Chapter 36. Alpha, Beta and Omega

The Termina systems have always been an extremely troubled region of the galaxy. Restless and extremely rebellious. Various gangs, pirates, mercenaries, slave traders, smugglers, drug dealers and other scum considered the Terminal systems their fiefdom and gladly robbed and killed both its inhabitants and each other, fighting for influence, profitable orders, sales markets, or just like that. And all these scoundrels, every time a threat from the races of the Citadel Space loomed over them, showing incredible unanimity, united in front of a superior enemy. They could easily be swept away if the turians, asari and salarians set a similar goal and worked together. But they did not do this; instead, the Citadel Council, not wanting to waste finances, resources and the lives of soldiers, left this abscess nearby as a buffer zone where not entirely legal operations could be carried out. And of course, you can transfer the blame for the batarian raids on the colonies for slaves to the slave traders of Termina. If Terminus is gone, then the scapegoat will disappear, which means everyone will understand who is organizing the raids for slaves. To such an act of aggression on the part of the Batarian Hegemony, the races of the Citadel space will be forced to respond accordingly, which threatens war. But the bathars will not stop capturing slaves; their entire economic model is based on slaves.

So it turns out that if the Citadel Space starts a war with the Terminal systems, then immediately after them a second war with the Batarian Hegemony will definitely begin. The batars are not fools either, they realize this and if a mess breaks out, they will stand up for the Terminal systems, which will complicate the victory of the Citadel races. And even if they are crushed in the end, the price will be high, and the war will be extremely dirty. The batarians are also terrorists who, without blinking an eye, will turn the inhabited world into a glass-enclosed parking lot.

So it turns out that it's more convenient for everyone to pretend that everything is fine and tolerate this pair of ulcers nearby, rather than burn them out with a hot iron.

This is what I'm getting at. The Terminal systems may be a fairly scattered formation on the face of the galaxy, but they are inhabited by extremely independent and freedom-loving scumbags. And in order to dictate your terms to them, you need to be an extremely extraordinary person, possessing not only strength, power and resources, but also knowing where all this needs to be applied in order to get the result you need. Who should you come to an agreement with, who should you smile on, and who should you press to your fingernail, sparing all available resources? Three hundred years ago...or two hundred years ago? In general, a little more than two hundred years ago such a person was a krogan. True, now everyone calls him Patriarch and no one remembers his name. And if he remembers, he is afraid to say it out loud, fearing the one who took his place, overthrowing the Patriarch from the pedestal.

In general, although the Terminal systems are nominally independent and do not have a ruler, they do have a ruler, albeit with reservations. And like any ruler, he...or rather she has a palace. Or rather, a space station, the view of which opened up to us after a short flight. An ancient space station built by the Protheans in a huge asteroid for the extraction of element zero. True, the Protheans themselves, due to the dense crust, were not able to begin developing resources, but over the past millennia the station has constantly collided with other asteroids that split its crust, which made mining in Omega possible. Because of this, corporations were drawn to Omega, and criminals followed them.

Over time, the asteroid became almost hollow, all the resources were extracted from it, and residential, commercial and industrial buildings were built in the resulting voids, beginning the formation of a new unofficial "center" of the galaxy like the Citadel. When there was not enough space inside, the buildings began to stretch in height, absolutely spontaneously, haphazardly and without any kind of layout. This is how Omega appeared - the heart of Terminal systems and an alternative to the Citadel on the galactic arena. One might say the personification of chaos as opposed to the order of the Citadel.

Omega is located in the asteroid belt encircling the star Sarabarik; in the same star system there is a secondary relay leading to the rest of the habitable galaxy and a primary relay leading to the core of the galaxy. True, moving there is a disastrous business, no matter how many adventurers jumped through the Omega-4 relay all the time, no one ever returned. And it's impossible to live in the center of the galaxy, there are only asteroids and constantly exploding black holes. However, for some reason the Reapers created this relay? We'll have to dig into the databases.

On Omega we were immediately provided with docks for landing; apparently Glasis contacted the control room and took advantage of his official position since we were even given a free corridor.

Well, I already left Victoria in my F-3, but in urban conditions maneuverability is preferable to overwhelming firepower. I left my "WF-2" along with the activated 'Mechs inside the frigate for protection. It's better to play it safe in the heart of crime in Termina than to regret later when something was stolen from you, and that's the best case scenario. In an emergency, I can take direct control of my exosuit through the built-in transmitter. The controls will of course be worse than directly, but still convenient.

At the exit, a turian was already waiting for me, leaning against the aircar and happily sipping a cigar. When I appeared, Glasis only nodded his head towards the opened door and, taking another puff, with visible reluctance, threw the half-smoked cigar into the Abyss of space, separated from us by the film of the kinetic shield that holds oxygen inside the station.

"Come on, Aria is waiting for you," the xenos pointed to the aircar as soon as I approached, and when he climbed in, he climbed in after him, slapping the pilot's seat. —Heat, let's touch it.—.

"Batarian," he said at the sight of our pilot, but he only squinted his eyes for a moment and returned to controlling the transport.

- Exactly, batarian. I saw your work, you crushed so many four-eyed people. To tell the truth, they've gotten really crazy lately. Did you hear the Heat? Don't be a greyhound, otherwise our guest will stuff you with plasma too," the turian cheerfully called out to the still indifferent pilot. -Cool reservation. Can you tell me where I can get one?—.

Either my guide was trying to get more information out of me, or he was just so sociable, but Glasis did not shut up during the entire trip, which is why the crazy idea of ​​​​testing the strength of armor produced by FreeMan Armory appeared every now and then along the way. So I greeted the end of the trip in a crowded square (luckily people managed to run away in time) next to the largest club, "Afterlife," as a long-awaited deliverance. As soon as we left the transport, the aircar rose into the air and rushed to the side... I don't know which direction, but it rushed quite quickly. Apparently the turian managed to get it too.

We were allowed into the club itself without any problems; as soon as the guards saw my guide, they made way for us and opened the doors. Apparently this chatty xenos really is a big shot.

However, I received my share of attention; my obviously high-tech and extremely expensive armor was seen off with strong interest by almost every sufficiently sober alien. This was especially true for turians, krogans and batarians, whose races were famous for their warlike spirit and, as a result, their love for powerful weapons and reliable equipment. Well, I glanced sideways at the half-naked asari dancers, which was invisible behind the mask.

However, I was in vain to think so, having fixed my gaze on a particularly lush blue ass, whose owner was now squirming on a pole on the podium, I involuntarily turned my head and my maneuver did not go unnoticed.

"Notice who?" the turian gave me a familiar hug with one arm, continuing to lead me to the guarded elevator. "Now we'll go to Aria, and then we'll rest." Aria's girls are just first class, I once took off the Asari three at once, so the next day I crawled out only in the evening. Even after a clash with a Blood Pack squad of ten krogans and a couple dozen vorkas, I was not so exhausted. But what are they doing...—.

After a nod from Glasis, we were allowed into the elevator without any problems, but further on to the box of the owner of the club, located under the very ceiling of the four-level club, we were not allowed in without being checked. Or rather, they didn't let me in and one of the batarians began scanning for weapons.

—Too many batarians.—.

My statement remained unanswered, only the inspector growled grumpily, but somehow weakly, but when the scan results appeared, he first rubbed his eyes, both pairs, and somehow came up all looking at me with considerable apprehension. Well, yes, a kinetic shield comparable in power to military equipment, and not personal protection, particle emitters, repulsors, several missiles hidden under armor plates and especially an omni-emitter in the chest aimed directly at him and capable of cutting their squad into slices without any resistance . There are some kind of fairy tales about energy radiation, as if a miniature thermonuclear reactor was stuffed into this walking tank, although in fact there is a complex system of converters, compensators and emitters, the center of which is a mass core made using Reaper technology. In general, Aria's guard squad became pretty nervous after the check.

"You... um... will have to leave your... bone.. um, armor..." the batard mumbled.

"No." I interrupted his bleating, hanging over the sweat-covered battery, whose hand reached out to the back holder where the rifle rested in a folded state.

"Hey buddy, let's not let this happen." The turian tried to defuse the situation, but was ignored.

True, the owner of this place did not allow the murder to take place. The dissatisfied face of the beautiful asari appeared above the still activated batara instrument.

"Nats, why isn't T'Soni with me yet?" Aria stared at the pale xenos, but quickly turned her gaze to me. -It's clear. Listen to Ivon, while you are being stubborn here, the asari you saved are stuck in the Terminal systems. You're not in any danger, I just want to talk. Be kind, don't be stubborn.—.

After her speech, the image of the asari disappeared, but the doors to her box opened in invitation. Well, okay, if something happens, I can fight back with biotics, and the suit, under my direct control, can become an independent and very formidable combat unit. So, unexpectedly for everyone, the front part of the armor including the mask, the torso and limbs spread to the sides, releasing me outside, and the exosuit itself, a moment later, having gathered itself back, moved back to the corner of the room in order to keep everyone in line of sight and transmitting the image from its sensors to me on the visor, which I I pulled it on myself, finding myself without armor.

As soon as I walked in, the doors slammed behind me, leaving me and Aria alone. Well, it was very cozy, the music wasn't as loud as outside, the soft purple tones were relaxing, and there was a bar tucked in the corner. Under the central sofa of the club's owner, a terminal was installed that projected holoscreens around Aria, allowing her to work without taking her blue ass off the soft sofa.

Speaking of Aria, not much is known about her, at least to me. It is known for sure that she is a matriarch and an extremely strong biotic, perhaps even not inferior to Samara at the peak of her powers. She is known to have some control over Termina's systems and complete control over Omega. It is quite possible that she collaborates or even works for the Asari Republic. Well, this is quite logical, with her connections, Aria T'Loak is definitely one of the most influential asari matriarchs.

Well, even looking at her now, I was torn by ambivalent feelings. On the one hand, I want to crush her with biotics, put her in a vulnerable position in order to erase that impudent grin and look "I am the queen, and you are all shit." On the other hand, Aria is a very beautiful woman, and I haven't been with Liara for a long time, so the sensual curves of the pirate queen suggest certain thoughts. It's even hard to say what you want more.

Noticing my wandering gaze, the asari only grinned even more, but did not focus on this and switched to one of the screens transmitting recordings from the cameras in front of the entrance to the box. Namely, the moment of opening and autonomous movement of the exosuit.

—Secret development of "FreeMan Armory"? Impressive." Aria nodded towards the nearby sofa, offering to sit down. -And the ship, Victoria. I heard she could not be found, while you calmly flew through the regions of the Asari Republics, calmly avoiding detection. Advanced technology.—.

"Let's get down to business, what do you want from me?" he interrupted her verbiage.

"Great, I'll speak frankly, I need your ship." The asari leaned slightly towards me with her body, revealing a slightly better view of the hollow of her chest. —We need to sneak in somewhere unnoticed and finish off one person.—.

"What about the rescued asari?" he switched to a topic that was more interesting to me, to which Aria just rolled her eyes and passed me the reports of the captains involved in transporting the abducted on the territory of the Republics.

—The victims are on their way home. There is no point in me quarreling with the Republics. There's no point in you helping me. However, the creature whose head I want is engaged in selling drugs in asari systems and smuggling products from FreeMan Armory and FreeMen Tech," the matriarch continued, clearly attracting my attention. —On Omega there is only one rule: "Don't fuck with Aria." Jena Stokk decided that she was the smartest and that for her the rules were not written. This bitch trades around me, doesn't pay me, and recently has been intercepting my people's contracts. And the worst thing is that she has a lot of informants and connections on Omega. As soon as I find out her location and send mercenaries after her, she becomes aware of it and she again disappears from the radar. Slippery stuff. But you, on your frigate, will be able to reach her unnoticed without letting her escape.—.

While Aria was talking, I was delving into the provided dossier on one of the Eclipse mercenaries. Stokk, it seems an asari with that last name works at FreeMan Armory. That's right, she handles logistics and is responsible for trade routes. Decided to help a relative? It will be necessary to write to Benezia so that she is checked and an internal investigation is carried out.

-I agree. The coordinates have come out and everything you have on Jena Stokk, I'll figure it out." He looked into the eyes of Aria, clearly pleased with the situation.

-Great. My best mercenaries will go with you.—.

"I can handle it just fine myself." He looked at the figure of Queen Omega, who was heading towards the bar, with a frown.

-I have no doubt, but the only rule of Omega. Do you remember? Don't fuck with Aria. My people will control everything.—.

—...Okay, but during the flight they obey me, if they climb into something forbidden or violate my orders on the ship...—.

"You can throw them into the airlock, I don't need idiots," answered Aria, who came close with two glasses with something alcoholic in them. —For cooperation?—.

As soon as we stood up sharply, we found ourselves almost close to each other, and the asari, instead of staggering back, only grinned ironically, handing me the glass and continuing to look at me as if I were looking at a funny little animal.

"You know, one day I will erase this arrogant expression from your face," he promised, taking a sip of the shimmering blue alcoholic drink, listening in response to the woman's beautiful, ringing laugh.

***

Why did I even agree to Aria's task? Well, no matter what I say, it's quite stupid to quarrel over trifles with the pirate queen, but dealing with the creature stealing from my pocket is a necessary thing. Well, and most importantly, the Eclipse sisters work under the leadership of Jena Stokk. Or rather, part of the Eclipse sisters, who are a branch of the main Eclipse group. And this branch employs exclusively asari, whose dead carcasses I need to continue the experiments.

But for now, you will have to stay on Omega for some time: Victoria does not have any accommodations for the crew, such as sleeping places, toilets or showers, as well as a kitchen. No, there are several fully furnished cabins, but they were designed for single occupancy and are certainly not designed to accommodate more than three reasonable people in one room. In short, it takes time to prepare Victoria. Fortunately, I had a project for arranging living quarters in my ship for a long time, I began to think it over and bring it to fruition after Shiala's first hint that she would not mind flying on Victoria. And now the Phalanx is working according to plan, transforming the empty rooms on the middle level of the frigate in the shortest possible time. And at this time, Aria's people brought into my ship the things necessary for arranging the ship, including bedding, hygiene products, a month's supply of food for half a hundred reasonable, including both a standard amino acid supply and one based on dextro protein, and other little things like a sedative for krogan. In general, the preparation was serious, although the journey there and back would take at most three days, but you never know what will happen. That's why I'm forced to stay on Omega for another four hours, fortunately, by remotely controlling my Freeman on Victoria, I could keep an eye on Aria's workers.

Of course, we discussed everything with the Queen of Omega in advance, so I left her, albeit not in high spirits, but in a more or less calm mood. And it was nice to get into the exosuit again, as if I had become invulnerable again. True, I still had no idea where to go and what to do, but everything was decided for me.

"Hey, T'Soni, come join us!" the familiar voice of one chatty turian reached me through the loud music.

And I was not mistaken, Glacis showed up in a separate small room of the club in a chair at a table where he played cards with three more of his "colleagues", judging by the gangster faces.

"Varen damn you Glas, you're screwing me!" the krogan jumped up from his seat, enraged by the loss, but calmed down as soon as the turian, shrouded in cigarette smoke, casually waved his submachine gun in the air.

 In general, the conflict resolved itself, and as soon as I walked into the hospitably open door, it slammed behind my back and attracted attention. The jumping krogan with a green crest and powerful muscles stood out especially.

 "So that means you'll give us a lift to the place, right?" the lizard said mockingly, flexing his muscles.

-Calm down Brock, the guy will tear you to pieces and won't even notice. Moreover, Aria allowed him to get rid of particularly zealous morons if they fucked on his ship." Glasis besieged the krogan, to which he only snorted and returned his attention to me. "Aria has already given me everything, our guys will be ready on time." I am in command of the operation on the ground. This is Ovek Brok, responsible for the krogan stormtroopers. And this is Lom Lok'k and Dahak, responsible for snipers and engineering support, respectively. In addition, in the Dahak group there are a couple of hacker brothers, first-class specialists. With me will be soldiers who have undergone army training in the Turian army—.

While Glasis was busy with the performance, I examined his colleagues and if there were no complaints about the salarian, then Dahak...

"No." He didn't let the turian speak again. —The batarians have nothing to do on my ship.—.

- Hey, guy, don't get excited. I understand that you don't like the batarians, but the Dahak guys are really excellent specialists, you won't be able to find someone like them in a few hours," the xenos tried to convince me to change my mind.

-I will provide you with my furs. And I'll help myself. But no Batarov on my ship.—.

-Okay, perfume, okay! "I need to contact Aria." Glacis gave up and left to talk with his boss.

As I thought, such a replacement was acceptable. The batarian calmly left the room, except that he tried to push me with his shoulder as he passed by, but I still decided to get to know my temporary crew better while playing cards. Well, it doesn't hurt to discuss the tactics of a future operation.

Well, after seven hours, Victoria, having disappeared into all spectrums except the visual one, flew up to the repeater in order to embark on a new mission.