Interesting Times - Chapter 51
October 31th, 2173
01:41 Illium Time
Illium, Tesale-System
Nos Astra
Ad Astra Branch HQ
I could feel the exhaustion creeping up on me. My chair might have been comfortable, but sitting in it for hours wasn't something I would recommend to anyone.
I slowly rotated my shoulders, first the right, then the left, to relax my stiff muscles while keeping my eyes on the monitors in front of me.
It had been more than half an hour since Commander Abebe had given the signal to begin the raids on the Eclipse bases, and from my perspective, everything was going well.
Perhaps too well.
Or maybe I was pessimistic, and there wouldn't be any hidden traps waiting for my men.
After all, Commander Abebe had waited even longer to start the raids than she had previously specified, all in the name of getting enough information to prevent any surprises.
She apologized to me for the delay, but I honestly didn't care if she postponed them for two hours or two days. There was a reason why she got the position of commander of the Ad Astra Forces here on Illium, and I had absolute trust in her skills and decisions concerning anything vaguely military.
If I started to doubt the skills of the people I entrusted with their positions within my company, there would be only a step until I tried to do everything myself, and that way was a one-way street toward being stressed to the limit.
The way Commander Abebe had planned almost every detail of six different raids while keeping enough room to react to any unforeseen events was a skill I did not have.
Well, that wasn't quite correct.
I could do it, but only in my chosen field of expertise.
And my fields were those of business and politics, not battle.
For example, I had already made more than one plan for how to proceed after tonight's events, depending on the reactions of others.
Would the public not care or condemn me for fighting against Eclipse? Would the government start to get involved after this night?
How would the people react back home? The Alliance government? The Council?
Those and more would react to everything I do. In different scales, sure, but they would.
Because of that, I was already hard at work to influence public opinion in my favor before anyone could get started on turning it against me.
Building factories through Council Space on worlds with mixed inhabitants and low income to create new jobs, supporting public projects and charities, and so on.
The goal was to create a picture of someone who, while undoubtedly on the side of humanity first, wasn't, in any way, biased against any of the Citadel races. As someone who tried to make the galaxy a better place for everyone instead of the power-hungry image, my opponents would try to push to the forefront.
The better my reputation within the other important factions within Citadel Space was, the easier my job would be when I became ambassador.
I winced slightly as that thought went through my head.
Truthfully, Illium and everything associated with it had only become a distraction from that goal and, in the end, a waste of resources.
Yet, the situation had crossed the line where I could pull out without appearing weak or as if I was running away from the Arbiter or Eclipse, especially after what Eclipse had done.
Should I wash Illium off my hands now, it would present an image of me that wouldn't do his absolute best to get justice, or revenge as some would call it, for those hurt while under my protection.
It would destroy the reputation and trust I had painstakingly built over decades within the Alliance, as it would go against everything I stood for.
Speaking of keeping my reputation as it was, I would have to return to the Alliance in the first three months of the next year, at the latest.
I had been away far too often and far too long.
And this time, I would stay there for a longer time without much opportunity to return to Illium other than for short visits. Hopefully, everything here would have come to an end I could live with, and the Illium Branch would turn from a problematic one into one that would turn out profit without much trouble.
I definitely wouldn't like to see the financial reports of this venture after the fighting was over, and how long and at what capacity this branch would have to work at to recover the used assets and start turning out a profit.
Probably years.
And if I ever got a seemingly great idea again, I would only have to look at the report to remind me of thinking it over triply.
"Operations Two, Three, and Five just gave the All Clear signal. All enemies at their positions have been eliminated. I'm giving the order to our recovery and intel teams to get in and get everything that could be of use to us," Commander Abebe interrupted my thoughts, which I was thankful for.
"Casulties on our side?" I asked.
"None. A few were wounded, but nothing life-threatening. They should be ready for duty after a few days of rest. The operations went exactly how we wanted, and Eclipse didn't get the chance to fight back effectively."
"That's good news," I commented. "The other operations?"
"Still within parameters," responded Commander Abebe sharply, her attention directed at the screen showing only three pictures now, albeit larger than before.
I nodded in response, but I didn't think she noticed it.
Instead of watching the screen, too, I returned my attention to my datapad, opening another mail to distract myself.
It was a short summary of the possible Turian Councilor candidates that had the chance to take the position after the current one's term of office would be over next year.
In contrast to the Asari and Salarian Councilors, who got the position for two to three hundred years and for life, respectively, after they got put into it, the Turians revaluated their Councilor after every term, which lasted five years and decided if the Councilor would keep his position or not.
Furthermore, any Turian could only serve as Citadel Councilor for a maximum of five terms during their life and only be chosen for the position once. In effect, that meant that if a Turian Councilor got dismissed from the position after one term for being inadequate, they used up their one chance of being in this position without the chance of even getting considered for the job outside of a state of emergency.
Councilor Adarchy had been the Turian Councilor since humanity made contact with the Citadel, and over the last decade, he had become somewhat open to the idea of a Turian-Human friendship.
Yet, with the coming year, he would reach the end of his fifth term and leave the position of Councilor open for new blood.
The speculation of who would become the new Councilor was a hot topic in many Citadel and Turian news magazines, with dozens of names thrown around, listing each's achievements and why they should get selected as Councilor.
The teams I hired to get through the Citadel and Turian news organizations managed to compile a list of the most likely candidates and added short biographies with reasons for their selection.
As I went over the list, I only recognized one name: Sparatus.
I recognized the name from the games, which seemed to be nothing more than distant memories to me now. Sparatus had been the Turian Councilor in them and would probably become the next Councilor in reality, too.
And I knew that not just because of some "future knowledge."
He simply was the most accomplished candidate with the right connections among the upper echelon of the Turian Hierarchy to make it happen.
While one or two of the other candidates could compare to him, I could see from the reports that he was the most ambitious among them, and ambition, if used correctly, could take one far.
I marked his name and sent a notification to the appropriate addresses to keep an eye on his career progression and let the matter drop from my mind for now.
When I looked up from my datapad, I could make out the slight frown on Commander Abebe's face, and I asked immediately: "Is something wrong?"
"Operations One and Six are finished. No casualties, a few wounds, but everything stayed within acceptable parameters. Yet, I worry about Four. They're meeting heavier resistance than anticipated, and I already had to divert Team 3 from their way back to base to their position for support. Furthermore, the destruction to the Eclipse base is substantial, and we won't be able to keep the authorities away for much longer."
"Scorched Earth, Asset Denial," I said with a tone of finality after thinking about an answer for a minute.
"Sir?" asked Commander Abebe, one eyebrow raised in confusion. Not because she didn't know what I had ordered, but why I had ordered it in the first place.
"We got information and equipment from five Eclipse bases. We don't need," I stressed the word, "a sixth. It takes too long, and with every passing minute, the danger of losing one of our people becomes higher. Keeping them alive is our foremost goal. Send the signal to retreat to a safe distance and then torch the place to the ground."
My tone was cold and held a finality that would make some people shiver with it.
Commander Abebe was not one of those people. Instead, she nodded at me and relayed my orders to the teams still fighting.
It didn't take long for the screens to show the teams retreating, leaving explosives behind with every step.
When they reached a safe distance, Commander Abebe looked at me to confirm my orders for a last time, to which I gave a single nod, not a single emotion visible on my face.
"Fire."
A single word was all that was necessary, and a single gunship, its markings removed before the mission, approached at a high speed. It didn't slow down for a moment as it flew over the Eclipse base, but it dropped three long rods from its bottom as it passed.
They fell more than they flew, and the moment they were about to hit the roof of the Eclipse base, a small thruster activated, aiding them in burrowing through until the rods came out on the other side, where it didn't take a second until they exploded. Together with the explosives, the retreating teams left, the base turned into a single ball of light that momentarily overloaded the cameras.
I watched dispassionately as the cameras adjusted and the light died down, revealing a burnt-out husk of a building.
"That takes care of that," I said and added a moment later: "Tell all teams to return to HQ. I will meet with our PR and legal teams to discuss our actions to counter the consequences that will no doubt come from this."
"Perhaps it would have been better to stick to the plan," commented Abebe with a wry smile.
"No, it wouldn't," I said, shaking my head. "It probably would have been worse. If the authorities arrived in the middle of battle, they would have gotten involved and hurt. And if members of the official government get hurt, everything gets more complicated. Right now, we can twist the situation into something where we can lay the blame at Eclipse's feet. For why would we destroy their base when we were obviously winning moments before?"
"Do you think they will buy the story?" asked Abebe as I stood up and stretched my arms.
"Why shouldn't they? The current leader of Eclipse here on Illium is a madwoman, and the first thing we will do is to get the public on our side. It helps that one of our allies has control over one of the biggest news networks."
"And if she's the Arbiter?"
"Then she would be stupid to reveal herself for such a small thing," I answered with a smile, turning around to leave the room and leave Commander Abebe alone with the unenviable task of cleaning up after the operations.
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October 31st, 2173
14:32 Illium Time
Illium, Tesale-System
Nos Astra
"...and while the investigation into the incident of last night in the Sela-District is still ongoing, official parties commented that the result was likely caused by the mercenary group Eclipse. The violence and destruction caused since more members of the group, formerly known as the most professional and reliable mercenary group in the galaxy, arrived on the planet has exceeded the statistics of the last two centuries. We have with us Dr. Bol, an expert on the social structures and behavior of independent militaristic groups. Good Day to you, Dr. Bol."
"It's good to be her.."
A chair crashed into the television, going halfway through the screen.
"Fuckers!" screamed Kalara Ayori, her face purple with rage.
Mabor could only shake his head at the display of unrestrained anger. He was used to Ayori's temper that he compared it to the ebb and flow of a sea. Sometimes there, sometimes not.
Yet, ever since coming to Illium, it had gotten worse, and his nominal leader barely spent any time thinking calmly. Truthfully, he suspected the drugs she liked to take to strengthen her biotic abilities.
It had gotten worse since those Ad Astra people took out one of Ayori's playthings.
The moment Mabor had heard about it, he ordered a relocation of all the assets and bases Nesta knew about. Clearly, they had been too slow if the destruction of six of their bases was any indicator.
Thankfully, most of their personnel and equipment on Illium had been elsewhere, and the moment he heard about the attacks, he had ordered another relocation to prevent Ad Astra from making use of any potential information they recovered.
If it had been up to Mabor, they would have relocated to another planet and given up the job entirely, and he had made the recommendation to Sedris with his last report, which she insisted on to keep an eye on Ayori, but he didn't think that much would come from it at this point. He had been against making an enemy of Ad Astra from the moment the job offer appeared on their table, yet his opinion got ignored due to the amount of money this Arbiter person had been willing to pay.
Any remaining doubts got buried the moment the Shadow Broker also sent them an offer for the same thing, as an additional incentive in his words.
Mabor had always wondered why the Shadow Broker sent them the offer. He had checked the validity to see if it truly came from the Broker, and all pointed towards it. Yet, Mabor couldn't understand the meaning behind it. If he knew about the offer from the Arbiter, he also knew that Sedris would take the job, so why waste funds for an already certain outcome?
The only reason that came to his mind was that the Shadow Broker wanted to make sure that Eclipse committed to this job, and with his name attached to the list of clients, Eclipse wouldn't -couldn't- withdraw without a very, very good reason.
The whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth for weeks after the deals got struck.
And now?
Now, the taste had turned into something akin to ash.
The six simultaneous attacks proved to him that they were dealing with an opponent who had an amount of resources and people that outstripped Eclipse's by far on Illium alone.
He didn't want to contemplate what it would mean for the rest of the galaxy.
Furthermore, Ayori had provoked them in a way that anyone with Oscar Denebren's, Ad Astra's boss, reputation would never take lightly. He had warned against it, and now they had to live with the consequences of ignoring his warning.
It wasn't enough that their bases got destroyed, but now they were responsible for the destruction in the eyes of the public, damaging their reputation fiercely.
If they didn't stand on different sides, Mabor would be able to appreciate Ad Astra's strategy even more.
They hadn't just made this fight into one of public opinion, which put a lot of pressure on their operations, but also managed to provoke Ayori, getting her into a mood where she would make mistakes, public mistakes, that Ad Astra could use to further sway opinions in their favor.
Mabor had to suppress a sigh, knowing that the following days would be a trial like nothing else since he would have to try and manage Ayori's mood to keep her from doing something extremely reckless that would put everything in danger and bring Sederis down on their heads.
"They want to paint us as crazy terrorists? I show them crazy terrorists!"
And that was his cue to intervene.
"Sederis won't be happy if we do that," Mabor said, speaking up for the first time since Ayori began to rant.
Bringing Sederis up was a surefire way to get Ayori's attention and to pierce through the rage and anger clouding her mind. After all, she was following Sederis as her playthings followed her.
From then on, he would have to walk the edge between making reasonable suggestions while also satisfying Ayori's desire for violence and destruction.
"The boss worked hard to make Eclipse's reputation into what it is. One incident where they claim that Eclipse is responsible is one thing, another is if it happens again in a way where they can prove it."
"Then what do you suggest? If we let those humans continue as they are, we will be pushed out of the game before long."
"Guerilla tactics. We know where they stationed their soldiers, so we hit them quickly and brutally before retreating. We use small teams to cause maximum destruction at minimal risk. It's the same tactic they are using against us with great effect."
"That could work," said Ayori, who seemed, to Mabor's relief, calmer now that she had the bare bones of a workable plan. "It's not enough to push them back, but it should give us some breathing room as they concentrate on defense. In the meantime, we consolidate our forces for tactical strikes against their infrastructure, which we also have to identify and scout."
Ayori walked around in a circle, one hand on her chin while the other held her elbow up.
Seeing his leader focusing on constructing a plan, Mabor quietly left the room to make a report to Sederis about the current situation.
Perhaps he would even get new orders or an update about how things were with the other operations.
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November 1st, 2173
13:23
Arcturus-Stream
Arcturus-Station
Alliance Intelligence Service
Andrew Clarke had just signed off on the last of the forms of the latest batch of paperwork required from him when his office's doors opened, and his secretary walked in, his arms full of datapads that would be, no doubt, another mountain of paperwork to work through.
When he was a kid, he would have never imagined that he would work as a spy one day and that his days wouldn't be filled with action-packed adventures but with mind-numbing paperwork.
If he had known, we would have thought twice before signing up.
"Thank you, Tobias. Just put them on the desk. I'll go through them as soon as possible," Andrew said while hiding his dislike of the new paperwork.
"Of course, sir. I need to remind you that you have a meeting with the Security Council at 1500 concerning the new patrol routes at the Alliance-Hegemony-Border, followed by another at 1800, to update you on all ongoing operations in Sectors X-10 to X-25."
"Bring the second one an hour forward. The meeting with the Security Council shouldn't take too long, and if it does, it will give me an excuse to leave early. They like to draw those meetings out with unnecessary discussions. I gave them the information we got about the Batarian's patrol routes before this meeting, so my presence isn't needed anyway."
"As you wish," answered Tobias. He put down the datapads on Andrew's desk and activated his Omni-tool to send out the updated meeting time. "There's one other thing, sir. The top datapad holds a private message for you."
"Thank you, Tobias. I'll call for you if I need anything else," thanked Andrew while taking the topmost datapad.
His secretary left the office, closing the door behind him as Andrew's eyes were already flying over the message.
A small smile appeared on his face as he decoded the first words of the message, written in one of the standard codes the AIS liked to use.
"Sequence 3, Book Nr. 5, huh? What is it that you need, Oscar?" Andrew mumbled to himself before saying louder: "Honey? Please call up my edition of 'From Russia with Love' by Ian Flemming, and be ready for input."
"Of course, Mr. Clark," answered the small holographic figure of a woman that appeared on the disk at the edge of his desk, her voice having an obvious synthetic undertone.
Andrew slowly recited the numbers displayed in the message from Oscar. Every combination of three numbers would lead to a page, followed by a line, and finally, a word. Four numbers would mean that it was the n-th letter within the word since, for example, not all names were available within the book series he and Oscar had chosen to use for the encryption of their messages to each other.
They didn't use it often, only when they thought that a certain amount of secrecy was needed.
The beauty of the code they were using wasn't in its complexity but in its relative obscurity and the fact that one needed intimate knowledge of it.
While they had agreed to use the book series of James Bond written by Ian Flemming as the basis of their code, a joke both had laughed about when they decided on it, the order of the 50+ books depended on which of the five sequences they wanted to use. This way, "Casino Royal" could be Book 4 in Sequence 2 or Book 43 in Sequence 1.
Furthermore, if someone wanted to crack the code, one had to know which version of the book they would have to use, as the placement of the words depended on edition, year, and publisher.
Without all this information, it was nigh-on impossible to get anything even remotely resembling a coherent message out of it.
As Andrew slowly finished reciting the numbers, he looked up to the holographic screen his VI 'Honey' had created over his desk, looking at the decrypted message.
"Request: Assassination, Target: Kalara Ayori, Payment: Favor," he read out loud to himself. "Well, that's certainly doable."
There was no need for him to look up the name as he was already familiar with it the moment Oscar had decided to begin his crusade against everything named Eclipse.
He had kept an eye on the situation ever since the failed assassination but hadn't seen any sign that the AIS would have to intervene more than passing on some of the information his agents in the area came across.
After all, he knew that Oscar would be pissed if he involved himself in this mess without asking or getting asked. They were the same in that regard.
And even now, Oscar wasn't asking for help. It was a transaction. Andrew would provide something, and Oscar would pay for it.
At least, that was how the two of them decided to see it.
Andrew leaned back in his office chair, thinking about who he would send to Illium.
That he would accept the request was a foregone conclusion. Kalara Ayori didn't have an importance to the AIS plans, not now, nor in the future. Her worth was basically nonexistent, especially in comparison to a favor from Oscar.
A few names came to mind, all exceptional for the task at hand.
Yet, one name appeared more fitting than any other.
Besides, it would be a good opportunity. Until now, any mission any member of that division accomplished had happened in Alliance territory. It would be good to see if they could achieve the same in an environment that hadn't been created by human hands.
With a nod, Andrew started to write down the orders on an empty datapad he would hand over to his secretary when he left for his meeting so that they would get to the right people promptly.