but willing to walk up and accept my fate."

"But it's your family and those who promoted you in the past who would also suffer, no?" Irons asked.

"That's how it works." Kravos nodded, slumping back into his chair and thereby abandoning any illusion of formality.

"Under normal circumstances, yes."

The rim of the bottle stopped a hair's breath from tipping towards Kravos' mouth.

"...normal?"

"What do you know about the Rite of Digeris, Admiral Pridius?"

Kravos lowered the bottle to his side, holding it up by the neck between two talons. "It's a last ditch measure for promoting someone to a higher rank so that they can continue in place of their predecessor without undergoing the usual ceremonial requirements. It also has consequences for both the one to invoke it and the one to be promoted by it."

"Mainly for the former if I am reading this correctly." Irons observed, staring at a screen which Kravos couldn't see from his end of the link. "The Rite of Digeris maintains your Hierarchy's tradition of holding the one to sponsor your advancement in rank responsible for your perceived failures, but I have spent years interpreting carefully worded policies and I spy with my little eye what may be a loop hole..."

Jason sighed and removed his cigar from his mouth. "Oh for the love of Deathclaw Christ Greg stop stalling! You, Admiral Mopey Von Madonna! Look at your file on the Rite of Digeris, Section Three on varying forms of the Rite. There's one kind where you go through a very brief ceremony and say 'I do', which by the way seems appropriate considering how traumatic and painful my life became after my second marriage; then you have a second version where you get to say dick all in deciding whether to accept your new rank or not."

"Section- what?" Kravos opened his Omni-Tool, "I don't see any sections, there's only one file that describes the basic details of-"

"You have a list of laws in that huge ass codex, right?" Jason demanded. "Open it and type in Digeris! You Turians have search bars, right? Oh forget it, I'll read it."

The High Inquisitor cleared his throat, staring at his Pip-Boy. "Rite of Digeris, Section Three, Subsection Two: In the event of an officer invoking the Rite of Digeris in the middle of an ongoing military operation commanded by the Turian Hierarchy and granting an advancement of rank to a subordinate without acquiring their written or verbal consent or in spite of that subordinate's written or verbal protest, followed by the immediate death or loss of ability to function in the capacity of that officer's position, if the military operation in question is aborted or deemed a failure as a result of the command of the newly promoted subordinate the officer who has invoked the Rite of Digeris shall be held fully responsible with consideration being provided to the subordinate who was promoted without providing consent or while expressing opposition to their promotion."

He lowered his arm and planted his cigar back between his teeth. "Voila, you're not as deep in shit as you thought!"

Gregory Irons sighed at the behaviour of his old friend. "Despite High Inquisitor Maxson's...inappropriate conduct, what he says stands. After we became aware of the circumstances of your promotion I took the liberty of perusing your codex for further information on it. I admit that I discovered this tidbit of information by mistake due to my habit of thorough examination of what we call 'the fine print'."

"Fine...print?" Kravos set the bottle on his desk and leaned forward, his interest piqued as well as his level of elation.

"In my position I am met by many who approach me for authorization for funding of projects, assignment of resources and personnel and such," Irons explained, "They usually attempt to hide certain details amidst their proposals so that they might circumvent regulations, gain more than they deserve and in some way."

"I think we have something similar to this 'fine print' back in Citadel space." Kravos mused, thinking of Illium and its history of shady, deceptive contracts often resulting in borderline enslavement for anyone not proficient enough to look between the lines. "Why wouldn't they make this fact more open to the public?"

"Perhaps to discourage its use, and increase the number of examples to use as a deterrent against future use." Irons suggested, "I imagine that because of how rare it is for the Rite of Digeris to actually be used most Turians would not bother to actually investigate regulations behind it. You certainly never imagined being promoted from Captain to Admiral, yes?"

"So they didn't hide it, they just conveniently forgot to tell us." Kravos exhaled and rubbed his face. "Spirits...I feel like a damn fool. I've been locked up in here feeling sorry for myself when I'm not breaking up fights groundside. But if there's some glimmer of hope at the end of all this..."

Irons cleared his throat. "I can't guarantee that this will protect you from any repercussions back home, Admiral. All that I am doing by this is presenting you with a potential lifeline. Whether or not it works is beyond my control."

"And you, the elected leader of your entire civilization, have done this while personally calling me right in my quarters...why?" Kravos leaned to the right, leaning his jaw against his fist while propping his elbow on the arm of his chair. "Perhaps as motivation to cooperate with your request?"

"Well I wanted to threaten to bombard your camp, but I've been led to believe that that's considered rude." Jason muttered, "Point is we're sending the delegation with or without you and it'll be a whole lot smoother if we do it with you, so if this gets you off your scaly ass and doing something useful for our benefit then we'll throw, shovel and spray as much hope at you as we can until you're so full of it you'll start crapping rainbows and sneezing out dandelions."

An awkward silence befell the conversation.

"...you certainly have a way with words, Inquisitor Maxson." Kravos said.

"As long as it gets you doing something useful I'll become your personal fucking motivational speaker." Jason replied, "So will you do us a favour or not?"

Kravos looked down at the condition of his uniform and then at that of his quarters. Both reflected his declining emotional condition, the once tidy and neat uniform and furniture the victim of at least one night of drunken behaviour that would have gotten him kicked right out of the Hierarhcy's chain of command if he hadn't been absolutely certain to sweep for bugs of any kind prior to downing as much as he could without killing himself.

"I may need some time to clean up so you don't have a slob speaking in your defence." He finally relented, "But I've already taken my stance against fighting you this far, so by the Spirits I'll at least carry it all the way to the Council. You have my word that I shall speak to the Council with your delegation to explain what transpired in this system under Desolas' command."

"About fucking time!" Jason clapped his hands. "Ain't met a soldier, human or otherwise, who I couldn't get moving and making themselves useful again."

"No offence to you, High inquisitor," Kravos said, in the process of straightening out his uniform as best as he could. "But I question whatever chain of command would allow someone with your conduct to become a commanding officer of anything."

"Well then it's a good thing the Brotherhood ain't some prim and proper army like yours, Turian!" Jason laughed. "It's a benevolent dictatorship disguised as a proper army, I'm just the first Maxson in a long time to acknowledge and take pleasure in that fact rather than take a pile of shit and call it diamonds. Now you make sure that you look presentable by the time we send you out, because if you aren't I'll-"

"I think the good Admiral gets the point, Jason!" Irons intervened before Jason could do anymore to besmirch humanity's image in the eyes of Kravos with his behaviour unbecoming of an officer of his rank. "We will keep you informed of when our delegation departs, Admiral Pridius. You may take whichever ship you wish as well as any number of crew or wounded Hierarchy personnel requiring more intensive treatment that they cannot obtain here in our care. Alliance Command, out."

The link was closed, plunging the quarters back into near darkness. Kravos shook his head and prayed that the High Inquisitor was a rare exception among Alliance commanders rather than a prime example of what he should come to expect in the coming months.

"It's one new surprise after the other," He muttered, stripping off his coat entirely. "At least this one was measurably pleasant."

"Does that mean my presence will no longer be required, Admiral?"

Kravos had almost forgotten the presence of his guest. He sighed and turned towards his bed, which he had had the wisdom to reposition far out of view of his quarters' communication panel years ago.

"That depends," He responded, "Do the odds of me being lined up for the slaughter still look good?"

Hen'ar, now dressed, had been sitting on the edge of his bed and watching his exchange with two of the highest ranking men in the Systems Alliance in silence.

"Enough that I'm confident that we're both wondering if this had been done in haste." She said, making it clear what she meant by 'this'. "You thought you were as good as dead, I thought you were as good as dead, you only live once and there was the off chance that I'd be dragged down with you as well..."

"Could still happen." Kravos pointed out, tossing his jacket aside. "Besides, I think after all the regulations we've forced through a meat grinder before today we can't make our situation that much worse with one more broken rule about crew fraternization."

"Ah-ah, command fraternization," Hen'ar countered, "You're a flag officer now, temporarily or not, and they do treat that worse than a lowly Captain doing this."

"Well...again, I don't see how I could possibly dig my grave any deeper by this point, supposing I end up in it at all." Kravos sat next to her. "So what do you say? One more to celebrate our possible salvation?"

Hen'ar's response was to push him down onto his back with one hand. "One more to celebrate you not sounding completely spirits damned miserable, sir."

As she leaned down towards him Kravos chuckled softly. "I can accept that."

He was the worst excuse of a Turian to ever hold the rank of Admiral, and at that moment he honestly didn't care.

Xxx

Brotherhood Mothership Zeta

March 19th, 2353

From the moment that they had seen it through the cockpit canopy of their Vertibird transport to the instance where they had stepped onto the bridge none of the four could believe that they were to travel the stars aboard a piece of history.

"Oh my god, we're really here." Edward Rice whispered a prayer as he surveyed the two tiered bridge crawling with Brotherhood crew, all centered on the Captain's chair where High Inquisitor Jason Maxson himself sat...or rather a holographic image of him.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" The supreme commander of all parts of the Brotherhood of Steel greeted them, rotating his chair to face them. "Owen! You old fossil! You've gotten skinny! You need to get back to stuffing that mug of yours before you end up as skin and bones!"

Owen took Jason's antics in stride, having grown up alongside the slightly younger man who actually appeared to be his senior at first glance. "Always good to see you after a battle, Jason."

"And you!" Jason rose up out of his chair, showing that even without the benefit of his armour or even being physically present he was built like a Yao-Guai, and pulled Victoria into a hug. "I can finally start treating my god daughter properly! Oh all the decades of doting that I'm going to put you through, just you wait kiddo!"

"Whoa, is Vic getting hugged by a hologram?" Nathan asked, slack jawed.

"Solid hologram," Owen explained casually, "Don't let it surprise you, the Brotherhood always did keep the best toys for itself. It's just a walking set of mass effect fields designed to mimic solid contact."

Victoria struggled to draw breath until Jason put her back down. "G-god daughter?"

"Did Al really keep that from you too?" Jason 'tsked' in disappointment. "Owen, the next time I see your brother remind me to give him another bruise to go with the one you gave him!"

"Noted, Jason." Owen murmured, his attention focused more on the room itself. "So this is where my old man started it all, huh? Seized the whole ship damn near on his own."

"Ah, yes." Jason nodded, his enthusiasm deflated to leave him more subdued and calm. "This is where we really took our first step back towards space, Owen, and we owe it all to your old man. My dad and Shepard played their parts but in the end it was your father who took control of our very first star ship."

Nathan brushed one hand over the head of the captain's chair, which had long ago been redesigned along with most of the interior of the ship to mimic the aesthetics of the classic Alliance vessel.

"We're walking where a hero stood." He said in awe, "I never thought I'd get to step on the Zeta."

"Well congratulations Arizona, you're now the latest living legend to walk the halls of this ship." Jason clapped Nathan on the shoulder as his avatar walked past the younger man and took his seat back. "You're all heroes now. The Heroes of Shanxi they're calling you! And I had Greg make sure that everybody damn well knows that Jane Parker is the biggest hero of all. Nobody is going to white wash her out of the picture just because she was a Ghoul, mark me on that."

Owen nodded and stepped to the front of the bridge where a forward viewing canopy had been replaced by layers of thick armour and several screens providing camera footage of the space ahead of the saucer shaped mother ship.

"I heard that you did some talking with the Turian Admiral." Owen said, observing the enhanced image of the Turian cruiser Valor. "You always did have a way with words, but even that surprises me."

"The capacity for self pity transcends all species and cultural barriers, and therefore so too does the capacity for kicking someone in the ass until they get it in gear." Jason replied smugly. "Just know the right thing to say or do and you can convince anybody to do what you want. If life were one of those fancy vid-simulation games with those fancy statistics for determining skill in different categories I'd have maximum charisma."

"And next to no subtlety," Owen added, "So are you intending to command this ship from light years away or is the Captain presently absent?"

"The Zeta is the personal flagship of the High Inquisitor, Captain Mason." Jason stood up out of the chair, "I am the Captain, but by some stroke of misfortune I found myself on Earth's moon while she was being refitted near Terra Nova. I'd have been on board in time to retake Shanxi but even I'm not immune to red tape and the griping of bureaucrats."

"So the Zeta requires an acting commander then? Where is your XO?" Owen asked.

"Inquisitor Martel will meet with you briefly. He should be in the middle of helping our ambassadors to settle into the guest quarters." Jason answered, "Once you reach the Citadel just let these three handle the talking and wait until you're called on to give the facts. They'll probably brief you while you're underway, same with the Admiral so expect to see a lot of him."

"Let's not keep Martel waiting then." Owen decided, "Jason, thanks again for keeping the political heat off our backs. The last thing any of these soldiers deserve is to be made into scapegoats or have the press suffocating them. When we get back and manage to get ourselves into a bar every drink will be on me."

"Don't make promises your wallet can't keep, Owen!" Jason cackled. "I'll let you go now. High Inquisitor Maxson, out."

As the avatar disappeared Nathan looked at Owen in awe. "You know, after all the insane crap I've seen you do I shouldn't be surprised by the fact that you can talk like that with Jason Maxson himself."

"Spanked him when he was a little shit of a brat who I had the misfortune of being paid ten credits and hour to babysit too," Owen chuckled, "Legends have childhoods too Campbell, you should know seeing as you're technically one now too. Nathan Campbell, Hero of Shanxi!"

"Holy crap, you're right." Nathan whispered, "...sir, you just blew my mind."

Xxx

In another area previously used as crew quarters, Owen and his companions were directed to the sole conference room aboard the Zeta.

"Captain Mason, Inquisitor Martel has been expecting you all." The guard standing at the door said while quickly saluting. "You'll need to pass through a quick security scan, sir. This will apply for every time you enter and leave the conference room."

"Every single time?" Victoria clarified, and received a nod in response. "That's going to get very irritating very quickly if we use this room more than once or twice a day."

The guard's helmet masked his expression, but they were still able to see the subtle hint of a unrepressed shudder through his uniform. "Not just for you, ma'am."

The doors opened to a small room beyond occupied by two more guards, one on each side of a security checkpoint. As the group was made to step through one at a time, standing under the gaze of a scanning device for several seconds while a line of blue light washed over their bodies from front to back and vice versa, the two guards conversed.

"So they weren't lying, we made contact with walking, talking, dinosaurs." One of them commented, her eyes fixed on her screen while she waved each person through with one hand.

"I know! The one that came through here with Martel...oh man he looked like he could rip my head off." The other guard, a Ghoul, nodded while conducting her own analysis with her Pip-Boy. "Gotta wonder what Turians look like under that armour though."

"Ewww." The first guard grimaced. "Why would you want to know that?"

"Oh come on, you can't deny that one of those birds has a prettier mug than me." The Ghoul chuckled and cleared Nathan, the final member of the quarter to pass through. "Come ooooon. You were looking at that fringe! Don't lie to me!"

Nathan cleared his throat and quickly stepped away from the pair. "And with that, I will never look at a Turian the same way, and right before I'm supposed to go and meet ones who aren't inclined to shoot me on sight."

"Walk it off, Campbell." Victoria shook her head and patted him on the back as he passed her. "Janie might not be here to say it so I'll do it for her."

Somehow Nathan knew that Jane would appreciate that, but before he could voice that thought the doors opened and something hit him in the head.

"Absolutely not! Never, I say!" A voice with a thick Scottish accent snarled as Nathan rubbed his head and Edward ducked as another data pad was flung his way. "Skin me, burn me, shoot me but you'll never make me work with this faithless rat!"

Seated at the table were a human in Inquisitorial armour and robes wielding an open flask of whisky, a very shaken Admiral Kravos Pridius, a Ghoul with the symbol of the Alliance Diplomacy Corps emblazoned on their chest and an Assaultron with a matching symbol painted onto their chassis.

"Oh that's some mighty big words coming from a suped up pea shooter on legs!" The Ghoul growled, his accent reminiscent of the enduring trend descended from the Tunnel Rats gang of Vault 101 and his attire a clear homage to the original gang itself: leather jacket, blue jeans, a pompadour wig and sun glasses.

"Gentlemen," The Inquisitor, a dark haired human male in his mid forties with a neatly trimmed beard sighed and concealed his flask, "Please, calm yourselves. Dios, dame fuerzas."

"I'll not be calm Inquisitor Martel!" The Assaultron slammed one fist against the table. "If you think I'll ever work with this womanizing, howlin' nyaff!"

"Howling...what?" Victoria whispered, watching the exchange.

"I ain't so keen on this dish washer actin' so high'n mighty with me." The Ghoul growled, leaning forward on the table. "You know what we call your type back home?"

"I'll show you what we do with your kind back home!" The Assaultron rose to its feet.

"Enough!" Inquisitor Martel shouted, "Ambassadors, if you cannot behave accordingly I will eject you from this ship! I do not care how long it will take to acquire a delegation that can conduct itself in a way that represents the Systems Alliance positively, I will not tolerate your petty arguments here or at our destination!"

"Are we intruding?" Owen spoke up, and found three pairs of eyes and a lens fixed on him.

"Captain Mason!" The Assaultron straightened up and lowered its arms to its sides. "Apologies, sir!"

"Yeah, we were just discussing an issue of a uh...personal matter." The Ghoul stood up and smoothed out his jacket.

Kravos relaxed and thanked whatever spirits were watching over him.

"Captain, I bid you welcome to the Zeta." Inquisitor Martel said, looking grateful for their arrival. "I am Inquisitor Martel, executive officer. Allow me to introduce Ambassadors DeLoria and Wallace as well as Turian Admiral Kravos Pridius."

"A pleasure to...wait, DeLoria?" Owen looked at the Ghoul. "As in Butch DeLoria?"

"Oh no, no relation." Ambassador DeLoria shook his head. "It's just a popular name and the longer we Ghouls go the more likely we are to forget some tidbits like our real names."

"And...Wallace," Owen looked at the Assaultron next. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Oh uh...well it is a popular name, I would not be surprised if you've heard it before." Wallace simulated clearing his non-existent throat. "But anyways Captain, with you here perhaps we can begin."

"Agreed," Owen nodded and took a seat at the table. "To start with, I want both of you off this ship immediately."

"...Beg-pardon?" Ambassador DeLoria blinked.

"After the pathetic excuse of conduct I saw when those doors opened I think we can all agree that neither of you are suitable to represent the Alliance." Owen said firmly, "Ambassador Martel, correct me if I am wrong but all members of the Brotherhood of Steel's Inquisition are provided training in conducting diplomatic functions in addition to matters of intelligence and military, yes?"

Getting over his surprise, Martel nodded. "Yes, Captain Mason, but I don't see how you have the authority to have the ambassadors removed from their positions."

"I'll tell you what gives me the power," Owen folded his hands on the table in front of him, becoming the portrait of serenity and self control, "I am the son of Logan Mason, one of the men who united humanity and helped us to claw our way out of the irradiated ashes of the old world. I am also one of the Heroes of Shanxi. And if I were to personally drag both of you off this ship after delivering a beating the likes of which are only recorded in stories of heroes such as my father, the Courier, the Chosen One and the original Vault Dweller then not one person would dare to object or punish me for it."

His eyes moved between the two ambassadors.

"High Inquisitor Maxson is one of my closest friends, the President of the Systems Alliance personally owes me for assisting in keeping my own niece secret from me and almost everybody in Alliance space would support me just because of who my father is...much as I hate to admit that last part." Owen continued, "So believe me when I say that I can and will shoot you both in the legs and ship you back to Earth unless you both get out of this room, walk to the hangar and schedule a shuttle back down to Shanxi where you will await a new assignment from the Diplomat Corps. I will do so gladly, I will view it as a healthy form of stress relief to cope with the worst week of my life and no court will argue with my decision."

Owen now fixed his gaze on Inquisitor Martel, who managed to meet his eyes without flinching.

"And if you try to interfere with me in doing this, Inquisitor Martel, I will have you join them." Owen added. "As well as many of your crew as necessary. Now with that in mind...kindly get off of this ship and forget any notion you ever had of taking part in this delegation."

Ambassador DeLoria swallowed and slowly got up, followed out the door by Wallace. Once the doors shut behind them Owen looked at Inquisitor Martel again.

"Now tell me...why out of every member of the Diplomat Corps did you choose those two?" He demanded.

"I didn't," Martel answered, "They were the only members on Shanxi at the time, and Inquisitor Maxson made it clear that we are pressed for time. DeLoria and Wallace are old colleagues who once operated their own business in the Capital Wastelands, and despite their relationship turning sour they continued to accompany one another anywhere and everywhere."

"Well Jason has about as much sense as he did when he was ten, so I'm intervening." Owen declared, "You and Victoria are better suited to this task than those two if what I saw is any indication to go by."

"Captain, as flattering as that is those two were trained specifically for this." Martel argued, "I have only limited experience in the field of negotiating, and that is still more than what Inquisitor Grey-I mean Mason has."

Owen shrugged. "If I recall we don't need a lot of experience. We aren't going to establish an actual treaty with this Council, but simply to arrange a ceasefire with the Turians. After that the Alliance can get a real ambassador on the job of arranging more long term...arrangements."

Martel leaned back in his seat and folded his hands across his lap. "You do make a fair point, but I would be violating my present orders to deliver them both to this Council." He looked at Kravos. "Admiral, perhaps you have some input to share on this matter?"

"I actually do," Kravos admitted, "And Captain Mason, I agree with your decision in spite of its informal nature, but for different reasons."

"Do share then," Owen nodded.

"The Council may be the central pillar maintaining relations between different species and governments, but the Turian Hierarchy prioritizes the military ahead of all other organizations." Kravos explained, "Every member of the population participates in the military for some span of time, and afterwards continue to contribute in their own ways. Even our politicians maintain a pro-military stance, sometimes to a fault."

"And if they were to speak with another soldier they might be more receptive." Nathan said, "It's like back in Arizona. Tribe leaders might adhere to Alliance laws, but the Alliance has other tribals act as intermediaries on its behalf to maintain peace in the region. Better to have somebody you can relate to than some stranger who you share nothing with."

Martel nodded, moved by this logic. "If you believe that it is for the better that I and Inquisitor Mason take over as our representatives, then I shall ask forgiveness rather than permission. You've convinced me, Captain, and I shall endeavour to meet your expectations of me."

"Just get that ceasefire and I'll buy you a drink when we get home." Owen nodded. "Admiral, what can we expect when we establish communications with the Council?"

"The Hierarchy will more than likely be on full alert, but if they have refused to grant additional ships to my original mission then they may have been convinced to stand down by the Council." Kravos answered, "The Asari Republics will be mainly interested in maintaining peace, so you should have little trouble with them for now. The Salarian Union is known for possessing an unfortunate habit of spying on people it claims to be allied with, so I would make sure to sweep everything for bugs after you arrive and after you leave, but beyond that they should follow the Asari unless convinced that the Alliance represents an unacceptable threat."

"What of the Council's position on things like artificial intelligence?" Edward asked, "Didn't the codex mention that AIs are outlawed?"

"With good reason, yes, but that is because of an existing precedent which you might contradict." Kravos explained, "Despite the fear of synthetic intelligence and numerous examples of AIs behaving violently towards organics, you appear to have avoided this entirely. I would advise that you wait until the Council has declared a state of ceasefire, and more importantly until a long term ambassador has been appointed. They may react with fear by that point but the Council will not declare war on you simply for having AIs integrated into your society."

"What other points should I keep in mind if I am to represent the Alliance?" Martel asked.

"If you are only there to arrange a cessation of hostilities then the most you need to worry about is convincing them that the Alliance does not wish for conflict, and that the Turian POWs are being treated in a way that complies with Citadel conventions." Kravos answered, "If you keep the topic focused on that and make it clear that you are not authorized to negotiate anything beyond the ceasefire you seek then they should accept this and grant it in the interest of preserving life."

Martel nodded and stood up. "In that case I believe that my time should be spent preparing for my date with your Council. We shall be departing within the hour for Citadel space, and you shall have the choice of where we establish contact with your superiors and arrange our little meeting, Admiral Pridius."

"Of course," Kravos rose from his seat. "I'll make sure to maintain contact, and before we leave I'll come to a decision on a specific destination."

"Why aren't we just going to the Citadel itself?" Victoria asked. "If time is of the essence we should just go to this Council immediately."

"We must avoid doing that, because the last thing we want is to throw the Council into a panic." Martel replied, "If we choose to appear at the heart of Citadel space, entering their borders unchallenged and unauthorized and showing off our capabilities we will make our hosts frightened, suspicious and resentful. I am certain your grandfather would have told you this Victoria, had he the chance: people do not like being showed up under any circumstance, and should only be humbled when they truly require it. So we must contact them and arrange our arrival while waiting for their authorization so that they may know we are an agreeable and reasonable people."

"Sounds reasonable," Edward agreed, "A show of power wouldn't endear us to the Council, and that is exactly what we need."

Martel walked towards the door. "So when you are called to present your testimony to the Council you had best keep on your best behaviour. I am willing to return from this so that High Inquisitor Maxson may perform the obligatory lecture for disobeying orders, but I would rather not return so that I may be remembered as the fool who disobeyed orders and had us committed to a war we cannot win."

Xxx

Serpent Nebula

The Citadel, Galactic Communications Hub

March 20th, 2353

Time dilation was an enemy which element zero and quantum entanglement communications had long ago laid to rest, but it still reared its head and interfered with the daily activities of people throughout the Galaxy. To send one message from one system to another required data to be beamed via laser through a miniature mass free tunnel created by an FTL communication buoy to propel transmissions in a process similar to how mass relays propelled ships. It was a design left over from the Prothean Empire and had revolutionized galactic communications, but it still took hours, even days for some messages to be transferred from a world such as Thessia or Sur'kesh to the Citadel.

Trying to get a message from Citadel Space to the Terminus Systems was almost impossible without the Citadel itself, for it had one thing that not even Omega had managed to replicate: the Galactic Communications Hub.

Everyday tens of millions of messages passed through here and were sent on their way to their destination. When a message was transmitted from one planet to its orbiting FTL Comm Buoy it was beamed to a secondary Comm Hub, any number of stations in charge of managing data for whole star clusters. If said message had to reach another cluster it was sent to the Citadel and then to the Secondary Hub of the cluster where the intended recipient lived.

This middle finger to relativity meant several things for the trillions of beings in the known galaxy. Online game servers were restricted to single star systems or clusters, instant messaging between clusters was only possible with a QEC, anything slower would be used with the understanding that one shouldn't expect a response for a few days.

But with this much data being transmitted literally with each millisecond there was also the risk of viruses, illegal transactions and concealed messages by criminal or terrorist organizations. The responsibility of sniffing this discourse out fell to the Citadel Data Corps, which employed tens of thousands from each cluster and worked in association with military, police and civilian organizations.

Unfortunately it was the most boring job in the universe for a young Batarian by the name of Ilen Korth. He had been a fortunate young boy who had been born into the middle class of the Hegemony to parents who had worked for a small but profitable mercenary group, eventually using this to amass enough funds to satisfy the unreasonable fees required for one to immigrate from the Hegemony. Even while living a life that most Batarian children would kill for, he could only complain about how dull and repetitive his well paying job had become.

'Join the Data Corps, manage the Galactic Net and sniff out crimes hidden from the public eyes!'

That had been the call he'd answered eagerly after finishing his education, and he found himself torn between regret and resignation at his circumstances.

"Data package number 454490328 approved for transfer from Argos Rho cluster to Hades Gamma cluster." Ilen drawled, signing off for the thousandth time on a mass of messages he had scanned for viruses or indications of criminal connections.

"Next, data package number 473002177 outbound from Hades Gamma cluster to..."

His blue tinted screen lit up bright red and text flashed across it, making him jump in his seat and adjust his head set as he read the alert.

A priority message had been directed to the Citadel, and he had been randomly selected to answer it since he had been one of many operators in the Hub between finishing on job and beginning the next.

Straightening up, Ilen cleared his throat and then accepted the transmission.

"Citadel Galactic Communications Hub, we are receiving your message. Over." He glanced at the corner of his screen and saw that the message was Turian in origin and flagged for surveillance due to the source being part of the Turian Third Fleet.

He'd wondered why messages concerning the Third had become flagged as of late, but hadn't wondered until now.

"Citadel GCH this is Hierarchy cruiser Valor, commanded by Admiral Kravos Pridius, commanding officer of the Turian Hierarchy's Third Fleet. Over."

Ilen ran a quick check. "Valor, your ID checks out but your rank is listed as a Captain and the current flag officer of the Third as Varis Trisun. Please verify. Over."

"Citadel GCH, I have been promoted recently by Admiral Varis Trisun, previous commanding officer of the Third Fleet, by way of the Rite of Digeris. Admiral Trisun is deceased. Over."

Ilen couldn't deny that this was the sort of interest he had been seeking...but he also couldn't deny to himself that he was nervous.

"Copy that, Valor, I have logged your statement and it shall be transferred to the Turian Hierarchy. What is the nature of your transmission? Over."

"Citadel GCH, I have a priority message for the Citadel Council. Code: Encounter. Over."

Code Encounter...a hostile confrontation with a previously unknown species! Ilen's pulse began to race, but he kept his tone level and his voice clear.

"Valor, Code: Encounter acknowledged. Please state your message and it shall be routed directly to the Council upon the termination of this transmission. Over."

"Citadel GCH, message begins: Third Fleet has been defeated, General Desolas Arteris and Admiral Varis Trisun are dead."

Two of the Hierarchy's most notable flag officers, dead?!

"Hostile entity designated 'Systems Alliance'. Hostilities were initiated by third party. General Arterius authorized and led a full invasion of Systems Alliance territory, resulting in casualties on both sides. Majority of Third Fleet is still intact but held as prisoners of war within Alliance territory. The Alliance is keeping them alive and treating them honorably, and wishes to open diplomatic channel to Citadel and Turian Hierarchy. Message ends. Over."

Ilen couldn't believe what he was hearing. A Turian armada defeated, two star leaders dead, and the newly promoted commander was limping home to convey a request for peace instead of demanding reinforcements. This was something unheard of in his time. None had ever defeated the full might of the Hierarchy, not so severely.

"Valor...message received and rerouted to Citadel Council." Ilen muttered after several moments of silence. "Please stand by for further communications. Over."

"Citadel GCH, I copy. Maintaining position in Aethon Cluster, in proximity to Communication Buoy 2-9. Over."

Ilen cut the link and breathed in. "By the pillars..."

He had his wish, something interesting was finally happening, but that didn't necessarily mean he was going to like it.

Xxx

Citadel Tower

Council Chambers

The debates had been long, but for the Council the matter had been quickly addressed. Instead of weeks of arguing back and forth the outcome of the discussion had been clear from the start, the only issue being how it would be reached. Representatives of all governments affiliated with the Council had been present, voicing the views of their leaders on the matter of Desolas Arterius' rogue fleet.

For the past hour the Council had retreated into their private conference room for one final discussion, reviewing what they had learned from the ships to return from Relay 314 and what could be implied. Now dozens of diplomats gathered along the edge of the Council chamber, waiting in nervous anticipation for the representatives of the three greatest factions in the galaxy to make their return. Turians, Asari and Salarians were the most common, followed by Volus, Elcor and Hanar as well as the odd Batarian. Others such as the Quarians, Krogan and Vorcha were not privileged with positions in the Citadel Tower without special permission.

Silence befell the Council chamber when the three robed figures emerged and took their places on the raised platform behind three podiums.

"The Citadel Council has come to a final decision on the matter of General Desolas Arterius and the Turian Hierarchy's Third Fleet." Councillor Tevos announced, dispersing with the usual formality of calling the room to order first. "After reviewing the evidence surrounding this situation we, as the elected representatives of the Turian Hierarchy, Asari Republics and Salarian Union have decided that the actions of General Arterius contradict the mandate of this Council and all governments affiliated with it."

Councillor Zenthis spoke next. "General Arterius has taken military action against an unknown and unknowing species, declaring war in the name of his people and by extension this Council. Therefore we find his actions to be unacceptable and his judgement to be in doubt, as he has introduced the risk reprisals against all of Council space with his reckless actions."

"From the available information taken from combat data and sworn testimony we have collected three key facts which contribute to our decision." Councillor Zenthis opened his Omni-Tool. "Firstly: Patrol group fourteen of the Third Fleet did come under fire by a hostile force, but this was later confirmed to be separate from the group which the patrol was in the process of making contact with, which also came under fire. This fact casts reasonable doubt on the idea that whatever species or faction existing beyond Relay 314 is in fact completely hostile and that a diplomatic route is out of the question."

"Secondly: Desolas Arterius was fully aware of this fact and chose, in spite of it, to utilize his own authority to initiate a full scale invasion of the space beyond Relay 314. By doing this he has willfully disregarded existing evidence supporting the possibility of potential contact through peaceful means and non-aggressive methods of deducing the guilty party behind the initial skirmish."

"And thirdly: After the return of a portion of the Third Fleet to Turian space, Desolas Arterius did place a request for further support in his unauthorized operations. This, as well as testimony from countless officers and crew personnel among the Third Fleet have verified that Desolas Arterius has engaged in hostilities with a collective of different species, bypassing the leadership of the Turian Hierarchy and this Council."

"With that stated, this Council, acting with the authority granted to it by the Turian Hierarchy, hereby strips General Desolas Arterius of his rank and authority," Councillor Sparatus said, having the decency to not look or sound less than enthused by this executive order. "We also implore the Turian Hierarchy to form a task force to be dispatched with the intent of locating General Arterius and the Third Fleet and intervening in whatever unauthorized military actions they are engaged in. General Arterius is to be arrested on charges of intentionally inciting interstellar conflict and unauthorized aggressive military action. The Third Fleet is to be returned to Turian Hierarchy borders, and a Council Spectre shall be appointed to investigate the occurrences beyond Relay 314."

The mood of the chamber could be described as concerned, intrigued and excited all rolled into one. An event like this shook the usually peaceful foundation that the Council stood on, introducing something new to the usually cyclical day to day life of most citizens in Citadel space. Some politely applauded this announcement regardless of their opinions of it and the assembly was permitted to disperse, returning to their previous activities.

As Councillor Zenthis stepped away from his podium and pondered the idea of retiring from his position at the conclusion of this issue he received a message on his Omni-Tool. When Tevos and Sparatus received a message at the exact same time as him tipped the aging Salarian off that the message was perhaps intended for all three of them, and therefore of high importance.

When he opened his Omni-Tool and scanned the contents of the message he realized just how right he was.

"We're too late." He realized, his face masked with an eerie calmness. "Damn our foolishness, we were too late."

Xxx

End of Chapter

Alright...now, looking back I noted a lot of mistakes I made that need to be addressed.

1) Councillor Zenthis' name randomly changing to Councillor Zenith and back.

2) Admiral Trisun being mentioned as alive in a post-chapter file which states that she had not been extradited after the Battle of Shanxi.

3) General Desolas' initial ship, the Galius, being referred to as the Nova in Fall of Shanxi (Part 6).

4) The Systems Alliance being referred to initially as the Alliance of Nations in Chapter 1: Collision.

These are just a few among many and I apologize for them. The more time that I take between posting chapters, the more time I have to reflect on places where I messed up. Inconsistencies, lapses in logic, convoluted ideas and a thousand other things that I wish I could just go back and fix without taking away time from working on future chapters lay behind me.

I don't say this to try and gain sympathy, I only say it to inform you that I am aware of these mistakes and will attempt to avoid repeating them. I say this because you, as the readers, are the ones who really suffer from these tumbles I experience and I don't like to detract from your experience.

Also, the next few chapters will be shorter and will help to speed things along through negotiations with the Council. You won't have to sit through five to six chapters with over a hundred pages' worth of text of the Alliance playing political cat and mouse with the Council.

Also...for anybody who feels that the Council may have acted in a way that is out of their character...tell me what we actually know about the Council in canon.

1) The Turian Hierarchy would gladly invade and subjugate humanity? WRONG. The Turians were not initially aware that they were facing a new species and saw the First Contact War as a policing action rather than an invasion, and slavery on any level is outlawed in Council Space. Additionally, the only client race the Turians have is the Volus, who voluntarily took this position for the benefits of the Turian Hierarchy's military power. I see a worst case scenario of the First Contact War ending with humanity as a client race which slowly regains independence over time, and the Turians begrudgingly respect them for their fierce resistance, leading to them inevitably letting humanity lead itself again.

2) The Council hates humanity and is devoid of sense? WRONG. In the first game they had no initial evidence of Saren's involvement, and later they only had Shepard's claims of the Reapers to go on with no actual physical evidence until Sovereign showed up. They were foolish to decry Sovereign as a Geth ship, but you have to admit that in real life most politicians and common people would be hesitant to believe something like this. And when the Reapers finally arrived they did what we would do: worry about their own borders rather than lend resources to something that isn't guaranteed to work, and even then over time they all handed over fleets and armies to lend aid to the Crucible and retaking Earth. What you call unreasonable, characters within the series who don't have the benefit of viewing events from our perspective call 'poorly informed choices'.

3) The Council would gladly declare war against humanity simply to force it to join? WRONG. The Council does not rule the species aligned to it, it simply serves to represent the Big Three and mediate between governments while using authority granted to it by those governments, who in turn reap the benefits of this arrangement and submit to rules which all races are bound by. It has never actually declared war in its existence, only reacted to hostile moves by the Rachnii and Krogan and later the Reapers. Even the mere existence of AI wouldn't make them immediately jump the gun because that is simply not in the Council's nature. Their aim is to maintain peace at all costs, not declare war the moment some species whose traditions disagree with their own walks onto the galactic stage.

4) The Council is heavily flawed and has made poor decisions in the past? RIGHT. That's given with any leadership, but you know what else the Council accomplished? When humanity was still waging wars between kingdoms and tribes the Council was experiencing whole centuries which lacked major interstellar conflicts. When humanity had two world wars in the span of a single century the Krogan Rebellion was a footnote in any history book and the last major war to ravage the galaxy. Granted, it could have handled the Krogan dilemma better, but the Genophage actually was the best solution in its time because there weren't influential Krogan like Wrex around. And the Krogan themselves were the best solution to the Rachnii at the time, perhaps more so than the Turians would have been even if they'd met the Council at the time of the Rachnii War. Their only real failure was not forcing the Batarians to drop slavery, and that was only because trying to force the issue would have led to the one thing they were meant to avoid at all costs; even then they still inconvenienced the Hegemony by reducing it to 'a paper tiger', ensuring it didn't have the strength to expand its borders aggressively and weakening it to the point where a fledgling Alliance was able to cow the Batarians in short order.

I'm not saying this to glorify the Council, but to point out that despite how much you might not personally like Sparatus, Valern and Tevos in the games they and their predecessors have done the best of the one job they have: keeping the peace and minimizing the potential for large scale violence between radically different cultures and serving as an impartial voice of reason and authority.