Interesting Times - Chapter 41

October 25th, 2173

05:32 Local Time

Illium, Tesale-System

Nos Astra, Spaceport Area

Tanja Fawley, Ad Astra Security Forces

The first rays of the sun started to paint the top of the skyscrapers in a bright mix of orange and yellow. Tanja had to crane her neck to look up, something quite uncomfortable with her armor on, but for a moment, she felt at peace, and her weariness disappeared. 

The night had passed without any incident. No attack by Eclipse or any of the gangs they had allied with. Yet, her team's captain kept them on guard, and with every minute closer to the time their replacement would arrive, he got more paranoid about an attack. 

Still, Tanja could understand his apprehension. The last few days hadn't been easy for anyone of the Ad Astra Security Forces. Fight after fight, people died left and right, and the enemies seemed neverending. It was exhausting. And after all that, Eclipse wouldn't try to push their position for almost ten hours? 

She tried to not let her thoughts ruin the moment of peace she got, but she couldn't help but to start sharing the feelings of her team's captain. Something was going to happen, and soon, she just knew it. 

It took only one look around, and she knew that whatever was going to happen would hit her team hard. Half her team was barely keeping their eyes open, and adrenalin boosts could only do so much when the mind was tired. Her captain had pushed them hard this night during their guard shift, but Tanja couldn't resent him for it. 

After all, Ad Astras Security Forces were stretched thin, and they couldn't rely on their so-called allies, this damned criminal scum, to pick up the slack. Especially after the last time, when a third of the gang members on guard turned around and fired on their own people. 

Fucking traitors, Tanja swore in her mind. I always knew it was a dumb idea to trust them. They only remember the word loyalty when you hold a gun right into their faces and forget it just as fast when you turn around. 

When a person suddenly appeared next to her, Tanja unconsciously tensed, waiting for an attack before she glanced to the side and visibly relaxed when she recognized him. It was her partner Boris Svetkowa who had decided that he rested enough to keep her company for the rest of their guard shift. 

"Anything unusual?" he grumbled, his voice thick with an accent that Tanja couldn't identify and had never truly cared enough to ask about after she found out Boris detested talking about his early life. 

"Nothing," she responded before adding: "and that is something I worry about." 

"So, you and the Captain think alike." 

"It's less thinking alike than being cautious. Eclipse attacked in regular intervals. We could almost set the clock after them. And now they're not doing anything? I don't trust this calm," Tanja responded, shaking her head. 

"When you put it that way, it sounds reasonable." Boris took a deep breath and looked around warily. "So you believe they want us to relax our guards before striking?" 

"It's what I would do. Exhaust the defenders by keeping them in suspense before attacking when they least expect it."

"If that's the case, I would have attacked more than an hour ago. I heard somewhere that our performance is minimal around 2 or 3 a.m."

While she didn't know if Boris' statement was scientifically proven, Tanja thought there had to be some truth to it. After all, around that time, she always felt more tired, but if she stayed awake some of the tiredness disappeared. If that was the case for others, Tanja didn't know and, if she was truthful with herself, didn't particularly care to find out. There was a reason why she had become a member of Ad Astra's security forces and not an academic as her mother had hoped. 

"But you're forgetting one thing," she replied after she had mulled over Boris' statement, "We're not dealing with other humans. Do you believe those fucking aliens care about us? They got their noses too far up in their asses for that. If anything, as Eclipse is mostly consisting of Asari, they would attack at a time when they are at their weakest." 

"And what time is that?" asked Boris, but one look at him, and one could see that he wasn't expecting Tanja to know the answer to his question. 

Something she confirmed with an uncaring shrug. "How should I know? I haven't studied Asari biology or any other alien biology. Didn't see the appeal. All I know is that if you shoot them, they die. Just like any other living being. What else is there to know?" 

Her response was answered by a sigh from Boris and a shake of his head, his way of showing her that he disapproved of her uncaring nature towards the other galactic species. 

They often had arguments concerning that issue. He was of the opinion that as members of Ad Astra, they should try to set an example for the rest of the human race. 

Tanja, on the other hand, couldn't give a rat's ass about the other species. Her father had died on Shanxi thanks to the Turian's overreaction, and most of her biases started after the event. Intellectually, she knew that the other species weren't to blame for the loss of her father. Hell, even most Turians weren't to blame. But she had been left with a very low opinion of aliens, and almost everything she found out about them hadn't helped revise the picture. 

She was about to throw a snarky comment toward Boris, and perhaps start the argument once again. After all, it would certainly be more entertaining than staring into the concrete jungle around them when suddenly someone started screaming. 

Boris and Tanja's heads whipped around to locate the source of the scream. It was Boris who spotted the screamer first. 

One of the various gang members that loitered around and were supposed to support the Ad Astra members rolled around on the ground, his right hand clutching his left shoulder. A dark-blue pool of blood slowly spread under the Turian. 

It took a few seconds for everyone to realize what was happening, but the moment someone shouted: "We're under attack!" they threw themselves at the defense barricades. 

It was just in time, too, as moments later, the rattle of dozens of mass accelerators echoed through the docks, and the barricades got hit by hundreds of bullets. 

"Why isn't the shield generator running?!" shouted a voice from somewhere, and Tanja recognized it as her team's captain's voice. "I don't care what happened," he shouted after a momentary pause, "just get it running, or we're going to have to mop up a lot more blood than necessary after we're done with fucking those Eclipse assholes up." 

"Well," said Boris, barely loud enough to be heard over the screaming and gunfire, "they did attack." 

"I would prefer it if I had been wrong," Tanja spat out before glimpsing over the barricade and firing a burst from her rifle at some Eclipse mercenaries that, sadly, had enough luck to duck behind a wall without being hit. 

"And missing the opportunity to say: I told you so? I think not," returned Boris while taking a grenade off his belt. His thumb hit the activator, and his head shot up and down to take stock of the situation. He didn't need a second look before he threw the grenade, and a small smile played over Tanja's lips when she heard the screams of Eclipse soldiers after the grenade exploded. 

"Good throw." 

"Thanks. Now let's give them hell." 

During the fight, Tanja lost every feeling concerning the passing of time. She only concentrated on keeping herself and Boris alive. 

Peaking out of cover, shooting at the targets she could see, and ducking whenever shots hit close to her. 

Absentmindedly, she followed her team's captain's order to retreat to the secondary defensive position after the shield generator rebooted, and it was clear that it somehow didn't get enough energy to create a decent enough shield to cover the primary defensive position without sacrificing its much-needed integrity. 

When the call to retreat came, she helped Boris drag a wounded Ad Astra officer behind the next set of covers. The man was barely conscious and pumped full with medicaments and medi-gel, but he still had an iron grip on his rifle, firing at the enemy lines without care, just to give them covering fire. 

After they finally got behind cover, one of the field medics ran over to take him off Tanja's and Boris' hands, and without even taking a moment to take a deep breath, the two of them ran back to their positions to support their comrades. 

She only started to lose her narrow-minded focus on the battlefield when she heard the familiar noise of a shuttle's engine coming up from behind their defensive line. Apparently, Boris heard it too, as he spun with her into cover, and they trained their rifles in the direction the shuttle was coming from. 

Tanja let out a sigh of relief when she noticed the colors of the shuttle and the symbol painted on its side. 

Next to her, Boris let out a relieved: "It's about time," and turned back towards the fight to give enough covering fire to let the shuttles land without too many problems. 

It wasn't like Tanja wasn't relieved too, but there were some things that confused her enough to not turn her attention back to the battle immediately. 

The model of the shuttle wasn't one she recognized as being part of the vehicle fleet at the Ad Astra headquarters here on Illium. It looked far more like a military transport than the shuttle that flew her and her fellow Ad Astra officers to this position. 

Furthermore, right next to the Ad Astra logo, an additional sign had been painted. A sign she didn't know. 

Yet, she didn't fear it was a trick of the enemy. They had to be allies, or someone would have them notified that an unknown vehicle had entered the airspace behind them. Of course, the security codes they had to send to get close to their position could be faked, but to do so would have taken far too long to be of any use. 

Any remaining doubt she harbored in her heart disappeared the moment the doors of the shuttle opened, and more than twenty fully equipped soldiers sprang out of it, their armors painted in Ad Astra's colors and with the company's logo proudly displayed on their chest. 

The soldiers -for they couldn't be anything else with their armor, the heavy weapons, and the general air around them. Definitely not normal security officers- ran to the barricades on the side where the fighting was the most vigorous and didn't even take a moment to sound out the situation before throwing themselves into the battle with zeal. 

Likewise, the hovering military transport didn't lose any time after it deposited its cargo before taking off to make space for the second shuttle. Just like the first one, its side doors opened, and another twenty soldiers jumped out, the short distance to the ground not bothering them for a moment before they ran forward to support the defenders. 

Four of them positioned themselves close to Tanja and Boris, and she finally got a better look at them. 

The armor they wore covered their whole bodies and looked to be thicker than the one Tanja wore. But despite the obvious extra weight, they moved with a speed and grace that she or anyone else in the security forces would be hard-pressed to imitate. 

They worked like a well-oiled machine, trusting their team members without hesitation. Hesitation itself seemed like a word they didn't know. Their every move spoke of a conviction that had to be the result of months, if not years, of training. Every time one of them got out of cover to fire a few shots, the returning fire from the enemy got less and less. 

It didn't take much longer, at least in Tanja's opinion, before the enemy completely stopped their attack, and when she turned to Boris, she saw that he was looking over the barricade, and a sharp smile stretched his lips thin. 

He turned to her, and she could see glee dancing in his eyes when he opened his mouth. "They're retreating," he said happily before repeating it a bit louder. "They're retreating!" 

Cheers rang out all around her, and Tanja couldn't help herself but join in. She grabbed one of the newly arrived soldiers and without any warning hugged him as tight as she could while repeating: "Thank you, thank you, thank you." 

The soldier in her arms seemed at first a bit confused before patting her back awkwardly with his left arm. He chuckled lightly and said: "Just doing our job, Miss. Ad Astra protects its people." 

"Where do you guys come from," asked Boris, his voice rumbling a bit more than usual. "I mean, I'm glad that you're here, but I never heard of you or seen you before today." 

"You could say we're the guys testing every new plaything that Ad Astra's sub-companies develop. And this is the first time we got sent anywhere. Normally, we stay at the testing facility," responded another of the soldiers after taking his helmet off. The soldier turned toward Boris and winked, a grin playing over his face. 

Tanja had to suppress a snicker when she got a look at Boris' face. He looked like he absolutely didn't understand what just happened, and before he could, a voice called out. 

"Jackson, Pierce, stop flirting and get your asses over here. We're gonna patrol the area. Alpha and Beta are pursuing the enemy to make sure that there isn't a chance for them to regroup. And our job is to take out any straggler or Eclipse in hiding." 

The two soldiers that talked to Tanja and Boris straightened their postures and responded: "Sir, yes, Sir!" They gave short nods before putting their helmets back on and running toward the position where their apparent captain was waiting for them. 

"Well," said Tanja, "that was that." 

"Huh," grunted Boris with a grimace. Seeing his expression, Tanja stepped next to him and bumped him with her shoulder. She didn't manage to get him to move with her bump, but she didn't try too hard in the first place. 

"Now, don't be like that. He seems cute," Tanja teased with a playful grin on her face. 

Boris slowly turned his head toward her and regarded Tanja with the most deadpan look on his face that she had ever seen on his face. 

"You know fully well that I have a fiancee, and I don't think that she would be amused if I start a fling with someone I don't even know." 

"Well, you could be right about that," Tanja responded, the playful grin not lessening in any way. "She certainly can be vicious if she thinks someone is intruding on her territory. Her time at the Batarian border and the constant fight against pirates and slavers did make her a lot more confident these past years. But I'm still of the opinion she would be more amused than anything. Margaret would never think that her teddy bear would cheat on her." 

"I guess if you think so, then there will be no problem if I tell her that you're trying to set me up with someone so that I won't miss her, right?" said Boris and started to walk away. 

The playful grin on Tanja's face froze, and she looked at Boris retreating back, her eyes widening in horror when she finally registered his words. 

"Now, wait a moment!" she called after him, taking long strides to catch up with him. "There's no need for that. Come on, let's talk about it a bit more!" 

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

October, 25th 2173

21:43 

Erzsbat

Vular-System, Kite's Nest

City of Ak'kur

Takar Bojek 

He slammed his glass down on the table, the alcohol that had previously filled it to the halfway point burning his throat and warming him as its effect spread through his body. 

Takar lifted his left hand, signaling the barkeeper to refill it again with the same drink he had ordered since he entered the bar almost two hours ago. 

He only kept one pair of eyes on his fellow Batarian as he refilled the glass with the deep purple alcohol just below the brim of the glass. A flick of his wrist activated Takar's Omni-tool, and he transferred the necessary credits with a little bit of extra for the service. 

The young Batarian manning the bar this evening would certainly need it, especially with all the chaos currently happening in the city. A few extra credits could go a long way in getting out of hairy situations. 

The Hegemony soldiers stationed around the city had the tendency to "kindly" suggest that citizens should support them monetarily or something unpleasant could happen to them when the stationed soldiers were not in top form due to lack of funds. 

Tarak snorted as he thought about their thinly veiled threats and protection racket. He had been stopped often enough by soldiers who acted more like thugs than anything else to know what was happening in this city. Sometimes they didn't even bother wrapping their threats in niceties and straight out demanded his money. 

It disgusted him how far the standard of the Hegemony's soldiers had fallen in the ten years after he finished his service with them. Back then, his commander would have punished anyone who even thought of committing such shameful acts. And with the creativity of his commander concerning punishments, they certainly would have never thought about doing it twice. Besides, doing it twice would have meant execution by his old commander. Perhaps it was a bit harsh, but Tarak absolutely agreed with his old commander that such behavior reflected shamefully on the whole Hegemony. 

Yet, that could also be because he had been a Purge Trooper, an elite, among the best of the best. They defended the Hegemony's honor, they protected the most important people of their society, and it was them who got called whenever the Hegemony needed its best soldiers. 

Tarak had fought for the Hegemony against the traitor Vakil and his army of Vorcha slaves, he had fought when the Pirate Lord Jurdon Klax thought that he had any right to the planets close to the Batarian border, even if they had been officially part of the Terminus systems, and Tarak would have continued to fight if it hadn't been for the injuries he sustained during those fights. 

Nowadays, he was simply a mid-level clerk with a cushy job in the colonial administration, a job that was as interesting and exciting as it was dangerous. 

In short: not at all. 

Yet, it did pay the bills, and Tarak knew it could have been worse. Fighting had been the only thing he had ever learned, and for the first few years, he had been completely over his head with the few tasks assigned to him. Thankfully, he had learned, else even his previous position as Purge Trooper wouldn't have saved him from being shuffled to a position that would have been undoubtedly worse. After all, he could have been sent to a backwater colony and asked to categorize soil samples. 

Nonetheless, while it wasn't what he had dreamed of, he was grudgingly satisfied with his current position. 

If it wasn't for those disgraces in the street, Tarak thought grumpily. Were the regular forces always this shameful? I didn't spend much time there after basic training, but I would have noticed it, wouldn't I? As long as my brethren are holding themselves to the old standard, I will have to accept it. 

He had only caught glimpses of some Purge Troopers in the city, most of the time, he had been too far away to get a good look at them, but the colors of their armor were distinctive enough to be picked out in a crowd. 

Hopefully, his hopes were true, and their moral code and behavior were like he remembered, as not even his past as a Purge Trooper would help him if they tried anything. After all, it hadn't helped with the regular forces. 

Tarak lifted his glass and took a generous sip of his drink before setting the glass back down and turning around on his seat, leaning his back against the counter. His eyes moved around the dimly lit bar, searching for escape routes and potential hostiles, just like the moment he had first entered the establishment. A habit that had never left him in the past ten years and would probably never leave him for the rest of his life. It was too deeply ingrained in his being for that to happen. 

There was some movement on the left edge of his visual field, and Tarak managed to focus on it without making it obvious that he had noticed it. Thankfully, he identified them as the five young Batarians who had come here to drink and moan about their lives for the last few days. The longer they were here, the rowdier and louder they got, and while some of their statements could be constructed as borderline rebellious, they still kept within their given rights. It was the usual moaning of young Batarians who hadn't found their place in their society yet and were unhappy with the restrictions they had to adhere to, thanks to their caste. 

In Tarak's opinion, these youths would need a few more years of seasoning before they realized that while they had only a slim chance of being promoted to a higher caste, the only thing stopping them from trying was themselves. Tarak's father had managed it, even if his forefather did a lot of groundwork, so why shouldn't anybody else manage it, too? 

And if you can't do it? Well, there was nothing stopping you from making it easier for your children to achieve it. After all, Tarak did it too. Perhaps not for his own children, as he had decided that this wasn't what he wanted, but nothing stopped him from supporting his brother and his children from achieving more than they could on their own. 

Before his thoughts could turn fully to the rest of his family, the door to the bar was pushed forcefully open, and a group of Hegemony soldiers stalked into the room with their weapons held loosely in their hands but nonetheless at the ready. 

They spread out through the room, eyeing every patron critically. 

It was obvious to Tarak's eyes that those soldiers were better trained and more disciplined than those he saw in the streets, and the reason why became obvious a few moments later when a Batarian in purple armor entered the room, his helmet magnetically attached to his belt. 

The sight of a Purge Trooper so close to him forced Tarak to jump from his stool and straighten his posture, especially after he noticed the rank insignia of a lieutenant on the Purge Trooper's left shoulder. 

His sudden movement caught the attention of the present soldiers, and around half of their numbers snapped their heads toward him while the rifles in their hands twitched. The other half kept their eyes on the rest of the patrons, looking for suspicious behavior. 

Yet, despite his sudden movement, nobody showed the slightest inclination to apprehend him. 

Perhaps it had to do with the Purge Trooper, who looked at him with an appraising look. Four eyes were trained on Tarak, and the upper two eye ridges were scrunched together in deep thought before they returned to their normal positions. The Purge Trooper walked toward him, his steps full of confidence, and stopped a few steps before Tarak. 

"You former military?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble, yet to Tarak's ears, it sounded a bit forced, like he was trying to give himself a deeper voice. 

Tarak had met people who had done something like that before. They thought a deeper voice gave them a more distinguished aura and projected authority better than otherwise. It only worked on those with not much field experience as soldiers of the Hegemony, and most that used that technique disregarded it after they had enough experience under their belt to be confident enough to project their authority effortlessly. 

To be fair, those with high-pitched voices needed that technique to be taken seriously, and some never stopped after using it long enough to become a habit. 

A single look was enough for Tarak to decide that the Purge Trooper in front of him belonged to the group for which it had become a habit. The relaxed stance of the Trooper was too full of natural confidence to be anything but. 

"23rd Purge Trooper Regiment, discharged ten years ago with full honors!" responded Tarak, saluting the man before him, which got him a respectful nod back. 

"19th Regiment under Major Vekor," said the still-unnamed Purge Trooper, something Tarak knew he wouldn't get. The names of Purge Troopers would never be spoken loud in any public setting in case of them getting back to unsavory elements that would look to use them for their own needs. 

"I heard a bit of the 23rd," continued the lieutenant as if he was just making pleasant conversation, but Tarak noticed that most of his attention was focused on the room around him. What he was searching for wasn't Tarak's concern, and he had no intention of getting unnecessarily involved. "If I remember, it was heavily involved in the Great Pirate Hunt more than a decade ago. Did you participate?" 

"From the beginning to the end, sir!" answered Tarak, a bit of pride at his accomplishments during the campaign swelling his chest. 

The Purge Trooper lieutenant hit his chest, right over his heart with his right hand, showing his respect in the common way among the Purge Troopers. "The Hegemony thanks you for your service, brother. May your deeds never be forgotten and engraved in the Pillars of Glory." 

Tarak responded with the same gesture and, after choking a bit, said: "Thank you, lieutenant. May your name echo among the greatest of us." 

With a simple nod, the lieutenant acknowledged Tarak's words before turning around and walking toward a badly lit corner. Two of the present soldiers joined him and positioned themselves a foot behind his two shoulders. 

"You are a difficult man to find, Toca Vek, very difficult. But I think your luck has run out now," said the Purge Trooper, barely loud enough for it to reach Tarak's ears. 

"I did my best," answered a voice, coming from a person in the corner that Tarak couldn't see very well, thanks to the bad lightning. "Yet, I believe you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours. Could you please rectify that?" 

While Tarak knew it wasn't his duty to aid the soldiers and the Purge Trooper, he couldn't stop himself from trying to listen to the conversation. Perhaps it had something to do with the sudden tension that filled the room like fog and could be cut with a sharp knife, but the extremely cocky and confident tone of the person in the corner of the room set his nerves on edge. Something was going to happen, and Tarak wanted to be ready to spring into action if it was needed, the quiet voice in the back of his head compelling him to do so. 

"No," responded the Purge Trooper sharply, his expression and tone giving no room for negotiation or further questions. 

"Pity, I would have liked to make further conversation. As you insist on being difficult, can we please go on? State your business and be gone." 

The disrespectful tone elicited a growl from Tarak's throat that was thankfully quiet enough not to draw more attention to him than his short exchange with the Purge Trooper had already gathered. 

"Toca Vek, you are under arrest for the instigation of a revolt against the government, abetting other so-called revolutionaries, aiding and collaborating with foreign instigators, and treason against the Hegemony. Stand up slowly with your hands over your head, or we will be forced to use violence." 

"Is it treason if I have lost all faith in the Hegemony years ago? Is it treason if those in power see us as nothing more than cattle for them to use as they see fit?! Is it treason that I want my fellow Batarians to live free of the shackles placed on us from the moment of our birth?!" The Batarian in the corner had gotten louder with every sentence until he practically screamed the last one in the face of the Purge Trooper, who looked decidedly unimpressed at this change in volume. 

The same couldn't be said for the two soldiers at this side. They looked increasingly uncomfortable and shifted in their places, nervously fingering their weapons, their eyes flitting around. 

Tarak noted that the patrons of the establishment followed the conversation with interest, some with perhaps too much interest. Furthermore, those patrons mostly kept passive faces, but thanks to Tarak's experience, he could see traces of anger and fury in their faces, and he knew that the situation could deteriorate at a moment's notice. 

"In the way you're doing it?" responded the Purge Trooper, his relaxed demeanor not flinching in front of this performance of aggression. "Yes." 

The Purge Trooper's answer cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter, and for a blissful moment, it was like Tarak could breathe freely again. It also had the additional effect of stopping the rant dead in its tracks. 

The Batarian in front of the Purge Trooper blinked, all four eyes showing confusion at this cold response before they took on a look of acceptance. 

"Well, if you say so. It seems like those in power have spoken. They ignored our words, and when we turned to drastic means to get them to hear us, they blame us and call us traitors to the Batarian race. It was them that drove us to this point, and instead of taking responsibility, they decided to eradicate us." The Batarian's voice was filled with a resigned defeat that struck Tarak like a hammer blow. He truly believed in his words. 

"But no more, I say!" The previous fire returned to his eyes and voice, and the two soldiers at the Purge Trooper's side took a step back, surprised by the sudden change in the Batarian. Meanwhile, the Pruge Trooper continued to view him stoically without any indication to stop him in his rant. 

That was something Tarak didn't understand. If it was him in this position, he wouldn't have allowed the Batarian to speak for so long, especially not in front of a crowd where some young impressionable Batarians were present. 

Yet, the Purge Trooper lieutenant did. Was it part of a plan? Did he know something, or was he hoping the Batarian would reveal something while he ranted? It was as he thought about the last option that something the Purge Trooper had accused the Batarian of came back to the forefront of his mind. One of the accusations was the aiding and collaboration with foreign instigators. Could one of the other political entities try to incite a rebellion within the Batarian Hegemony and use this unrest to push their agenda? 

Tarak shelved this line of thought for the moment as the rebellious Batarian continued with his rant. 

"We will fight back against the oppressors. May the Pillars be on our side and strike those undeserving of their mercy down." He pointed toward the Purge Trooper, and Tarak noticed movement in the corner of his eye. 

A slight turn of the head was enough to see what was happening, and before his brain could completely process the information, his mouth was already moving. 

"Gun! Everybody down!" Tarak threw himself on the floor, the gun in the hands of a Batarian firing two shots before the air was filled with more bullets as apparent collaborators of Toca Vek pulled out their guns, too. 

Some of the soldiers reacted slowly, surprised by the sudden violence, but most of them raised their rifles in time to fire back without mercy, killing the attackers in a shower of bullets while their kinetic shields stopped the bullets of the attackers. 

As sudden as the violence started, it ended just as fast, like a flash of lightning illuminating the night sky. And like thunder followed a lightning strike, the screams of the other patrons followed, too. 

The soldiers did their best to reassure those caught in the violence with more or less success. 

Meanwhile, Tarak slowly stood up, shaking off the glass splinters that fell on his back when some stray bullets hit the bottles on the shelf behind the bar and took stock of the situation. 

Thankfully, none of the soldiers or the uninvolved bystanders had been badly injured, and the worst injury had been caused to the barkeeper by the falling glass splinters. Tarak heard one of the soldiers speaking into his Omni-tool, calling for a medic, but the unhurried tone suggested that there were no serious injuries and that the attackers had been killed. 

As his mind turned back to the attackers, Tarak's head snapped toward the Purge Trooper, who stood still in the same position, calmly holding a pistol right in the middle of Toca Vek's eyes. 

"Did you think we wouldn't be ready for such an action? We entered the establishment ready for an attack from the onset." 

"I could certainly try. I won't ever surrender without a fight!" While Toca Vek tried to feign confidence with his words, the fact that all four eyes were focused on the muzzle of the pistol in front of his face betrayed his nervousness. 

"I'm sure," drawled the Purge Trooper with a tone that conveyed his disbelief. "Our interrogators will be glad you still have so much fight in you. They get bored if their interviewees spill their secrets too easily." 

With a nod of his head, the Purge Trooper ordered two soldiers to cuff Vek and take him away. Probably to a prisoner transport that was waiting outside. 

They marched him out of the room, just stepping aside for a moment to make way for the medics who entered the room, and Tarak let out a relieved sigh when they left the room. The lead medic scanned the room and ordered his assistants around while walking over to Tarak as the worst injured, the barkeeper, stood right behind him, leaning on the bar, blood slowly dropping on it from a wound right above his right eyes. 

A simple application of medi-gel and the gash was closed. 

It didn't take long until the rest of the bystanders got treated, some getting a mild sedative to calm their frayed nerves. 

It didn't take long, with the Purge Trooper standing in the middle of the room and ordering the remaining soldiers to clean the place up before nothing but a few bullet holes in the floor and walls reminded of the sudden burst of violence that had happened here just a few minutes ago. 

After all but two soldiers, who stood right next to the entrance had vacated the place, the lieutenant walked, his steps calm and sure as always, toward the barkeeper, who had gotten a clean bill of health from the lead medic, and coughed silently. 

"I and the Batarian Hegemony are deeply sorry that it came to such violence on your premise. Are you the owner of this establishment?" 

The barkeeper, still slightly shocked and under the influence of the light sedatives, shook his head and answered, his voice barely above a whisper:" Ah, no, sir. I'm not. The owner only comes by once a week and the last time was two - or was it three?- days ago. He won't show up in the next few days." He took a moment to think before continuing. "But, if he hears about what happened, I believe he will come if he's still in the city." 

"Then let me transfer some funds he will need to refurbish and repair the damages. It's only right if the Hegemony pays the damages, as they were caused by one of our operations. I will not have people say that there was any truth in that traitor's words and that the Hegemony doesn't take care of its citizens." The Purge Trooper held up his left hand, his Omni-tool flaring up in a brilliant orange, and the barkeeper, too baffled by what was happening, copied him, his own Omni-tool also flashing. 

"I believe this number of credits should be enough," said the Purge Trooper, lowering his hand as the barkeeper stared at his Omni-tool, his eyes widening at the number displayed. "Take around a day's wage for yourself, see it as hazard pay. But I trust that most will find its way to the owner, correct?" The last word was less of a question than a hidden "or else," but from the expression the barkeeper wore as he nodded dumbly, Tarak did not doubt that the owner would get his money. 

The issue of reparations done with, the Purge Trooper nodded respectfully in Tarak's direction, who returned the gesture and left the bar with the last two soldiers turning on their heels and following him out the door. 

Just as the last soldier left, the atmosphere in the room lost the last bit of tension that was always present whenever a Batarian in uniform was present, and Tarak took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly to let go of the last remaining tension in his body. 

He sat back down at his usual place at the counter and turned to the barkeeper, his eyes turning downward where his glass was still standing almost completely full. 

While it hadn't toppled over, he could see some glass splinters floating around in the liquid when he lifted the glass to inspect it. 

"Could you make me a new one?" he asked the barkeeper, holding the glass toward him. 

The barkeeper looked bewildered at Tarak and eloquently asked: "Huh?" 

With a roll of his eyes, Tarak repeated the question: "Could you make me a new one? This one has some splinters in it. And after the action just now, I certainly need a stiff drink." 

Thankfully, the was no need to repeat the question a third time as the barkeeper silently took the glass, poured the drink away, and, after taking a look at the glass, threw it in the trash before grabbing two new ones and putting them on the counter. 

Instead of pulling Tarak's usual go-to-alcohol from the shelf, the barkeeper grabbed a bottle of a much more expensive alcohol from the top and filled the two glasses with a generous amount. 

At Tarak's questioning look, he just shrugged his shoulder and said: "I need a drink too, and after what just happened I'm certain the boss will forgive me if I take a bit from the good stuff." The barkeeper held up a glass full of a violet liquid, and with a thankful nod of his head, Tarak accepted the glass. 

Tarak smelled an interesting mix that reminded him of some kind of flowers and freshly fallen rain as he lifted the drink and took a tentative sip. 

The drink was, in Tarak's opinion, pretty decent, but the subtle notes of the alcohol weren't to his taste. 

Apparently, the barkeeper thought the same as he pulled a grimace and said: "For that price, I would have thought it would be better." 

"Quite so," agreed Tarak, and threw back the glass, drinking the rest in one gulp. "Tastes like something the damn blue menaces drink." 

"The bottle comes from Asari space, so it's likely. Perhaps we just don't have their "refined" taste." 

The two chuckled at their barb at the Asari and their projected aura of luxury. Tarak didn't know any Batarian outside those of higher standing who didn't enjoy throwing barbs at the Asari, and even among those there was no shortage of mockery against the self-perceived rulers of the galaxy. 

"I would prefer to stay with my usual if it's no bother," said Tarak and held out his empty glass to the barkeeper. 

While emptying his own glass, the barkeeper pointed down to the counter with his free hand and put his own glass next to Tarak's after gulping down his drink and shuddering at the taste. 

He grabbed the bottle of Tarak's go-to drink and filled the two glasses to the brim. 

It would take the whole bottle and a half after that before Tarak decided to call it a night. The troubles that gripped the planet were forgotten, at least for the rest of the night. 

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

October, 25th 2173

22:08 

SUV Pythea

Unnamed Starsystem

STG Captain Morag Tey

"All systems green, we're safely in the star system." 

"I want a full scan of the system!" called Morag out from his position, looking at the data that was displayed on the display in front of him. "I want the system mapped as soon as possible. Any sign of life is to be reported immediately. And I want to know if there is a Mass Relay in the system. Furthermore, get the communication beacon running, we have been out of contact with the Union for almost twenty standard rotations. Who knows if there is still a civilization to return to!" 

After finishing, the Salarians on the bridge began to follow their captain's orders with the usual efficiency that Morag expected of them. There was no loud chatter, all communication happened silently enough so that everyone would still be able to hear the captain without him having to scream if he had more orders to give. 

It didn't take long before the results of the first scan of the system appeared on Morag's display, telling him that the system had four planets, none that showed any signs of advanced lifeforms with the capability of space travel during the preliminary investigation. 

This didn't mean that there wasn't an as-of-yet undiscovered species living on one of the planets, but the composition of the planets indicated that either there was no budding civilization or they had evolved to live on a desert planet as the other three were gas giants. 

"No signs of any mass relay in the system yet," said one of the officers. "We haven't been able to confirm if there is one on the other side of the system, but we don't think that there is one. The usual readings didn't show up. It could be in a nearby system, but to confirm our hypothesis, we would need to deploy our more powerful scanning equipment to check how far away the systems are." 

"Permission granted," replied Morag, eager to get things done. The more accurate data they would get from the equipment would be a blessing when they returned, and he had to report his findings to the STG committee that was in charge of overseeing this mission. 

"How did the drive hold up?" he asked when a Salarian wearing a closed lab coat stepped next to him. 

"It held up well. A little bit overheated, but that was expected after the long time we kept it running. Nothing outside the security parameters" answered Doctor Selky, his eyes shining gleefully. 

"It did take too long," murmured Morag disdainfully.

"The travel time was within expectations," countered Dr. Selky without missing, his enthusiasm not diminishing at Morag's comment. 

"From what I know, the humans can do it in a quarter or a fifth of the time." 

"And they have at least a decade more than us in experience with this kind of engine," the doctor chided. "You can't expect us to be on the same level, especially without their help. And since command doesn't want the humans to know that we managed to replicate their unique form of space travel, it will take some time before our DR-drives can compete with theirs." 

Knowing that the doctor's words were correct, Morag pressed his lips together, stopping his thoughts about the situation from being verbalized. Instead, he let out a sigh and nodded his acceptance. 

"Furthermore," continued Dr. Selky, "look out the window! We are the first Salarians, maybe even the first lifeforms, that visited this system. If that isn't enough to get your mood up, then I don't know what will." Quieter, but still loud enough that Morag was able to hear it. "And to think that the humans enjoyed this privilege for decades already. I'm quite jealous." 

Morag had a hard time not making any snide remarks or rolling his eyes. Yes, the humans were impressive, he heard it often enough out of the doctor's mouth who couldn't stop praising them for their invention. Besides, he could admit it, after all, he knew how much effort his fellow STG members put into the project and how often they hit a roadblock during their research. Nothing to say about the failures that happened. 

There was still an enormous hole on Sur'Kesh where an STG base had been. 

Yet, he also knew enough about humans, that he knew that they descended from a primates, an animal that still existed on their homeworld. An animal that liked to throw feces at each other. 

There was a reason why STG members called humans shit-flingers while off duty. 

"Captain, we have a tentative connection with the nearest STG relay," reported the communications officer, a young Salarian who had joined the STG only a few months ago. 

"Wonderful," said Morag, clapping his hands, "is it encrypted?" 

"No, sir," the young Salarian replied. "The connection is barely enough for a data transmission. We neither have video nor audio, and I don't think a real-time conversation is possible." 

"I thought we dropped some relay beacons while in transmission? They should stop this problem from happening in the first place. Are they inactive?" 

"Well, that's the problem, sir. There are no relay beacons. None at all." 

Morag looked at the young communication officer stumped, thinking about what to do now. After a few seconds, he ordered: "Then send a text message that we safely arrived in the system and that we will continue with our mission parameters as discussed. Data will be transferred after our return or when we have an encrypted channel. Use the standard STG code." 

The young Salarian nodded, showing that he understood his order, and hurried away to fulfill them. 

"Hmm," hummed Dr. Selky. 

"You have a theory," stated Morag, not even bothering to ask him to share it. The doctor would do so on his own without any prompting. Something that was at times useful, at others, absolutely maddening. 

"We deployed the relay beacons while we were inside the Dimensional Rift. I think that they are still inside, or drifted so far off our path that they could be all over the galaxy. Perhaps one STG listening post got suddenly a better signal than before." 

"If that are your two predominating theories, I sincerely hope it is the former. Should one of those beacons be found somewhere where it shouldn't be, then it could cause a diplomatic incident." 

"Well, we will probably never know," said Dr. Selky and ended the topic decisively with an uncaring shrug. "We should concentrate on our mission and return home when we are done. I need to confer with my colleagues about the data I collected during transit. Our version of the DR-drive should see massive improvements in the coming year, and if I'm not mistaken, we will level with the humans in the next three." 

"That is something I like to hear," answered Captain Morag with a smile on his face, the first since he accepted the mission.

It wouldn't take long, and the Salarian Union would be, once again, the galactic civilization that stood at the top of technological advancement. Developing their own version of the DR-drive was just the beginning. 

In Morag's mind, a new age had just begun for the Salarian people.