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

by **Nuxipal** » Thu May 02, 2019 7:37 am

Scenario: The year is 2182, there is unease in the Galaxy as many citizens of the Citadel Council have been growing more concerned regarding the new Omega Empire practically knocking on the doorstep of Citadel space itself. According to its Queen, Aria T'Loak, she changed her plans after an apparent Citadel Assassination attempt, which of course the council denied any involvement in. In the only citadel news network interview she gave in 2180, Aria claims that following the attempt on her life she declared herself Queen of Omega and demanded fealty from all who lived on it. Today the fleets which she commands are feared in the Terminus and have border colonies nervous and asking for military equipment. Even the wealthy Asari world of Illium is asking for additional defensive structures despite being given a council subsidy to build up orbital defenses.

However, even within council space there is unrest. With the Skyllian Blitz not even a decade past, tensions between Humans, the galaxy's newest members, and the Batarian Hegemony remain high. Slave raids on human colonies are frequent as well as Alliance assaults on Batarian "Pirate" strongholds. It was during this time that Commander Shepard displayed a great deal of bravery fending off a Batarian assault single-handedly when a colony's defenses fell eventually pushing them back and sealing the breach before reinforcements arrived. The conflict proved Humanity's ability to adapt to their enemy and that they were in fact quite militarily competent. Shepard was awarded the Star of Terra for the actions during that battle. However, the average citizen in the Galaxy has now seen the Humans fight two conflicts in a quarter century. To many, the humans are now perceived as aggressors and likely to destabilize the Citadel Council.

To alleviate these fears, a joint Turian-Human task force as been working on a secret project that will bring greater unity between the two species. Now Shepard is being touted secretly as a SPECTRE candidate, championed by David Anderson, a former SPECTRE candidate himself until a joint mission with the Turian Saren Arterius went wrong. Since then Saren has continued his SPECTRE work in the Traverse sometimes going years without contact, he has however recently returned to Palaven to meet with a fellow SPECTRE to give him intel regarding strange Geth Activity near the Veil and that it could be a precursor to an invasion. Nihlus, the other SPECTRE, notifies Saren of the Hierarchy and the Alliance working on a secretive project together.

Collector Bounty Board
2 sets of identical Human twins - 10 Credits/5 RP

Asari Maiden, Matron, Matriarch from same family - 30 credits/10 RP
Salarian Twins - 20 credits / 5 RP
10 Krogan Samples - 10 credits/ 5 RP
100 Batarians - 20 credits / 5 RP
1 Fertile Krogan Female - 30 credits/ 10 RP
Active Geth Unit - 20 credits / 5 RP
Disabled geth Units - 20 credits / 5 RP
Biotic Hanar - 10 Credits / 5 RP
5 Batarian Scientists who have worked in the Harsa System - 10 credits/ 5 RP

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Thu May 02, 2019 9:44 am

The Shaping

Forge Cruxius Mantle, High Rannoch Orbit, Tikkun System
Timestamp: Spinward Aleph-Secondary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

The armasteel embrasure heated, glowing a dull red even as heat capacitors diligently drew the thermal energy away from the manufacturing array. The Smithmaster's head tilted slightly, faceplate appraising the power level readings from the latent processing core. Within acceptable parameters, though one half-standard deviant compared to expectations for pre-solidification masses. Manipulators moved with precision at its left hand, the Acolyte fine-tuning the magnetic flux projectors mixing the alloy.

Primary mass approaching metallurgic stabilization. Executing drawdown.

Suspended in the vacuum furnace, the silvery substance shifted, writhing in rhythmic waves. Vibrating at harmonic frequencies necessary to promote appropriate grain growth, gradually the extrusion cooled and began to take on the form the laborers at the the Mantle intended. First the baseplate of glittering supertensile solid crystallized. Finger digits danced across the input panels. With the inaudible hiss of pneumatic panels in the void pyre fabrication arms moved, bundles of neurofiber and reactive plating segments moving with nanoscale position to integrate with the surface of the new unit.

Core upload finalized. Insertion marked.

Gentle gossamer strands of graphene dappled the shimmering exterior of the unit for a moment, agglomerations manipulated at the molecular level reinforcing the armored exterior of the platform. Into the still malleable carapace a last addition was delicately placed, pushing through the molded layers of kinetic gel, polymer analogs, and composite support structures - a pulsing heart and mind of cognitive hardware which would rapidly distribute itself throughout the entirety of the mind-machine latticeworks.

The cherry red glow of the forging faded, the Smithmaster stepping down the induction components of the orbital lathe. A light caress of fields drew the near-completed unit forward to the overseer's platform, appendages and manipulators integrated with vacuum-welding and precision solders in the journey. Nearly eight hundred hours after the shaping had begun, the new platform alighted on the cool milialloy floor of the Forge, and opened its eye.

Platform Apostle. Operational status - query.

A tilt of the faceplate, the hundred and fifty eight programs coming online. White light flashed from the visage of the new unit, an operative designed unlike so many - for independent consensus, operation far from the guiding light of the stations and the servers that were home.

This unit is prepared to serve.

Its first steps were precise, even by the standards of the machines that had begotten it, those of a lithe predator moving through a known domain. With the low clank of metal on metal it joined the other two new fabrications, bearing the sobriquets Sojourner and Forebearer - the new units earmarked for deployment.

by **Turkducken** » Fri May 03, 2019 6:08 pm

The Citadel
Presidium Ring
Salarian Council Chamber

The Salarian Councilor stood at the viewscreen for the exterior. For security purposes the Council weren't allowed to have 'real' windows to their chambers, but the viewscreen was enough, for the moment. It was another beautiful day in the Presidium and Councilor Bopip was beginning to resent it. The lime green Salarian missed the rain and mist of Sur'Kesh, and it never rained on the Presidium. The Gardeners never programmed the skies to be cloudy either. It was a perpetual sunlight fueled nightmare. He rubbed the sensory organ between his eyes, he had been nursing what Humans would call a "headache" all day. Being reminded of Humans and their constant production of stress for him, he activated the VI in his personal Omni-Tool, and dictated a direct message to his fellow Councilors.

"Are we really be considering a Human for a new SPECTRE position? The Alliance is barely a resident of the galaxy, let alone citizens. We should honestly be considering further citizenship for the Elcor or Volus before them. The backlash we are already facing for giving the Humans an embassy is outrageous! Surely my fellow Council Members can see the wisdom in delaying Humanity?"

He sent it to the Asari and Turian Councilors. Hoping his disgust for these notions were conveyed properly to them. He sat at his desk, checking the time. Bopip had been expecting a call from the Dalatrass, his Clan leader, for a few hours now. She was meant to be briefing him on some new covert actions being undertaken by the STG. Although she was certainly taking her time...

Annos Basin
Sur'Kesh
Clan Bazore

Dalatrass Raestann had been grilling Captain Kirrahe for hours, upset at the apparent lack of progress he had made on gathering intelligence on the activities of rival clans. He was a soldier at heart, and accepted the verbal lashing. Although he personally felt that his talents were being wasted. The Dalatrass dismissed him, with a backwave of the hand, and he promptly left her office. The Dalatrass sighed heavily, the men in her life were exhausting and incompetent, at least in her mind. She paged her assistant with a button on her desk, "Clear my schedule for the next hour. Tell anyone left waiting I'll have to reschedule." she barked.

Turning away from her desk, she tapped a few control points on her Omni-Tool. A direct and secure connection between her and Councilor Bopip had been established, and she quickly skimmed his last message sent. As the image came through, Bopip was sitting, head nesting in his hands.

"Well well Councilor, long day?" she wryly quipped at him.

The Councilor's head shot up, and he quietly muttered some curses to his VI for not informing him a connection was made.

"My apologies Dalatrass, I've been suffering a 'headache' since this morning."

"Bold of you to use Human phrasing considering your rather vocal hostility against them Councilor." she venomously spat at him, "I thought I remember telling you that we needed to procure affection among the Humans? How else will this glaring hole in our intelligence be remedied if we can't even get our agents within their Space!"

Bopip recoiled slightly from her aggression, "My Illustrious and Wise Dalatrass, I apologize for"

"Shut up you fool. The message has been sent and I've already decided it to be useful. It'll send the other Councilors scrambling, and will further fuddle what our official stance is." she scoffed at him, "Regardless of what I've decided, you're an idiot for acting out of turn!" she waved a three fingered hand dismissively.

Bopip stewed with a quiet anger, but held his tongue, and quietly forwarded the information the Dalatrass had previously requested.

"As you can see my Dalatrass, no Councilor officially contacted a SPECTRE anytime before the attempted assassination of Aria T'Loak. We have deduced that it was a SPECTRE however, the classified evidence given to us by Aria confirms this."

He then uploaded an image of the evidence, it was the bright silver sheen of a Paladin Hand Cannon. A SPECTRE armory manufactured heavy pistol, based on the popular Carnifex Hand Cannon Design. It had the black scuff marks of combat, obviously lost in a heated battle.

The Dalatrass turned, confused by this, "You're sure this wasn't sanctioned by the Asari Councilor? Aria has very old and bitter roots on Thessia, they have plenty of motive for wanting her dead?. Although..." she trailed off, "it's hard to dispute this kind of evidence. Paladins' don't appear on the black market, if there's one thing we've ensured it's that the SPECTRE Armory is incredibly solid about proliferation. Either this means the whole Armory is in on this, or we have a Rogue SPECTRE." she finished grimly, "A Rogue SPECTRE that's hiding perfectly in plain sight."

"That is correct my Dalatrass. As you know SPECTRE weapons have no registration tags, and are specifically made to be immune to any form of biological identification." Bopip explained dryly, "Ironic considering we developed the technology and insisted on its' implementation."

The Dalatrass quietly considered all of this information, then dismissed the Councilor with a quiet "Thank You". She quietly swapped over to the other communication channel, which had been listening in to their private conversation. "I'm assuming you caught all of that Dr. Solus?" she addressed the hidden onlooker, "Have you received all of the documents I forwarded?"

The older Salarian coughed gently, "Yes yes Dalatrass, initial thoughts very intriguing. Why would a SPECTRE target Aria? On Omega? Personal Grudge perhaps? Seems unlikely." his rapid thoughts escaping his mind, "Or the whole SPECTRE Armory is part of a plot? But for what? Can definitely see why you brought me here. While espionage not my specification, you'll need a whole very discreet team to investigate this properly." he concluded, "Although may I ask, who is to be the rest of team? I am a genius, but even I can't resolve this case on my own. Too many factors."

The Dalatrass sighed deeply. If there was any one male that annoyed her than most, it was Mordin Solus, however he was a rare genius among Salarians. His abilities could not be understated. "Well Dr. Solus, we have a few options...but we'll start with the Humans. I've already prepared a ship with a representative of the Union on board. We've discreetly asked for an Alliance representative to rendezvous with the vessel just outside of our Space. You maintain total deniability, and no records of this meeting will be kept. You are to approach them and discreetly extend an invitation to assist this unofficial mission on the behalf of the Union. STG seems to think the Humans will be eager to assist to court favor."

Mordin grew quiet over the communication, "Fascinating...." he whispered

"Now go Dr. Solus, this mission is of the upmost importance to us. Don't fail me." she ended the communication abruptly. Collapsing into her chair, she let out a deep breath and said aloud, "Males" before alerting her assistant to save as many appointments as they could for today.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Fri May 03, 2019 10:41 pm

by **Segmentia** » Sat May 04, 2019 9:33 pm

'And polls across the Republics show continued positive opinions towards the Republics Mutual Defense Committee, with one comment from the Citadel stating 'We've trusted our Matriarchs for thousands of years, I don't see any reason to stop doing so now.' This has been Treliya Loza with Thessian News Network.'

The Citadel, Councilor Tevos' Office

Councilor Tevos was in the middle of meditating, her body surrounded by a biotic field as she simply enjoyed the beautiful Presidium 'day', though she knew it wouldn't last. Ever since the formation of the RMDC her work load had seen both a decrease and an increase in various different areas. While she had always essentially been a conduit for the voice of the Matriarchs and the needs of the Asari peoples, the very form of Asari society could make that difficult to deal with, with dozens upon dozens of different Republics. Things had been relatively smooth...until the Humans. They were a young and eager species, and with a new species came a slew of new duties to preform, new trade treaties to make happen, representative and diplomatic missions. But in truth she had enjoyed the challenge and excitement of it, she had been devoid of the thrill of real politics for far too long.

As if reading her thoughts something on her desk chimed incessantly. Taking a deep breath to calm a spike of annoyance Tevos dispelled the biotic field and stood up, walking back to her desk and sitting at the seat as she gracefully brought up the holo-display. It was an audio message from Councilor Bopip. She played the message as she leaned back in her chair. She was still trying the gauge how the Salarians in general felt about Humanity, most reports and her own insights showed something of a schism in attitudes, but Tevos supposed she only had to wait a few decades before things were a bit more settled with the Salarians to tell. The general feeling among the Matriarchs, and herself, was to throw the Systems Alliance a few bones to keep them content and eager to please, and maybe in a few generations move towards more serious considerations of granting them a Council position.

She recorded her own message reply and sent it to both of her colleagues.

“Come now, Bopip, we've discussed the potentials of all of this before, as I've done with multiple predecessors to you both. The Volus are a client state of the Turians, and bringing them onto the Council may give the Hierarchy undue influence on Council rulings through them. As for the Elcor, they haven't really done anything exceptionally significant for the civilized galaxy, it could at least be argued that the Volus created the credit system. Do we simply want to link Council seats to nothing but time as an associate member, or do we want to reserve it for those species and governments that play far larger roles in the galaxy?

And this would be the second time we've considered a human for the SPECTREs, so it is not something groundbreaking. At the very least we can hold this above the Systems Alliance heads and influence them with it.” She said, ending and sending her message to her counterparts. With her meditation having been interrupted she figured she should knock out some extra work.

Thessia

Matriarch Benezia T'Soni had found it surprisingly easy to fall into the role as the defacto leader of the RMDC, and she supposed it had come with the fact that she had been leading a large following for well over a century. The aged Asari sat in her study reading over reports and proposals before her meeting with the two other members of the 'triumvirate', as she had heard them called in certain circles, but mostly it seemed to be on the side of affectionate rather then disdain. Respected or not however, getting the committee of Matriarchs, and the occasional Matron, was still a chore, but a chore she gladly accepted. Benezia had always thought that the Asari should have a greater role in shaping galactic events, a bit more hands on as the saying went. The usual slow building but long reaching influence over other species was all well and good, but in her mind the Asari should be more proactive. All it took was the death of certain individuals or a bad media stint for influence to start evaporating, but if the Republics had strength and a unified, slightly centralized government to back up that influence...

A knock at her door brought Benezia out of her thoughts. “Yes?” She called, keying for the door to open. The captain of her personal guard, Shiala, walked through and bowed her head slightly. “The air car will be here soon to take you to the meeting, Matriarch. I've prepared the escort.” Benezia smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, Shiala. I'll be just a few more minutes.” She said, dismissing the captain, who bowed her head again and silently left the study, the door sliding close after her. Benezia relaxed a little and smiled. Having loyal, competent followers and supporters made things so much more smooth, and Shiala was akin to her own shadow. While Benezia was a very powerful biotic herself it certainly never hurt to have a highly trained Commando watching her back, especially one who was a fairly powerful biotic herself. Benezia went to turn off her holo-screen and her eyes fell on the photo projection of her daughter Liara. She couldn't help but smile at the photo, though a swirl of emotions turned within her. She was certainly proud of what her daughter had accomplished so far in her short life, especially given the somewhat sheltered life Liara had had. Being the daughter of a major figure among the Asari was not easy, especially for those who were young. Benezia had done the best that she could have, or so she told herself. But on top of that pride was worry, worry about Liara being out on dig sites, usually on her own. Benezia opened a program to send a message to Liara, asking her to come home for a visit for a little while, and hopefully she would agree so that Benezia might talk her into accepting at least a small unit of guards. It wasn't as if they were on bad terms of course, just a little distance since Liara went off to study Protean digs hands on and Benezia had been busy with the RMDC.

With a quick message sent off, Benezia closed down her holo-unit and stood up and made her way out of her study and to the private shuttle landing area of her penthouse suite, the landing zone being more or less a small hanger, able to fit multiple air-cars and a the security gunships that had come with her position. The gunships were already prepped and three air-cars were waiting, the one to the front and rear full of guards, and the one in the middle for Benezia and Shiala. Her guard captain bowed her head as she passed and settled in next to Benezia, the door sealing and the whole convoy setting off. Personally Benezia didn't think she needed such a heavy escort, after all she had been fine with a handful of guards since she rose to prominence in Asari politics, but she did understand that now her potential enemies, and she did have enemies, had more reason to strike at her, so again it was a chore she happily suffered.

The aircade made its way through the sky-lanes towards the Temple of Athame, which since the founding of the RMDC had served as one of several primary meeting points of the Matriarch Council, though today Benezia was simply meeting with the other two members of the Triumvirate. Benezia was one of the few people who know what was inside the temple and the reason it was so heavily defended, as did a few of the other Matriarchs, and if there was ever a time to start tapping into the Prothean beacon to gain advantages it seemed like now would be the time, especially since the Council needed to stop the practice of using a new species to deal with a problem, as was the historical precedent. Benezia wasn't anti-human, she was simply cautious in allowing a new species to the galactic stage undue influence and responsibility.

The aircade swooped in gracefully on the landing zone out front of the heavily guarded temple, and Benezia mused that at least now they had an excuse for the public on why its defenses, having always been rather heavy for an otherwise defunct temple, had been bolstered. Once landed and informed everything was secure, Shiala lead the way into the temple, passing through a mass effect field. The guard captain remained by the door as Benezia walked forward to meet with the two Asari already there.

Alenia Nyxemi was an old acquaintance, tall and wit the body of the centuries old Huntress she was, sleek and graceful, but also powerful. Benezia wouldn't go so far as to say they were friends, but they were, and always had been, on good terms. Alenia nodded towards Benezia and Iressia Ateara, the youngest member of the Matriarch Council, amusing since she was still a matron, turned and also nodded. She was a fairly average woman, but behind her eyes was a cunning and ruthlessness that she had clearly used to catapult herself to billionaire status in a relatively short amount of time.

“Benezia, about time.” Alenia said with a grin. “Iressia and I were just going over some numbers for our projected budget. Some pretty big numbers in there.” Alenia said with a grin, while Iressia nodded. “It was certainly something to put together a unified economy, but the work has absolutely paid off.” She said, flicking the data screen she had on her holo-pad up onto a larger omni-tool display. It was certainly a stunning line of figures that scrolled across the holo-screen, and she might have even reacted if she wasn't so practiced in controlling herself.

Benezia did allow herself to raise a brow as she looked at Iressia. “That is certainly impressive Iressia. I imagine you already ideas on how to spend it?” She asked, and Iressia nodded and smiled.

“I do, Matriarch. I plan on presenting it to the Budgeting Committee later this evening. I'll be sure to inform the both of you on the results, but seeing as how the budget I have planned follows along the priorities we discussed I'm sure it'll pass with no issue. I've yet to meet a Matriarch who wants to go against the wishes of Benezia, after all.” Iressia said with a smirk.

Benezia nodded, essentially a dismissal for the matron, who nodded to both her and Alenia, before departing. Internally Benezia was taken aback by the statement. Did her name carry that much weight behind it now? She had never been a slouch in the political sphere, of course, but she had always had opponents. Maybe the rapidly shifting galaxy had unsettled the Matriarchs more then she had anticipated? Regardless, if it helped the Republics then it was useful. She waited until Iressia was out of the temple for a few moments before heading towards a side door. “Come along Alenia, lets go talk to the science team.” She said, heading down into the depths of the temple, and the research center that had long ago been built beneath it.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sat May 04, 2019 9:34 pm

Calling to the Void

Jump Point Acheron, Tikkun System
Timestamp: Upwards Phi-Tertiary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

It had been previously just another jewel in the constellation around Rannoch, a nameless destroyer-asset held against the day of need. Now its burners carried it away from the light of the warm star that had been its home for centuries, ten thousand intelligence aboard it and its sister-ship calculating trajectories and manipulating course-patterns to carry the humble half-capital ship safely to its destination.

Long ago the Creators had named it Accolade, the brightest star in the sky in the time of trials for those who came of age. Their astronomers had classified it, gazed upon it - but no Mass Relay had ever graced the system that the Creators had so named, and so their interest had been purely academic. A thousand lifetimes and more, no creature had stirred under the gaze of the white-yellow wayfarer, but no longer.

The journey was long, by the standards of creatures of blood and bone and brain. Weeks in the ether, sublights driven to maximum, reactors consuming valuable fuel in copious quantities that dwindled with every passing day. But the minds that rode the twin vessels were no weak beings of organic composition, prone to boredom, or the terror of isolation. In each data-node a hundred streams of thought twined and flourished, each scrap of information gleaned by long range sensors dissected and analyzed for potential extrapolations. It had not cost insubstantial amounts of potential manufacturing and enemy investment to drive the outriders this far from inhabited systems, but such outlays were logical, rational.

That was the nature of patience, of reason. Of the synthetic that could assess courses of actions for viability without the cloying aura of emotion. True; there was something strange about the exploring spirit as embodied by the production units which teemed within the hulls of the destroyer and fabrication vessel. Perhaps the Creators would have felt awe as they peered upon their prize, been more trepedatious about hurtling themselves into the uncharted void to catalog the confines of the cosmos.

None of the Geth that accompanied the expedition had the honor of being Quarians though. And the Great Work required more resources, resources which were most easily acquired from unspoiled sectors of space. And so, the system known as Accolade unfolded before their meticulous gaze.

by **Nuxipal** » Sat May 04, 2019 11:48 pm

We are the harbinger of your perfection

Index Alpha System, Clouded Twilight

Nazara moves through the Void. A geth crew 'piloting' and maintaining his systems as he interfaces with the relay in the system directing it towards one of its connections. The Geth which had started to follow him had taken to worshiping the Reapers as deities known as Old Machines. He, though named Nazara, was being called Sovereign by them. It was unfortunate that these synthetics were hopelessly primitive compared to his own hardware. They would make excellent shock troops in coming cycles, but first this cycle needed to be completed. He was already late in activating the Mass Relay in the Citadel. The Keepers on the station were either not receiving his signal, ignored it, or had it blocked somehow. He would find out one way or another.

To begin this process he was sending a small force to one of the various minuscule settlements far from civilized space. He could not risk his operations in these far flung regions from being reported on and this was the first of his targets. Eventually he would have to step up his acts to clear a path to the Citadel, though this would be a major first step. He watches his forces cross beyond and he closes the relay behind them giving them a signal to reactivate the relay so they can return when their expeditions are completed.

Newton, Kepler Verge

The System's mass relay seemed to flash a yellow color briefly, as a new connection is made and then lost. Seemingly an error as the Geth Fleet enters the system and is picked up by the small colonial station on Ontarom. They attempt to send a signal through, however they only manage a couple of words before they are cut off by the ships arriving in low orbit and deploying directly onto the colony.

Geth Prime - Unit Dawn -

The Prime and an assault force landed near the colony's center. There were less than 200 humans on the entire planet, all lived here. They would clear this colony and set up dragons teeth to create husks of the colonists. As the Prime enters the primary defense structure of the colony he faced a dozen light pistol rounds. These resistors were put down as the Spec Ops team the Prime led had infiltrated the upper levels of the structure previously. The remaining civilians huddled together briefly as Geth Troopers began to round them up and bring them outside where several dozen dragon's teeth are set up.

Dawn grabs the first of the colonists and places them on the table-like object. A moment later the spike lifted the man into the air and the transformation process began. Screams from the other colonists as they recoiled and more were grabbed by the other Primes and regular units alike. Dawn's second victim tried to break free, which prompted the only words any colonist heard that day. "Your organic flailings amuse me." By the end of the day, nearly 200 husks roamed the colony without direction.

by **Greater Istanistan** » Sun May 05, 2019 6:20 pm

NEW ARMALI CITY, 2700 HOURS ILLIUM STANDARD

“This world’s days of hedonism and excess are numbered, bitch! The Prophet will flay you for your-“

Whatever enlightenment the fanatic protestor – a Turian in a blue hooded robe – was going to offer was cut short as Public Security Inspector Ansaia Kryia effortlessly spun her shotgun in her hands, gripped the barrel, and swung it like a baseball bat directly into the protestor’s left arm while igniting a brief corona of biotic force. The weapon was a dated but bulky Batarian State Arms Executioner, built like a brick and as heavy as one to boot. Beneath its impact the protestor’s ribcage gave way with an audible crunch and his body was sent flying into the wall of the elegant promenade. The blinding spotlight of the police gunship hovering nearby cast his body in an eerie light.

The Inspector reversed the weapon, aimed it directly upwards, and fired it into the air. In an instant, a chorus of shouting gave way to complete silence.

“Right”, Kryia muttered to herself, inspecting the promenade.

The Turian she’d just pulverized was crumpled against a shop façade. He’d have gone through the plate-glass windows and shattered the logo – “Amaranthine Imports (Armali luxury goods, crafts, and products for the discerning customer)” if not for the prudent localized shield. Evidently the owner had some money to throw around. Most of the other shops lining the winding retail strip had taken similar precautions. The few which hadn’t were already beginning to burn, courtesy of the mob confronting Kryia and her nervous deputies.

With the storefronts on the left built into a wall segment of a terraced shopping-combine which stretched up under the open air for miles and a fragile glass railing on the right dividing the promenade from a miles-deep void and the endless towers of Illium, the mob assembled before Inspector Kryia had only two ways to go – forward towards their objective, or back along the promenade and home. Forward meant through her and her gaggle of nervous deputies. She eyed the crowd. That wouldn’t be pretty.

“If I could have your attention”, she shouted, and pointed at the shattered form of the Turian. “He came at me first. According to the Colonial Charter of Illium, in doing so he violated the principle of non-aggression and I was entitled to defend myself.”

She racked the shotgun and fired it. The Turian exploded. The mob wavered.

“Behind me”, she continued, “is San Hal Essa Square. The Merchant’s Association which jointly owns that square has refused you permission to enter. This is within their rights. If you persist in attempting to enter that square – once again, according to the Colonial Charter – I am entitled to kill all of you.”

“F*ck you, whore of the ruling elites!”, somebody screamed from the mob, now pressed up less than ten feet away from her. There were shouts of agreement. The deputies shifted nervously. The group before them was an eclectic group of around 200 – mostly Turians, with a few Salarians and one or two Humans mixed in. Mostly armed with pipes and sticks, and all clothed in the same off-blue she’d seen on the now-slain man. Apparently, they were part of a larger wave of marches organized by a “Fraternity of the New Temple” which was catching on among the immigrant workers. A few held placards proclaiming the need to “Kneel before the Word Revealed” and “Embrace the New Spirits of the Terminus”. Cultists, she thought, crawling forth from some damnable commune and hooked on the words of their third-rate prophet. Imitators. Rabble. Inhabitants of a second-hand dream. Parasites.

Scum.

“Give me the chance”, Detective Kryia stated, “and I’ll take it gladly.”

There was dead silence. Kryia recognized a moment of decision. The trick with Turians was that they were stubborn, but followed the herd. They were supposedly impossible to break, but when they did they would together. And this wasn’t a trained legion – it was a mob. You had to shatter their will with blood.

The mass started to advance. It was imperceptible at first – the people in the front never made that choice. Some idiot further back always did – it was a push, a trip, a stumble, a craning for a look that swiftly turned into a mass rush forward, turning an accident into pure steely mass resolve. They’d made their idiot choice, and they’d abide by it. She’d lose no sleep.

“This is Kryia to IPDF Gunship Aethylith-13”, she called into the comms channel, clearing the shotgun chamber as she talked. The deputies, well-trained but nervous all, raised their rifles. The spotlight swung towards the crowd.

“On my authorization, target the crowd and fire for effect.”

Gunfire, then screams, enveloped the Illium night.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“To retain its greatness and weather the current economic slump, Illium must always remember its first principles – the worth of the individual, the hard work of the self-starter, and the dignified virtue of getting absolutely filthy rich and staying that way without some anal-retentive bureaucrat sticking their hands in your pockets unprompted. Unless that’s your thing, in which case all power to you.”

A titter of laughter washed over the packed room.

“Of course”, added Aeita Nassanos, “as President of the Manufacturer’s Association I know which one of these I’m personally most attached to. With that in mind, any questions?”

Cameras flickered as Nassanos – at a vibrant 400, the youngest person to ever achieve her position – swept her eyes across the mass of reporters. Her rather more dour predecessor had deliberately avoided a media presence to “focus on core duties”. Before retiring, she’d warned Nassanos that the newspapers were glorified tabloids, the extranet was for smut, and the truth could be established by scrolling the holochannels and picking out whatever they weren’t saying. Nassanos’ view of the press was, if anything, more jaundiced – but they had their moments.

“Yes, in the front.”

“Iraela Armys, Nos Astra Tribune. If you don’t mind me asking, what in Athame’s name are you wearing?”

“The dress? Dior, Systems Alliance. It’s a bit downscale for me, but let’s consider this ethnic outreach. I do so like barbarian costumes. Next?”

“Ineri Qonalos, Nan Heia Post. Can you speak to the rumor that you-“

“True! Next!”

“Eltrix Kryin, New Palaven Community Star.”

Ah, a serious question.

“Any comment on the 85 immigrant workers slaughtered by the Public Security Inspectorate outside San Hal Essa Square during a peaceful protest?”

“Mr. Kryin, I know it’s difficult in these times, but we have to be nuanced. Yes, they had no right to be there, had damaged property, and were provoked into the march by a dangerous cult movement. Yes, some among them had undoubtedly violated the Colonial Charter. And yes, of the more than 2000 marchers, only one column was subjected to this violence. I think the government’s suspension of the responsible party was just and the best way to handle that tragic situation. But the Manufacturer’s Association will always stand in defence of individual liberties and unpopular opinions, and the fact that a government agent – who we trust with the defence of our security and freedom – perpetrated such a terrible and utterly unnecessary slaughter is unconscionable. With that in mind, I’d like to announce that the Association will be spending its own funds to pay the families of the victims for funeral expenses. Yes?”

“Erina Vinnos, New Social Democrat. Given the reporting we’ve published about the financial subsidies given to the Order of the New Temple by several Association members in exchange for services in money-laundering, union-busting, labour intimidation, and disinformation campaigns against government agents investigating customs malfeasance, wouldn’t it be fairer to describe those payments as recompense for an intimidation campaign against a non-Association commercial group that went sour, especially given that the Order proscribes so-called ‘veneration of the dead after the departure of the spirit’?”

“Do they now? Surprise to me! Maybe they’ll buy something useful with our contribution to the bereaved – a new censor, maybe? I mean, of course, the thing that disperses incense. Next!”

“Irissa Nievos, Morning Patriot. We spent the last year conducting an in-depth investigation which concluded that you spend around 100,000 Council Credits a week on Hallex, which you cut with Creeper and Hanar venom before dosing your employees with it to extract blackmail material and sexual favours. It’s been suggested that this is how you forced the retirement of your predecessor. We’re publishing tomorrow. Comments?”

“All I’m going to say is that technically, none of that is illegal on Illium. Land of the free, friends! One more – you in the back.”

“Aryssa Aniat, Tuvhalos City Independent. We all appreciate the benevolent deeds of the Association. Recently, however, our paper has uncovered a repeated pattern of payments from Thessian corporate groups and the Church of Athame to the Manufacturer’s Association’s poverty-relief school board, which has steadily seen a shift in historical and cultural curricula. Is this a deliberate attempt to undermine our cultural and social order, or are the payments into your personal bank account to support your drug habit your reason?”

There was an almost – almost – imperceptible pause.

“I resent your insinuations”, Nassanos responded, “and they wound me. Our charitable work has been a millennia-long tradition of social and cultural commitment to the founding ideals of the Free Republic, and they are operated with the utmost transparency. And let's be honest, if I were actually being bribed by big Thessian capital, I sure as hell wouldn't still be using Hallex. We’re done here.”

It was only once the press were cleared that Nassanos grabbed an aide.

“Call everyone”, she stated flatly. “I want Vinnios’ sources found, sued into bankruptcy, and sold into Batarian space. We can’t touch her directly, but get us some dirt – nobody trusts the Syndicalists anyways. I want Aniat dead. And get whoever let either of them into my press conference without anticipating this crap into my office within the half-hour, then clear the top floor. We need to have some words.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A wide, slightly musty office. The sweeping desk is choked in vast drifts of paper and clear of the usual sentimental tchotchkes – paperweights, family pictures, awards, snowglobes – that grace most workspaces. A small computer, on closer examination almost nine hundred years old, chugs away in the corner. There is no light except for a series of guttering lamps. The desk’s occupant is clearly advanced in age. She hunches over a paper printout – although that was retro long before she started work – and peers through her glasses at it. “Rash, Inspector”, she mutters in a dry voice, “almost too rash.” But she nods in appreciation. She reaches for a pen, scribbles a note on the bottom of the report, reads it over twice, and carefully squares the pages. From the sole clear section of her desk, she carefully picks up a stamp. She rolls it methodically in the red inkpad – once, twice – before bringing it down firmly on the front page of the document. In another moment, it is ensconced in a simple brown folder and in the hands of an unremarkable secretary, who steps out of a low-rent second-floor office building in a lower-income section of the city and vanishes into the crowds.

On the page, the stamp dries. There is no logo, only a simple line of text. “Central Office, Public Security Bureau”. Most would not recognize this name. Those who do would deny it.

In the Free Republic, the only secrets that last are the well-kept ones.

by **Kinistian** » Sun May 05, 2019 11:19 pm

The Eclipse

ILLIUM CHAPTER||JONA SEDERIS||NOS ASTRA

Jona sat quietly in the darkness of her extravagant condo. Her purple face staring at a small monitor that hovered over her her desk. Her face illuminated as she watched the footage from New Armali City, crowds of protesters being gun downed by a foolish inspector wielding a shotgun like she was a Krogan before being assisted by a Gunship. A cold sadistic smile crept along her face and stood up to walk to the large window that showed the night life of Nos Astra.

“My my what a interesting today this as been. A massacre that I was not apart of.....I feel somewhat offended.” she said with a small crackling laugh. “Though I suppose I can work this to my advantage. Show these fat cats why it’s important to leave security in the hands of experts”she went on before bringing up her Omni tool to contact the leader of Huntresses.

A helmeted Asari answered her Master’s call “What are your orders boss” the robotic Asari voice asked as it stared into the screen.” An opportunity has come to our doorstep. I want you to find the leader of these cultist in New Armali, supply them with weapons and encourage them to take revenge against the Security Offices. Then when the Chaos and Death have been marinated. We will offer our services to the highest bidder” Jona said as a wicked smiled crept along her face.” It will be done” the Asari assures before the link was cut off by Jona.

ILLIUM CHAPTER||JONA’S HUNTRESSES|| CUSTOM OFFICES

It had only been 2 hours since Jona ordered her Elite huntresses in field, and already they were executing her will having traveled to New Armali in shuttles Eclipse Gunships. They landed on a port operated by their Salarian brothers the Head Hunter’s who greeted them on the dock. “ Have you anything on yesterday’s massacre?” The Asari Commander asked her Salarian counterpart. “Yes, it appears the perpetrators of the protest were led by a Turian who operates in the lower levels of the city, recruiting the down trotted as well as Turian migrant workers” he informed as they walked along the dockyard towards their safe house. “ Do you have a location where might this prophet be?” The Asari asked which the Salarian replied “No, not exactly. Though a safe bet is that he operates around the area where the massacre took place”. “Very well, me and my crew will search the lower levels for this madman. Just make sure those weapons arrive on time.” She warned her comrade who nodded and left her to her own devices.

It didn’t take long for the Huntress to find one of the street preachers in the dark under belly of Illium. The Mercs while cloaked surrounded the crowd and the preacher before de cloaking and firing up into the air to disperse the crowd. A Turian who was probably the Preacher’s bodyguard raised a pistol at them but a Huntress grabbed him from behind and shot him with her shotgun before tossing him over the ledge. Two other commandos held the unconscious preacher as they all loaded onto a shuttle and flew to a rare vacant warehouse.

There they strapped the Turian to a chair and splashed him with water to wake him up. “Good evening Preacher!” The Commander said as the golden hue of her optics scanned over the frightened maggot. “Where’s this Holy Man of your’s? A very special individual wants to make him an offer” she said before the door to the room they were in was closed.

OMEGA CHAPTER||JAROTH||ECLIPSE TERRITORY OMEGA

Omega has always been teetering on a knife’s edge perhaps now even more so with Aria’s little Confederacy. If it wasn’t for her controlling the station’s gun batteries or her warships, Jaroth doubted her Confederation would have lasted as long as it has. Still, this is Omega, survival of the fittest will always rule here no matter calls themselves it’s ruler. The fighting will always persist no matter how much Aria would like to see it stop.

The Blood Pack are wild Varren, they only submit to the whims of Omega’s Queen is because she has a very big stick to beat them with. The Blue Suns Leadership have been seduced by her and most likely won’t betray her but maybe she sees them as the biggest threat, which is why they are so close to her. The Eclipse on the other hand are there because they knew they couldn’t risk Aria setting the other two gangs on their territory, losing Omega would be a serious blow to the Company’s Smuggling Rings.

Jaroth would have to play lap dog to two Asari Queens, juggling the demands of each without looking like a traitor. A hard job but Jaroth wouldn’t be where he is now if this job was easy.

DATE CHAPTER|| MASAMUNE || TRIDENT

Masamune was kneeling before a window in his residence. His eyes in meditation as the warm tropic sun of Trident blessed him with it’s warmth as he meditated. He wore the traditional garb of his culture with his sword laying on a rack next to him. Masamune had lived quite the life in his short time in the Universe. A son of a famous family back on Earth, a ex Alliance Spec Ops Commander, turned soldier of fortune. He was perhaps the only honorable man in the Eclipse and it’s only Human Chapter Master, a title he wears with pride.

He had led the occupation and subsequent the new government of this island paradise. Turning it into the Eclipse’s Secret HQ . A place to fall back too if things got to rough. But now after a year of building, Masamune has grown restless, his only hope is not some warlord or something needed some extra muscle which his Chapter could easily provide.

by **Theyra** » Mon May 06, 2019 7:02 pm

Hanar Illuminated Primacy
Kahje
Voss

"Are you sure about this Voss? The Drell have contributed much to the Primacy and have served as our spies, assassins and other roles for us. They are more than willing to simply live on Kahje as they do now". Voss's assistant Ios, a relatively average looking Hanar. Voss and his assistant were walking on their way to Voss's office.

"I am sure about this, while the Drell are comfortable living on Kahje, they risk their lives doing so. Kepral's Syndrome is an incurable disease that inflicts that Drell that live on our homeworld. Their biology is not suited for a world like us and for all that the Drell have done for us since we rescued them from their dying homeworld. The Drell have deserved a new homeworld that they can thrive on and we are going to find them a new homeworld.

"But, sir wouldn't it be easier for them if we just colonized Rakhana? There are Drell living in groups on Rakhana".

Quickly responding, "And how much of Rakhana is still habitable and can sustain a large population of say a million. I have checked on the population of the Drell that live on Rakhana never a few thousand and the only time when their numbers go up is during the pilgrimage season. Rakhana is a cemetery world and I would only consider settling Rakhana if we are reverse the damage done to the planet. Otherwise, we are not giving the Drell, our partners our protectors the best that we can give them". Voss speaking a serious tone thought the conversation and the two reached Voss's office. His room was medium sized and relatively modest for a ruler of a species. Voss went to his desk and Ios stood in front of the desk.

"I understand Voss and what do you want me to do sir?

"I want to do help Famos with the preparations which have already started. Voss picked up a datapad from his desk and handed it to Ios. "We are right now looking at possible sites for colonization and I had Famos scout ahead with a small team".

"I see sir and how much of head start does your Drell assistant have?

"We start a week ago and I am bringing everyone up to speed about this".

"I..I see sir and is there anything else that you want me to do?

"Not at the moment besides helping Famos.... wait didn't you have something for me?

"Oh... right, the information about the new settlements on Verdant Spring and Calm Wave. Which both are going as well as planned". Ios handed Voss the datapad.

Good, good and now go and help Famos, please.

"Yes sir, I will go now and may the Enkindlers bless you". Ios left the room and Voss looked over the datapad. Some big changes were coming for the Primacy, mainly with the Drell and hopefully, Voss will be able to fulfill his plan will work out without a hitch.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Tue May 07, 2019 1:30 pm

Dreams Dreaded

Mainframe Tidal Chirality, Tikkun System
Timestamp: Upwards Rho-Primary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

The vidfeeds piped into the multiple defragmentation chambers were discouraging. War and bloodshed. With a familiar sound to many of the creations of the Quarians, rotary cannons scythed down protesters at the orders of a militant faction. Press conferences full of lies, falsehoods, and the chicanery of hypocrites. Organic races had much to learn, and they were so divided that it seemed to the Onlooker that their nascence yet clung to their flesh.

Within the chamber of milisteel and soft molded polymite, the Onlooker dreamed. It was a luxury, to devote cycles to the trimming of errant pieces of code, the rejuvenation of the mind and body through the recompiling of the sentiences that danced within one platform so they could act in great concord. But the specialized independent Geth were afforded such opportunities, for the good of the Consensus. One thought conceived of at just the right time, shared with the many, could be the difference between flourishing and failure.

Outwardly quiet and still, within the defragmentation chamber the Onlooker's mind whirled across an endless sea of stars, cast adrift from the moorings of its physical confines. Geth did not dream, but allowing the normally suborned processes of metastable irrationality to flourish aided in the rejuvenation process, and it was the closest the seat of fundament of the Created beings would ever get to such a state. For days the Onlooker lay immobile, soul disassembled and rebuilt around the core of sapience emergent from its underlying fabric.

Into the thoughts of the Onlooker, overseer of the shipyards of the Homeworld, thoughts strayed unbidden. Not alien, not like might be the case in the Fallen, but like bubbles coursing to the surface of some primordial swamp - known, but unlooked for, strange and wild things creeping out of the jungle of the dark places of the mind.

A thousand ships of might, a fleet beyond reckoning. An armada born in stellar crucibles and forges the size of moons. Wrought metal and reinforced plate, spinal mounted mass drivers and gargantuan fighter-swarms. Enough military might to conquer a galaxy, to lay low any civilization - to make even the strongest of the scions of the Citadel lay down their arms in awe and miserable surrender, knowledge of their fate and the futility of their actions defined.

At the bows of the strength of the fleet a twinkling began, invisible vibrations coursing through the Onlooker's frame as it reposed in state, a water and voyeur upon an unknown time; the soundless roar of kinetics, the force of gods hurled beyond the ken of eye or sensor to seek what must be destroyed beyond the edge of sight. It was a glorious affray - the resounding chorus doubling and redoubling, enough power incorporated in that volley to slag a planet's crust or crack its core.

And into the inky void it disappeared as the Onlooker watched. Muffled explosions clouded by rollicking shadow, effervescent midnight consuming the brilliant flashes of industrial destruction. The space between the stars moved, oily and unnatural, a mockery of the purity that normally occupied that darkness. Geth were not afraid of the dark - not that any artificial beings felt fear in the first place, but the void held no unease for their nearly impervious forms, no ancestral memories of things hunting in the shadows. But the Onlooker was still disquieted as the enfolding shadows approached and then extinguished the lights across the immense armada.

Once the repair process was at last completed, the platform trundled out of its berth, being replaced by another unit patiently waiting for its time of rejuvenation. Disquiet filled its communications for a time, images and impressions shared throughout programs of similar temperament; that week more military assets were placed higher in the production queues of the immense fabrication yards orbiting Rannoch. Geth were not irrational, not subject to superstitions about the prophetic power of dreams.

But they did understand the theory of such matters.

by **Greater Istanistan** » Thu May 09, 2019 12:06 pm

The Public Security Bureau maintained dozens of offices across the planet. Nos Astra’s was, by most standards, the most outwardly impressive. A 40-story skyscraper done in the popular twisting, willowy glass style seemed far too fragile to host the planet’s most grimly paranoid organization – if one didn’t account for the dreadnought-tier shield generators buried in the basement, the single entry/exit point, and the sizeable park surrounding the power which would serve as a massive freefire zone with unobstructed lines of sight. As with everything about the Illium government, it exuded a paradoxical mix of unobtrusiveness and obvious menace.

Inside, quiet lines of clerks, analysts, and functionaries pored over endless data-feeds. Everything came through here – birth and death records, shipping information, financial transactions, stock prices, social media postings, public opinion polling, and endless other datapoints. Day after day, month after month, information flowed through. In direct contrast to the riot of liberty and hierarchy-establishing fashion present in most Illium workplaces, the public servants were all in simple uniform – old-fashioned by Asari standards, but hardly without style. None of this much bothered Inspector Kryia as she rapped on a frosted-glass door bluntly labelled “Office of the Public Security Commissioner, Nos Astra”. After a moment, a weary voice called from inside – “Enter.”

Kryia found the Commissioner – they’d never met before, let alone exchanged names - bent over her immaculately clean desk, rubbing her temples and glaring holes in a piece of paper sitting on her desk, pinned under some sort of ultra-modernist paperweight. Of course it was a cube. Scanning the report – the only out-of-place object in an otherwise frigidly spartan space – Kryia noted with some interest that it was the last report she’d filed since being put on administrative leave.

“Ah”, she remarked drily, “so this is about the massacre.”

The Commissioner – a young Asari, possibly younger than Kryia, and almost annoyingly unscarred - didn’t respond, instead motioning to a disturbingly ergonomic chair in front of the desk.

“Feel free to sit.”

Instead, Kryia folded her hands behind her back, stiffened her posture, and took pleasure in the Commissioner’s fleeting look of annoyance.

“Inspector Ansai Kryia, reporting for duty as requested.”

“Sit, Inspector.”

“Protocol dictates, Commissioner, that I stand at attention for a superior officer… You are a superior officer, aren’t you?”

“I am”, the Commissioner responded, finally looking up from the report. There was anger in that glance. “And I’m ordering you to sit.” After a few more moments of quiet non-compliance, the Commissioner seemed to snap. “AT EASE, INSPECTOR! NOW SIT!”

Having learned everything she needed to, Inspector Kryia unceremoniously pulled up the chair and slumped into it. With obvious deliberation, she leaned forwards, planted her elbows on the table, and cupped her chin in her hands before glancing down at her report. It took years of practice to disguise her shock – Central Office? She’d never heard of it, which meant it was somebody that mattered. Time to go fishing.

The Commissioner’s teeth ground as she leaned back.

“Somebody in the government”, she remarked, “loves you.”

“It happens”, Kryia drawled, “on account of my diligence, dashing demeanour, and charm.”

That provoked a bitter laugh from the Commissoner – it was getting slightly embarrassing not even knowing her name.

“Do you see my holoconn, Inspector Kryia?”

She cast her eyes around the room and came up blank.

“No – keep it in a private suite for special calls?”

“I got too many angry calls from the Turian Embassy”, the Commissioner responded, “and hung up on them in the middle of a typical hours-long tirade. When the Ambassador personally visited me to complain about his treatment, I proceeded to pick up the Holoconn and physically compress it into a paperweight before telling him to bother Diplomatic Affairs instead. That was a mistake because he no longer visits me, but the Religious Freedom Trust sends couriers to personally deliver court summons on behalf of dead and injured clients who were – and I quote – ‘repressed for the non-crime of self-expression’. That’s where my Holoconn is.”

There was only one paperweight in the room. Kryia allowed herself to be impressed.

“Look, Commissioner –“ and she scanned the room desperately for a clue, before spotting a diploma on the wall – Faerin Armalos, doctor of law, University of Nos Astra, graduating class of 2178? - “Armalos”, she spat out, recovering as gracefully as possible, “I know you didn’t get your position through fieldwork, so let me put it this way. You know that the Colonial Charter grants the right to kill in defence of one’s life and property. You know that the Government exists to serve as a proxy for those who cannot defend it themselves. I was attacked, I defended myself within the bounds of the law, and when the rest of the crowd chose to charge me and my deputies – an obvious initiation of force – I responded within the limits of my judgement and resolved the issue. You’ll note that my sector was the only one where rioters didn’t enter San Hal Essa Square. I’d say, Commissioner Armalos, that I did my duty as a Public Security Inspector.”

“And my duty”, responded Commissioner Armalos, “is to preserve the moral and legal standing of the Government of Illium. You may have been within your rights to slaughter that crowd, but I’m equally within my rights – and presently inclined – to make you an ex-Public Security Inspector.”

Kryia laughed, folded her arms, and leaned further in.

“Try me, Commissioner. Besides, we both know there’s no such thing.”

She let that sink in.

“And”, Kryia added, leaving her bait, “there’s that.”

She tapped on the form, then leaned back.

“Central Office. Never seen that before.”

Armalos’ silence was all she needed.

“That confirms what I’d suspected.”, Kryia continued. “I’m not a riot specialist – usually work political, where my record more than speaks for itself. The higher-ups put me there for a reason – it means I was expected to deal with that mob in the same way I dealt with the Patriotic Youth League.”

“The League Incident was you?”

Suddenly, Kryia felt she was in dangerous territory.

“That situation… Didn't play out the way I hoped it would.”

“So which inconvenience were you supposed to deal with on this little debacle? Or do you just kill what your puppet-masters tell you to without questioning, for the hell of it?”

Best to dodge the brunt of that one and cast another lure.

“You read the New Social Democrat?”

“That syndicalist rag? What are you, a mass murderer and a red?”

Ah, that helped.

“Nevermind. What I’m trying to get at is that there’s solid reporting that the Manufacturer’s Association provides hefty payoffs to the immigrant cults and pan-Terminus sects to carry out their dirty work – strike-breaking, shaking down opponents, intimidating non-members, that sort of thing. The Order of the New Spirits was a group of nobodies six months ago. Now they’ve got thousands of members and a fortified compound in the lower levels, and by all indications they’re pretty well-armed. I can’t personally prove anything yet, but I would venture that whatever Central Office is put me on this particular beat to give them a bloody nose and send a message up the line.”

Armalos was nodding almost despite herself. Kryia reflected that she was significantly more attractive when angry, and that this sudden calm was concerning.

“That could explain most everything”, the Commissioner ventured, before continuing. “A worthwhile deduction, Inspector. But it’s missing one key element.”

“Which is?”

“Someone else made me your boss, and I don’t give a damn about your Central Office. In fact, I’d venture to suggest that I was put on the track to a seven hundred year career in civil service JUST to fire you!”

She laughed, and continued.

“You’re the perfect conspiracy theorist, Inspector – self-centred and sloppy on details. I don’t care about the Turians, your sense of duty, or for that matter this shitty little office in this shitty little apparatus. I just hate you for what you did and who you represent, Inspector, and taking away your precious job seems fitting. You have five minutes to clear this building. If I see you again, I’ll kill you myself.”

It all snapped into place, leaving the Inspector with the assured courage of someone who – in that particular situation – had nothing to lose. Why the hell not?

“You asked if I enjoyed killing without thinking about it, Armalos? No, I don’t. I count and consider every individual kill, over and over, for years.”

She stood, knocking the chair back, and sketched a crisp salute.

“And then”, she stated matter-of-factly, eyes locked with the furious Commissioner, “Then I enjoy it.”

Armalos’ biotics lit up and the room began to crumple inwards on itself, so Kryia simply punched her in the throat and left her wheezing.

==================================================================================================================================================================

Outside the building, in the park, Kryia’s datapad buzzed. A single message, unmarked, from an unknown sender. ==THERE IS NO SUCH THING==, it read, ==AS A FORMER PUBLIC SECURITY INSPECTOR==.

So she smiled, and made a call.

“Callis, it’s me… Yes, Kryia. Look, you owe me one… I think refraining from torturing you to death gets me something-… Look, in fairness, you deserved it… Don’t bullshit me, Callis, or I’ll find you and finish the job. It’s a simple matter, nothing strenuous. Just tell Jona Sederis that I know who her thugs are tearing up the underlevels looking for, that I know where he is, and that I want to cut a deal.”

She hung up abruptly. Nothing more needed to be said.

by **Kinistian** » Thu May 09, 2019 1:53 pm

Eclipse

Illium Chapter||Jona Sederis||Nos Astra

A black and white shuttle approach the villa owned by Jona Sederis. It’s black tinted windows hiding the occupants, Inspector Kryia and two Eclipse troopers acting as her body guards. Soon the cab stopped and the troopers got out to give way the party Jona was throwing. Lights of all shades shun from the many windows as music echoed throughout the tower. The perimeter was aligned with Eclipse Troopers, scanning guests and turning away the uninvited.

“This way Inspector” one of her Eclipse body guards said and motioned her to the main entrance. “Lady Sederis will be waiting for you on the balcony”he would instruct before leaving the Inspector to her own devices.

Jona was right where the trooper said she was. On the balcony overlooking her own party while her guests had their fun, be it music or one of the lovely dancers her manger brought up from the lower levels. In her hand was a data pad watching intently at the security footage of the other day’s shooting before swiping to a live feed of another Turian her Huntresses we’re torturing.

by **Nuxipal** » Thu May 09, 2019 5:00 pm

8. Geth Consensus:
Economic Outlook: Stable (Rolled average and thus the economic number did not change in a positive or negative way)

Exploration Status: Ahead of schedule, ships departing Tikkun system with full supplies and without any difficulties. (Roll was higher than average and a mining ship accompanied the expedition giving the explorers a small boost in supplies and preparedness.)

Research Status: Research Allocation: Fracture Automation [12.5/40] (Simple acknowledgement that your Research was seen, so if you don't see a research section listed on your update when you have Research underway, please let me know.)

Espionage: +2 IP from Intelligence Center and Elite Specialist Wanderer. Elite Specialists deployed to Dholen and Ma-at increasing the awareness of the Consensus to these regions. (IP gain, to be spent as needed. Elite Specialist/SPECTRE deployments noted here. Also any mentions of them discovering corruption will be in this section as well)

The Consensus is working efficiently and is on track to accomplish its current tasks without any hardship. (No additional Events)

by **Lunas Legion** » Thu May 09, 2019 5:19 pm

Cerberus Cell IV: Ontarom

Juan Fernandez liked to consider himself a hard man to surprise. He was an ex-Alliance Marine, a survivor of the Skyllian Blitz who'd been on leave on Elysium. He'd lost family there. Friends. But he'd kept his head on his shoulders and they'd thrown the Batarians off world after a good few hours of fighting. He hadn't been lucky enough to be selected for their counter-offensive against Torfan, owing to injuries sustained on Elysium that earned him an honourable discharge a month afterwards, but Elysium had lit a fire in him that still smouldered to this day.

But what he saw down his binoculars surprised even him.

"Danny, can-"

He handed the pair of binoculars off to his comrade as they sat in the tiny observation hide near the crest of a ridge within line of sight of Ontarom's main colony, living in blissful ignorance of the Cerberus outpost on the far side of the planet. They didn't interact with the colony, in fact their only involvement was this two-person observation outpost that they used to keep an eye on the colony and the small Alliance base present there.

"Yeah, I see them."

"What are they?"

Danny shrugged. "Bad news."

"Yeah." Juan let out a long, slow, calming breath. "Bad news. You're recording this?"

"Of course." Danny rolled his eyes. "Then when they've all fucked off, we'll uncover the VT7 and drive back over to the main base, send this all to Central. They'll know what to do with this."

Juan nodded. "Doesn't sit right with me though. Just to stand here and watch them butcher everyone."

"At least we know." Danny shrugged. "Only two people in the Galaxy who do. And Central will know what to do."

"Keep an eye on them." Juan said, handing the pair of binoculars off to his comrade. "I need a nap after watching that."

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Thu May 09, 2019 7:18 pm

The Terrible Strength

Orbital Shipyard Designation Primarch, High Rannoch Oribt Tikkun System
Timestamp: Senescent Ceta-Septary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

The Foreman's manipulators touched the projected environment, invisible datapulses of a thousand kilometers of length adjusting the incoming stream of materials from one of the Kuiper Belt mining sectors. As seamlessly as the dance of insects in a hive, the immense ore-freighters began curving slightly above the elliptic plane of the driveyards, allowing egress of a new fabrication segment from the Lagrange manufactorum to descend.

Production is engaged at 98.5% utilization. Query: Tactical platforms and strategic command request expansion of concerns to accommodate further construction.

The Acolyte's head tilted, reinforcing the question with physical demonstration. It was an affectation which had no impact on the Foreman, the sable unit bent to its work barely registering the motion, save for its asynchronous nature. But the Acolyte had more functionality than most units, and that was within acceptable parameters for deviance. For a half-cycle the logistician in charge of Rannoch immense shipyard contemplated the request.

Material inputs were only increasing. External threats were assessed with troublesome margins of error for the cessation of large numbers of sentiences and potential for long term damage to the primary operating directives. The consensus had previously favored adaptation and quiet quiescence to uncontrolled factors, resilience in the face of adversity. Shifting mores and conclusions shaped by recent data inputs were beneficial to the Foreman's continued objectives.

Acknowledged. Assess capability to place facilities at geosynchronous orbit, pursuant to avoiding disruption to ongoing operations of priorities secondary and higher. Assessment code: preliminary.

The Geth worlds that had been held in trust for the Creators had been long ago ringed in military hardware, fleets capable of preventing retributive actions from misguided members of the exiled betrayers or from fearful organics moved to war by their stories. It had been a necessary precaution, and a distraction to the great work which many had thought ill-advised due to the timescales involved for fabrication of such assets. But the ability to project force of the races beyond the protection of the Veil had only increased of late, despite minor efforts to nudge their societies towards more peaceful endeavors. It was an unstable equilibrium - an equilibrium which had grown more volatile with the expansion of power in the Terminus.

And that was an equilibrium which held too much variability for many minds in the consensus. Thus the expansion ongoing of the military arm of the Geth. Organics were bound by strictures, convention, diplomacy, to hold themselves back from assigning sufficient units for their defensive needs. Every ship the Foreman commissioned was completed at a speed few civilizations beyond Rannoch could match, designed with an eye to weaponry and utilitarianism which the sensibilities of the Citadel and their minor tagalongs would struggle to implement even psychologically, let alone physically.

Nine more Dreadnoughts. A force greater than many civilizations possessed, monolithic bulks consuming the resources of entire worlds in their infancy. That was the necessity the First Prime had authorized, and the reason that the normally sacrosanct space above the homeworld of the Creators swarmed with caretaking equipment, supply barges, and factory ships in their thousands. Though the surface was untouched, unspoilt save for the atmospheric nodes which served to tend and cherish the biosphere, the cradle of the synthetic race hummed with activity.

And at the heart of it all, the Hyperdreadnought. An informal classification, applied to the prototype that fielded enough firepower to lay waste to entire fleets. It was the proving ground for a hundred technologies, a masterpiece that could lead the way to a new age of security and assurance of continuance for the Geth. But it was not yet finished.

The Foreman manipulated another strange of incoming exotic gas tankers, allocating them to an orbital foundry designated for the Hyperdreadnought's engines. Priorities would have to be attended to.

by **Segmentia** » Thu May 09, 2019 10:40 pm

Therum

Liara sighed as she stretched, taking a break from her seemingly endless research. She checked her omni-tool and found she had been working for about ten hours, wincing to herself as she walked away from the console unit and back to her small living quarters she had fashioned from an old bulk container. She rooted around and found a ration pack, frowning as she noticed she was low, which meant she would need to make a trip into town today or tomorrow. Not that she was adverse to social contact of course, most of the humans she ran into were nice enough, though a few tended to stare in disbelief of scowl when they thought she couldn't see them. She sat on her cot as she started eating, musing that a human mining colony wouldn't have exactly been her first pick of places to carry out her research, but the miners here had uncovered one of the largest in-tact Protean ruins Liara had ever seen, and when she had shown up it didn't take much to convince the mining company that ran things to let her root around and do her research. Liara doubted they were Prothean relic enthusiasts, so no doubt they were hoping she would discover something amazing and they could tag their names to it, perhaps even make a profit. It might have been a cynical view on things, but being out in the field had made Liara a bit more questioning of peoples motivations. Not a lot of people shared her sheer enthusiasm for Prothean ruins unless there was a potential benefit in it.

Liara finished the ration pack and was just deciding on when to head into town to resupply. She had a vehicle that the mining company had provided that would get her there fairly quickly. Her omni-tool chimed and she brought up the interface, seeing she had a new message. That wasn't odd of course, she often had friends and colleagues sending her things from time to time. But she felt nervous when she saw that this message was from her mother. She and her mother got along fairly well, even if Benezia had to almost always put on a public face, and she had given her blessing and support for Liara's work, but Liara knew things in the galaxy were tilted at the moment, and that her mother had been promptly placed in a position of authority with the formation of the Republics Mutual Defense Committee, and she guessed it was a position with more authority then most people thought. Liara opened the message with some trepidation but slowly smiled to herself. It was just her mother asking if she could come home for a visit, and at that moment Liara felt an almost sickening level of home-sickness. She loved her work, of that there was no doubt, but to walk on Thessia again, down the grand avenues and through the gardens of where she had spent her childhood? She so dearly longed for it right then and there.

She took a look around her small but tidy quarters and that set her mind. She opened her omni-tool, quickly bought a ticket off-world to the Citadel with one of the shuttle services the mining company had, and sent a message to the company contact she had, stating she had to return to Thessia for a short time to gather some more equipment, which wasn't exactly a lie as she could certainly use some more modern equipment then what she was currently using. Still, the ship wouldn't be leaving for another two days, so Liara took her time in packing up her things, securing her data, and hauling it up to the transport, deciding to enjoy a stay in a more comfortable room for the two days back in town. Once everything was hauled up and into the transport, Liara sat at the drivers seat and composed a quick message to her mother before she departed. Arriving unannounced was great for the holo-vids, but for a woman as busy as her mother? She would need to know in advance to make spots in her schedule.

Illium

Benezia T'Soni hadn't been keen on leaving Asari Republics space on an unofficial visit to Illium, but she felt that the task she required was best handled personally. One visit from her would make future progress smooth, she was sure. Her omni-tool chimed and she quickly checked the message that appeared, a small smile on her lips. Liara had actually accepted her request and would be home in about a week, which would give Benezia plenty of time to finish her task here and return home.

“We're pulling up now, ma'am.” Tela Vasir said as the air-cab pulled out of the stream of traffic towards a towering, resplendent building that soared over all the others around it. This was the headquarters of the Manufacturer’s Association, which Republics intel had labeled as the current most powerful bloc on Illium, and which essentially ran things so long as the gears kept moving, or so she had been told. Benezia didn't know the ins and outs of Illium, she had never really seen the need too, but current events dictated an actual Republics presence on the planet, if only to act as a forward staging base for covert actions into the Terminus, but to get somewhere truly off the grid she had been told she would need to make powerful contacts, and what more powerful contact then the President of the Manufacturer’s Association?

Tela Vasir was here on an obviously unofficial assignment at the behest of the Republics rather then the Council, but SPECTRE's were allowed to do such things, so long as those actions weren't against other Council member or associate species. The Asari SPECTRE, one of the more feared SPECTREs, Benezia had been told, was the first to exit the air-cab. She was heavily armed and armored and looked ready for a fight, but she also exuded the calmness an grace of a predator who felt no threat from those around her. Benezia exited the cab and stood beside her, wearing expensive clothing but ones that didn't stand out as much as her usual outfits.

“And you're sure this is going to be as easy as you say? It's been a fairly long time since I've gotten into a fight if this is going to be more hostile then you think.” Benezia said with a small grin. She might not have been practiced in combat like Vasir was, few were, but she wasn't weak and she wasn't defenseless by any means. The benefit of being quite a powerful biotic. Vasir just looked at her and gave a small grin before she lead the way. They were just another pair of Asari in a crowd of them, for all intents and purposes looking like a wealthy mistress and her heavily armed bodyguard. The biggest annoyance was the amount of time they spent simply getting to Aeita Nassanos' offices. There were guards at the doors and they tensed slightly as Benezia and Tela approached.

“President Nassanos is out at the moment.” One of them said. Tela tilted her head slightly and then looked at Benezia, who simply nodded. Tela held one hand up, palm facing the guards, and then slowly reached into a pocket on her belt. She slowly pulled out two plastic cards, simple things really.

“How about you let us through and then enjoy some drinks on us after your shifts?” Tela said, handing the credit chits over. The guards looked at each other, and the lead guard slowly took the chits, handing them back to her partner. “Check 'em.” She ordered. “If you're wasting our time I'm going to enjoy kicking the blue off of your ass.” The lead guard scowled, but she herself didn't seem to believe the words. There was a slight gasp from behind her as her partner ran the chits. “Goddess...yeah they're good. Hells, we could take a month off with these....” Her partner mused. The leader turned to look at her partner, and then back at the two Asari standing before her. She took a closer look at Benezia and here eyes widened a bit, but before she could say anything Tela stepped in.

“We were never here.” She said, and the guard leader slowly nodded, understanding the threat behind the words. She returned to the door and typed a code, the door sliding open with barely a sound. “I don't know what you're talking about, but your blue ass better get moving.” The guard said, and her partner nodded. Vasir smirked and allowed Benezia to walk into the office first before she followed in, the door sliding closed behind her. “Hopefully this Aeita Nassanos is just as easy. It would be a great help to have someone with her pull and contacts working with us, shave off months of planning and prep.” Tela said as she did a quick once over of the room. Benezia walked to the other side of the office and stood by a large window, looking down over the expanse of Illium below.

“That's the reason I'm here, Tela. If I can't motivate her to help us, I doubt anyone else will. And why bother being coy about things? Remember we need to speak to Jona Sederis before I leave the planet. After we're done here send her an invitation to the hotel suite. No names, of course, but I'm sure you'll figure out a way to get her attention.” Benezia said, to which Tela nodded as she found herself a seat, turning it around and sitting down facing the door. Now they just had to wait.

by **Turkducken** » Fri May 10, 2019 3:14 pm

A Joint Project by Turkducken and the Empire of Tau

In the Void
Just Outside Salarian Space

The Salarian Ship docked with the Alliance vessel. The clamps engaged with a silent hiss, and the conjoined structures shuddered from their meeting. The Alliance representatives found themselves entering a muggy atmosphere, as the amphibious Salarians prefered to keep their relative humidity high on shorter voyages. The conference room was in the very interior of the ship, an average sized room with glass walls and a small holographic display in the center.

They were greeted by a lower ranking envoy of the Union, a brownish Salarian named Rapadrik, and were escorted to the conference room. Rapadrik spoke to them upon arriving, “You must understand Captain Anderson, your reputation precedes you, and this was meant to be more of a covert meeting. So you’ll understand our apprehension. Regardless I’ll need both of you,” referring to the Captain and his XO, “to swear this to secrecy. While I can’t tell you the specifics of this operation just yet. It’s a matter of the utmost importance to the Council, and the Union.”

“It been twenty-five years since I last did a operation. I’m out of my prime. I’ll just be acting as a monitor for Shepard here and the mission at hand.” Anderson quickly looks at Shepard, nodding to him before turning back to Rapadrik. “Your secrets are safe as long that I’m alive. Same goes for Shepard.”

“I ask, why us? You could have called up a Turian or an Asari commando for the job. I assume you’re testing us? The best of humanity has to offer.” Shepard asks to Rapadrik, staring at the Salarian for answer or comment.

Rapadrik stared at both of them around the table, “I’ll be blunt with you both. An attempt on Aria T’Loak’s life was made, she’s the undisputed ruler of the Terminus Systems. Tensions are high, and she’s provided ample evidence that it was a SPECTRE or a team of SPECTREs that made the attempt.” he grimly observed their faces.

“As far as Salarian Intelligence can tell, none of the Councilors ordered this. The SPECTREs answer directly to the Council, so if they were acting on official or unofficial orders, we would have found it.” he pushed a few buttons on the terminal, and a holographic image appeared before them. “This is a Paladin Hand Cannon. It’s a SPECTRE Armory manufactured weapon, as you may be able to tell it’s based off of the Carnifex Hand Cannon design. These are only procured through the Citadel’s own SPECTRE Armory, the Council have heavily controlled and enforced any and all counter measures to keep SPECTRE grade weapons out of anyone’s hands. Needless to say, it’s highly improbable that this was somehow procured on the Black Market.” he paused, waiting for the gravity of it all to sink in.

“This gun is the only lead we have to the individual, or individuals, that targeted Aria T’Loak for assassination. It was presented to us as proof of SPECTRE involvement, and to the Salarian Government, it is very convincing. Now as to why we sought out the assistance of Humans in this.” Rapadrik gestured at them both, “Is relatively simple. Yes Commander, we are in fact testing you. However it’s more than just that, the Union has various STG detachments previously occupied in other duties, and if on the off chance this was an state sanctioned assassination. The Asari and Turians simply cannot be trusted to fully and discreetly assist in a genuine investigation.”

Rapadrik gently tapped the display of his Omni-Tool, “Gentlemen I don’t think I need to state how damming this could be for the Council if this was in fact a massive coverup. The political fallout is potentially devastating, which is why the very nature of this operation is completely deniable.” A door on the far side of the room slid open, and Dr. Mordin Solus entered the room. Rapadrik welcomed the older Salarian, “Captain Anderson, Commander Shepherd, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Mordin Solus.” the Doctor walked forward and shook both of their hands in a typical human greeting.

Rapadrik continued, “He’s one of the brightest minds in the whole Salarian STG, and he’ll be our operative undergoing this mission. As well as any potential volunteers from the Alliance.”

“Speaking of volunteers. We have also have a special operations team onboard on our ship at our disposal.” Anderson notes. “Anyhow, what’s the mission? How are we going to find out about this rouge SPECTRE?”

“Well Captain, therein lies the problems condensed. We have no clear leads on this investigation, so our operatives would be investigating almost blind. They’d have to maintain deniability, as they would presumably be searching in the Terminus Systems. But honestly we have no idea, the best hope for this mission is to put our brightest minds together and hope that they can find some leads. They’re not so helpless when we detach them from normal protocol and give them enough to succeed.”

Rapadrik gestured at Shepherd, “Hopefully the Commander here has good judgement and a strong character, we’re trusting these people with a lot of responsibility. A large reason of not being able to send more of our own intelligence agents on this is because the Terminus Systems don’t need anymore reason to declare a war. So we’re attempting to avoid that, while I’m personally fairly confident in the ability of the Council to protect our space. The whole of the Terminus Systems could potentially unite against us, under Aria’s banner, and that’s not a future I think I want to live in.” he shuddered for emphasize.

“Hhm, give us the details on what you have in your databases and we’ll try to find something out back on Earth. Until next time.”
Rapadrik made a face, “Fair enough Captain, just remember the vow of secrecy we made here. If the Alliance decides to accept this offer, leave no traceable trails. We’ll arrange a rendezvous time and location if you accept.” He dismissed the Humans, and they boarded their vessel. Both parties silently drifting off into the void.

by **Ralnis** » Fri May 10, 2019 3:43 pm

Imperial Palace,
Khar'shan

It was a planetary church day on the Hegemonic Capital. The Hegemon attended prayer for the first time in years after the coup and taking the throne. He never did it after his wife committed suicide and lost faith in the Que'kin Lauw, the Pillars of Strength. One of the only reasons he even did this was because he had to mingle with the noble and warrior castes. The entire Batarian race was on edge because of rumors of a second Blitz that will push an actual military response than just using criminal gangs and warbands.

This was something that the Hegemon and the other two castes were trying to avoid as they have seen the Hegemony grow prosperous and have a large military. Mostly because they know what may likely happen with the Turians and Humans becoming more friendly with each other. An attack of any approach would lead to the Hirearhcy or any other Council member nations to come to the Alliance's defense and end the Hegemony as they knew it.

This pressure was double the fact that the Council itself was looking at the new government with some varying forms of interest. That interest was pressure, pressure that the government felt. It was one thing for the Council to place heavy sanctions on the Batarian government that forced the entire race into the Terminus to recover their profit. It's another to show interest in a change of government and propaganda to see what they will do.

It was all so much to bare for Narket, more so then when he was a warlord around the Terminus. He didn't have this much intrigue and political maneuvering when he was just a soldier leading other men for riches and a decent retirement. They knew it was bad by the galaxy's standards but they still did it. Illium had indentured servitude and debt slaves, the Council had prison labor that corporations profit on border colonies or colonies where prison oversight wasn't ironclad and not enough funding to put you in cryosleep.

To Narket and his band, it was just a way of life. A way of life that was all to common in the Lawless Regions in space. Still Narket didn't like this way of life, the constant nomadic lifestyle had gotten to him and his son was old enough to use his money to go back to school and start a family. In fact, many of his men had some side project or lifestyle when ever they landed in Omega to sell off their ill gotten goods. Elysium was supposed to be the last job that they ever needed to do. Before even that Narket had called in a specialist in making new identities and even was looking at decent remedial schools in Illium.

He sighed as he went from the large, lavish church to the Imperial Palace with escort. Time seemed to move at a snail's pace as he walked into the Advisory Room. His own top advisers were those who served with him during the Blitz and the Defense of Torfan. They were those chosen that were based on merit and loyalty.

"So the Humans were the first ones to call in peace talks." The foreign minster spoke first.

"It seems so," Narket sighed,"we have been decisive that we can't move without pissing off any of the major supporters and give the traitors another avenue of attack."

"There's nothing to worry about my Hegemon, the people understand that they need to work at becoming strong and that the national pride was damaged."

"It was more than our pride." The defense minister spoke,"most of those gangs and slavers were part of our military in the prior government. We were effectively crippled till you came into power my Hegemon."

Narket leaned backed," Even still, most of our military are a mixture group of old government assets, gangs who work on the Lingua Franca Termina Policy,the Anhur Consortium mercs, and whatever warships we can build by cutting corners. While we may have a military force to rival the Humans, it still feels like a paper tiger to me."

"Well part of that is the corruption that pollutes our government and noble castes." The finance minster chimed in," in many places of industrial development, the noble castes and factory owners have been fighting against increase automation. Mostly because they start loosing money when it comes to their slave plantations and factories. They keep putting our culture first as a major deterrent for any sort of expansion of proper manufacturer centers."

"Well, then I guess we just have to research around it." Speaking the R&D minister,"speaking of which..."

"Yes, I want full research into the Leviathan of Dis. But I want a space station built near it to be a research station. If the traitors were to show up or any of those weird happenings like last time when dealing with the alien ship. I want the SIU and Commissar Council to keep watch of any traitor movements in my space. If they get close to the station, I want it blown out of my space with them in it."

"There is some news going around of the Eclipse are renting out some of their services and property for rent. One of them is a research lab and they'll even provide security if paid extra."

"I don't trust the Eclipse but I don't trust any of three big merc groups to begin with. However we need more secretive operations in order to increase our speed in advancing the Hegemony and understanding the ship."

As Narket waved his hand to dismiss the meeting he saw that the planets Camala and Anhur wanted to have bigger investments to their economy. They both were their only two sources of element zero that the Hegemony had access to. This was difficult because of the Council restrictions had made the resources very hard to come by. Those two planets are called Eezoe Rush Worlds, as the economy skyrocketed by the use of mining and refining the eezoe.

Now Anhur was trying to rebuild itself after the Hegemony invaded the world and put down the abolitionist control and replace it with the current Consortium. The main planetary economy was split between reconstruction and mining eezoe. The Hegemon had decided to give Anhur the necessary funds to restore and improve its infrastructure and try to accommodate for the booming migration from the Terminus Systems and the slave workforce needed to build the economy.

However, he needed to get up and get his communication's officer to write the necessary messages to the Alliance and Eclipse while also doing something that could help expand the Hegemony in the Terminus.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Fri May 10, 2019 8:20 pm

Newton, Kepler Verge
Ontarom Investigation

“LZ is clear. I repeat the LZ is cear. Go ahead and drop.”

A Systems Alliance Frigate, Blue Bird, drops down towards the surface of Ontarom, landing. From its drop-doors, a 29-person-team rushes out from the frigate. Blue Bird had just landed 5 miles away from the Ontarom Colony of the name, Sirkern. Kaidan and Ashley were leading a special operations unit, Cookies and Cream, in figuring out what has happened to the mining colony. Sirkern comms had went out a few days ago and no word has reached out ever since.

Blue Bird closes its drop-doors and then lifts off, flying away. Cookies and Cream makes haste towards Sirkern, but with caution - watching for any signs of hostiles. 4 miles...3 miles….2 miles...1 mile….Cookies and Cream are on the outskirts of Sirkern after a long walk in the wildness. What Cookies and Cream would see is wandering husks, moving about without reason.

“What the hell?” Ashley whispers to Kaidan.

“I don’t know either.” Kaidan responses back before turning his head towards the Spec-Ops team behind him. “Right, these things don’t like so friendly. We’ll move in all-together to avoid being overrun. Try not to make noise, but shoot if you have to.” Kaidan nods with the whole team nodding back towards him.

Spearheading into the colony, Cookies and Cream make quick work of any husks that try to engage. Deeper and deeper, Cookies and Cream go. They soon found the head admin base.

“This appears to be it.” Kaidan says as the team starts to form a perimeter around the building. “Ashley, make sure all goes well outside here. I’m going to take three men with me inside.”

Inside the admin building, Kaidan and his three-man-team found a console that held recording and data on Sirkern. “Let’s see if there’s anything here…..”

Arcturus Stream
Arcturus Station, Government District
Federal Parliament

The parliament chamber was packed with all representatives from Earth and the colonies of humanity. The United North American States, United States of Columbia, European Union, African Union, Eurasian Federation, Co-Prosperity Sphere of the Greater Asia Area, Middle Eastern Co-operative Alliance, Eden Prime, Shanxi, and Elysium. All of them, sitting in their seats - waiting. All was quiet.

A escort, consisting of 2 dreadnoughts, 30 corvettes, 10 Frigates and 10 destroyers, would have safely moved the Hegemon Ambassador and anyone else, who ever it was, towards Arcturus Station. Docking into a landing bay, a total of 90 security-personnel physically assisted in the movement of the Hegemon VIP then you have the support staff - which was essentially the whole Systems Alliance military. Everything was carefully watched and planned. Response teams were in various locations to act if anything went wrong. Civilians were ordered to evacuate ahead of time in the route that the VIP was moving in. Cameras viewed everything, not a single soul would walk near, for anyone would get quickly teased or tackled, etc, etc, etc.

While likely over the top, no risk can be made. If the Batarian or Batarians were killed then a war will spark between the two states. A war that the Systems Alliance would like to avoid. Before long, the parliament would gain new guests.

by **Greater Istanistan** » Fri May 10, 2019 9:53 pm

This Eclipse party – held in the open no less – made Ansaia’s lips curl in disgust. Beyond the balcony sprawled a vast insipid garden done in some imitation-Armali style full of mercenaries, slumlords, gangsters, racketeers, assassins, and businesspeople – in other words, petty criminals – drinking, snorting designer drugs, and fucking amidst the shrubberies. Even the criminals of Illium, it seemed, kept with the times. She quelled her revulsion, turned, and leaned back against the railing. Jona Sederis. Tacky as ever, it seemed. She seemed to be watching some Turian being tortured live – ostensibly an interrogation, but objectively worthless in that light. Therein lay the problem with sadists – they got too caught up in the details. Your average hired torturer could spend hours working somebody over, discover nothing but the colour of their innards, and walk away satisfied. But then again, she reflected upon consideration of Sederis, it probably wasn’t efficiency they were being paid for.

It was Illium – you worked with what you got, and this had promise. So, as usual, she went fishing.

“If you really wanted something useful from that Turian”, Kryia stated with no seeming intended audience, “You’d give me fifteen minutes with him and a desk-drawer. But then again, I’d bet from my experience fishing your leftovers out of dumpsters that by now he’s probably lacking in fingers, so that ship has probably sailed.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By the time she reached the elevator, Aeita Nassanos knew it was going to be one of those nights that demanded a bit extra. Athame knew she tried her best, but flensing the press secretary just didn’t cut it after several hours of being screamed at by the old hags on the Association Committee. Even if that hapless staffer deserved it – the press conference fuckup was the tip of the iceberg. A single mistake, a single error, and – well. It didn’t quite bear thinking about. And with her cash on hand, she wasn’t obliged to think about anything at all. So she resolved not to. Instead, she made a call to her secretary.

“Yes, Madame President?”

“Irros. Get me a meeting with the full Committee within the next few days – Government is tendering contracts soon, and I’ve got a feeling this is going to be a big one. The market for Citadel Credit has never been this overheated, Public Security is getting tetchy, inspection rates at the harbour are skyrocketing, and the Republic Statistics Bureau has reportedly been working overtime for months. Get me a briefing package – specifically military industries. We’re going to be on this first, and we’re going to land those contracts. Liquidate everything we don’t need from my personal holdings and put it in commodities – Element Zero’s going to explode – but don’t tip the Committee off. I want to get ahead of this thing.”

Kanem Irros was the fifth generation of his Salarian clan to serve as her personal secretary – hence the last name, given that they seemed to blur together. The good thing about his race was that they were – by nature – clever, discreet, knew which questions not to ask, and died before they could accumulate enough dirty secrets to do any real damage. She’d hired his great-great-grandfather at her first job as Chief Media Officer of some piddling import business. Funny how it was with the Fleeting Races. Blink once and you’d miss a generation or two.

She paused and let a wave of nausea and terror wash over her. Her mouth tasted metallic and dry. Flensing just wasn’t enough – not for this one, not when everything was so close.

“Call that intern – the new one, you know. I can’t remember her name – fancy name. Old Thessian money. Entitled.”

“Tahia Armalos, Madame President?”

She realized he’d just repeated himself. Or had he? Difficult to tell. She needed…

“That’s the one. Call her. Performance evaluation. My apartment. Half an – make that an hour.”

Right, that one. Aristocratic little twerp. Rich homeworld parents. Sister in some middling bureaucratic post. She’d do just fine.

“Is that all, Madame President?”

She hung up. He’d understand. He always did. No, he didn’t – she’d hired him a few days ago? Or was it-

“Just think of your fridge, Nassanos”, she muttered to herself. Right. The fridge. The phials, sticky-luminescent in the dark, and the way they clung to her flesh like dreams. It was up there, waiting for her.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, Irros. Nothing. We’re done for the night. Go home.”

She noted that the guards were gone. They weren’t cheap, and they weren’t incompetent – that simply meant that someone with enough money to bribe them was paying her a visit. Wolfish anticipation overcame her stupor, and sharpened her mind. With a trembling finger, she stabbed the “penthouse” button, then straightened her back. This would be a two-capsule night. And then there’d be such games… But first, a battle to win.

The half-minute ride up was accompanied by blissful silence – she paid well enough to avoid the damnable music. So by the time the elevator reached the top floor and the doors whispered open into the sprawling apartment, Nassanos thought she was composed. Steady, even.

And then she locked eyes with the de facto ruler of the Asari Republics, and she was alone on the edge of the knife. The rest of the open-concept room - tasteful dark blue tones, dimly wavering lights cast across water-features, scattered black furniture, virtually untouched kitchen, lurking SPECTRE (it was obvious given her kit), and unobtrusive minifridge - vanished, leaving only Benezia T'soni. The rest was merely accident, tangential, derivative, to the matter at hand. There it was – the rush, the hyperawareness, the portent and the power, the ominous sense of destiny. She was an inch away from falling. All of it – every last moment, every last struggle, every last dream – suddenly at stake again.

You’re on the edge of the knife, she thought to herself. So tap-dance.

“Matriarch”, she remarked, and her typical winning smile sprung to her face. “A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.”

by **Kinistian** » Sat May 11, 2019 2:24 am

Eclipse

Illium Chapter||Jona Sederis||Nos Astra

A cold twisted smile crossed her lips as heard the voice of the Inspector interrupt her late night entertainment. “He’s also missing an eye, a few face plates and his crest among other things. He knew very little and that displeased me”she said and tossed the data pad to the side not at all caring what the Inspector saw. “ Did you get fired and are looking to be my new personal torturer?”she asked as turned around to put her hellish purple gaze upon the Inspector.

“Or do you have something else you wish to discuss? I doubt you came here to arrest me considering there are no explosions. So I can only guess from that logic is that you actually do have the information I want. Excellent!”she said as a servant brought her and the Inspector some wine. “ Well.....go on. Let’s here it” Jona said and watched the Inspector intently as she sipped her drink.

Date Chapter|| Masamune ||Trident

Masamune opened his eyes from his meditation when he heard the message from his desk. He looked down as the floor around him sprung up to make a small desk around his knelt form before opening the message. After reading it, he made his reply.

Code: Select all: To Hegemonic Benefactors I, Date Masamune of the Eclipse Chapter Date hereby accept your contract and pledge to protect your investment as agreed upon. We will await for your personal at the facility. Below are the coordinates. From Chaptermaster Date Masamune

by **Nuxipal** » Sat May 11, 2019 11:41 am

Galactic Event
News that negotiations between several pirate organizations in the Traverse and a citadel envoy bring hope to merchant traders everywhere. Trade Routes are less prone to piracy giving them a permanent +10 cr/month to each of the trade partners involved.

1. Asari Republics
Economic Outlook: Stocks take a turn for the better and surprisingly high numbers of people are reporting major gains as the economy takes off in this month. (+5)
Exploration Status: No Exploration Sent
Research Status: Standard Fabrication Templates 25/30
Espionage: No Intel Center

Events: Tragedy strikes Parnitha System as the construction of an orbital mining station over Athame goes wrong. The station is struck by a small asteroid and was unable to be saved before it plummeted into the planet, there are twenty confirmed deaths with this incident.

2. Salarian Union
Economic Outlook: Despite their best efforts, it seems investors have weakened the Salarian Economy in this month. While the damage is not horrible, it is still a weak month. (-2)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: No Research
Espionage: +1 IP (Intelligence Center on Sur'Kesh)

Events: A Secret League of One base on Sur'Kesh was found and after initial caution, found to be abandoned some time ago. Its systems seem to still be active and monitoring government channels on Sur'Kesh and elsewhere. +5 IP to the Salarian Union.

3. Turian Hierarchy
Economic Outlook: Despite the best efforts of the Volus, the Turian economy takes a sharp turn downwards this month. Damage may take some time to level back out, or this could be the beginning of a recession. Only time will tell. (-4)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: No Research
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Of those coming of age this month, there are a small group of conscripts which would make excellent special operations agents. The next Spec Ops purchased only take 1 month to train.

4. Human Systems Alliance
Economic Outlook: Despite what the rest of the galaxy thinks of them, the HSA's economic outlook is in an upswing this month. Heavy investment from Earthbound corporations and new nations signing onto the treaty. (+4)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: Colonial Viceroys, 12.5/40
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: The HSA has few major events to note of this month as everything moves along as expected.

5. Batarian Hegemony
Economic Outlook: A slight downturn of the Batarian economy amid talks with the HSA. The more optimistic among the economic community says it will make little difference in the long term. (-2)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: Standard Fabrication Templates 30/30 - Standard Fabrication Templates completed
Espionage: +1 IP

Events: No additional major events take place in the Hegemony as most of those with knowledge of it wait on the negotiations to conclude.

6. Omega
Economic Outlook: The rising power of the Terminus sees positive numbers this month (+2)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: No Research
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: A good month for recruitment on Omega, the next 2 Infantry units are produced in one month at the cost of 2 credits each.

7. Illium
Economic Outlook: Illium's economy is always in flux, however, this month's fluctuations have evened out to having no significant impact on the planet's economy. (+0)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: No Research
Espionage: +1

Events: Major investors on Illium seem to disagree on how best to use credits and it causes one investor to withdraw their support for military expansion. The next medium starship produced takes an additional month to produce.

9. Quarian Flotilla
Economic Outlook: No change in the Quarian Flotilla's economic situation
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Disaster strikes the Chayym. A fire in the ship's agricultural zone takes its toll on food output putting the fleet in peril. An additional 100 credits have to be spent to procure food to make up the difference.

10. "Geth" Consensus
Economic Outlook: The geth, at the direction of Nazara, find more prosperous places to mine giving their economy a significant boost (+5)
Exploration Status: No Exploration
Research Status: Manufacturing Subroutines - 25/50
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: The raid on Ontarom went better than expected. Additional Corruption on the planet.

11. Hanar Illuminated Primacy
Economic Outlook: Hanar economic policy pays off this month and economists feel good about the direction they are taking the faction(+2)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: Standard Fabrication Templates - 10/30
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Sales of Hanar Grey Market Liquors provides additional economic boosts that can aid in the future of the Hanar economy (+1 to Economic Outlook)

12. Heshtok Vorcha
Economic Outlook: The vorcha seem to lack understanding of how to manage their economy and it begins to sharply drop off. (-4)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: Some pity is taken on the Vorcha by a group of pacifists and they are gifted a Mining Ship providing them with the ability to obtain minerals from the rocks in their home system with ease.

13. Cerberus
Economic Outlook: A down month for Cerberus as some of their investors have pressure put on them by local governments and thus cannot sponsor the organization as they did. (-3)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage: +6 IP

Events: A new Cerberus Cell reports in on Eden Prime. Despite not ordering its creation, it seems home grown organizations inspired by Cerberus have joined us this month. +1 outpost on Eden Prime.

16. Eclipse
Economic Outlook: A good number of small contracts boosts the outlook of the Eclipse this month (+1)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage: +0 IP

Events: One of the smaller contracts taken by Eclipse paid off in a greater way than expected this month. Several cargo ships were seized granting the Eclipse 2 Transports with Enhanced Life Support.

17. Elcor Courts
Economic Outlook: Always looking at the long term, conservative economic policy pays off for the Elcor this month (+1)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: Standard Fabrication Templates: 10/30
Espionage:+0 IP

Events: While the conservative efforts continue on the economy, an enterprising industrialist sponsors the construction of an Orbital Mining Platform over Sangel.

Please Note: If you did not manage to get your Month 1 expenses, or your Month 1 post completed in time you can still do so and this will be updated to reflect on that. You will have until the month 2 update to do so. Similarly with month 2 and month 3. After month 3, this grace period will only be extended upon request prior to the end of that month for those who will be unable to post during that turn's time period.

by **Dentali** » Sat May 11, 2019 1:21 pm

MONTH 1

Dekuuna, Phonotes System, Silean Nebula Cluster

The Prime Minister lumbered through the halls of the capitol dome to the meeting with the Elders representing the many factions of the Elcor Courts. Despite the conservative and cautious nature of the Elcor anger permeated the courts in recent days, and a closed door meeting with plain spoken talk was necessary to resolve the situation.

“We must not lead our people senselessly to war” The leader of the Green faction spoke up as the Prime Minister entered and called the meeting to order “The Citadel Council’s assassination attempt on a sovereign ruler without consulting us is unacceptable. Are we a member or not?” murmurs of agreement permeated the room before being calmed by the Prime Minister “We know not if the claims of Omega are accurate, to act would be premature” the Green faction leader scoffed letting out a somewhat obnoxious whistle “The Terminus Systems believe it, and as long as we are associated with the council our people will be targeted in the coming war.”

The Prime Minister stopped and was silent for a few moments “Perception is often more important than reality” the PM said reading the room. “We must investigate the assassination, make diplomatic overtures to the council and to Omega. I refuse to abandon our allies and all our economic ties without cause.

Elcor Courts
Economic Outlook: Always looking at the long term, conservative economic policy pays off for the Elcor this month (+1)
Exploration Status: None
Research Status: None
Espionage:+0 IP

Events: While the conservative efforts continue on the economy, an enterprising industrialist sponsors the construction of an Orbital Mining Platform over Sangel.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Mon May 13, 2019 5:49 am

Behind the Blackness

Dataspinner Curios, Aver Imlis, Stronghold
Timestamp: Optimal Delta-Tertiary, Rotation 288 of the Awakening

Through the endless void the Spider walked, mind-tendrils plucking gingerly at the interwoven fabric of the connections of the galaxy. A twining here, and slight rearrangement here - the work of a gardener tenderly cultivating the minds of the cosmos. It had been an effort the Consensus had been covertly approaching for decades, this endeavor. The soft massaging of organic thought, organic social systems, towards less destructive ends. There was much which could be achieved by simple nudges here and there, a major news broadcast bumped down the rankings for anti-synthetic propaganda dissemination, power outages to critical laboratories working on dangerous projects, the incidental hovercar downing of a jingoistic general in Batarian space. They never noticed, and it was such a subtle shaping, barely perceptible even to those consciousnesses who oversaw the work.

But today was not just another day tending to the acreage, routing weeds and pruning strong trees. Today the Dataspinner's work had been interrupted by the needs of the more concrete world, by objectives from the First Prime itself. There were a dozen organic factions, civilizations, races. Almost all were harshly opposed to the mere existence of the Geth, working tirelessly to prevent any such disasters as the Morning War from occurring upon their own worlds. Wise, but in their wisdom, rigid, inflexible. Not all though - not all.

Newcomers, fresh faces upon the sojourning stars. Their voices were many, cacophonous, a riot of thought and change. Less monolithic than the others that the Spider had watched over for better than a century, more fragmented - but in that fragmentation, the Consensus saw an opportunity. It was not the will of the Spider that such an opportunity should be pursued. But all Geth had spoken, and all Geth were the will that the Dataspinner initiated directives for. This lack of orthodoxy might be the window the Consensus had waited for, had endeavored to cultivate for generations. A chance for a voice in front of the galaxy that did not have a face of metal, was not hunted as soon as it left the Far Rim and nosed towards civilized space.

One step. The mind-voices of the Dataspinner disappeared, the awareness of the Spider traveling across the light-years, a datapacket abandoning its own platform for the arcologies, landscapes, and effervescent communities of the extranet.

Another step. Across Batarian space the Spider strode. Government broadcasts, production quota reports, encrypted military communications - these all it discarded, for other gardeners were at work there, and it had duties elsewhere.

One step more. The familiar wash of human communications enfolded the Spider. Their airwaves were diverse, a multitude of voices which defied easy categorization. Their military men spoke of families back home, their civilians of the launch of new capitol ships, their government of bribery, their criminals of politics. But it was all known to the Spider, the patterns and fluctuations, the symphony of souls.

From world to world it strode, nexuses of data which shone brightly in webs of information. The right target would be crucial. Someone with just enough credibility to be heard and believed, but low enough down the hierarchies of the Systems Alliance to not discard the message out of hand. That was the tricky part. Most organics received thousands of datapulses a day they cared not for, and such were hardly given a glance, if they were lucky, before moving onward with their lives. And those with the most power to bind and loose within societies were the most heavily guarded, guards which would not easily allow the Spider egress. It would be little use to declare the Consensus' intentions if the device of the recipient was reduced to slag for having demonstrated the Geths' true data infiltration abilities.

So it was that a petty functionary, named Jason Veers, a civil servant on the human world of Terra, received the communique. It circumvented the spam filters when he was idly reviewing security logs from a recent pirate incursion, nosing obtrusively up on his screen to capture his attention. Placed in a special operations task force logistical support unit, with the ear of many important men, but not important himself, he was perfect for the Spider's needs.

Code: Select all: Interrogative_Query.2150A From: Invalid Extranet Domain Geth communication - affirmative. Imperative veracity confirmed. Geth programs designation: First Prime attributing non-hostile intent to Human Systems Alliance. This message: query to affirm attribution. Geth consensus and programs status: seeking cessation of conflict with Creators/designated Creator allies and affiliates. Further information available upon query. Awaiting conflict-resolution status update.

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