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Interesting Times

Coming to terms with being reborn? Doable. Finding out you're in the Mass Effect universe? Slightly more difficult. I know I'm no soldier material but I want to do what I can to help save the galaxy. To that goal I will become one of the worst beings in human society. A businessman and politician. #reincarnation #self-insert #masseffect #kingdombuilding #space #star #scifi #war

Zanarkand_Kido · Videojogos
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58 Chs

Interesting Times - Chapter 37

June 10th, 2173

18:27

Citadel, Widow-System

Ad Astra HQ

My eyes snapped open, and I sat up, looking all over my office in a panic. I could feel how my heart was beating in my chest at a tempo as if I had just run a marathon.

It took me almost a minute before I calmed down enough to get my bearings.

Grabbing the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes and shook my head slightly, muttering: "Don't get so worked up, Oscar. It was just a nightmare."

Coming back to the Citadel after months of absence and staying only for a short time filled my schedule with appointments with people and events only I could attend. Be it people who wanted to speak with the big boss at the top and not someone they perceived as below their station or my appearance in the departments where my employees from other species worked.

Everything had to be handled by me while I remained on the Citadel since nobody else could take over my duties for just a moment without offending anybody else.

That, in turn, led to me not sleeping enough for the last few days and was also why I just woke up in my office chair.

I lifted my arms above my head, interlinking my fingers and pulling my shoulders upward. Satisfying cracks sounded out of my shoulders and back as I pushed my hands slowly backward.

There was nothing better, in my opinion, than a bit of light stretching after waking up to get rid of the remaining dizziness of sleep.

My eyes wandered to the clock hanging on the wall to the right to check the time.

The clock had been a gift from an associate who had been immensely grateful to have been chosen for a particular task. It wasn't like he was the best choice, but I wanted to hire a local business instead of someone, perhaps a better competitor, from out of the solar system. Supporting local companies always sounded better in the press.

Anyway, my associate was grateful to be chosen that he procured an old clock face of a clock tower that was some hundred years old when I mentioned to him that I was interested in history. It had a storied history to its name, and I told its tale to more than one person who stepped into my office.

In fact, my office had more than one object with a rich history behind it. Curiosities, gifted by others or collected by myself. Talking about them always helped to break the ice during a tense meeting or get the other person to relax.

The clock face was just the biggest one in my office and spared me the need for other clocks apart from the one in my Omni-tool.

It was right around half past six, and in another fifteen minutes, I would have a meeting to decide if Ad Astra opened a new branch in a new technological direction.

My hand moved to the intercom to my right, and I pushed the button to connect me to the front desk. "Carol," I began, "is my quarter-to-seven appointment here?"

"No, Mr. Denebren. He hasn't arrived yet. I will ask at the front desk. Perhaps he already entered the building. I will call when I know more."

"Thank you, Carol. You're a dear."

Pushing my chair back, I stood up while rolling my shoulders to get rid of the rest of the kinks. My steps brought me to the clock face's left, and I slid my hand gently over the wall.

With a soft click, a part of the wall separated itself from the rest, sliding a bit back before disappearing to the side and into the wall.

A small bathroom was behind the door, and I stepped into it to throw some water in my face and check if my clothes were still looking good.

Looking neat and orderly was a vital aspect of every business meeting. Nobody wanted to make a deal with someone who couldn't even be bothered to take care of themselves and their clothes. Something like that didn't inspire trust in their abilities and in the person themselves.

Taking a towel from the side of the washbasin, I dried off the remaining water on my face before dumping the towel in the basket for used ones.

I left the hidden bathroom, and the door behind me slid seamlessly back into its original place. Without previous knowledge of its existence, nobody would be able to notice it without any tools to help them.

"Mr. Denebren," Carol's voice rang out from the intercom, "your appointment arrived at the front desk and is currently coming up to your office."

"Ah, wonderful," I responded after walking over to my desk and pushing the button to respond. "Please show him in when he arrives."

"Of course, Mr. Denerben. Do you need anything else?"

"If you could prepare a selection of drinks for us, that would be great. Coffee, hot and cold water, and some teabags should be enough."

"I will bring them in when they're ready."

"You're a dear, Carol," I thanked her and closed the connection.

I took a seat on one of the three couches placed around a small table to wait for my guest. Bringing my Omni-tool up, I checked my emails and the news while I waited.

Thankfully the wait wasn't long, and I barked a short "Enter!" when the soft chime rang to announce that there was someone in front of my office.

The door opened silently, and Carol entered the office with my guest only two steps behind her.

Carol was a short woman, barely exceeding the 1.5m mark, and that was with high heels. Yet nobody who stood before her would ever dare to think of getting on her wrong side.

She kept her long dark brown hair in a strict fishtail braid that went over her left shoulder, and together with her white blouse and black pencil skirt, both without any wrinkles, she was a picture of professionalism.

But it was her eyes, those dark, almost bordering on black, eyes that stopped anybody cold. She told me once that growing up in a community with very few cultural and ethnic varieties while having a British mother and a Korean father hadn't been easy for her. She had been the only one that looked different and, as children were wont to do, had often been the target of their childish cruelty.

It took her a while, but she perfected a look that promised retribution if the opposite party didn't stop whatever they were doing. Of course, back then, she had to carry out that retribution if that look went ignored, which only helped to solidify the message that look carried.

Thankfully, she didn't need to carry out any retribution anymore, but if she had to use that look, the message in her eyes was still clear to see for anyone. But if it ever came to it, I was sure that she wouldn't hesitate to do whatever she thought was necessary.

"Major Alec Ryder, military attaché to the Human Ambassador," she introduced with a slight bow to me, more out of formality than anything else.

"Thank you, Carol," I said with a smile, getting up from my seat and walking over to the two.

"If you will excuse me," she returned, and I dismissed her with a slight nod.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Ms. Yun," said Ryder with a deep voice, somewhat rough from a life of shouting orders in the heat of battle.

She gave Ryder a sharp nod and left the room to bring us the refreshments I asked for.

As I got closer, I got my first good look at Ryder.

He looked older than I remembered. What, of course, wasn't that much of a surprise since we hadn't seen each other in years. If I was honest, he was looking closer to the hazy image I had from the Mass Effect Andromeda game than the young man he had once been. Yet, that could have been just my imagination.

After all, with every year I spent in this world, my memory concerning the details of the games had grown hazier. The important plot points still stood out, but smaller, less important details started to disappear with time. And then there were the things I never bothered to remember in the first place. For example, I still remember that there was a side quest in the first game concerning Prothean data disks, which would be mighty useful things to have, but on which planets they were, that's something I never bothered to memorize. And it's not like I could look up those things on a Wiki page somewhere.

Turning my thoughts back to Ryder, I observed him more closely as I held out my hand for him, which he grabbed and shook with a firm squeeze.

His face was clean-shaven, and if I had to guess, he probably did it this morning, as no new hairs were coming out, which would have been easily seen as black hair tended to stand out on white skin.

Along with that, I noticed that he looked rather pale as if he hadn't seen the sun in quite some time. Furthermore, there were light shadows under his eyes, like he had only recently gotten enough sleep to keep functioning at peak conditions.

"It's good to see you again, Major Ryder. What has it been? Ten, almost twenty years since the last time?" I greeted him with a smile.

"I'm doing fine. Thank you for asking, Mr. Denebren," he answered with a smile of his own, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Nonetheless, I could see that it was genuine.

Ryder's eyes moved over my face and all over my body in quick motions, probably analyzing me, just like I did to him.

I let go of his hand and pointed toward the sitting area. "I'm sure we could use some comfort while we discuss. So why don't we take a seat? Carol should return with some refreshments soon anyway."

"That's not necessary," Ryder tried to refuse while moving to one of the couches and sitting down.

I took a seat on the one opposite of him and made myself comfortable.

"It may not be necessary, but I'm still doing it. Or rather, Carol is doing it. There won't be any rumors of me being an inattentive host as long as she's working for me."

"If you insist," conceded Ryder with a quiet chuckle. "I don't want Ms. Yun's efforts to go to waste if she's already doing this."

"I haven't yet met anybody who would dare to waste her efforts. There's nobody brave enough to do so. Not even me and I'm paying the woman," I joked.

I could see how Ryder's posture slowly relaxed. From the moment he sat down, he was almost as stiff as a board, and his whole body just screamed tense to me. If it was because of me, this meeting, or something else, I didn't know. But thankfully, my joking and light attitude helped him to get comfortable.

It wouldn't do either of us any good if one of us was stressed during the whole meeting.

"She seems like a formidable woman," commented Ryder, and as if summoned by his words, the door to my office opened once again.

Carol entered with a tray held between her hands. As she got closer, I could see the assortment of drinks and cups placed on it, and a small bowl with a few teabags stood on the side. She placed the tray on the table between us and asked: "What do the gentleman want to drink?"

"I think we will be able to pour the drinks ourselves. Thank you, Carol," I said with a nod to her, trying to dismiss her.

"It will be no problem, Mr. Denebren. You have worked hard the whole day, so let me take over such mundane tasks. You certainly deserve to be pampered a bit," she responded, and while her words may or may not have driven some heat into my cheeks, her smile froze the blood in my veins.

She wouldn't take a no for an answer, so I just gestured toward the tray and said with a sigh: "Then I would like a coffee, please."

"Of course, sir," Carol answered, and the ice in her smile disappeared like it had never been there in the first place.

She took a cup, poured some milk into it, and filled it with coffee before taking a spoon and adding a drop of honey.

"Just like you prefer it, sir," she said, handing me the cup before turning to Ryder. "And for you, Major?"

"A coffee, as well," he said, already knowing that there would be no back talk allowed or assurances that he could do it himself.

It didn't take long until Carol prepared Ryder's coffee and left the office, but only after reminding us to call on her if we needed anything. An offer, which was more of a command than anything, we acquiesced to with silent nods.

"So," I said after a few moments of silence during which we enjoyed our coffees, "I guess Anita already talked with you about the reason I asked for this meeting."

"Yes, she told me about it," Ryder admitted. "Furthermore, she also said it was her idea to arrange this meeting."

"That's in the eye of the beholder," I waved his words away. "In the end, it was still my decision to hold this meeting. Anita may have pushed the first stone, but I'm going to try to make a building out of them."

"And what made you decide to continue with this course? AI isn't a topic that is well-liked in Citadel space," inquired Ryder. "I should know since I've dabbled in it for... personal reasons." He looked somewhat uncomfortable when he evaded to outright state his reasons for delving into a subject that could cost him his career in the Systems Alliance Military if the wrong person heard about it and decided to do some damage control.

"Humanity's situation is nowhere near being a proven entity in the galaxy. We're surrounded by sharks that would like nothing more than tear us apart and use us for their own benefit. Some would like dear friends while using us to bolster their power, while others would like nothing more than to collar us and keep us as their pets."

"In essence, you want to give humanity an advantage that the other galactic entities can't replicate without stepping into a territory they themselves declared taboo," concluded Ryder.

"Exactly," I agreed enthusiastically. "I haven't followed this avenue as consistently as I perhaps should have done, but I'm trying to rectify this mistake right now. Anita highly recommended you, and I'm inclined to follow her advice. If she thinks you're capable and trustworthy enough not to develop an AI that is going to kill us all and prove the Council's fears, then, of course, I'm going to reach out to you. So, are you interested?"

Ryder leaned back into the couch, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. All the while, his eyes never left my face, trying to find any trace of deceit. He was wary that much was clear to me.

The offer was probably too good to be true for him to just accept it. It wasn't like I didn't understand his hesitancy. The stress he must have lived with had to be enormous. At any moment, he could have been dismissed from his position and the military if the wrong people found out about his research.

And now, there was me. Someone with enough power to legitimize his research and the assets to support him at every step.

"I'm," Ryder began hesitatingly, choosing his words carefully, "inclined to take you up on your offer, Mr. Denebren. I have to admit, my reason for delving into this subject is not entirely centered on improving humanity's position among the rest of the galaxy. Instead, they're more in the selfish category. Yet, I can also see how the ideas that are swirling in my head could improve the lives of humans across the galaxy. The military is only one of the possible fields where it could improve the lives of thousands."

I nodded along with his explanation, already knowing why Ryder had started his research. From the games, I remembered it had something to do with his wife, and after some research into the Ryder family's circumstances, I had a better picture of the situation.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you know most of the reasons why," he continued.

"I do," I admitted unashamedly. It wouldn't do me any good to deny knowing anything. If anything, it would only work to the contrary. "Should you decide in my favor, I'm sure we can work something out that will benefit your wife's health."

I know I shouldn't have done it by the way he glared at me for bringing it up, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to dangle a carrot in front of his face.

"Please don't glare at me like that," I lifted my hands in surrender. "I take care of my employees and their families. It's been a company policy since the beginning. Why do you think people are running over each other to work for me?"

His glare lessened before he started to chuckle. "I guess I should have expected you to do this. I don't know if you're trying to coerce me or if you're just that nice."

"I would say it's a little bit of both," I admitted.

"Well," grunted Ryder, "at least, you're not denying it. I can work with that."

"Does that mean..?"

"Yeah," he said, bringing a smile to my face, "I'm taking your offer. It was only a matter of time before someone found out about my side interest. Avoiding a dishonorable discharge is probably for the best."

"And by working for me, you still can support the Alliance with your talents and research. Just with much better funding."

My last comment brought a sly smile to his face. "That's one of the parts I'm most looking forward to. Truthfully, looking into AI development is a costly endeavor, and not one the Alliance would be happy to cough funds up for. I had to use my own savings, and those are slowly drying up."

He sighed deeply. "Furthermore, I'm not sure if I'm happy with the course the Alliance is currently undertaking."

"How so?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed. If something was going on that I or anyone else didn't notice, I had to know about it.

"It's just that the development of the military orientates itself too closely to what the other galactic superpowers did and do. Currently, we follow in the footsteps of the Turians and Asari. More ships. Bigger ships. I feel we're not applying our talents the best way we could."

There was some truth to what Ryder said. No. Scratch that. There was a lot of truth to his statement. The Alliance -and even I- concentrated on increasing the standing military forces and the number of ships available. And not just that. The thought that bigger and better also meant more firepower had taken root in our heads. One only had to look at the monstrosity of a ship currently under construction in the Olympus system. The Ruler-Class ships would become an essential part of our power as a galactic entity and a mighty weapon to wield against the Reapers, but did it deserve that we focused only on it and those that would come after it?

I found the answer to that question shortly after asking.

And it was a resounding no.

The more we focused on the Ruler-Class, the more we neglected other parts of our military.

For example, the current generation of fighters worked well, yet they could be better.

We had some carriers, but there could be more. Besides, their modularity and the modules themselves could use an update too.

"We should reexamine our focus," I whispered to myself, yet loud enough that Ryder perked up when he heard me. "Look at the parts that could use an update, and do it." My voice got slowly louder as I saw more and more possible applications. "And not just the military. We should take a good look at our whole infrastructure. How do we get our materials, how do we build the things we need, how can we make all those parts more efficient."

I looked up from the part of the table I had been staring at and directly into Ryder's eyes. He flinched back for a moment before gathering himself. Perhaps he was taken back by the fire in them that would continue to burn in them for the rest of the week as I sent out orders to restructure some -many- of my operations and the priorities of my think tanks -or so would Carol tell me later-.

"I should write you a check for a bonus, Major Ryder. Not even part of the company officially, yet your counsel was already invaluable."

Plans were forming in my head. The names of people I had to talk to appeared like they were written on a list. Some of them would eagerly follow my orders and suggestions, while others would need some coercion, a bit of shouting, or outright threats to do so.

"I," started Ryder hesitatingly, before swallowing once and continuing with a strong voice, "am glad to hear that I could help. More so that you also see that we could do things differently from what we're doing now."

"I didn't see it before," I admitted. "Perhaps I was also stuck in that line of thought. Yet, sometimes all you need is someone telling you what they see from the outside to change your perspective. And all those saying about new perspectives? Well, it seems they're true, Major."

"Not a major for much longer, I think. I think if you call me Alec that would be for the best. Mr. Ryder doesn't sound right after all the time I was called Major Ryder."

"If you think so," I said, a grin slowly appearing on my face. "But for now, you're still a major, so until you sign the contract, I'm going you call you Major Ryder. That should be alright, right, Major Ryder?"

Ryder just let out a suffering sigh at my attempt at teasing him before shaking his head.

"I should never let you meet my wife. She likes to tease me fiercely. You two would get along well. Perhaps too well for the sake of my sanity."

The humor that had appeared in his eyes during our short banter disappeared and was replaced by an inquiring look.

"How long do you think it will take to build a lab and get it running? Now that I have some backing, I'm itching to get to work."

"It will take some time," I answered, thoughtfulness replacing my own humor. "Getting the permit will take something over a month, two at most. The groundwork had been done a long time ago. I can't start building a lab before I have the permit in my hand. Otherwise, it would look like the Council's decision was a safe bet for me, even if it is. The public and the Council won't like that, and the latter is spiteful enough to delay the proceedings as long as they can if they're feeling slighted. Then comes the security checks of the lab. The first time by my people, after which we're going to close any security gaps we can find. The time after that, it's going to be Council inspectors, and getting them to give the OK for the facility is going to be a whole different kind of beast.

In the end, I would say it's going to take something between 8 months to a year."

"Well," responded Ryder, "it's certainly enough time to get my affairs in order. And it's enough time for my resignation to go through the hell that is the Alliance military's bureaucracy."

"Is it truly that bad?"

"Not always," answered Ryder with a snort. "Sometimes it's worse."