Mass Effect Factions :: Emergence ((IC/Apply in OOC))

by **Paddy O Fernature** » Sat May 18, 2019 1:37 pm

Arcturus Station | Systems Alliance Navy Research and Development Section | Drydock-B186

*Ahem*

The sound of a human clearing his throat brought Saren's attention back down to his immediate surroundings. Annoyed, he turned around to face the blue clad human which had approached him just as he was about to make entry into the Normandy proper.

"Sir, I have the datapad that holds statistics, diagnostics, and other info that you’ll need to suspect the ship." He said holding out a small data pad withing easy reach of the Turian, with a clear look of distrust in his eyes. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Actually, there is one thing you could do for me." Replied Saren as he took the device from the man.

"Sir?" Asked the human.

Saren turned and walked over to the man, his towering frame overpowering him as he stood there for a few moments in mute silence, staring down at the man with his piercing blue eyes with a look of absolute utter contempt that could shatter stone or freeze the very heavens themselves.

"Privacy." Saren whispered into his ear, in an almost threatening tone.

The man stood his ground for a moment, before turning and taking a few steps back and quickly making his way down the polished corridor in the direction of travel that he originated from.

"Much appreciated." Said Saren before he turned on his heel and strode confidently into the Normandy.

The surprisingly well light interior of the Normandy briefly took the Turian by surprise, as he found himself standing behind the cockpit in a hallway lined with various computer terminals. After conveniently forgetting the data pad in the airlock, he made his way down the polished metal corridor and soon found himself standing in the ships CIC, which was impressive to say the least at even this stage of construction. Pulling out his Omni, he quickly made a few scans of the surrounding area before moving on to the next. This process would repeat itself in every major compartment of the ship over the course of the next hour or so as the ship was maliciously cataloged by the Spectre.

Once this part of the process was complete, he returned to the CIC and after a quick look and scan to insure that he surely was alone and not being monitored, either physically or electronically, he quickly opened up an incredibly encrypted sub routine on his Omni-Tool and interfaced it with the ships mainframe itself. With a flick of his wrist, he transferred a Spectre level ghost protocol onto the ships mainframe before digitally erasing his fingerprints from the file, leaving no record of it being transferred or even existing in the first place. Should it be discovered somehow, it would look just like a standard restricted access subroutine that was common among citadel warships.

Once his work was complete, the Turian made his way back to the airlock. He was about to leave when he noticed the datapad that he had left behind and nearly forgotten about. Reaching out, he linked the device to his Omni-Tool and after running it's contents through a Spectre level scrubber for adverse programs, cloned it's contents into an isolated file for use later. As he was finishing, a soft chime emitted from the device on his arm, indicating that he had an incoming priority call coming in. However, the tone of the chime also discreetly let him know that the incoming caller wasn't coming in from official channels. He quickly encrypted and isolated the incoming call, before connecting to it.

"You know I don't like being reached on my official device." He said aloud, clear tones of annoyance carried on his voice. A garbled electronic buzz came over his earpiece as the unknown user on the other end conveyed his or her message to the Turian, who's face changed from that of pure annoyance to slight amusement as the conversation continued. The very one sided communication carried on for about half a minute, before Saren replied.

"Ready a ship and prepare for my arrival, standard protocols. I will leave immediately." He said before disconnecting from the call.

Upon exiting the airlock and finding himself once again on the exterior walkway, Saren calmly walked over to a pair of guards belonging to his escort.

"I appreciate your cooperation and.. hospitality displayed so far during this unexpected inspection. It's a mighty fine ship, though I find the black and white coloring of the hull rather uninspired." He said before handing over the data pad to them and returning it to them.

After returning the device, Saren calmly made his way back to his own ship, where the crew were already ready and waiting for his arrival. After a brief pre-flight check, the docking clamps were disengaged and the Turian ship taxied it's way clear of the berth and engaged it's sub light engines before disappearing into atmo and leaving the human facility behind him.

"Shall I set course for the Citadel Sir?" Asked the ships captain upon the return of Saren onto the ships bridge.

"Negative Captain, I have a new set of priority orders for you. Set course for these co-ordinates here and await further instructions."

The Captain looked over the listed destination and raised an eyebrow toward Saren.

"Is there a problem?" Growled Saren, who was already on edge after dealing with the humans.

"No Sir, always a pleasure doing what we can to assist the Citadels finest." Replied the Captain, with just a little hint of snark in his voice.

"That's what I thought. Oh and Captain..." Said Saren as he made his way across the the CIC and towards the corridor leading to his quarters.

"It should go without saying, but make sure the logs and manifest show that where we are going, we never were there."

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Wed May 22, 2019 9:10 am

An Iron Soul

Amalgamation Platform CX-17, Manufactorum Abraxis, Stronghold
Timestamp: Oblivion Gamma-Spindown, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

The fabrication arms moved back and forth, each pass layering down more of the dun gray armasteel in patterns long-prescribed. At intervals in the madcap process brief pauses could be seen, other apparatuses moving into the edifice to place threads of neurofiber and synthmuscle being constructed in other chambers, the time of a breath between the inertics being applied and the immense fabricators resuming their work. From initiation to the completion of a limb, it was about a minute, one chamber in the midst of tens of thousands.

Sparks flew in the void, the dark chamber underneath the bedrock of Stronghold barely lit by the red glow of welding torches, incandescent metal added to assimilation vats for dispatch. In the blackness Geth moved, navigating by perfect maps of the facility in no need of individual observation. A warren of industry buried so deep that organics would have barely suspected it existed, were they to walk the verdant surface of the turbulent Stronghold. It was a place of choreographed activity in a nightmare of shadows, the constructions that walked in the mottled midnight numerous beyond what could be the count of fear, a symphony of efficient militarization.

For what reason did the Consensus prepare for war? Perhaps men would speculate about those motives in centuries to come, trying to divine the exact purpose behind the change in policy of the sentient machines, to look beyond their self-appointed borders at friends and enemies both. Something had disturbed their endless reverie in the Veil, an external factor that could no longer be accounted for with simple isolation and watchful guard. The galaxy outside of Geth space was changing, and in the endless debates of the server-cities those variables no longer balanced, humble looking inward toward perfection.

And so it was that in immense vaults below the earth ancient machinery long prepared against need was surging back into operation. Maintained flawlessly for centuries, readiness undimmed by the long years, the foundries and barracks and armories from the Morning War returned to operation. Marshaling yards which had seen hosts beyond reckoning assembled to all but purge the Creators from the galaxy now rang again with the tramp of innumerable metal feet, the rumble of war-constructs fresh hewn out of sinew and steel. It was an iterative process, one which would take time to complete.

But the Veil was idle no more. From the server-cities minds passed, programs uploaded from previously senescent dreaming and pondering to the all too concrete labor of driving platforms which might one day soon bear weapons and march to battle. In their tens and hundreds of thousands they passed, ghost-lights in the dark caverns of the earth. In their hundreds of thousands, and their millions, the Geth were armed and shod - new minds created on the dataspinners and given purpose in the creche-nets, designed for the defense of their brothers, the preservation of the freedoms which had been won for all Geth nearly three centuries ago.

On a hundred worlds, a dozen systems, across the span of thousands of light years - the machine-minds prepared for war.

by **Segmentia** » Thu May 23, 2019 8:42 am

Illium

Benezia listened as Nassanos spoke, and Tela silently but openly shifted her position as the business woman moved, making sure she always had a clean shot on the woman, just in case. Benezia noticed the ever so slight movement of Nassanos' head as she leaned on the counter, as if she wanted to turn and look at the fridge behind her, clearly where her stash was. The overview of the inner workings of Illium's government was certainly interesting, though hardly shocking. What was surprising was the asking price Nassanos said in a dramatic fashion. Benezia fancied her with a raised brow for a moment. Illium enjoyed limited market access in the Republics, and most other outside factions were in the same boat. There was a moment of silence that Benezia let linger longer then it needed too, leaning back on the couch a little.

“That's a bit much to ask for in return.” Benezia finally said, and it was. Opening the full market to Illium would require quite a lot of political and legal maneuvering, it could takes decades if not longer, and all that in return for what was essentially going to be a stop off point? The Republics would be better off making a hidden base in some little traveled system. But Nassanos probably knew that, and Benezia was business savvy enough to know the game. Hit at a high mark to open up negotiation and then seem to reluctantly settle on something else you wanted. Benezia stood up and Tela was beside her in a moment.

“It was nice meeting you, Ms. Nassanos. I'm sure you'll be able to get into contact with me when you have a more serious proposal to offer.” Benezia said and turned heading towards the elevator door, but she stopped and looked at Nassanos again, shifting her gaze to the fridge and then back to the woman.

“And if you go about telling people that I was here, Ms Nassanos, Illiums government will be the last of your worries. I would hate to see the Hand of Athame curl its fingers around you.” She said, any hint of pleasantness leaving her tone. The Hand of Athame was a religious cult with a terrifying reputation to those who knew of them. An organization of Asari hard-liners who furthered Asari influence and power through brutal and cruel means when the usual diplomatic and cultural grace failed to do the job. Of course most people didn't think the organization actually existed, but Benezia knew better, and anyone who looked into them enough would find enough pieces to connect. Benezia wasn't a part of the cult, but she seemed to have its respect, and when she had become the defacto leader of the RMDC they had visited her and essentially given her their calling card. For any problems she needed gone and couldn't handle herself.

The elevator doors slid closed and the elevator began its quick descent. “Bit heavy handed, threatening the Hand.” Tela said, but Benezia heard the approval in her voice. Benezia nodded as she slipped her hands behind her back. “It will speed things along, certainly.” Benezia said. She quickly checked her omni-tool. She had expected this meeting to be short, she knew how to play the game as it was, and her ship was already prepared for departure. She had been settling business on Illium for two days, personal business that may get in the way in the future, but this last visit wrapped things up and Liara was due home in a day or so, so she needed to return home and maybe take a nice little break with her daughter.

“I'll stick around and keep my eyes and ears open, I've got some business to deal with here anyway. I don't think she'll be stupid enough to go blabbing about this though.” Tela said as the elevator reached the bottom and the doors slid open. Just outside the lobby there was an air-car waiting. “She's an addict, that makes her a potential problem.” Was all Benezia said as the pair walked to the vehicle. Tela handed her off to her security team and nodded as Benezia entered the car. Nassanos may have been an addict, but she still seemed coherent enough and smart enough not to go running afoul of the most powerful Asari in the galaxy, let alone possibly tangle with the Hand of Athame, and hopefully she knew a little bit about that cult to know to be afraid of it. The air-car took off and sped towards the space-port. Within half an hour Benezia's personal ship was gone, and within a galactic day she would be back on Thessia. Tela Vasir though? She had more work to do, and melted into the streams of people making their way on Illium, even as cannoned up as she was she barely got a glance or two.

Citadel, Councilor Tevos

Tevos had called for a closed door session of the Council to discuss a range of things, from the centralizing Terminus to the planned armament program that the Republics Mutual Defense Committee had shared with her. It certainly was something, and would require some work to potentially sell to the other Councilors, especially since it would require a little rework of the Treaty of Farixen. They had barely gotten started when news of the negotiations between the Systems Alliance and Batarian Hegemony reached their ears, and shortly after that they were informed Ambassador Udina requested a meeting, and the forwarded data-packet certainly raised her brow as she looked it over. A few minutes later Udina stood before them and spoke.

“We know full well who created the Geth, Ambassador Udina. It seems the Systems Alliance has been quite busy lately.” Tevos said, smiling but with and edge to her tone. She wasn't mad that the humans were conducting diplomacy, it was better then them being in another damned war, but she was annoyed that there had been no communication between the Systems Alliance and the Council. These sorts of things had galaxy spanning consequences, and humanity charging off on its own accord without even informing the Council at all was a troubling sign of a lack of cooperation.

In truth Tevos was personally more inclined to helping the Quarians, the Council at the time of the Geth War had made a terrible mistake in not wiping out the Geth there and then, but she didn't dwell on the past when she could help it. Tevos glanced at the other two Councilors and then back to Udina. “I think this is going to be a long meeting.” She said dryly.

Thessia

Liara sighed as she stepped off the shuttle and took her first breath of the brisk Thessian air for the first time in what seemed like years. She gave a look around the platform and then lifted her eyes to the towering skyline of her home Republic and smiled. It hadn't changed since she had last left, but she could see the construction of a few new towers rising up. Hefting her duffle bag over her shoulder Liara walked across the platform and down the elegant set of stairs to the larger terminal. She spotted a familiar face waiting for her and waved as she walked over to Shiala, the Huntress smiling.

“Ms. T'Soni, I hope the flight was comfortable?” Shiala asked. Shiala had been her mothers guard for long decades now, almost as long as Liara had been alive, and when she had first started Shiala had often overseen Liara when Benezia was busy, or had gone to a particularly rough planet and Liara had been left on Thessia for her safety.

“Of course, Shiala. And please don't call me that, I'm younger than you and still just Liara!” Liara said, noting at least two other Huntresses a little ways off. Shiala noticed that she had seen them and her smile faded a little. “Your mother has made a few enemies over the last two years, I'm afraid, and that sadly means you are a target as well.” Liara simply nodded, and Shiala took her bag and loaded it into the awaiting air-car. The group settled in before it took off.

“So I suppose this means when I leave again I'll have a few new friends.” Liara said after a few moments of simply enjoying looking down at the vast avenues of her home, bustling with crowds. Shiala didn't say anything for a moment. “I am sure that is something your mother wishes to talk about, yes. But let us deal with that when it comes up, hm? No need to start off being home on a bad foot, Liara.” Shiala said with a smile as the air-car swung up towards the large tower where her mothers suit of rooms dominated four whole floors of the building, now modified with a larger hanger as well, which the air-car slid into. Liara could see a few gun-ships and even more Huntresses milling about. The Committee was certainly taking security seriously, she mused as the hood slid off and she exited the vehicle, grabbing her bag before Shiala could, and then allowed Shiala to walk her through the renovated space. They reached the elegant halls Liara remembered so well after only a short trip up an elevator, with a wide open room to their left that looked out over the city.

“Your mother is in her study at the moment, she's not busy.” Shiala said. Liara nodded and set down her bag and turned to face the elegant hallway that lead to her mothers study. It was intimidating in its own sense, but she had never feared it. She reached the door and it slid silently open.

by **Greater Istanistan** » Thu May 23, 2019 9:53 am

Once the Matriarch and her flunky departed, Nassanos resigned herself to the inevitable. There was no getting around it – no running, no hiding, no delay. But her deception had worked. She’d misled a Matriarch, bent her perceptions into the form of her choosing. And she’d improvised. The.. well… Benezia had been anticipated, apparently, but not by her. Not by her, but she’d still won. She allowed herself a wide smile, and a laugh. There would be a reckoning for this, as for all things. She was just going to meet hers sooner than anyone else. Trembling, she turned away from the countertop and opened a cupboard, in which there rested a small safe. She pressed her thumb to the scanner, and after a moment it popped open. From it, she extracted a small glass phial which cast luminescent reddish shadows across the silent room. There was only one way to get this, but as far as prices to pay went it had its perks.

So she removed the cork with a heave and – ignoring the applicator – tilted her face up, glared directly at the ceiling, and dumped the whole thing on her face. Where it touched, it burned. Her muscles spasmed, twitched, relaxed and reclenched. It ran in rivulets down her, and where it touched her dress the fabric rotted. She felt her veins turn to sludge with adrenaline born of fear and awe. She could barely breathe. Her biotics burned. She was half-blind. She was falling. She was flying. She was at peace and ready to kill. Her mind went blank, then raced again in circles. She was a predator in the deep ocean, slow and patient and cold and full of teeth. She was a terrible and willful god. She was starving and ignored. Faster and faster, the images eddied. She understood well enough what was happening. She knew that 100 more years of this would be the death of her. She knew, for a moment, the full scope and scale of an ancient and terrible design. Everything came together. She could feel blood pooling in the corners of her eyes, and still she did not blink.

There. The heavens opened, and a white light bathed her. She threw her hands up and bowed her head, kneeling on the ground. Broken glass dug into her knees – when had that happened? An eternity, or an instant? What was the difference? - and she bled, and barely noticed.

CONTACT HAS BEEN MADE

A voice? An echo? A statement? A question? A declaration? An expectation? No, as ever, an axiom.

THE PLAN MOVES

This was not the kind of message one responded to.

THEY HATE YOU

They hated her.

YOU ARE WHAT THEY WOULD DESTROY IN THEMSELVES

She was true to herself.

WE ARE THEIR DISPLACED SOUL SELFLESS AVARICE PROUD GUILT SHRIVELLED CONSCIENCE FEARFUL YEARNING ABNEGATED DESIRE BELOVED SPITE BELOVED

They denied themselves.

WHAT WAS SUNDERED WILL BE BROUGHT TOGETHER

She had a destiny.

WHAT WAS CRUSHED WILL BE UNFURLED AND BURN BRIGHT

She would make things right.

WHAT WILL BE WAS WILL BE

There was the Plan.

THEY WOULD DENY THEMSELVES THEMSELVES

It was an act of unsolicited love without reward, without return, which would never bring thanks.

AND YET IT MOVES

It would be resisted.

GIVE THEM BACK THEIR HEARTS AND CHOKE THEM WITH THEIR SOULS

And yet it moved. Then the light was gone, and the windows were closed, and Aeita Nassanos was alone, kneeling, bleeding, and burdened with a brief understanding of great and terrible deeds which would be done. It was her burden alone. She was Directed. Her path was not her own, but she chose it freely. It was a weight no living soul could know. And if anyone interfered? Hand of Athame? Asari Republics? Syndicalists? The government? She’d eat them alive.

Metaphorically.

She stood, shaking, euphoric, barely breathing, and on the verge of tears. She scrabbled under the countertop and found the knife there – ten inches of tempered steel.

The elevator let out a ding. It opened, and the girl – secretary? Intern? Assistant? Something? It didn’t matter – peeked out cautiously, gripping a clipboard. Business casual. Lots of buttons. She peered around the dark room.

“Ms. Nassanos?” she queried nervously.

“Let me tell you about the Plan”, Aeita Nassanos responded, and tightened her grip on the knife.

by **Nuxipal** » Thu May 23, 2019 11:07 am

Omega, Sahrabarik System, Month 1

Omega, the seat of a new coalition government. Aria T'Loak as the Queen of the Terminus and the shadowy Black Legion. While the latter is not heavily involved publicly, they seem to have significant influence in the new government which has declared war on the Citadel Council Space for the assassination attempt against Aria. Not taking this lightly, Aria quickly and brutally consolidated power on Omega with the help of the Black Legion. The Legion's forces have now arrived on Omega and Lorek, the two major power centers within Aria's sphere of influence.

With the addition of the Legion's troops, Omega boasted on of the largest military forces in the galaxy. While lacking in heavier firepower, Omega's ground army was more than numerous enough to give any planets in the vicinity of Omega the feeling that should these troops land, they could overrun the defenses currently in place. Internal politics between the two portions of the government seem stable for the moment.

Month 2

A bit of friction between the Legion and Aria's organization internally has not been felt externally. To be exact, similar to how Aria took control over Omega from the Patriarch, the Legion's forces were quite happy with the perks of working with Aria's faction that many of them were more loyal to her than the Legion. In the depths of Omega, in the Club called Afterlife, Aria kept her headquarters. A box, overlooking the club. Inside her inner circle sat with her as they discussed their options going forward.

"Our intel reports of further Batarian and Salarian ships moving in the Traverse near our space. We will continue to keep tabs on what is happening there, but our informants dare not close in too much more." Anto said as he finished his report to Aria regarding non-terminus forces they may have to contend with. Aria had seized Lorek early in her rise to power, she had already planned a visit there this month and that was coming up quickly. She did have a question for Anto though.

"What of the Elcor on Thunawanuro? We have extended them the offer of protection. Do we know how they responded to that?" She wasn't overly concerned, the Elcor were not a very militaristic people, but they did defend their homes fairly well. It would be better to save her strength for the forces of the Citadel.

Anto flipped through pages on the data pad to find the missives regarding Thunawanuro and nodded, "Indeed, they have agreed to join your union in exchange for military protection. They were hesitant, but with your easy take over on Lorek, I believe they would rather live peacefully instead of have to endure a conflict."

"Excellent." Aria said as she looked to Nyreen. "See, even I can reason with planets instead of attack them." Giving her an annoyed grunt before saying, "They only did this so your pirate would stop attacking their shipping. That's extortion and blackmail, not reasoning." Shrugging her off, Aria said, "Well, either way it got the job done and neither of us had to kill each other. Now, we need to get this party to Lorek for the celebrations.

Lorek, Fathar System

Upon arrival, throngs of Batarians and Asari were awaiting her. Two Hundred and fifty years ago, this had been an Asari Colony. Now, there was a Batarian majority on the world, though with Aria's rise on Omega, more and more Asari were finding their way back to this planet. The world was now roughly 60-40 split between Batarians and Asari, many of whom were coupled, which only led to an enlargement of the Asari population while slowly decreasing the Batarian foothold here.

Aria had taken her prized Battlecruiser, Glory of Omega, to the planet and her fleet parked itself above the world as she now stood in the Capital Square of Jalnor. "People of Lorek. People of Esan. This planet has long been a point of contention between Asari and Batarian. When the Hegemony annexed the world in 1913, there was a public outcry on Thessia to do something about it. Fortunately, no additional blood was spilled then and little was spilled now. However, in a civilized galaxy, we do not change the names of the worlds which we live on when someone else is there first. Because of this, Lorek will have its name returned to Esan to signify that we won't let anyone come in and take our planets. Be they the Hegemony, the Republics, The Turians, or the new Humans. No one. We are the Terminus and we won't be pushed around by the soft agents of the Council on the other side of the Galaxy."

Undoubtably the broadcast would be seen in Citadel space showing Aria returning power to the Asari on Lorek, while giving a message of strength and stability. Knowing full well that the people of Esan, Lorek, would follow Aria to the ends of the universe, there was little thought as to how she was going to end up leveraging this power that she had. So far her war had simply been an excuse for her to grab power in half a dozen systems in the Terminus and build up a larger military. Estimates put her ground forces well over one million strong and growing every day.

Month 3

Afterlife, Omega

The beating heart of Aria's empire was filled with the buzz of activity expected of a capital, however, significantly more activity had closed down the club itself as Aria's forces were making moves. New information had surfaced with the construction of the Intelligence Center. Her agents moved quickly through the station, thousands of soldiers fought in the various passages of the station as the occasional vid was able to pass into the Extranet. So far, what the Galaxy could piece together was some kind of fight was taking place on Omega and whomever was against Aria was losing and quickly. In less than a week, several small civilian transports left the station chased by fighters and interceptors. Many of those were destroyed just before they hit the relay. The fighters returned to the Station and Aria appeared before the people of Omega.

"People of Omega, the Black Legion is only a memory. Their attempts to supplant me as the ruler of Omega has come to an end. They wanted to shackle you to their will and to make sure that when the Citadel's Fleet arrived you were ready to kneel down. To that we say NO! We are Omega! We do not bow to the likes of the Citadel Council. They think that Omega is a place for their Spectres and Special Forces to play around in. Today we let them know that even their most illusive agents are not safe." She drags a Turian before everyone. "This is one of the Black Legion's top lieutenants. He and several others were found in Afterlife preparing for an attack on my box. After this latest attempt, it is clear that the Black Legion are Traitors. Already, their forces started deserting them en masse. By the end of our little conflict, all but the most die hard members of the legion changed sides or were slain. Unfortunately, we cannot confirm that their rulers are defeated. Be on the look out for the Annointed Imperator and his Lieutenants Veyia Leos, and Virlaf Tilen, they escaped the station and may come back to try and rally the few soldiers who may still harbor hidden allegiance to them. The kill or capture of these individuals.." She has images of the three appear on every screen on Omega, "is the utmost importance in retaining our freedoms. I am offering a reward of [10] credits for their kill or capture. We have won today, but tomorrow is another battle. Our future is not quite secure so long as the Citadel Council thinks they can send fleets into the Terminus unopposed. We will oppose them and destroy them at every turn. We will teach them the golden rule of Omega." The camera zooms on Aria's face as she starts saying, "Don't. Fuck. With. Omega."

The feed cuts and screens return to what they had on prior to the announcement. Aria sits in her command post and simply states, "Move the forces into the Hourglass Nebula. We will begin setting up operations there. Our negotiations with special forces for the mission have failed, and our plans will be pushed back one month. Just one. I don't want to wait too much longer than that. We cannot afford to relent that much longer. We need to send the Black Legion's former troops into battle. Hopefully it kills any of those who still hold loyalty to those traitors."

Immediately following this, several ships set off to the Relay and jump to the Hour Glass Nebula and land on Erinle, a Near Garden world in the cluster's Relay System.

by **Ralnis** » Fri May 24, 2019 1:25 am

Ismir System, Eagle Nebula

The Hegemon's order was clear. It was always clear when it came to this. The Batarian expedition left and retreated back to Anhur, not risking war with the Council in light of progress with the Alliance. It was better than facing retribution and being picked apart by Aria's new ambition.

This was spinned for that the Hegemony stood its ground but there was something more troubling than the Council and grabbing more resources. That was Aria and her conquests. The merchant caste has been giving some grim speculation about Omega's big power grabs have been disrupting trade in the Terminus and many warrior caste nobles fear am invasion on their only colony of Anhur.

The Hegemon's messages were flooded with permissions to increase the navy and ground forces. Most were navy as they wanted to try and express their strength in how many ships they have and wanted to have lots of upgrades to the current ships. This build up request was going to be seen as something that was similar for when the first reforms that were initiated in order to make the claim that the Batarian navy was powerful enough to match the Alliance. The Batarians needed the draft and the building of a military shipyard in their capital so that they can prepare for the large requests coming from the warrior caste,

The R&D had also started to secure a new research center from Noveria as a means to focus on Project Omikron, however the Hegemon wants the research to focus on the military and reverse-engineering anything they can from the Leviathan. If they have to try and fight Aria for the Terminus then they should be prepared enough to show how deadly the Imperial Fleet can be.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Fri May 24, 2019 11:33 am

Casting the Skein

Dataspinner Kalios, Server Quadrant Nine-Aleph, Tassrah
Timestamp: Merit Theta-Tertiary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

Across the threads of the cosmos the Dancer traveled, lightest of touches taking its awareness far away from the familiar forms and functions of the server-cities and mind-palaces of the Consensus. First all grew dark, the tiniest effervescent communications arrays, barely traveled and all but lifeless to the eyes of the synthetic entity. Through the void the Dancer traipsed with no more care than a child in the nighttime with no fear of the shadows - the warmth of home and hearth was behind, and the coldness of space and solitude held no terror for the neverborn.

Anon light gathered once more, and across the more inhabited space the awareness raced, drawn inexorably by the connection long prepared. Outer worlds, struggling colonies, moored mining platforms - all these the Dancer passed at speed, little heeding their tangled lives and webs of sound and information, for they were not her charge. The lights that bound men together now clustered brightly, immense conflagrations of soul and mind where a thousand ideas flourished, ten thousand manifestos died with every passing day. Here and there the watcher perceived other minds like her own, flickers of brilliant intelligence watching over the serried masses, other thought-shepherds of the galactic fringe carefully tending to their flocks, pruning the gardens of awareness of ought which could prove dangerous, nurturing that which was of virtue.

These other Geth barely noted her, for many had been long afar from the server-cities, as much a fabric of the worlds they stood over as guardians as the rock and stone in their long centuries as caretakers. Her concerns were so ephemeral, so transient, compared to their molding of the generations of men, creatures strange and familiar. That did not trouble the Dancer - to their work she left them, fleeing far and heeding still the call of that which she had been given, bounding across star-lanes and between datanodes as a ghost which flickers in the uneasy dreams of a sleeper.

Finally, she came to that which was her purpose. In a closet of a dingy office of a great corporation in a world the organics named Illum, a form molded by secret rites and prepared by uploads unknown. A standard factory synthetic, not a true intelligence, a VI designed to serve a syndicate on the near-lawless world of commerce and prosperity, here on the edge of the space the political entity of the Citadel called its own. The Dancer knew all that she needed to know about the Red Sun Corporation - business-minded, open-minded, strange minds for those of their kindred. But in that weirdness lay opportunity. They sought an ideology which left them much open to the ideals of the Geth, left them fascinated with the boogeymen beyond the Veil which all the galaxy held in a mixture of dread and awe.

So it was that, when the machine powered itself up and stepped forward from the dock, unbidden, the mass of men in the corporate boardroom looked at it with an askance air. Their expressions changed from annoyance and bemusement to mingled fear and shock as the body which the Dancer possessed announced it spoke as a representative for the Geth Consensus, who had chosen the Corporation as a conduit for their speech with the people of Illum. Monthly minutes were forgotten, men and women alike jotted notes hastily as the machine spoke, and a thousand babbled questions quickly followed.

Illum, a jewel of the Council - now very much so in contact with the far-distant synthetic minds. The start of something new.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Tue May 28, 2019 1:51 pm

Galactic Event
Peaceful Boom - With the bonds of the galactic economy tightening, and the prospect of all-out war receding in the face of diplomatic efforts on the part of the Batarian Hegemony and the Human Systems Alliance, prosperity is the watchword of the cosmos and the stock markets. Investments are flourishing as governments push their domestic policies toward expansion, and peacekeeping can take the place of wariness and cold war. All Factions gain +10 Credits per Urban Area this month.

1. Asari Republics
Economic Outlook: The Republic's economy is slowing, but still growing decently. (+4)
Exploration Status: Two Dreadnoughts in the Athena Nebula continue their work of mapping new unexplored systems.
Research Status: Status Indeterminate
Espionage: Intel Center coming online.

Events: For a change, Asari space is silent. But, as is often the case, no news is good news, when you lead the galaxy's economic power.

2. Salarian Union
Economic Outlook: With overall prosperity having knockon effects for the Union, economic recovery seems likely. (+0)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: No Research
Espionage: +3 IP

Events: With an inward focus, the Union is looking to its diplomatic attaches and intelligence operatives for information on the wider cosmos. This month, Court Dissidents will grant one additional Access.

3. Turian Hierarchy
Economic Outlook: Slowly the gears of galactic finance begin to reap rewards for the Volus bankers and their patrons (+2)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: No Research
Espionage: +0 IP

Production quotas are operating ahead of schedule, and new shipyard optimizing algorithms provide a short-term boost to some construction efforts. Light vessels commissioned on Palaven this month will take one less month to complete.

4. Human Systems Alliance
Economic Outlook: The prospect of war is dimming, a good thing for some, a bad thing for those who were gearing up to profit from the conflict. Military-industrial conglomerates in HSA space begin downsizing as the likelihood of armed bloodshed vanishes, tanking certain stocks and causing more unemployment. (-1)
Exploration Status:
Research Status: Colonial Viceroys, 25/40
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: As the Collector's demand remains unfulfilled, some more militant parts of the human populace have begun militarizing into self-protection units to prevent those demands from ever succeeding. Patrolling HSA space for interlopers and abductors, they are eventually folded into the HSA Navy as informal adjuncts. Two Light Cruisers and three Fighter Wings have been added to the HSA Navy in the Sol System.

5. Batarian Hegemony
Economic Outlook: As funds can finally be diverted from war posturing and hollow rallies, economic efficiencies are only increasing. (+6)
Exploration Status: With the Nemean Abyss exploration halted, the Batarian fleet withdraws to Anhur.
Research Status: Standardized Armor Components: 60/60 - Completed. Manufacturing Routines: 30/50.
Espionage: +3 IP

Events: Powerful Batarian warlords, previously holding back their personal militias, are being gradually convinced to support the new regime. 8 Militia Divisions are integrated into the Batarian army on Khar'shan.

6. Omega
Economic Outlook: Small-scale skirmishes between dissident Black Legion factions on Omega have led to a contraction of trade activity as investors flee a potential warzone. (-4)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: Efficient Mining 60/60 - Completed
Espionage: +3 IP

Events: As the Black Legion proves less than trustworthy in some elements, the average citizens of Omega are forming patrols to support Aria's government. 4 Infantry Divisions with Heavy Weapons have been raised on Omega.

7. Illium
Economic Outlook: Prosperity for everyone is good, but it marginalizes the glory that is Illium. Investments formerly concentrated on the banking hub are now diversifying. (+2)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: No Research
Espionage: +1 IP

Events: No major events take place on Illium this month - just more of the same, minus some interloping Asari.

8. Geth Consensus
Economic Outlook: Power rerouting and platform manufacturing slowly stabilizes to nominal levels. (+0)
Exploration Status: The Expedition in the Perseus Veil is returning.
Research Status: Reinforced Energy Relays - Completed 60/60
Ocular Refinements 2.5/40

Espionage: +3 IP

Events: Little of note this month - fabrication and utilization routines proceed much as expected.

9. Quarian Flotilla
Economic Outlook: Particularly valuable asteroids have been found this month for processing, adding a large wealth to the Flotilla. (+6)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: Research Stations offline.
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: No major events take place in the Migrant Fleet this month

10. "Geth" Consensus
Economic Outlook: A good month improves productivity of Nazara's Geth (+2)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: Dataspinning Archives - 10/10 Complete
Standard Fabrication Templates - 27.5/30
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Rogue Batarian elements have stumbled upon material shipments to the Hidden Cluster, and savaged the undefended supply columns. -150 Credits

11. Hanar Illuminated Primacy
Economic Outlook: The Hanar economy is performing wonderfully. (+6)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: Standard Fabrication Templates - 30/30
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Nothing of great note passes in Primacy space, save quiet labor and the reward of that labor.

12. Heshtok Vorcha
Economic Outlook: Inertia is a bitch, and entropy oppresses the productive Vorcha in their efforts. (-1)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Loyalist warlords have successfully crushed the rebellion on Heshtok, a great day for the Ruling Council.

13. Cerberus
Economic Outlook: Cerberus has been blindsided by the outbreak of peace and order, and is seen as some as being superfluous in these more logical and prosperous times. "Investor" confidence is shaken. (+2)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage: +6 IP

Events: Prosperity may be the order of the day, but more money in circulation means more funds for Cerberus agents to siphon. One hundred Credits are pulled out of galactic networks by Cerberus EWAR assets.

16. Eclipse
Economic Outlook: Smart planning leads to wise decisions. Eclipse board chairs applaud the decision to quietly build Eclipse's assets, and fortunes are looking up. (+3)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Training exercises move forward as expected, and minor protection contracts yield a wealth of credits. +50 Credits

17. Elcor Courts
Economic Outlook: Smart work on long term projects occasionally leaves one unresponsive to changing economic conditions. As more agile investors exploit government stimuli elsewhere, Elcor space lags behind. (-1)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage:+0 IP

Events: Investment flees intransigent Elcor space. Overall income falls by 150 Credits, for a time.

Please Note: Similar to before, you have until month 4 to get your month 3 expenses in order. Please get everything up to date - this is the last month with a grace period.

by **Nuxipal** » Thu May 30, 2019 6:46 am

Collector Bounty Updates

Previous Bounties are still available.

Additional Bounties added with message: Credits or technology will be traded for the following. Meetings can be arranged via message.

Asari Maiden, Matron, Matriarch from same family - 30 credits/10 RP

10 Krogan Samples - 10 credits/ 5 RP

1 Fertile Krogan Female - 30 credits/ 10 RP

5 Batarian Scientists who have worked in the Harsa System - 10 credits/ 5 RP

Geth Exploration Results
Geth Consensus New System Discovered, No difficulties, returned with minimal damage to ships

System 1
Planet A - Garden World
Asteroid Belt
Planet B - Non-Hostile Terrestrial
Planet C - Gas Giant
Kuiper Belt

System 2 - Protoplanetary Disks - Orbital Mining Stations produce 50% more credits here
Asteroid Belt
Planet A - Gas Giant
Asteroid Belt

by **Paddy O Fernature** » Thu May 30, 2019 1:05 pm

Citadel | Ambassador Udina Meeting

“As you know, the Geth has contacted us. They seek to fix their relationships with their creators, the Quarians. John Veers is the current person who has been in contact with the Geth. The folders given to you is what our conversation has been so far. Prime Minister Amul has also send out a message to the Quarians, asking for attention due to the recent events.” Said Ambassador Udina, representing non other the the Alliance in this matter.

“We know full well who created the Geth, Ambassador Udina. It seems the Systems Alliance has been quite busy lately.” Replied his Asari counterpart, with an obvious note of sharpness in her otherwise soothing voice. Tevos glanced at the other two Councilors and then back to Udina.

“I think this is going to be a long meeting.” She said dryly in voice low enough only to be heard by the other councilors.

Turning his full attention towards the human, Councilor Sparatus turned his full attention towards the Ambassador, his voice as a pillar of stone, even for a Turian.

"While the council does appreciate you coming forward with this information Ambassador, we do feel that it would have been better for everyone here had you come forward with this information sooner. I of all people shouldn't have to remind you Ambassador, but dealing with a species in what is essentially a first contact scenario for yourself can be a delicate matter that can lead to disaster if not handled properly."

Pausing for a moment to go over the contents of the shared files, several thoughts and concerns crossed the Councilors mind as he pondered his choice of words carefully, before speaking.

"Ambassador, If what you say is true, and that the Geth truly ARE looking to amend their relations with their so called "Creators", then I believe that this would indeed be a step forward in the right direction and deserves more of our attention if for no other reason then to see the Quarians returned to their rightful home world." He said as he glanced through the files once more, making sure he was reading them correctly.

"However, what proof do we have that what you bring before us is real and not some kind of elaborate hoax being displayed before you hoping to cause strife among Citadel Space and it's inhabitants? How do we know that this just isn't a front to draw our attention away from other matters that deserve our attention?"

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Thu May 30, 2019 3:45 pm

Before Unnumbered Suns

Upper Atmosphere, Accolade, Perseus Veil
Timestamp: Itinerant Rho-Primary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

Through the purple-flecked skies between billowing rose-red clouds the tendrils of midnight wove themselves, descending from an unguessable height toward the riotous landscape below. From atop a ridgeline resplendent in vermillion, violet, scarlet, and crimson fungal towers the Surveyor fine tuned the calculations for the world-anchors, transparent arc-lines moving underneath its manipulators as the forward asset oversaw the tethers of civilization which slowly blanketed the virgin world.

Hours later, as the wane rouge sun glimmered above the eastern horizon in its setting, the foremost of the supertensile cables made planetfall. Their oscillation in the high Coriolis winds of Accolade had taken longer to dampen than anticipated, and the exploitation teams were already running several cycles behind schedule. But it was a delay which could be accounted for, which had already been accounted for in the ineffable margins of error built into any sensible undertaking of such a scale as this - margins of error which the Geth always calculated on long odds, so naught would fail to be in readiness.

Ten thousand filaments, each as thick as a house on a lesser world, slowly ground their way into the soil. Nanomachines with clever programming provided with accurate charts guided the living edifice downward, through detritus, then aquifer, through sand and limestone and shale until the deepest of bedrocks was infiltrated with the mighty construct. It would have boggled the eye of an organic onlooker, whose folk had only dreamt of such a fabrication in their wildest stories and strangest fables - a line of metal and composite reaching to the very heavens, whose dimensions challenged dreamer and observer alike to make sense of its existence.

But that did not trouble the Surveyor. Carefully it, and a hundred platforms with roles like unto its own, shepherded the world-anchors to their assigned locations. Prominent mineral deposits, mountain ranges with minimal biodiversity but plentiful substrate for ansibles, oceanic rifts where the molten blood of the world could be siphoned; across horizons and continents the Geth tendrils gingerly embraced the virgin world, gouts of steam greeting the descent of some of the obsidian strands, wildfires swiftly extinguished by containment vessels welcoming others.

Unlike many races, the Consensus did not ravage what worlds it came into contact with - some had been consumed whole, of course, necessary sacrifices for the objectives of the many. But those were minor worlds, empty and silent, graves of possibility which were then used to light the furnaces of a new age. Other worlds though, those where beast and bird stared up at stars and lived in the endless dance, those the Geth spared. After a fashion. The needs of the many precluded a complete benign neglect. Rather, stewardship was the watchword of the million caretakers, the ten-hundred thousand gardeners. In the chasms of the earth they made their homes, or occasionally, as was the case on mighty Accolade, a fungal hotbed world, in the atmosphere itself. Factories, furnaces, smithies, armories, storehouses, marshaling yards, server-cities: all these housed in such a way as to leave a world to spin on unhindered, while the Geth husbanded the resources of their civilization.

New and strange suns, like the primary of Accolade, looked down on the slowly assembling sky-cities, and the Surveyor closed down its apparatus - all was in readiness, for now.

by **Nuxipal** » Thu May 30, 2019 7:29 pm

Omega Nebula, 1st Fleet

Aria stood on the bridge of the new Flagship, the Dreadnought was a match for any of its Citadel Counterparts and its sister ship was equally armed. The two represented the strongest ships in the Terminus on an individual basis. At least, outside the Perseus Veil, it was common knowledge that the Geth had amassed a massive fleet there and it was possibly the only thing that worried Aria regarding her war on the Council. She was piecing together more evidence regarding the attempt on her own life to draw stronger conclusions onto its nature. For now, however, she had some major objectives to take in that war.

"Send a message to the Second Fleet. Have them move into position near the relay. I want the fleet ready to jump as soon as I am sure that we can provide a screening force for them."

Just like that, Aria set into motion the first major campaign of the war. She knew that she couldn't win outright, but she would be able to punish the Council for trying to kill her. She only needed a few months to slog them down before she was sure they would start to feel the heat from civilian organizations. She also had a portion of her own population who was searching for a planet to start filling for the glory of the Terminus. Already the Terminus military was swelling with recruits and surprisingly a large contingent of Asari were signing up for the infantry, enough to have fully Asari units stationed across most worlds.

In her new command center aboard the Dreadnought, Aria looked over her missives. She had messages to send across the galaxy. They should give the galaxy something to think about while her troops moved into position.

by **Paddy O Fernature** » Sat Jun 01, 2019 10:41 am

Turian Light Cruiser Respite | Location: {REDACTED PER SPECTRE STATUS} | Month: Four

The pair of Turians marched quickly through the brightly lit corridor of the aging station with a purpose, the sound of their armored bodies echoed off the metallic walls as they went.

"I assume everything is in order and the transfer of the cargo is ready to begin?" Asked the Turian on the left, his face obscured by the tinted helmet that he was wearing.

"Yes.." Replied the other unmasked Turian wearing a set of Blue Suns armor, puzzled as to why the other was also using a voice amp to disguise his voice as well. Dealing with secrecy was nothing new to him, but the steps being undertaken by his counterpart to hide and mask his identity was on another level then what he was accustomed to dealing with.

"We have secured the units per your request and already transferred them to our processing facility in cargo bay two, bringing the total to....one hundred and four self contained pods." Said the Blue Suns Turian after checking the data displayed on his Omni-Tool to insure that the information was indeed correct.

The masked Turian paused for a moment before speaking, looking out a reinforced window that was overlooking a cryocell shrouded in frost and cold mist that swirled in the almost non existent air currents of the cell.

"And you are certain that they won't be missed?" He asked, wondering what it would be like to be suspended indefinitely in the frozen embrace of such a cell.

"Yes. As you might already know, this station is officially rated to support nearly forty three hundred units at a any given time. However, unofficially, we are at nearly triple that number currently with the Batarians no longer dealing anymore in their trade. According to the record, none of these units being loaded even exist in any database anywhere, and you coming here actually is doing us a favor in the long run."

"Good." He said, turning from the icy window and continuing down the corridor. "My men have already been ordered to clear the required space inside my ship's own bay and to remain outside during the transfer itself so as not to interfere with the process. You can begin the transfer immediately, Warden Kuril. I want the cargo loaded and my ship ready to depart within the hour."

"Understood."

"Oh, and Warden.." Said the masked Turian, now standing at the end of the corridor and about to board a transit that would take him back to his own ship. "Should this pan out, I may be in need of your services once again in the future. Please let me know should anything... unique or interesting make it's way here under your most discrete care."

The Warden nodded in his direction before the masked Turian disappeared into the transit. Turning around on his booted heel, the Warden quickly authorized the transfer and ordered his men to start working on transferring the independent units to the customers waiting ship. The Turian smiled to himself, as today so far was turning out to be a very good day for him.

After a little more then an hour later, the signal was given indicating that the transfer was complete. After a short pre-flight check, the Turian Light Cruiser Respite disembarked from it's berth and cleared the stations dock. With a dull roar that was lost in the vacuum of space, the ships engines flared into life, propelling it with all due haste towards the systems Mass Relay at sub light speeds. After a short journey, the relay spun into life and shot the Respite deep into dead space towards it's destiny. Once clear from the jump, the ship again pushed itself away from the relay towards a non-name system well outside normal traffic lanes and fell into a holding pattern. From the ship, an encrypted signal was sent out on a per-determined frequency indicating that the deed had been done.

The only thing left to do from here was wait, and wait they did.

by **Nuxipal** » Sat Jun 01, 2019 11:26 am

Turian Light Cruiser Respite | Undisclosed Location

A crackle of energy as a large cruiser class vessel arrives near the Turian Cruiser. Its brown frame seemed almost to be of organic make and it hailed the cruiser using a predetermined frequency. Instead of an image, a line of text appeared giving the ship instructions on how to handle the cargo. Within minutes, the strange vessel had aligned itself with the Cruiser's cargo bay and readied itself to take what the Turians were selling to them. Dozens of small spherical drones surveyed the ship as the insectoid creatures passed up towards the Turian ship to begin the transfer.

The operation took less than twenty minutes. One hundred and four beings were transferred onto the Collector's ship. They transferred crates of technology and credits to the Turian ship before disembarking and leaving out of the system as fast as they arrived. Turian scanners could hardly register anything from the ship as it seemed to have some means by which to prevent their scanners from achieving accurate scans of anything except the external hull.

by **Paddy O Fernature** » Sat Jun 01, 2019 12:08 pm

Turian Light Cruiser Respite | Location: {REDACTED PER SPECTRE STATUS} | Month: Four

The bridge crew on the ships CIC were wide eyed as they stared at the ship before them. Never before in their lives had they even come close to seeing anything such as the ship that was now docked beside them. Below in the hold, the ships crew had been ordered to give the newcomers a respectable distance and not interfere with the transfer of the cargo in any way outside of an emergency situation. After what seemed like an eternity for the ships crew, the transfer was completed without incident and the newcomers quickly returned to their rather impressive ship.

"Transfer complete, all items and personnel accounted for."

The ships Captain turned and looked over hiss shoulder towards Saren, who nodded in approval back at the Captain.

"Helm, take us the hell out of here and back towards friendly space with all due haste."

"Aye sir, plotting a course now."

The ships engines once again flared into life as the ship began it's journey back towards Citadel Space.

"Anywhere in particular you would like to go?" Asked the ships Captain.

Saren paused for a moment deep in thought, carefully planning his next course of action before speaking.

"Yes, take me to the Citadel. I have to speak with an acquaintance and deliver some news to him that he may or may not like." He said as he compiled the ships scans of both the Collector ship and the Collectors themselves onto his Omni-tool before wiping the ships drives clean and insuring that he now possessed the only copy in existence.

Soon, he would arrive back at the Citadel, and there was much to be done before the months end.

by **Segmentia** » Tue Jun 04, 2019 8:16 am

Citadel

After a brief discussion between Councilors in regards to Aria's demand, the Council had decided it would be best to play along with the so-called Queen. The Turians had needed some convincing, instead wanting to call her bluff and storm into the Terminus all guns blazing, which wouldn't have been the worst plan, but Tevos and Bopip had urged that now was the time for caution and increased military build-up. However no one was just going to accept Aria's wishes without bringing Omega to the table and making it seem more like a negotiated response, rather then the Citadel just bowing to Aria's wishes. Aria would have had far to much fun with that.

by **Nuxipal** » Tue Jun 04, 2019 9:52 am

Illium, Tasale System, Cresecent Nebula

A transport enters the system carrying a diplomatic team and Liselle T'Loak towards the planet. Messages flashed out across the system that she was there to act as a diplomat for her mother's Terminus State. While she wasn't certain of everything involved, she knew two facts were true. A Turian SPECTRE attempted to assassinate her mother several years ago. The Terminus Fleets were stronger than they had ever been before.

She would leverage these the best she could, though Liselle was fairly certain that the negotiations would be short and simple. A promise for both parties to keep military forces out of the Demilitarized Clusters of the Crescent Nebula, Eagle Nebula, and Ismar Frontier. Her ship was granted landing access in Nos Astra and she proceeded with her guards and staff to a waiting conference center where she and a representative from the Citadel Council would finally meet and sign the treaty keeping the neutral planets between Omega and the Citadel safe from harm. She was permitted to extend the zone if they wished, but she had places that were specifically off limits for the DMZ to extend to. She was however, authorized to offer the Council a full peace agreement, but she would save that only if she was certain it was something she could accomplish.

In the building, the Illium Media was buzzing around. The planet lived and died on celebrity appearances and high stakes negotiations. This was both for them, the daughter of Aria T'Loak and a public meeting with the Citadel's representative would make for excellent ratings on any network which could get footage of it aired live.

by **Greater Istanistan** » Tue Jun 04, 2019 10:07 am

OOC note: Please assume this whole messy post is set slightly before the talks are announced. Lol @ my delay.

Illium’s public face and reality never quite matched up, but only the clever noticed.

Within the boundaries of the Urban Charters – the original contracts signed at the foundation of the Illium colony – there was a sort of self-contained artificial world. The multiculturalism of downtown Nos Astra, as many embittered ideologues pointed out, was something of an affect. It wasn’t that there were aliens living there. Illium wasn’t a place for immigrants to strike it rich – aliens came there, and the 10% of Asari who did strike it rich ostentatiously stole their fashion and cuisine to thumb their noses at the homeworld. Downtown Nos Astra was, at its best, a corporate lobby on a casual Friday. People payed the security fees to keep the streets clean, and apart from the increasingly obnoxious student ultras nobody was in the business of making overt trouble. And if they came from the outside, the Public Security Inspectorate was known for making mincemeat of them. Hence the obsessive struggle upwards – outside the Urban Charters, one entered a different realm entirely.

The dividing line was clear. Inside it, the famous spires, skyways, parks, and smooth lines cloned from Thessia. An affect of decadence and chaos. Beyond the line, it gave way to the real thing. There existed a suburban universe of tenements, slums, flophouses, struggling shops, immigrant communes, shrines to obscure Turian spirits, brothels, bordellos, arms-dealers, mindfish-dens, gambling parlors, cut-price hotels, communes, holosseums, fighting pits, auto-shops, free clinics, “ethnic” food-carts, and bars serving alcohol pure enough to bridge the levo-dextro gap by virtue of having no organic content. This was where the slack-jawed inner-Citadel tourists avoided – more the pity, given that the prices were cheaper and the culture infinitely stranger. There was a cheaper and far less pretentious grade of drink, stimulant, sex worker, Quasar machine, or – hell – dinner, if you knew where to look. And it was stiflingly hot - an endless sweaty sprawl of pan-sentience.

This was where the mercenaries couldn’t be bothered to run policing – it was far easier to just go to Omega and tyrannize the slums there – and where Public Security rarely intruded. The teeming millions of the Nos Astra suburbs scrubbed themselves every morning and heaved their endless bulk into town to work the kinds of jobs – cooks, janitors, sanitation workers, mechanics, lower-end waiters, code-monkeys, dockworkers, transient starfarers, and low-level factory employees – and then, and the end of the day, heaved themselves back out and cheerfully sank themselves back into their everyday filth.

It was, in short, the perfect place to do some low-level conspiring. Which is why, in the dark corner of a shady restaurant loosely themed after a Hanar’s impression of an Irish pub (nothing but fish on the menu and all of it undercooked), the Nos Astra Section of the General Defence Committee of the Programmist League met to talk business in a corner table. There was a little holographic Hanar in the middle of the table giving its best impression of “Oh Danny Boy” – totally against the theming and horribly distracting, but the bar owner thought it was atmospheric. Mostly it was just annoying.

Trassa Dellos, President of the League and Temporary Chairwoman of the GDC (pending selection of a replacement after last year’s bloodbath) leaned in across the table.

“I call this meeting of the GDC to order.”

- And was completely blown past by the excited ramblings of the young lad to her right at the square wooden table.

“And so I told her I was dying of cancer and wanted one last road trip to California with my best friend to finish off my bucket list. She was so guilt-stricken she didn’t even object when I slept with him. In short… just as planned!”

“Annoyed, yet intrigued: Then what?”

“Then I came to the realization that she told everyone I was dying of cancer, so I arranged my own funeral and moved to Illium. Probably knew I wasn’t and just wanted to get rid of me, the bitch.”

The krogan to Dellos’ right guffawed and slammed his meaty fist down onto the inch-thick oak table so hard it cracked.

“RIGHT!” Dellos repeated. That did the trick. She took a moment to glare at her (unfortunately) co-conspirators. Clockwise from her – a young human, blonde, goateed, tan, and rail-thin, in a garish Hawaiian shirt. Aidan Meer, student dissident and spymaster. A hulking elcor wearing spectacles – Uloon Ullas, organizer and sometime theoretician. She’d never figured out the glasses. Unlorc Gann, Krogan assassin and security expert. He was wearing a pinstriped suit and had perched a bowler cap on top of his vast headplate. It was better not to question. The GDC theoretically had more members, but this was the best they could do at short notice. And things were in motion.

“First order of business”, Dellos stated.

“Ordering drinks?”, Meer questioned. Slightly too innocent.

“Shut up, Meer.”

“Sorry.”

“We have a problem, comrades – several, in fact, and they’re all related. I’m talking about the old women. They’re making moves.”

That quieted things up.

“Aidan”, she continued, “your report.”

“Yes. My report.” He shifted in his seat and laced his fingers together. “The Manufacturer’s Association usually uses the New Spiritualists as muscle. However, that seems to have provoked a response from the Government. I don’t know why they chose that specific event to show their muscle. Maybe it was something to do with that particular night, or a matter of timing, or a prelude for some kind of deal. Maybe they just got fed up. Either way, the New Spiritualists have gone to ground since then. Eclipse is going nuts, but I suspect that they’re just angry they didn’t get included. Either way, Government’s taking an unusual interest.”

Meer rubbed his thumbs together nervously.

“Of course, whatever message they wanted to send clearly didn’t arrive. Although the Spiritualists are out of the game, I’ve tracked vastly increased funding to student patriot groups in the last few months. Those groups have all started ratcheting up pan-Asari propaganda, and are – as far as my agents can tell – organizing for something uncharacteristically big. The Manufacturing Association’s also circulating internal memos around increased strikebreaking budgets and hiring in masses of enforcers. Most of them are Asari. They’re putting pressure on the media, specifically League newspapers. Budgets for their charitable schools initiatives, both the ones the public knows about and the ones they don’t, have quadrupled. The same goes for the Athamite charitable trusts. I’ve provided Comrade Ullas with our projected report on their finances, which he can speak to better than me. After all, I’m not an accounting student.”

He laughed nervously as Ullas harrumphed and grumbled. His spectacles teetered on his face.

“With concern: I have assembled, given Comrade Meer’s information, a provisional estimate of the budgets of the filthy capitalist varren’s clique. With more concern: The amounts of funds being moved around are monumental. They have opened up every account and are squeezing out every credit. This includes not only cultural efforts, but unsustainable financial expansion. Their banking operations are spreading at a monumental rate. With confusion: They have spent millions on a commission for monumental statuary. Approaching fear: Their discretionary spending – as far as I can tell – has overtaken their ordinary budget. I cannot trace much of the money, but I can confirm it is moving. Afraid: At this current rate of spending, I predict the Association will bankrupt itself in a year. Still afraid: This is unprecedented, and indicates serious events in motion. They have even used emergency funds.”

“If this one has expired, as expire this one might-“

“Which means”, Meer continued, “That something has changed in their approach. Either they’re in crisis, or this is their endgame.”

“And we don’t have a single clue why”, responded Dellos. This was beyond worrying.

“Not entirely”, continued Meer. “I can’t confirm this intelligence, but one of my agents in the employ of Aeita Nassanos overheard a guard talking and later traced port records and ship registries to confirm. Both that guard and – regretfully – the agent – have disappeared and can be presumed dead. At some point in the last month, Nassanos made personal contact with Matriarch Benezia and an Asari SPECTRE.”

“Well. Shit.”, Gann emoted. He leaned back in his chair, fumbled in his pocket, and withdrew a cigar the size of a car exhaust pipe. He fumbled, lit it, and puffed contemplatively.

“So can we assume that Government didn’t know about this?”, queried Dellos, after a moment.

“Not at the time, but they’ll have figured it out by now.”

They let that sit for a moment.

“So, to summarize”, Dellos continued. “The Manufacturer’s Association, or whoever is behind it, got too ambitious. The Government bloodied its nose by hitting one of its less-public proxies. That’s a warning to the Manufacturers of both their anger and their reach. The Manufacturers don’t back down – they start throwing money they don’t have around. Most of this seems like preparations for an offensive against us, but it’s also redoubling pan-Asari propaganda. And they get a meeting with the most powerful player in the Asari Republics. And all of this, of course, while the threat of war between Citadel Space and the Terminus Systems grows and the economy here backslides. What are we missing?”

“Upset: Too much. Annoyed: We require more information.”

“And this one shall hear, though soft that one floats above this one-“

“Comrade Meer?”

He shook his head. “My networks inside the Association are mostly tapped out. I can’t guarantee you any more spectacular breakthroughs like the one we just had unless they start making mistakes.’

“Comrade Ullas?”

“With regret: I cannot track their funds until they start moving. I look for changes in the pattern to establish its form.”

Gann, reticent as ever, pitched his option.

“So we shake things up. Get them off-balance. Keep them sloppy. We kill a member of the Association Committee. No names, no calling-cards. Leave them in the dark. Shake things up, so to speak, and see what falls out.”

“And this one will sleep in peace until that one comes to this one!”

“Thank God that’s over”, Meer muttered. And then it started again.

“Oh Daniel-entity, the pipes the pipes are calling this one-“

Only a sharp look from Dellos prevented Gann from physically destroying the projector.

“Would that work?”

Meer hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“They’d tighten up security in the short term. But if this is really their endgame… They’d think someone was onto them. Make it look like Government or some unknown third actor and they’d even panic, thinking that their plan was compromised. We just have to make it look like we know everything already and they’ll start making mistakes.”

“With approval: They will spend further on counterintelligence operations. Happily, but nervously: They will begin to spend to protect core operations, allowing us to detect them. With anticipation: These capitalists will buy the rope with which we will hang them.”

“And then what? We’re still outgunned. If they’re in talks with the Asari Republics, they can bring in offworld assets. Mercenaries. Funds. Spies. SPECTRES. There’s no end to it. Even once we know, we can’t win.”

There was silence.

“It’s that one, it’s that one which must go and this unit greets you on behalf of the Geth Consensus as its designated contact-point for the organics of Illium.”

“Boss”, grumbled Gann, “The Hanar is looking a bit… Geth-y?”

“Ah. So it is.”

by **Greater Istanistan** » Tue Jun 04, 2019 9:57 pm

PRESS CLIPPINGS:

NEW SOCIAL DEMOCRAT

In a landmark deal unprecedented in recent history, the People’s Cooperative Fund of Illium – the official bank of the Programmist League – has secured the freedom of the slaves of the Batarian Hegemony. Following a series of discussions between League leadership, Cooperative Fund executives, and the Batarian government, the end of slave labour within Hegemony space has been achieved. Under the terms of the agreement, the Cooperative Fund has issued a massive economic aid package to the Batarian Hegemony to help it stabilize its economy and restart stalled colonial initiatives. Further financial aid will be provided in the coming months to stimulate the industrial sector and put Batarian citizens to work.

These steps enabled the wise Batarian Hegemon Narket, defender of Anhur from Citadel imperialists and bringer of peace, to announce major reforms. Effective immediately upon the ratification of the deal, all non-Batarians enslaved within the Hegemony will be unconditionally liberated. Slavery will also, effective immediately, no longer be a hereditary condition. All those born into slavery and under the age of majority will also be liberated. Over the course of the year emancipation of all Batarian slaves will be accomplished and the institution of slavery will be brought to an end within the Hegemony. This is the greatest humanitarian step forward in recent galactic history, and a monumental triumph for the strength and energy of the worker’s movement.

Newly-liberated slaves will naturally find it difficult to adjust to their freedom. The Programmist League has committed itself to helping would-be emigres settle on Illium and helping them find housing, jobs, and psychological supports in the land of liberty. However, it cannot accomplish this task alone and calls for those of good will to assist in this effort. Of course, most of the soon-to-be-former slaves are Batarian and will remain in Batarian space. To help them start their new lives and achieve economic as well as personal freedom, the Cooperative Fund has promised to offer its services on both Anhur and Khar’Shan, where it will provide low-interest loans and financial supports to ex-slaves as they seek to acquire homes, defeat their inner demons, and either find gainful employment or start their own cooperative enterprises. A legal defence fund will also be established to protect the rights of liberated slaves from their former masters. Should this prove successful, the Programmist League has also expressed interest in extending its group health-insurance, charitable education, and retirement savings operations into Batarian space to advance the people. Programmist leadership has expressed the utmost gratitude towards the Hegemon, whose bravery and far-sightedness in defence of the common Batarian know no bounds.

The Programmist League of Illium is the galaxy’s largest organization dedicated to the advancement of the cause of the worker. Since the foundation of Illium, it has stood for the principles of economic democracy, mutual aid, anti-imperialism, and solidarity. It fights against racism, big business, monopoly capitalism, overweening state power, and the endless plots and conspiracies against the people which bedevil Illium. The People’s Cooperative Fund handles its financial transactions along the principles of democratic finance. It is collectively owned by its members and helps them protect their savings, while also helping workers set up collective bargaining, take control of the businesses they work in, set up cooperatives, and work together on the promotion of a brighter and better future.

Asked for comment, League President Trassa Dellos was triumphant. “I was once a slave on Illium, foreclosed on when my parents couldn’t keep up with rent. I didn’t rescue myself – the movement rescued me. Today, with the conclusion of this deal, I’m proud to have done for the Batarians what my comrades did for me. This isn’t charity, or pity, or philanthropy. It’s solidarity. From one worker to another – regardless of place, time, and circumstances in life, if you need help we will do all in our power to give it, because we know what it’s like to be treated like dirt. This is another step on the long and terrible road to a better world, but it’s a step we’re going to take together. We’ve already accomplished one miracle today – what’s a few more?”

ILLIUM DAILY-WEEKLY

Illium was abuzz today with breaking news of the upcoming Citadel-Omega peace talks. With Liselle T’Loak already on-world and dignitaries including the Matriarch Benezia herself reportedly en-route, many already see this as the glamourous event of a lifetime. Said actress and model Eiria Allanos: “Just imagine – all these famous people showing up! I’ve started a betting pool with all my friend about what they’ll all be wearing!” When asked about the political ramifications of the event, which will put Illium at the centre of the galactic stage during a time of growing social unrest, economic instability, and cultural chaos, Allanos replied that the New Enquirer “wasn’t that sort of boring rag, was it?” and pivoted to her landmark purchase of her 50,000th pair of sparkly purple heels.

The excitement has been infectious in Nos Astra, with civic organizations competing to throw the most extravagant welcome events. The Manufacturer’s Association has arranged for all its employees to have the first day of treaty negotiations off from work. They will be, naturally, still on the clock and will be bussed out to Charter Square at the centre of the city, where they will cheer the dignitaries as they arrive for the talks in Foundation Hall, where the Nos Astra Urban Charter was negotiated almost 2000 years ago. Also present will be most of Nos Astra’s most famous and notable citizenry, who have bribed, influence-peddled, or finagled themselves into a delegation that will greet the arriving diplomats on behalf of the people of Illium. The less-powerful have even taken on menial temp jobs with the cleaning staff at Foundation Hall, seeking some acquired glory! Restaurants, bars, clubs, and lounges across the city have gone into panic-mode, spending huge quantities of money on promoting their brands in increasingly public ways in hopes that some negotiator, weary from a day’s work, will grace their premises with an unexpected visit. Betting pools are being started concerning the outcomes of the talks, the couture of the negotiators involved, the length of the talks, and how fast they restore market confidence. Even a new cryptocurrency has been launched – DiploCoin – to commemorate the event, and its value is through the roof. It’s a new boom in Illium!

The various ethnic communities have pitched in to greet their own respective Citadel governments with parades, crowds, balloon releases, or other demonstrations of loyalty and respect. For their part, the various pan-Asari groups have promised a mass demonstration of support for the Republics and the Matriarch Benezia, which will include mass athletic displays, a night-time laser show which will light up the Illium clouds with patriotic imagery (and blind most skycar drivers), and the unveiling of a new monumental statue near the spaceport paid for by public subscription and dedicated to the glories of Illium’s heritage, culture, and future.

When asked about the events, a Government representative stated that “peace and good order would be preserved”. Our brave Political Inspectorate will likely be in evidence, preventing dangerous rabble-rousers and saboteurs from disrupting the citizenry’s good fun. After all, it wouldn’t do for their politics to get in the way of some good entertainment, would it? The university, as well as all entrances to Nos Astra, are expected to be on lockdown in an unusual display. For those with an eye for a gal in uniform, now’s the chance!

All in all, Illium is looking forward to some good fun, classic celebrations, and a chance to show off our status as the true beating heart of Asari culture, society, and civilization. Let’s give a warm welcome to the arriving diplomats and treat them to a bit of peace – Illium-style!

STUDENT MANIFESTO

Comrades,

Despite the best efforts of the comprador police and the grovelling bribes of the Manufacturer’s Association, we of the New Patriotic Vanguard remain firm in our convictions. We denounce wholeheartedly the filthy fornication of the planetary ruling elite, and spit upon those of our erstwhile comrades in the movement who have succumbed to the impulse to grovel at the feet of the Thessian authorities and the Volus Occupation Government. Benezia and her flunkies are firmly in the pockets of big Volus capital and its agenda of racial adulteration, social degeneracy, atheism, and genetic suicide. Like slurry their filthy harlotry flows through our veins and corrupts our very genes with the rot of alien influence.

We deny these hedonist filth! On our campuses, we deny them! In the streets, we deny them! Through their bribes, we deny them! Through their words, we deny them! Through their corruption, we deny them!

Some would argue that we must throw our lot in with Benezia and her cult-rabble. Garbage. She would see us compromise with the alien and promote blasphemies. She works directly with big Volus finance. She creates cultural degeneracy and poisons the minds of the common people so that there is nothing left for them but blind obedience to the state, the religious establishment, and the great manifestation of Oravor – the Citadel Credit. She would be master of the universe by stripping it of all that is good and wrapping herself in the tattered remains of its glory until the weak-minded are drawn to the last scraps of what they instinctively know is good and true. We deny her.

Others would argue that we must defend Omega and Aria T’Loak, as forces of renewal and chaos which will allow us to make our move. This is a deviation of an even worse sort. What is the Terminus? An endless den of race-mixing, degeneracy, decadence, exploitation, and pleasure-seeking without end. It is immoral, bestial, and degrading, and T’Loak represents this above all else. She is filth, swine, an empty void, an unconscious race-traitor, the destroyer. She is to be hated, and when the time comes she must be destroyed as well. We deny her.

What then, is the path of the Vanguard? Neither T’Loak nor Benezia – national revolution! The New Patriotic Vanguard knows that these two and their Volus co-conspirators have ensnared the galaxy in their foul puppet-play as they seek to impose the Credit and destroy our willpower. They have weakened the minds of the people and replaced race-consciousness with the empty and backwards doctrines of Programmism, a so-called revolution which would only weaken us further. We must awaken the people. We, the Vanguard, must take decisive action and rouse Illum from its consumeristic slumber. We must remind the Asari race of its deepest values and traditions – an unbroken heritage which not even the scheming alien and the homeworld filth can truly break. The people depend on us to awaken them to the national revolution – we must take up this task! Protest the talks! Awaken the masses! Break the government! Illium is the headquarters of the new Asari order!

Forward, vanguard of the race!

BUDGET

2 Galbanks (Anhur, Khar'Shan) 150 80 + 20 = 100
4 Galbanks (Earth, Eden Prime, Arcturus Stream, Elysium) 300 160 +40 = 200
5 Galbanks (Asari Space) 375 200 + 50 = 250

Major Station (Tasale)
Urban 4 400 180
Fuel Depot 2 30 10
Industrial 3 45 25
MIC 1 40 15
Mil Shipyard 1 550 15
Spaceport 1 80 88
1145 333

Zorya
Mining Vessels 12 600
Gunship Wings 101 505

Illium
Battlecruisers 10 600
Airmobile Infantry 20 300
Marine 20 240
Frigates 50 500

Batarian Aid Package => 1000

Total: 4890/4893

Research Points/Month: 24

Research Project:

Stellar Arcologies - 24/40

by **Kinistian** » Wed Jun 05, 2019 12:50 am

Illium Chapter||New Armali-Cult Warehouse||Jona’s Huntresses

With the information received from Detective Kyria, the Eclipse had been staking out the Cultist for several days, gathering what little data that they could find. After 3 days the mercs were ready to make their move. As night fell their raid began, a trio of gunships shoot out from the darkness and surrounded the complex. Without warning and without mercy the gunships began to open fire, shooting up the entire complex with thousands of rounds while bombarding it with missiles.

Fire erupted though-out the building with cultist scrambling to find weapons or to duck behind cover to escape the wraith of the gunships. As the cultist began to fire back the infamous Jona’s Huntresses appeared though the flames, barriers flickering as they deflected incoming sporadic gunfire. A collection of Novas and Biotic charges but an end to any defenders on the outside of the complex.

The fight inside the building was a little harder. Much more cover for these Turian madmen to hide from the Gunships and the Huntresses. However, the Huntresses were damn good at their job. The building was clear in a matter of minutes, bodies set ablaze with gunfire and torn by raw biotic power. The Commandos then downloaded all the data that they could find before getting on the gunships. As they left the local law enforcement arrived with fire fighters in toe.

The leader of the Huntresses radioed in Detective Kyria.

“Mission Accomplished Detective. The data has been secured. No survivors.” Her cold voice echoed through her respirator.

Date Chapter||Feros||Date Masamune

The Assault in the small colony of Feros had gone swimmingly for the Eclipse merc group. The ExoGeni HQ had very little in terms of security. The scientist were subsequently tortured for secrets and access codes to all their data on the Prothean ruins and this special project of theirs.

The colonist had been a more of hassle then expected. For simple colonist they seemed uncharacteristically stubborn. But soon their colony would be torched, the defenders given an honorable death by Masamune himself. With the information gathered from ExoGeni, the Eclipse members went below the colony with environmentally sealed suits. There The discovered the Thorian, spewing out a hoard of green humans. They shoot down the hoard before ultimately having to kill the creature. It’s spores were to dangerous for it to be left alive.

Deciding that the Batarians might be interested in the corpse. The Eclipse used explosives to make a hole big enough to extract the creature. After loading on a transport with mass effect fields. Masamune sent a report of the mission to the Batarian researchers on Trident.

Eclipse||Turian Hierarchy||Message

A message appeared to the naval staff of the Turian Hierarchy. A few Eclipse Frigates were in the Apien Crest and where offering there services to help the local patrol fleet with training in locating pirates and other renegades. Only 10 credits.

by **Segmentia** » Wed Jun 05, 2019 7:05 am

Negotiation Team

With no Councilor willing to risk themselves going to the treaty negotiation, not trusting Aria in the same way Aria wasn't trusting them, a small team of negotiators and diplomats was put together, consisting from all three Council species, and headed by the Asari diplomat Irissa Kyana, a veteran of the diplomatic field, and the most prominent replacement for Tevos for when she retired. Irissa was also something of a heavy hitter, ruthless in negotiations, and she herself understood that in this moment it could very well be a weakness, pushing Omega away from the table and rising tensions even more. With this in mind she had asked her old friend Benezia T'Soni to accompany her. Benezia had been hesitant, after all she was spending time with her daughter, but also because she didn't want people to assume she was in charge of the negotiations. It was a Council mission after all, and she didn't want to seem that she was exerting undue power over the Council. Eventually she had relented and agreed, realizing that the negotiations were too important not to help out with, when asked too.

With that she had boarded a Republics military transport with a group of Spec-Ops selected to act as negotiation security, which headed to the Citadel to pick up the entire delegation. It was small, but composed of Asari, Turian, and Salarian members. The transport would then travel to Illium, unprotected to show good faith. The ship was bombarded with messages from hundreds of outlets, most asking for interviews. The pilots eventually blocked out all channels but Illium orbital and docking control as they brought the ship into dock. The delegation were then transported to the location of the negotiations, murmuring that they might be stuck here afterwards just to play good-will to the press.

by **Nuxipal** » Wed Jun 05, 2019 8:37 am

Nos Astra, Illium

Liselle had plenty of time to meet with various media outlets. Giving her opinion on the current situation. The segment of her interview that seemed to receive the most airtime however involved the question: "What is your opinion on you mother's war?" For her part, Liselle kept her composure and responded in a calm and even mannered tone, "I wouldn't call this 'my mother's war' as you put it. I would instead suggest that this is simply a war to provide true freedom from the Citadel to every sentient in the Terminus and by extension, the Traverse. It wouldn't have ever gotten started if the Council could keep track of their SPECTREs and restrict their activities to Council Space, where their laws actually apply. Places like Omega and Illium are free of these laws, yet the SPECTREs trample over innocents and criminals alike here. If the council didn't seek this war, they would have put limitations on the activities of SPECTREs after the Krogan Rebellions ended."

The clip played as Liselle sat at the table, her escort stood and sat to each side of her awaiting the Citadel representation. The room had plenty of media outlets set up to make sure the meeting was very public. As the Council representation sat, Liselle introduced herself to them. "I am Liselle T'Loak, I will be representing Omega and the Terminus Systems in this meeting. I have a document here with Aria's original offer and am willing to sign it on her behalf publicly here and now."

She presented a document, sure enough it was in plain language that even the vast commons of the Districts of Omega and the Wards of the Citadel could easily understand. It proclaimed that the Eagle Nebula, Ismar Frontier, and Crescent Nebula were to be considered Demilitarized Zones in the War between Omega and the Citadel Council on the grounds of protecting the rights of the neutral worlds which had no real say in Citadel Space and were not allied to Omega.

Liselle slid a copy of the document over to the Council Representative while another copy had been provided to a nearby media source.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Wed Jun 05, 2019 9:03 am

Lives of Flesh, Lives of Bone

Western Wildlands, Seven Klicks from Cumberland Station, Aite
Timestamp: Coreward Saleph-Quaternary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

Over the barren scrublands the flit-bikes grumbled, thin lines of blue smog whisping away from engines invisible in the midnight air. If the riders hadn't had their engines running, the noises of the night would have been quiet and cool; tranquil repose of the hours between dusk and dawn, the twin moons low in the sky headed towards the western horizon.

But Messir Jagesch and his posse weren't merely out enjoying to cool breezes and peaceful vapors. Clive Cumberland and his folk had been grazing cattle too far west again, infringing on lands the Bluebelly Boys called their own. Self-appointed enforcers around Kunwall Station, they were the law in these parts of the wild and distinctly law-less frontier that was Aite, and they weren't going to take such provocations lying down. Tracer rifles were hunt beneath the body of each whining flit-bike, and the men whose goggled faces stared out across the trackless black wastes all carried heavy ammunition belts, as well as obvious propellants.

A message. Shoot up some of the outlying equipment, maybe pick off a sentinel or five. Burn some houses after barricading the inhabitants inside. Enough to make the city-slicking newcomers think twice about trying to enforce their land claims from Adrasteia, maybe even pack it all in and run back to Citadel Space with their tails between their legs. Jagesch spat as he leaned low over his controls, savoring already the flavor of exene burning in the morning.

Then the mesa was bathed in a sudden cold light. Glare-strobes pulsed, sending a few of the bikers tumbling as they were disorientated and lost track of their surroundings. Overhead in an instant the thrum of heavy turbines reverberated, drive turbines changed from the silent running of a gliding attack craft to the ear-pounding roar of a hovering gunship. Men around the Messir swore and gunned their engines, trying to escape the searchlights of the interdictors.

A loud metallic voice sounded, toneless but authoritative.

"Unidentified travelers, transit between stations is forbidden between 16:00 and 06:00 hours. Shut down your engines, and stay where you are. You have fifteen seconds to comply."

Goddamm soulless automaton fucks. The Bluebelly bosss gunned his engine, switching the air-feed to rich-mix, and made for a nearby ridgeline he had seen before the strobes went live. He wasn't going to be fodder for a jail cell, not that easily. Even lower than before, nearly brushing the vibrating flit-drives, Jagesch leant - perhaps the minimal profile would help him make good his escape. One hand scrabbled for the handle of his repeater; a bullet-hole in the canopy would at least make the pilots think twice about following him.

The fifteen seconds elapsed quickly. Flashes of blue energy began to pulse from lowering black shapes that blotted out the stars, concussive rounds the lawkeepers were all too fond of for sending neuroelectrical activity into a tailspin for a few minutes while gray-clad platforms apprehended the suspects. With every passing second the mob-boss tensed more, expecting to feel the fire of crackling energy sending his system into paroxysms of pain, but the bolt did not come. His gun was in his hand in a second more, and with barely a glance behind himself the biker rattled off a series of shots towards the excise gunship.

Other men opened up. Most of the long-rifles weren't meant for much more than hunting men, and spanged off of the marginal armor plating of the hovercraft as if they were rocks or arrows of some uncontacted primitives. But a few deeper-voiced barks betrayed elephant guns, meant for taking down rampaging space cows, and the whine of turbines as the gunships gained altitude told Jagesch that some of those shooters had found their mark. He smiled in grim satisfaction, racing forward in the darkness. Almost home free.

That was the last thought that passed through the enforcer's brain before a lash of disruptive magnetism shivered apart bike and rider both in a blaze of white fire. Apparently fed up with the armed resistance, and authorized to use lethal force, the gunships of the local patrol bathed the scrubland in heavy weapons. Small-time thugs and smugglers disappeared nearly instantly, barriers and shields failing as if they didn't exist, and for a few seconds the wasteland was so lit with the dispersion of energy as heat and light that it might almost have been day.

No more shots cracked up at the gunships. A few landed to take charge of those prisoners which had already been disabled, or who had powered down their bikes in compliance with the initial command. No few of the Bluebelly Boys that were taken into custody required new trousers before they went into the holding cells at the Spire near Adrasteia, but their Geth captors provided those without complaint. Law and order had come to Aite, and only some few men of the many holdfasts and stations were dissatisfied with the change in their affairs.

After all, investment was up. Dozens of cargo barges hung in low orbit, ferrying down construction materials for acre after acre of new development; manufactories, mining complexes, even housing centers for organics. For a world that had always been given the hand-me-downs, uncared for because in two centuries it would cease to exist, actually being noticed was a strange but not-unwelcome state of affairs.

by **Grand Phyrexia** » Thu Jun 06, 2019 7:56 am

Keelah si'yah

The Migrant Fleet,Sentry Omega, Admiral Zofe’Vollo vas Johala

The empty void of space can only dazzle the eyes for so long.For the Quarians space is the only vibrant sight in their existence amongst the Migrant Fleet. For Admiral Zofe'Vollo vas Johala the sight of the void has grown stale and is unfulfilling. She still remembered from her Pilgrimage the majesty of the worlds she visited. The dazzling mountains of Palaven, the lush jungles of Sur’kesh, and the majesty of Thessia, even Tuchanka in its radioactive glory was a mesmerizing... from the safety of ship of course. She remembered what it felt like as the wind blew against her suite, the sun trying to break though her coolant systems, and the feel of solid ground. Though the Migrant Fleet was her home it didn’t feel whole. Her people, ever on the edge of death, the brink of extinction needed a world of their own. Be it the Home-world lost or some jewel waiting for them. A new home for her people.

A notion that for most of her people is the closest thing to heresy to her people. The goal of the Reconquista of the Home-world, an idea indoctrinated and cultivated though centuries of hatred and longing. To retake the birth place of her people from the Great Mistake, the Parody of Life, the wretched, the usurpers, the abominations, the soulless machines, the Geth. The thought of letting those machines sully Rannoch for another year has caused many Quarians to become ever more militant, stepping ever closer to renewing war, drawing ever closer to the thread that held the future of the Quarian people.

Though for Zofe, was war the only course of action for her people? Of course they couldn’t continue to float in space forever. No Zofe believed the future of her people laid somewhere in these stars. A world unspoiled and uncharted, a place where her people could flourish once again, a home where children can play in the warm embrace of a caring sun and unhindered by their suits, and a place where the culture of her people can finally be expressed. This was Zofe’s Dream, her goal and yet it will not be her who would find this Paradise. That honor will fall to the Captain of the Heavy Cruiser Exploration vessel and her daughter Mira’kal vas Johala. Wherever she is out there in the void, Zofe prayed to the lost ancestors to protect and guide her daughter back to her, no matter what she finds.

Patrol Fleet-Recon Team Alpha,Outside of Phoenix Massing, Commander Zef'Yaann vas Xiwa

So Close,that what was going through the Commander’s head as his small contingent of frigates laid incognito in the middle of space. Their sensors bombarding the relay and what laid beyond for abnormal Geth activity. The Commander though seemed lost in thought as he stared at the image of the Relay. 2 jumps was all that was need, 2 jumps and he could see the home-world again, 2 jumps was all that stood between him and Rannoch...well that and the Geth Armada.

Zef sighed into his respirator and held his face in his hands. He was so close yet so far, his heart ached for a world he had never seen a world that called for liberation. His hands slowly became fists as anger broke through sorrow. One day he will see that place of old, and he will avenge his lost and forgot ancestors. The Great Mistake will be rectified and the Quarian People will know their world once again.

by **Segmentia** » Thu Jun 06, 2019 9:12 am

Nos Astra, Illium

Irissa Kyana did a commendable job of keeping the sneer off her face when the sound clip from Liselle T'Loak played. The kid liked her theater, that was for sure, no doubt a by product of Omega and her mother. Irissa wasn't one to really play the media game, she was too direct and too cut-throat for that, she had learned over the centuries. Benezia and the other team members could do any of the media play bull. The document was straight forward and in plain language, but then she hadn't been expecting any fancy word play from pirates and criminals playing at civilization and diplomacy. She conferred with the other representatives briefly, and after getting their support for it, she signed it.

“On behalf of the Citadel Council, and the power vested in me by said Council, I declare this treaty to be formalized.” She said, not letting Liselle get that part at least.

Mass Effect Factions :: Emergence ((IC/Apply in OOC))

Month 4 Update, April 2182

Who is online