Interesting Times - Chapter 32

June 7th, 2173

15:23

Citadel, Widow-System

Human Embassy

Ambassador Goyle's office

"There has to be something going wrong if there's a message waiting for me to come here when I'm not even on the Citadel for three days yet," I said as I sat down in one of the comfortable chairs in front of Anita's desk.

Anita gave me an annoyed look, and I didn't know if it was because of my casual greeting or that I sat down without waiting for her permission, as it would be proper.

Her time as the human ambassador on the Citadel made Anita a stickler for protocol, and I couldn't help but do my best not to follow them if it was just the two of us.

"Please stay serious, Oscar. Right now, I don't have the patience to deal with your antics." She gave me another look that spoke of deep-seated tiredness, and I decided to stop agitating her.

Usually, Anita welcomed it after some time when I ignored protocol and helped her unwind. Her job was stressful enough without me adding to it.

I leaned forward, bracing my arms on my knees and crossing my fingers in front of my face.

"You look more stressed than usual," I noted. "What's going on? And is it something I can help you with? You know that you only have to ask."

A small smile hushed over Anita's face, and she shook her head negatively. "Thank you for the offer, but it's not something you could help with. The Council tries to convince the Alliance Parliament to accept some more regulations. All in the name of further cooperation and to better integrate the Alliance into the established system. Of course, they're also dangling the carrot of technological advancements in their faces, and the Parliament is willing to accept. Idiots, all of them."

"What kind of advancement?" I asked, interested in what the Council was promising.

"That's the real kicker," spat Anita. "It's not really clear what they're willing to give to us. The deal is about the data the Salarians pulled from three damaged Prothean Beacons. All the data they could save and decrypt. And apparently, it will revolutionize our use of eezo. At least, that's what they're saying. Who knows if it's really everything they pulled from those Beacons or if they're going to conveniently forget to transfer something that's actually useful for us."

"The parliament is really thinking of agreeing to this?" I wondered. "Why should they? It's just a matter of time until we're on their level, so why would they exchange a short period of time of inferiority for a lifetime of being under their thumbs?"

"That's the same argument I put forward," complained Anita, throwing her hands in the air. "But the moment the words 'decrypted Prothean data' got thrown into the room, they were all for it. Most parliament members were there when humanity found the Prothean Beacon on Mars and remember the technological leap shortly after." She turned towards the window overlooking the Presidium, her arms crossed in front of her. "They have forgotten that we didn't pull that much data from it in the first place, and everything that came after was based on human ingenuity."

"You don't have to tell me that," I said calmly. "I was there. But I can understand their point, too." I stood up, slowly walking toward her side while continuing to talk. "To them, the Protheans are these wise, powerful predecessors. The beings that built the Citadel, the Mass Relays, and who knows what else. They don't know what we know. And for the time being, that's alright."

"How's that alright?" Anita asked, frustration evident in her voice. "For the sake of quick and easy technological advancement, they're willing to put us under the thumbs of the Council. It won't end just with this. Once the Council got their way one time, what's going to stop them from doing it again, and again, and again? Before we know it, we're going to be a client state like the Volus. It starts with small things, but before we know it, we sold our freedom."

"If it comes to that, the solution is quite easy," I said, standing next to her, my eyes looking over the Presidium.

"And what's your oh-so-brilliant solution?"

"We take it back."

I didn't want to sound too presumptuous, but I thought my line was epic. At first, it seemed like Anita thought the same, with her wide eyes and slightly open mouth, but my assumption was quickly dashed when she started to giggle.

"'We take it back'? Couldn't you find something that isn't so corny?"

I rolled my eyes and answered: "I thought it fit. You go on and on about us losing our freedom, and I say we take it back. It might have been corny, but at least it got you out of your mood."

She shook her head, and I could see that a small smile had replaced the frown on her face.

"That it did," she admitted.

"What regulations is the Council even trying to push onto us?" I asked.

"Essentially, they want a front-row seat whenever we find Prothean ruins and control our progress of decrypting the data we find. Of course, they call it something like ensuring the correct handling of invaluable relics through the presence of highly-trained experts."

"Does this new regulation apply to newly found Prothean sites or all?"

"All," Anita responded. "This means if we want to dig deeper into the Mars Archives, we will need a Council-approved expert. The work there was already slow with all the newly discovered sites and the other discoveries," she grumbled, alluding to ruins of the even older space-faring species the Alliance found. "If they even send one anyway."

"Ah, you think they're going to intentionally slow down our progress in learning from the Prothean Beacons and other artifacts. To keep us from growing too fast and upsetting their balance, or better yet, to make us dependant on them."

"That thought crossed my mind," admitted Anita.

"Then you shouldn't worry so much," I said confidently, and she looked at me with one delicate eyebrow raised. Her question was written clearly on her face, and I was more than willing to answer it.

"First of all, the regulations are only for Prothean sites, and I like to think that our own resourcefulness and creativity are more than enough to bridge the gap." I carefully stressed the word Prothean but never said out loud that the ruins and technology of other species were not included in these new regulations. And even in the case of the Council finding out, legally, we would have done nothing wrong.

Yet, saying this out loud would have been dangerous. We may have been in the office of the human ambassador, and the security here was immense, but I didn't discount the fact the Citadel had been the playground of the STG for centuries.

The possibility of them being interested in our conversation right now was quite high, and even if the window was a one-way mirror, I wouldn't put it past them to somehow read my lips through it.

Paranoid, I know, but better safe than sorry as long as our position wasn't as secure as we would like.

I sighed and shook my head. Thinking about a problem you knew you couldn't change was a waste of time.

"Is there anything else I should know?" I asked, steering the conversation away from our previous topic.

"The Batarians," started Anita and stopped for a moment. If I didn't know her any better, I would think she was considering which words would be polite, but I knew she was considering if she would be polite in the first place or cuss up a storm about them.

She went with something in-between.

"The Batarians are getting bolder with each passing month. Their recent success in 'proving'" Anita put air quotes around the word "their innocence in the pirate raids against our colonies made things worse. The newest Batarian ambassador is some noble high up in the hierarchy of the Hegemony. He struts around the Presidium and the Council Chambers as if he owns them. As far as I know, he got the position through some of his connections and treats it like a vacation. Thankfully, he's an idiot that can't see that he isn't making any friends with his attitude. Even the other Batarians employed by their embassy try to limit their interactions with him as much as possible."

"They send such a moron over?" I asked, not quite believing their stupidity. My opinion of Batarians wasn't the best, and I recognized that I was biased against them, but I would have never expected them to do something so stupid.

"Yes, perhaps it's arrogance, thinking that they can get away with it, but the Batarian Hegemony is slowly losing political influence. Even Councilor Tevos is losing her patience with the Batarian ambassador, and that woman has the patience of a stone. And the Turian Councilor, Brackus, got into a shouting match the last time they met. But that's not something out of the ordinary for Brackus, he's very temperamental for a Turian."

Anita scratched her neck with her right index finger, drawing little circles with it. It was one of her habits that came to the forefront whenever she was thinking about something deeply.

"The only reason why the Batarians aren't losing their political influence faster is that the Assistant Ambassador, Tak Clama, is a by far more reasonable person. He works around their ambassador and does it well. Even the Council prefers to invite Clama if they have to deal with the Batarians and only call on their ambassador if they have no other choice, or it would be a grievous insult to do otherwise."

"Is he a problem?" I asked.

"You sound like Andrew," said Anita amused. "He asked the same thing and offered to remove the obstacle if necessary."

"And is it necessary?"

"Not at this moment, no. When I have to deal with the Batarian Hegemony, I would rather do so with someone who is competent and doesn't make threats or yells around every other second."

A sigh escaped Anita.

"Furthermore, political assassination isn't done here on the Citadel. It is one of the unwritten rules that everyone abides by. Even a place as cutthroat as the political scene needs some rules. Everything else is permitted but not murder."

The slight smile on Anita's face turned predatory.

"Besides, I can work around him easily enough. If I have to deal with just the Hegemony, I work with Clama, but if it involves another party, or is something that involves the Council, then I invite their ambassador. His temper is enough to damage their reputation and shines a better light on us as the reasonable party at the same time."

Well, if that were the case, I would leave it in Anita's hands. She seemed to have the situation in control, and if I involved myself without her direct permission, anything I did could make her job more difficult.

One had to trust others to do their job well, or else one would be stuck micromanaging everything, and that was not something I personally had the inclination or patience for. Anita had much more experience with dealing with Citadel politics, and the best I could do was listen to her advice, especially if I wanted to succeed her in a few years.

But, there was one thing that stood out to me, and I had to ask her about it.

"You know, you always call him the Batarian ambassador," I commented lightly, "but what's his name?"

I was actually curious. Anita hadn't mentioned his name once, and I didn't think I heard it somewhere else, too.

Anita turned to me with a confused look as if to say that she already mentioned it and opened her mouth to say it again.

Yet, instead of chiding me for my inattention, she closed and opened her mouth a few times, not knowing what to say, before a look of disbelief flashed over her face, and the tips of her ears turned red.

"I can't believe it," she whispered, more to herself than to me. "I don't know his name. I don't know the Batarian ambassador's name."

"What was that?" I asked with a shit-eating grin.

"I don't know his name, ok!" she responded harshly. "I know where he spends his free time and his favorite restaurants, and I even know the name of his preferred consort. But, for the love of god, I can't remember his name!"

I could barely hold back a snigger at how worked up she was because of this.

"That's not like you. Normally, you're pretty good with names, and it's not like you to forget something like this."

"I know," she groused, "but somehow I can't remember it. It never was that important to me, I've always addressed the Batarian ambassador by his title, and that was enough." Her eyes widened a little as if she only realized something important now. "And I believe I'm not the only one."

"Not the only one?" I asked, looking for clarification. "Do you mean you're not the only one that doesn't know his name?"

"I believe so," she agreed. "During every meeting he attended, he was always addressed as ambassador. And nothing else. Not even the Council has called him by name even once."

This time I couldn't hold back my snigger completely. "Shows how high the Batarian ambassador is held in regard."

Even Anita couldn't hold back a quiet giggle anymore.

The light atmosphere continued for a bit before my smile dimmed, and I asked: "But in all seriousness. Is there anything else I should know?"

"The pirate raids on our borders are steadily increasing in frequency," said Anita, her own smile vanishing from her face. "It's only a matter of time until they get bold enough and try to hit a major colony. A few months, perhaps a year? We're sending more and more troops to the border, but the pirates are slipping through our cordon anyway. They seem to know our border patrol routes."

"Any idea how that can be?" I asked concernedly.

If the pirates could slip through our ranks undetected whenever they wanted, it would become a problem of unknown proportions. It wouldn't just be the actual security risks. The feeling of being constantly in danger would deter any further colonization efforts close to the border since everyone would be too afraid to get close to it. Furthermore, the damage to the Alliance and the current governing party's reputation would be immense. Nobody liked a government that failed to protect them, and the people would lose faith in it faster than a Krogan could fall into a blood rage.

"Andrew has some theories and has his people looking into the matter."

"Let me guess," I said, "he's suspecting that someone is selling them information about the patrol routes."

"That's our working theory," Anita agreed. "There's not much to support it, but the possibility alone is daunting. We don't know if it's one of our people, a Batarian spy, or if some opportunist of another species is behind it. The AIS is looking into all these possibilities, and we can only hope they find the leak. And fast."

While Anita listed the different possibilities, my only thought was that it hopefully wasn't the first option. If it came to light that a traitor in our ranks was responsible for the loss of life and the destruction of property amounting to millions, then it would crush spirits throughout Alliance territory. The only bright spot was that the pirates and slavers hadn't managed to take any humans as slaves until now, the Alliance military stopping them before they could get away with them.

Yet, that could change in the blink of an eye.

Just the thought that there was some kind of scumbag out there who embraced the possibility that some of his fellow humans would be taken as slaves for his own monetary gain made me sick. The Batarians weren't exactly nice to slaves of different species, as some escapees reported.

Not that those reports changed anything.

The Council was too preoccupied with preserving the status quo to push for real change.

Well, with the worsening relationship between the Council and the Batarian Hegemony, it could be only a matter of time until the Council decided to set some new rules in that regard, even before the Hegemony withdraws from the Citadel.

Still, that wasn't something I could influence better than Anita, so I would just let her do her job. She had a better overview of where to push to effect change.

"If Andrew has taken on the job of searching for the leak, then it will be found," I assured.

"Of course, he will. Else, he would have been ousted from his job long ago. If he doesn't find such a huge security risk, there will be a long line of people wishing to take the job from him. In fact, there is already a long line wishing to do so."

"There are?" I asked dubiously. My question wasn't out to ask if there were people willing to do his job. His position was high up in the Alliance hierarchy and came with a lot of power and influence in the day-to-day business of the Alliance. So, of course, people were lining up to take the job. The real question was why Andrew hadn't gotten rid of them.

"He finds it amusing," answered Anita, who understood what I was asking. "For him, it's like a relaxing hobby to make them run around like headless chickens while they try to cover their bases. As far as I know, Andrew ends up hiring those that can do it well enough. Besides, he told me that if he can't keep them away from his position, the one who ousts him deserves the job."

"That sounds like Andrew," I nodded.

I could see that there was something that Anita wanted to tell me. She was obviously looking for an opportunity to direct the conversation toward the topic she wanted to talk about but couldn't find the right moment.

As the good friend I was, I decided to just ask her.

"So spit it out," I said, and perhaps the words sounded a bit harsher than I intended if I interpreted her startled look correctly.

"There's something you want to ask and don't know how," I continued, taking care that my words came out lighter than before. "You know me, there's nothing you can't ask. In the worst case, I say not, and that's it."

"You're right," sighed Anita. "The point is, what I want to talk about is quite sensitive. It could get the Alliance in a lot of trouble if it got out that we are even marginally interested in that topic."

"And I wouldn't get into trouble?"

"As long as you follow the correct procedures there shouldn't be. How far along are you with getting a research permit for AI?"

Oh. AI research. That was definitely a topic the Alliance should distance itself from. At least, officially.

"I didn't concentrate on that in the last few years. Dozens of other things kept popping up, but I still got people trying to make inroads in that direction. If I put a bit of pressure at the right points, I should be able to get a research permit in the next six months to a year."

Most would think that AI research was completely prohibited by the Council, especially after the fiasco with the Geth and Quarians. Yet, all of the dominant species in the galaxy continued to look into the topic, the Salarians ahead of everyone.

I think only the Asari banned research and development of AI unconditionally inside their territory, and they tried to push for a ban in the whole galaxy every few years. Something that always failed due to the Salarian's veto. Quite surprising since the Salarians and Asari were in agreement about most topics.

Still, I could understand the position of the Salarians. They neither had the sheer military manpower of the Turians nor the biotic prowess of the Asari. Their intelligence and technology were their equalizers, and the utility of a functioning AI -one that didn't plan your extermination- wasn't something to be underestimated.

Still, the research into AI experienced a setback after the Geth Incident when the panic about any aspect of it reached new heights, and several labs got destroyed by terrified people. Centuries of research were destroyed.

Conspiracy theorists claim until today that these attacks were initiated by the Asari. Personally, I thought that there was some substance behind the rumors, and the fact that the Asari insisted on sharper restrictions for any AI research did point in that direction.

Furthermore, every Council member could decide to send a Specter to inspect the research facilities at any time they wanted without any prior warning, something which Councilor Tevos did regularly. Interestingly, Tevos always sent two Specters, one Asari and a Specter not of the species that owned the to-be-inspected facility.

Apparently, there was some scandal a few decades back when an Asari Specter added not existing security flaws to her report that led to the shutdown of a research facility. The addition of a non-Asari Specter was ruled as the logical consequence but didn't stop the fact that Asari Specters were looking for any excuse to shut down AI research facilities. Over time, further regulations were put in place.

For example, the facility had to be visited once before they started any work in them, and all flaws found had to be fixed before the next visit. Facilities could only be shut down when security risks were found on three different inspections after the first visit. Should any mistake found not be fixed by the next inspection, the facility can be shut down immediately.

There were many more regulations and exceptions for special situations that I thought that the topic had to come up regularly in discussions between Council members.

Funnily enough, it was way easier to get a research-permission as a private individual than as a government agency. Any government had to spring through so many hoops to open a single research facility that it wasn't funny anymore.

Furthermore, any member species of the Citadel had to have an embassy for at least twenty-five years before they were even allowed to file a motion.

Yet, the previously mentioned restriction didn't apply to individuals of said species. In short, I could legally apply for a research permit while the Alliance couldn't. The only stipulation was that I had to prove that no money or resources I used for the facility or research came from the Alliance. In short, I had to pay for everything out of my own pocket.

Nothing too daunting for me since my pockets were rather deep.

So, all in all, getting a permit and keeping it was just a matter of stubbornness to go through the bureaucracy and having enough money so that its cogs ran smoothly.

"Good," nodded Anita, bringing me back from my thoughts.

"You haven't told me a reason until now," I reminded her.

"You remember Major Ryder?" she asked, and I nodded in response.

"Yes, Major Alec Ryder. N7, if I remember correctly. Wasn't he part of our escort when he first stepped foot on the Citadel?"

"Correct. Major Ryder came two me a week ago with a project that he thought could give the Alliance the needed edge in regards to our position in the galaxy."

"And let me guess," I interrupted her. "It had something to do with AI."

Anita shot me a pained smile. "Not hard to guess, right? I got a good picture of what he planned, and it looked like it would help us immensely, but, you know?"

"The Alliance can't be seen involving itself with AI research at this point," I finished for her.

"Not at this time, no. We have neither the required years for a permit nor the political clout. The Alliance is the new kid on the bloc, so to speak, and our rise is still looked at with suspicion and doubt by the other species in the galaxy. Lust for power is just one of the things they say about us behind our backs, and should we involve ourselves with AI research, we will lose a lot of goodwill I managed to achieve during my years on the Citadel."

"And my reputation won't suffer? Or the Alliance's? You know, since I'm a human, too?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in doubt.

"I thought about that, too, don't worry. There will not be any problems. You may be an Alliance contractor, but you're still an individual. There are no laws prohibiting you from obtaining a permit, even if the Alliance isn't allowed to yet. I don't know why that's so, but I think it's because this situation never happened before. Most Citadel members either were part of it for more than 25 years or weren't that interested in AI research after the new regulations came about. I had our embassy lawyers check the laws and regulations for the past week over and over, so it's perfectly legal. Of course, that will change after you obtain a permit, but the Council can't do anything retroactively. They will probably put you under harsh scrutiny, and if they find any reason to close your facility, you will be banned from AI research throughout life, but I have faith in you."

She smirked at me and added: "And nobody will think it unusual that you're obtaining one. Your diverse portfolio is thankfully helpful in that regard. Starships, weapons, armor, construction, mining, and don't you even own an ice cream factory?"

I leveled an unimpressed stare at her. "Yeah, laugh it up. It isn't like I haven't been made fun of for that by you and others at least once a year."

What can I say? I liked the ice cream they produced, and the company was about to go bankrupt. Thousands would have lost their jobs, and saving those had been my good deed of the year. It gave me good PR, my name wasn't exclusively tied with tools of war and destruction anymore, and since then, the company recovered and brought in a small plus.

"So, what do you say? Can I arrange a meeting between you and Major Ryder?" Anita asked, looking slightly nervous.

I could understand her apprehension. Should I say no, then she had to tell Ryder that there was nothing she could do.

Over the years, I had forgotten many of the smaller details of the Mass Effect games, but I remembered that Ryder left the Alliance when they weren't willing to fund his research. It had something to do with his wife, but what exactly? Well, it didn't matter right now. I would probably find out soon enough.

The thing that mattered right now was that Ryder was an asset the Alliance couldn't lose. And I was probably their last option to keep Ryder tied -even just loosely- to the Alliance.

"Three days from now," I said, and Anita's shoulders dropped slightly in relief. "Ad Astra headquarters, Citadel branch. If he needs more time to get to the Citadel, the appointment can be pushed back a few days."

"That won't be necessary. Ryder is still on the Citadel with his family," assured Anita. She laid her hand on the side of my arm and squeezed slightly. "Thanks for that, Oscar. That helps me a lot."

I smiled at her and said: "I believe I said I would help you if you needed me, didn't I?"

Besides, Major Alec Ryder wasn't someone I was willing to let go of. He developed the AI SAM, and something like that could become a game-changer in our fight against the Reapers.

And perhaps further beyond.

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October 3rd, 2173

06:43

Illium, Tasale-System

Porto Dekola

The sunlight coming in through the window hit my eyes, and I slowly returned to the waking world.

Not that that was a good thing. I would have preferred to sleep a bit more, but I contented myself with staying in bed for a few more minutes. It was just so damn comfortable.

Yet, even that had to end.

I sat up, and the soft blanket smoothly slid down my naked torso. While turning sideways to get my legs out of the bed, I stretched my arms upwards to work out the kinks in my back. A satisfying pop came from my left shoulder, and I slowly pulled my arms back down, resting them on my knees.

It was still early, but the sunlight was already flooding the bedroom, and my eyes had a hard time adjusting to the brightness.

I had never been a morning person, but with every passing year, it got worse. Probably one of the symptoms of getting old.

A soft murmur came from behind me, combined with the rustling of the blanket. A few moments later, a soft hand touched my back, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth it provided.

"Already up?" asked a feminine voice, tinged with the tiredness of a barely woken person.

"Yeah," I responded, my own voice not much better. "I'll have a flight to catch."

"It's your ship. Couldn't you just tell them to wait? We could spend some more time in bed," she said, trying to sound alluring, which was offset by the yawn that followed shortly.

I looked over my shoulder, putting a warm smile in place while the hand on my back disappeared.

"While that sounds lovely, I can't. I dislike having to adjust my timetable, and if we stay in bed, I'll probably have to adjust several days' worth of meetings. And you know Cicerio. He would nag about the delay for months."

My eyes wandered over the naked form of one Mirala De'Tiyovi. Her hands were flat on the bed behind her back, pushing her upper body up, and I had the feeling she was pushing her chest slightly more in my direction than was necessary for her position. The blanket pooled around her legs, and through the light red fabric, I could appreciate the contours of her hips.

When my eyes returned to her face, the first thing I saw was a small smirk. She had noticed my wandering eyes, and if I learned anything about her in the last months, then it was that she was proud of her body and loved it when someone appreciated it with due respect.

"Well then," she said with a fake sigh, "get going. Perhaps I'll spend the rest of the morning in bed, enjoying it by myself." To accent her words, she used one of her hands to slowly trace the side of her body, disappearing beneath the covers and finding its way to the inside of her thighs.

With an act of immense willpower that I refused to show outwardly because that woman knew what she was doing and would jump on any perceived weakness, I tore myself away from the sight.

"You do that," I chuckled and stood up.

If my chuckle came out a bit weakly, then it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that De'Tiyovi had almost convinced me to stay in bed and damn the consequences.

I collected my clothes from where they were carelessly scattered on the floor and put them on.

A quick check of the time told me that my shuttle would be here any minute, and I walked towards the bedroom door.

"I'll see you when you get back?" she asked as I made my way through the room.

I stopped at the door, turned to her with a smile, and answered:" Of course, yours will be the first address I'll visit that night."

The sentence "Looking forward to it" followed me after I left the room.

I kept a smile on my face as I made my way through De'Tiyovi's house to get to her personal landing spot.

The house was one of her more private properties, away from the eyes of the public, and thus, perfect for our little affair.

The shuttle was already waiting for me with an open side door when I arrived at the landing spot, and I didn't waste any time entering it.

The door shut behind me just as I was falling into my seat, and my driver accelerated the moment my ass was firmly planted in it.

The smile I had kept on my face during my way through De'Tiyovi's house disappeared almost immediately.

If someone looked at my relationship with De'Tiyovi they would see a secret affair between two public and prominent persons, perhaps even something with real feelings.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

We liked each other well enough after working together those last few months, but there were no feelings between us that would lead to any serious relationship.

Or perhaps a better description was that we liked each other enough to work together. Both of us were trying to gain the upper hand in our partnership, and that wouldn't end for a long time.

And the reason why we have sex?

Well, it's claimed that Oscar Wilde once said: "Everything is about sex except sex. Sex is about power."

Or did Sigmund Freud say it?

The only thing that mattered was that the quote was correct. De'Tiyovi and I tried to gain power over each other by trying to create some feelings in each other. Feelings that could be exploited.

Was it morally wrong? Yes, definitely.

Did any of us care? Definitely not.

We both knew what the other was trying to do, but we kept the charade up because it was amusing.

And the sex was great, not gonna lie.

I had several lovers over the years, but just like with De'Tiyovi, I kept my dalliances out of the public eye.

But enough about her. My thoughts would turn to her again after I finished my business with Cicerio and I was on the way back to Illium.

I already got several concessions out of her after I managed to get her a permit to open up a branch on the Citadel. She was noticeably distracted by the endeavor to get her operations to run smoothly, so I had an easier time taking advantage of her resources without her knowledge.

For now, I had to concentrate on what was before me.

Cicerio was a stickler for punctuality and order, like most Turians I had the pleasure to get acquainted with more closely. Should I not meet the deadlines he set then I could kiss my hope goodbye that I hopefully could convince him to introduce me to his contacts in the Turian military.

And it was those contacts that were the foundation of Cicerio's influence and power.

In terms of financial power, Nisco Ron and I were the powerhouses of the Circle of Alameina, and I didn't know which of us would come out as the winner if we ever compared our total assets. Cicerio was a small fish compared to us, and he wasn't exactly poor either. Having enough money to buy the number of weapons the Turian military wanted to get rid of, told me that his account had enough zeros to buy a small planet or at least a moon.

Yet, his contacts were by far more valuable than any credits he had. Just being able to arrange this deal meant that his contacts in the Turian Hierarchy had enough influence to make this deal possible.

Furthermore, his contacts weren't just restricted to the Turian military. Cicerio knew people all around the galaxy and from all walks of life. Be they from the different militaries of the galaxy, its numerous mercenary groups, or people deep in the underbelly of galactic society.

One had only to ask and pay the right price, and Cicerio would be able to get it. He could probably get hold of an old atomic bomb of Turian design.

No matter how much the Turians, along with the Asari and Salarians, may decry the use of atomic bombs as barbaric, before they made contact with the Citadel, or perhaps before their Unification war, the Turians had used nuclear bombs in their wars, probably, even more than humanity.

The only difference between them and us was that the Turians hadn't used one on their one homeworld, as far as the public knows. Just a few of their colonies.

The fact that their unique physiology made them more resistant to the typical fallout of nuclear explosions likely decreased their reluctance to use them, too.

Fun fact, of the big three -Asari, Salarian, Turian- only the Asari didn't develop a fissure bomb or any of its diversions. The Salarians created one, but there had never been a situation where they had to use one before it became obsolete. And the Asari? They developed something just as deadly, only without the fallout. It wasn't a hard mental leap that the other galactic civilizations followed the Asari's example and created weapons of mass destruction that were just as deadly or even more so, but without the pesky side effect of radioactive contamination.

And wasn't that interesting? The so-called greatest civilization of the galaxy didn't deprecate the creation of weapons that could erase the lives of thousands or even millions in an instant, but something that denied the user his spoils, for example, the immediate use of the area where an atomic bomb was fired, was called barbaric.

It was hypocrisy at its finest, and it was so human that I knew we would have done and will do it, too.

I couldn't help but chuckle quietly when I noticed how far my thoughts drifted away from the topic I had first thought of. History had always been one of my favorite subjects back in school, and the pasts of the other galactic civilizations were incredibly fascinating.

And the more I delved into their histories, the more I was convinced that weren't so different as some believed.

Of course, there were some differences that couldn't be ignored, like the fact that the Asari were a mono-gendered species, but if one closed their eyes and pretended that physiological distinctions didn't exist, it was easy to imagine that we were all one species. Our cultures, our ways of life, different because of the conditions of our environments we had to adapt to and not because we are different species.

Nobody would say that the ancient greeks and the Maya were two different species because they differed in how they went about their lives.

At least, that was how I decided to see the world. It helped me to understand the inhabitants of the galaxy a bit more, and it would help me in the future when I would have to deal with their representatives in the name of the Alliance.

A jerk of the shuttle brought me back to the present, and the pilot's voice came through the intercom.

"We left Illium's atmosphere just now. It should only take a few more minutes until we arrive at the Sagittarius, sir."

"Wonderful," I replied, keeping the comm channel open. "Please tell me when we're only a minute out."

"Of course, sir. I'll tell you immediately."

A quiet click signified the closing of the comm channel, and the only sound left in the passenger cabin was the almost unnoticeable humming of the eezo-core.

The Sagittarius was one of the four ships that would be tasked with the transportation of the cargo Cicerio had acquired. Be it crates of weapons, ammunition, or something bigger like APCs or even tanks. The ships like the Sagittarius would be able to transport it easily.

If they could carry thousands of tonnes of unrefined materials from the fringes of known spaces to whatever place they were needed, then they should be able to do the job.

Else, I should probably look into replacing them.

Those four ships, the Sagittarius, the Gemini, the Aries, and the Libra, were hopefully more than enough for Cicerio, but they would probably have to make multiple trips.

The shipping manifest Cicerio showed me listed enough items to fill four-fifths of the loading capacity of the four ships, including the proper securing of the cargo, and I wasn't naive enough to believe that the manifest was completely accurate.

Cicerio was probably holding back information about a good portion of the items he wanted me to transport, and it wouldn't surprise me if the total amount of crates doubled by the end of it. Furthermore, contrary to his promise, he hadn't told me long in advance when the deal would happen, and two of the ships I intended to send on this wouldn't have been ready before the end of the month.

For that alone, I would take a pound of flesh from him and rework the contract we had agreed on a month ago.

I should set up a second contract too, just in case he wouldn't let me specific crates to make sure I didn't transport anything illegal.

A simple contract that I wasn't responsible for the content and that he took full legal responsibility. I wasn't an idiot, and I had no interest in taking the fall for him.

"Sir, we're close to the Sagittarius."

"Thank you," I answered, and prepared myself for the change in gravity that would happen when we entered the hangar bay of the ship.

I took more look around the cabin of the shuttle and thought about spending some of the time we traveled in here. The Sagittarius wasn't a ship built with comfort in mind, at least not the kind of comfort I was used to.

But I probably wouldn't.

Spending some time around the decks of the Sagittarius, and talking with the crew members would help me keep my image up, and the people would have a nice story to tell of how they met the big boss and how nice he was.

Thankfully, the trip is a short one, I thought with a sigh.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

October 6th, 2173

02:03

Terkon-5, Ikirium-System

Warehouse District of Laudurum

Levin Banks

Sneaking into the warehouse was as easy as Luk had said, something that was like a minor miracle in Levin's opinion.

The times Luk had been correct in that regard could be counted with one hand, and there would still be fingers left. The opposite had happened far more often, to Levin's chagrin.

He had stopped counting after the 30th time.

Yet, Levin would have preferred if the intrusion into the warehouse had been more difficult than Luk's prognosis. Because somewhere down the line, it would come back to bite them in the ass, and that situation would be much worse.

"See, I told you it would be easy," said Luk, his voice just a bit louder than a whisper, and Levin did his best to hold back the sigh that wanted to escape his mouth.

His once-mentor and now-friend couldn't help himself and utter these words, and from experience, Levin knew that Luk had just jinxed them.

The last time he said those words, they were chased by a pack of guard Varren not five minutes later.

Hopefully, it wouldn't end as bad and humiliating as that time. Trying to come up with an explanation about what happened while a nurse applied medi-gel to his buttocks was an experience Levin didn't want to re-experience. One time was more than enough.

Luk had noticed his unimpressed stare and made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Don't look at me like that, how should I have known that he had a pack of Varren patrolling the grounds?" he argued, knowing exactly why Levin gave him that look. "This time, I scouted and found all their security measures. And I checked for Varrens. Twice! There are none. And you can't hold that incident over my head forever. You know just as well as I that anything connected with Boss Blasko isn't normal!"

That...

That is something that Levin can't deny.

One could wander through the galaxy for five decades or more and never meet an individual like Boss Blasko ever again. Since joining Luk and his quest to become rich, he had met the strangest people, seen the most incredible things, and had his worldview shattered more times than he could count.

But amongst everything he experienced, meeting Boss Blasko was still and would ever be at the top of the list.

After all, how many people could claim that they met a Hanar crime boss? Furthermore, not just any crime boss, but one deeply fascinated by human crime bosses of the 20th century and acts like them? Or, at least, acts like they're depicted by movies from that time period.

Meeting a Hanar in a dimly lit office, sitting behind a desk, and smoking a cigar had been an experience for Levin, and afterward, he could say with pride that he was well on his way to seeing everything the galaxy had to offer.

Before, he didn't even know that Hanar were able to smoke!

How Boss Blasko rose to his position and how he managed to gain the loyalty of his lieutenants was a mystery shrouded in so many rumors that nobody knew for certain how it happened. Especially since one of his lieutenants was a Krogan.

Some say he proved himself by pitting two rival gangs against each other and mopping up the survivors, others claimed he killed two Krogans with nothing but his tentacles, and the most outlandish rumors said that he defeated a Thresher Maw on foot - or tentacle- by himself.

Honestly, Levin wouldn't be surprised if those rumors ended up as the script of some movie. They were epic enough for that.

Yet, Boss Blasko was only one of the incredible personalities Levin met on his travels with Luk.

There was this Krogan landlord who headbutted people if they brought too much dirt into his building and threw tenants out through the window if they missed the deadline for rent, the Batarian who was in charge of an animal charter, or the Turian who lived on a dumpster planet, searching for parts for his doomsday laser.

The galaxy was a place full of interesting people, and Levin was never not grateful that Luk took him with him.

And that's why he stuck with Luk, even if he got them in situations that had Levin fear for his life. He knew when push comes to shove he could trust Luk and vice versa.

"Come one, don't just stand there," said Luk, waving Levin towards him. "The crates we're looking for should be somewhere over there."

Levin followed after Luk, activating the flashlight function of his Omni-tool on the lowest setting so that the light couldn't be seen from outside.

Not that any light would escape the meters-high crates stacked on both sides of the passage.

The atmosphere was eery, and the only sound was the echo of their almost silent footsteps. Not even the wind howling outside the warehouse could be heard.

"Are you sure that everything is going according to plan?" asked Levin, flashing his light in the direction from where they had come.

"Yes, everything is going according to plan. Stop being such a worrywart," assured Luk, who walked forward, his own flashlight hushing over the labels of the crates in search of the right one. "The security equipment is displaying a loop for the next hour, and we should be out and gone long before the time runs out."

"If you say so," said Levin, not really reassured by Luk's words.

"That's the one!" exclaimed Luk, his voice excited but not louder than a whisper.

He walked towards the crate and put a codebreaker next to the electronic lock. The two of them waited for almost two minutes, either for the signal that the crate was open or that the alarm of the warehouse was going off. With their track record, both were viable possibilities.

Thankfully, it's the former, and the lock opens with a click, that echoes through the warehouse.

Slowly, as if he was handling a newly hatched Salarian baby, Luk opened the crate and shined inside with his flashlight.

"Levin, my dear friend, we hit the Jackpot," whispered Luk awed, and Levin could only nod when he saw what was inside the crate.

There had to be at least two dozen or more Turian military assault rifles of the last generation. A single one could go for several ten thousand credits easily on the black market, and now they got their hands on several dozen of them. Getting them all out of the warehouse without anyone noticing would be a hassle, but it wouldn't be that much of a problem for them.

Smuggling the herd of biotic space cows had been much more difficult.

Levin was allowing himself to smirk when he noticed the red point on Luk's back which was soon followed by a second. His mind not really processing what he was seeing, he turned in the direction from where the red points were coming and saw that he himself had suddenly three red points on his chest, and the worst thing was they were moving.

Unterstanding came slowly to him, but when it was there, it hit like a crash landing space shuttle.

He tipped Luk on the shoulder, and his tipping got more frequent when he was ignored.

"What!?" snapped Luk and turned towards him annoyedly.

Instead of answering him, Levin pointed in the direction the red points were coming from.

Slowly, like ghosts, they emerged from the dark, their weapons pointed at them, the muzzles not wavering for a moment.

"Oh," was Luk's helpful commentary, and he was as frozen as Levin in the face of the very real possibility of death.

A snap sounded through the dark, and in the previous silence, it sounded like the detonation of a bomb. The first thought going through Levin's head when the world suddenly turned bright was that the armed people before him had opened fire and that he would die.

Thankfully, it was only the lighting of the warehouse.

The fact that he almost lost control of his bladder wasn't important in comparison to the sheer relief that flooded him when he noticed that he wasn't dead.

But that relief turned to dread quite fast when he noticed who walked through the rows of armed soldiers.

After all, there was probably no human alive who wouldn't recognize him.

"You know, in a situation like this, it's normal to raise your hands in surrender," drawled Oscar Denebren.

Levin thought that was a piece of good advice.