SPOILER ALERT: This massive, lore-heavy chapter explains the fate of some key characters from the Milky Way and why aliens from the Milky Way will be appearing in Japan in the following chapters.
The platform didn't allow me to publish the full chapter plus the two OMAKES I had prepared, as I exceeded the word limit, hehe. Therefore, I will be publishing this chapter in several parts, which I will number as chapters 10.1, 10.2, and 10.3. Please keep an eye on the numberingso you don't get lost as you follow this chapter's beginning and progression. As for the actual Chapter 11, where I will continue with the main plot, I will publish it in early March. Anyway, even though this update is mostly dialogue and history, I hope you enjoy it.
By the way, If you prefer to keep the mystery for now, you can skip this chapters and read it after the next updates of the main plot.
Best regards.
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Narration Clarifications: Words placed in brackets like {Hello}... mean that a character is using a word in a language other than their own, or is speaking a word in their native tongue that is not understood by those listening or is not their native language
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Chapter 10.1
DLC: The Last Hope (1/3)
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The universe… or rather, the universes… have a strange obsession with patterns. Names, historical facts, concepts of good and evil...
That is why in every galactic war, in every crisis involving multiple worlds, in every moment when darkness threatens to engulf the existence of sentient beings, as the cosmos tries to balance chaos and order, the universe will always seek a Commander. Someone who looks into the abyss and doesn't blink. Someone who rallies those willing to fight and gives them a common purpose. It's not just a title; it is a primordial function: a "canon event," as some would say…
In the story I have been telling you…
In another universe, on Earth-2, that someone was a human who called himself Zuku-Shepard.
But in the Milky Way of Earth-1, where humanity and the Solar System were born in Andromeda, the cards were dealt differently. Therefore, this universe sought a substitute. A substitute born from another impossibility.
On Earth-2, if someone were told what I am about to reveal, any individual of any race would have said such a possibility was nothing more than madness, a dream of disturbed minds. Nevertheless, in this universe, that impossibility came to pass: the Quarians would replace the human species as the pillar of defense for the Milky Way, which they named [Tië Milyë].
Like humanity, they became a pillar of accelerated technological growth and possessed an immense hunger to colonize worlds.
But how did they achieve such a thing?
You see…
In this universe, dark matter is so ridiculously abundant that it distorts the fundamental laws of physics, thermodynamics, and genetics. Among the most notable effects of this cosmic saturation is the manifestation of Quirks. On Earth-2, by contrast, dark matter never reached a concentration high enough to intimately bind with the genetic code of organic beings. Thus, the powers that emerged there remained at a basic level, limited to abilities that did not completely alter the fabric of reality. For that reason, their wielders never developed what is known in this universe as the Quirk Factor.
This factor is nothing more than a segment of the genome completely rewritten by dark matter and imbued with cosmic energy: a fragment of energy-charged DNA capable of altering reality, indissolubly linked to the mind and will of the user. This connection allows desires (conscious or even subconscious) to shape and/or enhance emerging abilities, whether they manifest as characteristic traits of a specific species, wild projections of the imagination, or echoes of deepest longings.
Some species adapt better to dark matter, developing extraordinary physical attributes such as millennial lifespans, wall-shattering strength, or the collective manifestation of two or more Quirks. A prime example is the Asari, who, in addition to an average lifespan of 1,000 years, possess three integrated Quirks without any backlash: mind fusion, biotics, and the [Space Succubus] quirk. This Kosei renders them attractive to other species and allows them to transmit their partner's Quirk factor to their offspring, with the specific biological drawback that their 'hybrid' daughters lose the biotics Quirk.
On the other hand, some species only develop a single type of Quirk collectively; for instance, certain humanoid amphibians in the Milky Way whose abilities are limited to rapid movement or accelerated thinking. Meanwhile, other species have the capacity to express only one Quirk per individual, but the species in turn can possess a vast range of Kosei due to their genetic diversity and their unusually expansive and complex imagination and desires; for example, humanity.
Understanding this...
One hundred years after the first war with the Geth, following their exile from their homeworld, the Quarians began to manifest supernatural powers they called Curu.
And these Curu would be very different from those of the other species dominating the galaxy. The Quarians' obsession with improving their immune systems, perfecting their environmental suits, optimizing their technology, and their fanaticism for engineering and robotics caused the Curu Factor to produce supernatural abilities specifically related to those themes.
Suddenly, a century after being driven from Rannoch, Quarians began to be born capable of molding steel with their bare hands. Capable of integrating technology into their bodies as if they were perfect cyborgs. Capable of creating armor out of thin air, producing nanobots, building robots with a single thought, or dominating machines as if they were extensions of their own will.
These Curu were not only the reason why Quarian life expectancy grew to rival that of an Elcor; they were also the reason why, a century after the awakening of the Curu era (and 100 years before the Reapers returned), an alliance was forged following a war that nearly destroyed both Geth and Quarians.
An alliance that changed the term "Geth" from meaning "servant" to "brother, son, or ancestor." It eliminated the need for the Pilgrimage. It created the Quar'eth Empire. And it propelled both species to become the defensive pillar of Tië Milyë.
And from this bastion of defense, in this dimension, the universe would choose its commanders: Rael'Zorah vas Rannoch and Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch.
The first, a decorated soldier and leader of one of the finest Quar'eth frigates. He was both a soldier and an engineer who, upon hearing the first reports from Arfannor Prime (a fleet of unknown ships sowing destruction), he knew had to step forward to protect his people.
Soon after, Rael would discover that the Arfannor conflict was provoked by the Geth faction that had opposed the alliance proposed by his father, Nimro'Zorah, 110 years prior. They were the Heretics. A Geth faction that had rejected the Alliance, fled into dark space, and waited for generations to prove that organics and synthetics could not coexist.
Rael took firm command of his prestigious ship, the frigate Forodrim, and faced the nightmare. With the help of the most important Geth representative, Hoth (which translated from the Quarian tongue means horde, multitude, or Legion), Rael fought the Heretics and discovered they were not acting alone. Behind them, manipulating their processes, their fears, and their hatred, was Saren Arterius….who, in turn, had been dominated by a creature older and more terrible than any nightmare:
Sovereign.
The Reaper who didn't hibernate in dark space, but waited for 50,000 years in some corner of the Milky Way to call his brethren when the time was right for the new harvest.
To face these threats, Rael...after coming into contact with a Prothean beacon, forged alliances with members of the species that had once condemned his people to ostracism. Although, unlike another commander in another universe, he would not encounter mostly the same people. Perhaps because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or perhaps because the fact that Tali's pilgrimage never happened changed their destinies in ways even the wisest could not predict.
In any case, Rael negotiated, persuaded, and threatened when necessary. He assembled a heterogeneous team of Quarians, Geth, and aliens, including:
His daughter, Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch: Engineer and Lieutenant Commander.
His ninth half-sister, Daro'Xen vas Rannoch: Head of Research and Development. *1
Hoth, also Known as Legion: First General of the Quar'eth Empire and the most prominent Geth leader.
A Drell named Thane Krios: Infiltration and Assassination specialist.
A Salarian named Padok Wiks: Chief Medical Officer.
A Turian named Tiran Kandros: Explosives expert.
A Krogan named Nakmor Drack: Destruction expert.
An Asari named Liara T'Soni: Expert in ruins and the mind.
Once the team was assembled, the battles that followed were vast and difficult, filled with biotic powers and other Curu that the protagonist of this story would have loved to see…
And then, when the decisive moment came, as Sovereign descended upon the Citadel to open the way for his brothers, Rael'Zorah was there to stop him. His entire crew and the ships of the Quar'eth Empire stood ready to face the threat to save the leaders of the Citadel Council.
Leaders who, despite everything the Quarians and Geth did for them… still didn't grant them a seat on the Council. They only allowed certain distinguished Quarians the freedom to roam the Citadel but didn't even give them the status of the Volus or Elcor. And, of course, they continued to ban the friendly Geth from entering the Citadel, arguing they could become "Heretics" at any moment.
They continued to treat the Quarians as exiles. And they continued to fear their synthetic-soul brothers.
But the Reapers don't forget. And they don't wait for diplomatic disputes.
Two years later, as Rael'Zorah was returning from a reconnaissance mission at the edge of space, a Collector fleet emerged from the void. Creatures created from an entire species, harvested and reconfigured into an extension of the Reapers' will.
The Forodrim SR1 fought with the ferocity of a cornered animal. Its cannons sang, its shields held, and its captain remained on the bridge until the end, rescuing everyone he could, including his daughter, Tali.
The explosion that followed when the enemy ship's devastating laser beam struck the Forodrim SR1 one last time lit up space for three seconds...
When the glow faded, nothing remained. Only dust. Only silence. Only a daughter who watched what happened through an escape pod, held by her friend, Liara.
And in that moment, the universe again sought its commander…
Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch, after drying her tears, took on the responsibility of finding those Collectors and preventing them from abducting more Quarians. Legion, just as he had with her father, became her second-in-command.
Over the following months, Legion transferred his synthetic consciousness into a Geth Destroyer shell to become more efficient in combat, and the Forodrim SR2 was constructed.
When the new ship was ready, Tali and her crew led the hunt against the Collectors...
...asking for help in the process…
But the Citadel Council responded with their usual indifference:
"There is no conclusive evidence"
"Your people's reports are... biased"
"We cannot authorize the deployment of forces based on unverified testimony"
"And we certainly cannot authorize the deployment of forces where robots with dangerous AI roam freely"
It didn't matter that the Quarians and Geth were, objectively, the most technologically advanced species in the galaxy. It didn't matter that their ships were faster, their weapons more precise. It didn't matter that Quarians and Geth had saved the Citadel.
The Council looked at them and saw only creators of soulless machines. They saw heretics who dared to merge flesh and metal. They saw an uncomfortable mirror of their own fears.
And, in secret, they envied the Quarians. Because the Quarians, by adopting a culture of replacing limbs or organs with implants born from their Curus, had become perfect techno-organic beings. Meanwhile, their Geth brothers had become synthetic beings with fully evolved AI created through those same Curus, which prevented the Reapers from influencing their minds. Unfortunately, their Curus were not powerful enough to control Reapers; since, like the Quarians, the Reapers were also techno-organic beings, failing to meet the Curu's rule that only purely synthetic beings could be controlled.
It was for these reasons they were able to prevent the Citadel's destruction…
However, the leaders of that galactic government envied a species that achieved the impossible: a peaceful coexistence with self-aware robots whose existence had propelled them to advance technologically in record time, surpassing the Council in just 200 years.
But the fear of the unknown and envy of Quarian technology continued to grow among these leaders...
...Because shortly after Tali'Zorah's first request for aid, during a tracking mission investigating the ruins of a city destroyed by the Collectors on Arfannor Prime, one of Legion's scanners made a discovery that would change the galaxy's understanding.
Buried under layers of mineral sediment, protected by a bunker filled with stasis systems still functioning after 50,000 years, they found a pod.
And inside, a being that no logic should allow to exist.
Javik. The last Prothean.
Awakening him was an act of faith and desperation.
When he opened his four eyes for the first time in millennia, he didn't find an army of warriors ready for vengeance, but a Quarian, a Geth, an Asari, and the echo of an empire that no longer existed.
Liara T'Soni, who had dedicated her life to the study of the Protheans, expected to find in Javik the confirmation of everything she had dreamed: ancestral wisdom, lost knowledge, the key to understanding the gods of the past. What she found was a bitter soldier. A being consumed by hatred and a thirst for revenge. A witness to a repeating cycle who, despite his power, couldn't prevent the fall of his own species.
Liara's disappointment was profound, almost existential. She spent days without speaking to anyone, processing the gulf between myth and reality.
On the other hand, Tali and Legion made a difficult choice: keep Javik a secret from the general public. However, they showed their records to the Council, hoping a living Prothean would be enough to spur them into action.
The Councilors saw him. They heard him. And then, with a coldness that made the blood run cold, they decided to hide it as well:
"Mass panic would be unmanageable"
"We are not prepared for this revelation"
"Continue your mission. We will... consider the matter"
They considered nothing. They locked the information in sealed files and continued as if nothing had changed. Javik, upon learning this, showed no surprise. "I heard the politicians of my cycle were just as stupid," was all he said.
Nonetheless, despite how difficult his presence was, Javik proved invaluable. He knew the Collectors. He knew how they thought, how they operated, where they hid. With his guidance, Tali's team located the main base in the Omega 4 Relay. They found a way in and embarked on a journey that seemed like a one-way trip...
With Legion and his comrades by her side, and the support of the fleet of the "Illusive Quarian" Han'Gerrel behind her, Tali'Zorah crossed the Omega 4 Relay and stormed the Collector base.
Against all odds, she got all her friends out alive...
...And for a moment, she felt happy for winning the battle without a single casualty…
But that moment died months later upon discovering that the true war was inevitable.
In the Batarian system of Bahak, she discovered the Reapers had a backup plan to reach the Milky Way quickly.
She tried to prevent their arrival by destroying the system's Mass Relay. With its destruction, the entire system and 300,000 Batarian souls vanished in the blink of an eye.
Afterward, the Citadel Council accused her of war crimes. But Tali'Zorah answered them with a single sentence:
"Would you prefer those 300,000 were the first of 100 billion?"
There was no answer. But there was also no plan to prevent what was coming.
If the Reapers had no fast way to reach the galaxy, they would do it slowly. In a few months or years, the machine gods would arrive sooner or later.
And despite this latent existential threat, the Citadel Councilors chose to turn a deaf ear once again, to prevent collective fear from spreading.
Idiots.
It doesn't matter the universe or the timeline… they will always be incompetent politicians.
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"So... are you going to continue doing nothing, ignoring the problem just as the Councilors have?"
The voice of Daro'Xen vas Rannoch, Admiral of the Quar'eth Empire's Research and Development corps and acting Head of Engineering for the Forodrim, cut through the conference room air like a frozen scalpel. Her voice wasn't loud or especially authoritative. It was worse: it was the voice of someone who is absolutely right and has stopped asking for permission.
"Or will you finally put your useless hands to work?"
Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch, Commander of the ship they currently occupied, finished the sentence from the other end of the table. Her tone was less sharp than her aunt's, but heavy with a disappointment that weighed more than any shout.
As the gathered leaders looked at them, many couldn't hide their brief shock or bewilderment. The two Quarians before them were... beautiful. Not in the conventional sense understood by Citadel species, but with a quality that blended organic and synthetic aesthetics almost perfectly. Their spherical eyes seemed to glow with their own light, moving with sharp intelligence behind their lashes. Their hair (pink and curly for Daro'Xen, black and straight for Tali) fell over the pointed membranes of their foreheads, over their "elven ears," and down their shoulders like liquid silk, partially covered by ornamental Quarian hijabs. Their pale white skin was traced by dermal lines that pulsed with a faint violet glow in Daro'Xen and blue in Tali. These were not tattoos or surface implants, but the mark of their awakened Curu, which since the age of four had replaced traditional Quarian markings with these techno-organic circuits.
Yes, They wore no suits. Quarians no longer needed them. For over a century, bio-engineering breakthroughs had fortified their immune systems beyond any known threat. Nanite implants regulated their immunity, and bio-synthetic lungs filtered every pathogen or toxin. The old diseases that once condemned them to exile were now museum relics.
Daro'Xen and Tali'Zorah were living proof of this: Quarians breathing the same air as everyone else in the room. And that fact, for many, was as disturbing as the presence of Javik or General Legion, a Destroyer-class Geth whose imposing silhouette remained motionless between the two women.
Facing them, the leaders of the galaxy's most powerful species shifted uncomfortably. Primarch Fedorian, his facial plates tense with suppressed fury. The current ruler of Thessia, Irissa, whose millennial composure was beginning to crack. Dalatrass Linron, whose slender fingers nervously drummed an erratic pattern on the table.
Beside them were figures who had never before held a seat at a war table: a Volus in a black suit with ornate green details; an Elcor with brown skin and slow, deliberate movements; a Hanar with tentacles draped over his chair; a yellow-beaked Raloi with black feathers and golden eyes watching the Turian coldly; a Vorcha in elegant clothing and glasses, with eyes full of wisdom; and finally, a massive red-scaled Krogan whose reptilian gaze toward the Dalatrass was filled with smoldering rage.
Three months had passed since Tali'Zorah made the hardest decision of her life. The destruction of the Batarian Mass Relay had been a necessary massacre. Hundreds of thousands of souls extinguished in an instant to save billions who didn't yet know they were doomed.
The entire system had burned, and with it, the Reapers' immediate arrival had been averted.
But once Daro'Xen and Tali reminded the room of the current situation through holographic recordings, everyone reached the same conclusion: it wouldn't stop them. The Reapers were somewhere in the dark space adjacent to the Milky Way, and since they could travel at FTL speeds without rest, it was calculated they would arrive in six months at minimum, and two years at most.
In the meantime, the leaders who had been informed of the matter had desperately searched for an answer. Some spoke of unifying fleets to intercept them; others of evacuating colonies to hide in remote systems; others of fortifying worlds into impregnable bunkers. Some even spoke of building a weapon of mass destruction unlike any before, despite the fact that they didn't have the slightest idea how to create it.
Everyone looked for a weapon, a weakness, a countermeasure... but no one had found a definitive solution. As of yet, no one had discovered a secret weapon waiting in the encrypted archives of an extinct race. All the proposed measures were things Javik had already seen fail in his own cycle
So, for now, there was only them. Their ships. Their Curu. And the growing certainty that the galaxy faced a harvest it couldn't stop.
It was during these three months that Daro'Xen had an idea. She proposed to Tali revealing Javik's existence to a select few, and then the Quarians began to speak: not in public or in Council sessions where hidden agendas paralyzed decision, but in private. With those who could still listen.
They approached Fedorian at the Citadel docks, just weeks after the Geth and Quarians intercepted a Batarian fleet planning a retaliatory strike against Turian delegations. The Primarch remembered the weight of that debt, and though his pride forbade him from acknowledging it openly, he listened.
They met Irissa in the hanging gardens of Thessia's capital. Amidst flowers that bloomed only once a century, the Quarians introduced her to Javik. After the Prothean allowed the Asari to use one of her Curu on him-[Mind Meld]- Irissa witnessed worlds besieged and civilizations reduced to ash. The Asari Matriarch, used to measuring her words for nearly a millennium, found none after seeing those memories.
With Linron, it was different. The Dalatrass didn't need emotional speeches; she needed data. And Daro'Xen provided it: reports on the systems that, according to Javik's analysis and Legion's calculations, would be the first to fall. Linron studied them in silence for an hour before saying: "Continue."
The minor Council members were approached with different strategies:
-Zymandis, the Hanar war hero turned politician, was summoned to a private chamber. When Javik entered, the Hanar's tentacles trembled with a devotion Protheans would never have tolerated. But for first time Javik remained silent, letting Zymandis believe what he needed to believe.
-Calyn, the Elcor who designed half of Dekkuna's underground structures, was shown blueprints. Blueprints for ships with life-support systems meant to last six hundred years. Calyn took three seconds to process the information (an eternity for his race) before saying with his characteristic slow but firm tone: "Enthusiastic approval: This is more important than any building I have ever constructed."
Din Korlack, the Volus magnate, was spoken to in the only language he understood: investment. "If the Reapers win, your credits are worthless. But if this plan allows our civilization to recover, you will be remembered as the volus who funded the future." Korlack invested before Daro'Xen could even finish her sentence.
The cases of the ambassadors located on Rannoch, from the Vorcha and Raloi civilizations, are extraordinary situations that would once again seem like a joke to the people of Earth-2:
In the case of the Raloi, their species had experienced a traumatic first contact with the Turians seventy years ago: the first space telescope of their lineage made contact with a Turian war cruiser on the edge of their star system. Subsequently, the Turians attempted to conquer Turvess in a first contact war that didn't last long, as the Raloi system was dangerously close to Rannoch. Consequently, the Quar'eth Empire learned of the matter, intervened, mediated peace, and for decades shared technology, culture, and resources with the Raloi, helping them ascend the galactic scale without losing their identity. Thus, Ambassador Fum'Kage didn't only trust Commander Tali'Zorah and her people; he owed her the freedom of his folk. When Tali called, he came without hesitation.*2
The case of the Vorcha ambassador, Shisketak, is even more extraordinary and would deserve entire chapters of historical encyclopedias. His species, considered for millennia a plague without possible redemption, found in the Quarians and Geth something no one else had offered them: the opportunity to be something more. Through techno-organic spinal and cerebral implants that tripled their life expectancy, improved their intelligence, and mitigated their most aggressive impulses, plus decades of collaboration, Heshtok transformed from a living hell full of "demons" distributed in fragmented clans into a living hell full of thinking "ogres" and unified clans with a growing thirst for knowledge. In just 90 years, 65% of the population of Heshtok transformed into a civilized culture. Shisketak was one of the first Vorcha to receive higher education on Rannoch; he studied the sciences of space displacement engineering as best as he could, receiving classes from Daro'Xen on some occasions when she was still an academic. Subsequently, Shisketak acquired a taste for Juridical Sciences and would end up being his species' ambassador on Rannoch. So, when Daro'Xen called him, he brought with him the proof that even the most despised can, with time and respect, reclaim a place among the elite.
And finally, there was Urdnot Wrex.
Neither Daro, Tali, nor Legion knew him personally. No one from the Quar'eth fleet knew him. But when the Quarians asked Nakmor Drack if there was a Krogan leader capable of unifying the clans… or at least a few of them in a civilized manner, the old mercenary let out a dry laugh and replied: "One. Only one. And he's fed up with politicians, false promises, and wars he can't win."
Finding him required a trip to Tuchanka. Convincing him, a single conversation.
It was not the presence of the Prothean, or Tali's talk about a mass extinction event that was approaching unassailably, what convinced him to attend the meeting. It was the other information that Daro'Xen carried with her: a Salarian scientist named Mordin Solus had contacted Padok Wiks to ask for help. Mordin, tormented by his role in the modification and update of the genophage, had discovered that his former student Maelon had been conducting experiments on Krogan females. Some of them, against all odds, had survived and recovered their fertility. Then, when the Salarian high command learned of the matter, the survivors of the experiments were taken to be confined in secret laboratories on Sur'Kesh.
Mordin would be later contacted on the Omega base by Dalatrass Linron, who would ask him to participate in new experiments to further improve the genophage. But instead of supporting the cause, one week after meeting a Krogan named "Bakara," he knew he could not continue with that; he desired to free her and the other females. And he desired to eliminate the genophage once and for all. But he needed support, he needed protection, he needed someone with authority to back the extraction operation before they were eliminated for being considered a political threat.
When Daro'Xen put that information on the table, accompanied by Tali, Javik, Drack, and Legion, Wrex understood.
He didn't need more evidence about the end of the world approaching. For him, it was enough to know that there were fertile females, that a Salarian wanted to free them, and that someone with power was willing to help him in exchange for nothing more than his presence at a meeting.
And that was how, three months after the destruction of the Batarian Relay, the most powerful species in the galaxy met in the war room of the frigate Forodrim, in front of Quarians without suits, a Prothean without an empire, an evolved Geth, and a Krogan who had just discovered that the future of his species could be in the hands of those he least expected.
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After having spoken in that tone full of disappointment, Tali'Zorah continued, her words falling like knives upon the square steel table that reflected the faces (or visors) of the gathered leaders. What she and her aunt were about to propose to the three numbskulls present, she knew would shake them to their very foundations.
"Now that we have reminded you how your councilors systematically ignored our warnings for two years...", Tali'Zorah enunciated while her fingers tapped the table with airs of superiority ,"...how they denied us resources that could have prevented hundreds of thousands of deaths, and how they have managed, with their exquisite combination of arrogance and negligence, to lead us into what seems to be a dead end...", The black-haired woman paused. Her luminous eyes scanned the faces of the Asari, Turian, and Salarian leaders. "...I wonder, what do you think of the irony?"
"Irony?". Having heard the previous words in yet another mocking tone, Primarch Fedorian tightened his claws against the edge of the table as he responded.
"The irony that the species you have so despised: those you considered weak, annoying, or dangerous, are the ones taking the initiative that will bring a bit of hope to the disaster your councilors worsened...", Tali'Zorah leaned forward slightly. "The Reapers cannot control us or our brothers, the Geth. We are immune to indoctrination, and that allowed us to save the skin of your galactic government on more than one occasion. On the other hand, the Krogan saved your skins from the Rachni. The Hanar resolved the matter that so bothered you regarding the Drell. The Volus set in motion an economic system born from the ashes of another which you could never keep stable. The Elcor have been the laborers for generations on structures that your frail physical strengths didn't allow you to build."
Her voice hardened.
"And despite all that past help, here you are, showing the same attitude as the councilors, full of airs of superiority, when in reality... you're not the pillar that rules this galaxy."
A murmur ran through the room. Fedorian opened his mouth to respond, but another voice spoke first.
"You know? It's interesting."
Javik spoke while placing his chin between the index finger and thumb of one of his hands, his four eyes fixed on an indeterminate point on the ceiling. The room fell silent instantly. The last Prothean hadn't opened his mouth throughout the meeting, and his mere presence (that weight of fifty thousand years of defeat) was enough to make everyone go quiet.
"In my cycle, the species that fused with their synthetic organisms, the Zha'til, betrayed us. Having been hacked by the Reapers, they attacked my people's colonies, forcing us to destroy them. We believed that all artificial intelligence was doomed to repeat that pattern ," His eyes settled on Legion, Daro'Xen, and the black-haired woman a second later. "However, you are an exception... it's something I didn't imagine possible. If you had existed in my time, perhaps the Prothean contingency plans would have been carried out correctly..."
He said nothing more. It was not necessary.
Daro, Legion, and Tali barely nodded, acknowledging the weight of those words, and then Tali turned toward Matriarch Irissa.
"Don't you find it ironic? The machines you swore would destroy us have helped us save your skins. And you, the 'superior' organics: the Turians with the 'most powerful' fleet, the heiresses of the wisdom of the 'goddess' of Thessia, and the supposed 'best' scientists in the galaxy, have spent half an hour in this room without contributing a single viable solution."
She then pointed with a gesture to the other representatives.
"At least some of those present, when the Admiral and I spoke to them about what we are about to tell you, admitted they should have trusted us more. And they contributed their grain of sand. But you have only been fighting with the others since you arrived here, like a bunch of spoiled children."
Her voice took on a sharp, almost mocking tone.
"I remind you of your words at the start of this meeting: What is a Vorcha doing here? He's just going to attack and spit on us. / The Raloi are still too young a species to participate in such important sessions. / That Krogan should be confined to Tuchanka; did anyone check if he was carrying radiation residue?"
Irissa maintained her composure, but something in her blue eyes broke slightly: "Commander, we understand your frustration, but..."
"Frustration?", Tali'Zorah laughed with a dry, bitter sound. "No, Matriarch. I'm not frustrated. Like many of those present, I'm fed up with how you continue to treat us. And how you continue to watch us."
She gestured abruptly to her right, where the Geth remained motionless, his optical sensors fixed on an indeterminate point in space. His massive chassis, bulkier than standard combat units, had Quarian runes engraved on the left shoulder.
"My brother {Hoth} has been in this room for 30 minutes. Half an hour without moving and without speaking. And yet, the three of you have looked toward him at least three times. Each of you has adjusted your posture to keep him in your field of vision. Each of you...", her gaze settled specifically on Dalatrass Linron,"...has subconsciously verified that your personal shields are still active."
The Dalatrass didn't respond. Her slender fingers stopped drumming.
"You can't help it, can you?". The black-haired woman tilted her head. "Three centuries of propaganda aren't easily forgotten. But at least I can understand that, given that, thanks to {Rao}, unlike other races that resorted to the creation of AI to accelerate their scientific advances, we Quarians were very lucky to develop {Curu} that allowed us to understand and perfect our brothers..."
Her voice acquired an even sharper edge.
"But meanwhile, you continue to despise the Volus. You have used them solely as bankers, as suppliers, as the invisible infrastructure that keeps your economies running. You continue to condemn the Krogan to exile. You only look at the Hanar and the Drell out of the corner of your eye, without much attention. You only consider the Elcor as mere bricklayers or petty merchants. And not to mention the Raloi and the Vorcha, who like us, don't even have an embassy on the Citadel... How many Volus, Elcor, and Hanar have served on the Council? And how many of them have been invited to transcendental meetings before today?"
The Volus representative moved a gloved hand to the back of his helmet, a nervous gesture that didn't go unnoticed. He was the first of his species in two centuries to participate in a war command session.
Calyn, the brown Elcor, activated his vocal synthesizer, translating his complex pheromones, infrasound, and postures into slow but firm words: "With deep gratitude for finally being recognized: We Elcor have contributed with our strength and stability for centuries. Rarely has our opinion been asked."
Beside him, a bulbous and gelatinous figure, his tentacles hugging the seat as if fearing him might float away, could barely contain his excitement. The Hanar ambassador made his bioluminescence flash on and off in erratic patterns that his translator could barely process:
"This one is happy", said Zymandis's translator, with the characteristic Hanar way of speaking. "This one considers this meeting transcendental for our history. This one feels honored to be in the presence of one of our gods."
Upon hearing this, Javik looked at him like someone observing a child saying something extraordinarily silly, but the Hanar continued, his emotion palpable even through the mechanical translation:
"Our ancestors would be..."
"Later...", Javik cut him off, without bitterness but with a firmness that chilled the air. "Now isn't the time for you to remember your primitive ancestors."
The Hanar fell silent instantly, his tentacles retracting slightly.
Javik then turned his four eyes toward the Raloi:
"And you, control that sentient avatar. It bothers me how close it has come to me."
The Raloi ambassador, Fum'Kage, bowed his head in a sign that in his culture meant respect mixed with shame. From his back, a black energy silhouette resembling another kind of bird (an avatar that seemed to be made of pure shadow) had been floating around the room, observing each of those present with an almost childlike curiosity, stopping especially at the Prothean.
"Step back, Dark-Shadow!", ordered Fum'Kage in his strange accent, which recalled a parrot speaking... with excessive melodrama. "Return to the abyss!"
With that, with a faint humming sound emitted from somewhere within its incorporeal form, the black energy avatar disappeared, folding back toward the Raloi's back like a cloak that suddenly remembered its place.
"The Prothean is right, Commander...", Fedorian intervened, picking up the thread with evident effort. "With all respect... have you brought us here to recriminate the acts of our species or to find a way to save our civilizations?"
"For both, Primarch", Tali'Zorah didn't hesitate for an instant. "Because if we don't learn from our mistakes, if we don't acknowledge them, if we don't achieve peace among ourselves, and if we don't improve as a society by respecting the worth each of us has... nothing we do next will make sense. You can't continue denying that the past does not matter."
A heavy silence settled in the room.
It was Dalatrass Linron who broke it, her voice sharp as a splinter stabbing into wood:
"Well, what is this? Some kind of self-indulgence speech? Did you gather the leaders of the most powerful species in the galaxy to mock us while the Reapers approach to destroy everything we know?"
"No, Dalatrass", Now it was Daro'Xen who took the floor. She looked at her with a calm that was more intimidating than any of Tali's complaints. "We brought you here to offer you a way out."
Immediately after, the pink-haired woman activated a hologram from her omni-tool, and then six scale structures appeared floating above the table. The first, the largest, vaguely recalled the Citadel... if the Citadel had been imagined as an O'Neill Cylinder in the shape of a gigantic honeycomb. The other five were ships of a design that blended Quarian and Geth architecture: elongated bodies segmented like mechanical scorpions. Prows ending in insectoid heads. Hexagonal wings folded over their flanks like colossal stabilizers. No windows. No unnecessary corridors. No concessions to aesthetics that were not pure survival.
"The {Elenandor} Project," Daro'Xen explained calmly. "Five ships capable of transporting fifty thousand organic specimens each, in cryogenics, plus 10,000 Geth watching over them, for six hundred years. One more ship; or rather, a galactic control and living center like the Citadel, capable of housing three million souls in cryogenics and 200,000 of my brothers. Destination: the {Aglarband} Cluster, in the {Elenandor} galaxy."
With that said, almost as if they had reached an agreement, from Legion's great synthetic eye, another hologram was released, which this time showed images of 8 planets orbiting unknown star systems. Two of them were in the same system, sharing a highly strange orbit.
"We have also located 8 planets with great potential to be habitable for organic travelers. They have the potential to be the first colonies that the Pioneers would establish in {Elenandor}." the massive Geth continued explaining, his voice having the characteristic electronic tone of a synthetic race.
"Magnificent! They are prototype ships capable of traveling to another galaxy in a very short time! But, wait... how did you solve the problem of static energy accumulation in the mass effect cores?". The Vorcha ambassador was the next to speak, and his question, formulated with an intelligence that few expected from his species, left several in the room bewildered…especially the Salarian Dalatrass, whose eyes nearly popped out of their sockets for a moment.
Daro'Xen sketched a smile behind the veil of satisfaction that was imprinted on her expression after hearing her former student.
"An excellent question, Ambassador. And the answer is simpler than our critics imagined," The pink-haired woman activated another command on her omni-tool. "Static energy accumulation is managed through an experimental system we have called ODSY, which stands for Drive..."
"Admiral... Commander... {Elenandor}? Are you serious?", Fedorian interrupted the scientific fanaticism chatter before it was too late, bringing the conversation back to the main point. "This plan... is what I think it is, right?", He leaned forward, his eyes scanning the images of the Arks and the planets with a mixture of fascination and horror that he didn't try to hide. His voice nearly became a whisper. "Are you suggesting that... we flee?"
The Quarians didn't respond. The question hung in the air, heavy as a funeral slab.
This remained so until the pink-haired woman shook her head: "Not entirely. This idea occurred to me as a contingency plan, not just as a mere escape. Since we are eventually going to face the Reapers in a direct confrontation, a question emerged in my mind: Will we truly manage to be the first to defeat them when they have harvested civilizations for a billion years and have always won?"
The silence stretched for an instant in which Tali felt a lump in her throat. For a moment she wanted to open her mouth and tell everyone present that the plan her aunt had devised would not be necessary, that there was still hope, that they could fight and win if all the fleets united. The words formed in her mind, clear as crystal, ready to be launched as a challenge to defeat: but they didn't come out.
Tali, after all, was not Izuku. In the depths of her being, a part of Tali knew that despite unification, they could lose.
She had seen the Reapers in person. She had felt the weight of their presence, the coldness of their gazes, the absolute certainty that for them, organics were nothing more than a harvest waiting to be gathered. She had seen how their cannons erased entire ships from the map, how their laser beams split moons, how even the most powerful Curu could only wound them, but not destroy them completely.
Even if all the fleets united, even if every ship, every soldier, every Curu coordinated into a single battle force... that presentiment, cold and cruel, whispered to her that it would not be enough.
So Tali swallowed hard and kept her mouth closed.
The silence became an increasingly sharp knife as it dragged on.
A knife that was stopped for a short interval when, from the end of the table, a voice with a distorted tone resonated with the authority of one who has seen empires die.
"An accurate analysis," Javik said, his four eyes fixed on a point somewhere between the void and eternity. "Even us, the Protheans. Capable of copying any {Curu} of the evolved species we added to our empire. Bearers of technologies that to you would be indistinguishable from magic. And with an empire that spanned almost the entire galaxy..."
He paused, and when he continued, his voice hardened.
"We lost."
Another silence stretched out. Even heavier.
"Nonetheless," Javik added, and for the first time something like disdain appeared in his tone, "it still seems to me a mediocre resolution."
Daro'Xen looked at him, one eyebrow slightly arched.
"Mediocre?"
"To flee isn't to victory. To flee is to postpone defeat. But..." Javik shifted his gaze toward the images of the Arks, "But sometimes, postponing defeat is the only thing those with no hope of victory can do."
The silence stretched again. No one could find words to disagree with him.
Except one...
Daro'Xen was about to complain, the words burning in her throat (more offended that he called her constructs' blueprints mediocre indirectly than by the mention of being called cowards), but a firm hand settled on her shoulder. Legion held her with the softness of one who knows the strength of his own sister, preventing the emotions from overflowing.
Then, the Geth looked at Tali. She had not said a word, but her eyelids tightened slightly over her luminous eyes in an expression of frustration barely perceptible to organic beings. A micro-expression that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else in the room. But Legion was not organic. His synthetic eye captured that gesture, analyzed it, and processed it. And in less than two seconds he understood what it meant: Tali wanted to respond, she wanted to defend hope, but a part of her knew Javik was right. That contradiction was consuming her from within. Legion knew then that he had to find the words his sister could not utter.
"You are wrong," said the Geth, his electronic voice breaking the silence with a calm that chilled the blood. "Fleeing: a strategic withdrawal, is also another way in which victory can manifest. Regroup. Grow in number. Unify. And when the forces that were cultivated surpass those of the enemy, attack when it is least expected."
Javik looked at him with his four eyes, a spark of something like interest igniting his expression.
"How can you be sure that the travelers of the future will not decide to return to {Tië Milyë} when they find the answer to defeat the Reapers?" Legion continued. "Of course... if we don't happen to find it first."
The Prothean opened his mouth to respond. To argue. To remind that synthetic creature that he had seen the end of his own species, that he knew better than anyone what absolute defeat meant.
But the words did not come.
Because deep down (in that remote place of his being where he could still be surprised and hold a little hope), Javik recognized that this robot had just expressed a truth that even he had not considered.
"There is... a certain wisdom in that," Javik finally admitted, his voice lower than before. "And ironically... it comes from a machine." A pause. Then, a tiny smile appeared at the corner of his lip, barely perceptible. "At least, something has changed in this cycle."
Legion tilted his chassis slightly, a gesture that in Geth culture meant recognition without submission.
"We evolve, Prothean. Everyone does, Or perish."
Javik, upon hearing that, brought a hand to his chin, lost in a reflection that his four eyes betrayed as unusually deep. But when his lips parted to formulate a response, another voice spoke first, breaking into the conversation with the force of one accustomed to giving orders rather than receiving them.
"The rob... General {Hoth} is right about something," the Primarch corrected himself mid-sentence, aware of how inappropriate it would be to call him 'Robot' in his territory and in the presence of two high-ranking Quarians. "We must unify the fleets. And attack them before they manage to organize."
"Most likely, that will not be enough, Primarch. And you know it."
Daro'Xen shook her head, a tired gesture that betrayed how many times she had already had that conversation.
On the other hand, Tali bit her lip upon hearing her, feeling that helplessness grow within her soul once again. But Daro'Xen, unlike her niece, was a realist; she believed more in calculations and numbers than in emotions or hopes born from unproven facts.
"Javik has seen it. {Hoth} has calculated it. All the Geth have calculated it. I have felt it in the metal of my own ship." The pink-haired woman paused, making sure every word found its mark. "The Reapers aren't an enemy that can be defeated with more ships or more soldiers. They are a cycle. And we are, very likely, the civilizations to be harvested in this turn."
"So we are just supposed to flee?", Dalatrass Linron arched an eyebrow, her voice steeped in a contempt she didn't bother to hide. "Crawl away with our tails between our legs while they devour our worlds?"
"Good grief..."
The pink-haired woman exhaled a sigh that seemed to weigh as much as a warship. She massaged her temple with two fingers, as if trying to relieve a headache that had been brewing for years. When she spoke again, her tone was that of someone who has explained the same thing so many times that not even frustration remained.
"No. No. And no. That isn't what I am suggesting." The pink-haired woman straightened her back and activated the central hologram, where figures began to dance in red and blue. "What I propose is that, for at least 3,500,000 souls of our species...," the number fell like a slab upon the table ,"...we have a B Plan. A life insurance policy for our civilizations. Because if unification fails….and it will fail, unless we find a miraculous countermeasure...," her voice softened, just for an instant. "...at least our children, our brothers, our grandchildren, our cousins, our friends... will have a chance."
"And why should we trust your... insurance policy? Or in general, in Quar'eth empire?" asked the Dalatrass, her fingers drumming a nervous pattern on the table. "How do we know you will truly carry members of our species in those arks of yours, instead of using our resources to place more Quarians and Geth? And regarding this... how do you plan to handle the fact that people might become dissidents, or go mad, for fleeing the Reapers?"
Daro'Xen held back a sigh. Her luminous lines pulsed with a more intense violet tone while Legion's left hand now touched Tali's shoulder, trying to prevent her from jumping over the table to strangle the Salarian; a possibility that passed through the calculations in his head, noticing her furrowed brows and her fists almost bleeding from the grip she was applying against her nails.
"Oh, for cosmo's sake... {Tiral Azhana} head...", The pink-haired woman murmured something in her native tongue before responding aloud. "First of all: if your trust is so flimsy, once the first stage is reached, you may send whichever Salarian engineers you deem necessary to verify that the construction processes meet the specifications we would promise... But let me remind you that the ones who have failed here are you, not us. The Geth and the Quarians have done almost the impossible to save this galaxy."
The pink-haired woman paused, recomposing herself. Her way of mediating these types of matters prevented her niece from committing regicide today... or something close to it.
"Second: it surprises me how good you are at reading numbers and how terrible you are with social sciences. We intend to have the arks manufactured in a maximum of 6 months, and with luck, in that time, the Reapers will not have invaded our worlds yet. Therefore, during this time, we will carry out invitations to certain key groups with information contained in private channels, thus recruiting 'Pioneers' who decide to travel to the most distant 'Exploration and Colonization Mission' ever conceived. Once we have the cryogenic modules ready, they will be placed in a 600-year sleep without even knowing the true reason why they are traveling to {Elenandor}. Obviously, 91.5% of those traveling in these arks will not be informed about the Reapers. Only my Geth brothers will know of the matter, and they will communicate it when there are colonies stable enough socially, economically, and politically so they can make a correct decision about what to do with that information."
With that said, the black-haired woman could no longer remain silent. Tali tilted her head, her luminous eyes fixed on the Dalatrass.
"Do you still take us for idiots, for traitorous nomads, in that head of yours?"
The silence that followed was of a different quality. It was no longer hostility; it was discomfort.
Fedorian broke it five blinks later.
"Well, Commander. Admiral. If we bother you so much, and you are so efficient with the help of the Geth... what do you need us for? Do you want our blessings? Or applause?"
Hearing him, Tali's incredulous expression combined with a movement of her mouth that could well have been read as {bosh'tet}. Once again, her aunt taking the floor plus the pressure of Legion's hand on her shoulder prevented her from very likely strangling another ruler today.
"...Another {Tiral Azhana} head...", Daro'Xen whispered, almost imperceptibly, before raising her voice. "To be honest, if we didn't need you, we wouldn't have even revealed this to you. But unfortunately, even with the combined economic support of the Hanar, Volus, Vorcha, Elcor, and Raloi along with our empire, in 6 months, we could only build the Nexus."
She activated the hologram again, pointing to the six structures.
"The Nexus, plus five arks. As I said, that is what I planned. The Nexus will carry a balanced amount of all our organic races plus the Geth necessary to care for those in cryogenics. Then there will be an ark for Quarians and Geth. Another three for your species: Turians, Asari, Salarians... and a fifth, designed specifically for Volus, Elcor, Hanar, Krogan, Drell, Vorcha, Raloi... and Batarians... who don't follow the stupidity of their government... or who don't hate us to death."
The pink-haired woman leaned back slightly, looking for a moment out of the corner of her eye at her niece, whose expression turned from anger to guilt after she indirectly reminded her of what she had to do to postpone the end of the world.
"So, evidently, I expect resources. I expect financing. I expect you to contribute to the construction of the Nexus and those 5 arks. In that way, we will not only guarantee the survival of a greater number of our species, but we will also have more allies if, in the future, the need arises to fight for the recolonization of {Tië Milyë}."
Having finished that sentence, the Vorcha ambassador emitted a sound that in his species was equivalent to a grin from ear to ear, his fangs showing in what was clearly an expression of pride. The Raloi next to him ruffled his feathers in a gesture of satisfaction as his energy shadow emerged from his back, nodded its head, and subsequently disappeared.
The Hanar began to glow with an intensity that made several present squint; his tentacles waved in what his translator interpreted as "uncontainable glee." The Volus, Din Korlack, allowed himself an unusually expressive gesture: he clapped slowly, three times, with his gloved hands. The Elcor, Calyn, bowed his enormous body in a movement that, to those familiar with his species, was equivalent to a smile of deep satisfaction.
Wrex, however, didn't show joy. He showed surprise. His red eyes widened slightly as he processed the implications of Daro'Xen's words.
She intended, at the very least, to transport two hundred thousand Krogan. Perhaps more. The Nexus and that last ark were designed to include his species, and if the genophage was resolved, if Mordin kept his promise, then the existence of the Krogan would not end on Tuchanka. It would continue beyond the stars of Tië Milyë.
But before he could savor that thought, the Dalatrass spoke.
"And why on cosmos would we invest in arks for so many species?", she interrupted, her voice sharp as breaking glass. "If the war is lost, taking everyone is a waste of resources. You should prioritize the most important races... and especially, avoid the Batarians, the Vorcha, and the Krogan. The latter will surely grow giant or shoot fire at the first thing they don't like. And the Vorcha... bah, they would still be a plague, as always!"
Hearing those words full of disdain, behind his lenses, the Vorcha ambassador fixed deep blue eyes while rising from his seat with the rigidity of someone containing his fury. He was about to explain how the Quarians and the Geth, in secret, for decades, had transformed the civilization of his homeworld: Heshtok. How they had taught his people not only to survive, but to build. How they had shared technology, knowledge, and respect, without demanding anything in return, hiding everything for fear that the Council would misinterpret their intentions and accuse them of enslaving an "inferior" species or imposing their will on the destiny of an entire people. He was going to say that the "bad reputation" the Dalatrass invoked so lightly was precisely the reason why the Quarians had preferred to help in silence rather than give the Council another excuse to distrust them.
But before he could utter a word, Wrex also stood up, with an almost physical rage manifesting through his pair of red eyes, leaving the Vorcha's near-tantrum as an insignificant act.
Less than a second later, the Krogan's body expanded.
His muscles swelled under his armor, his bone structure reconfiguring to support the increase in mass. The armor, designed for cases like this, expanded with him, until his head almost brushed the ceiling of the room. At that moment, one of his fingers (a finger that was now the size of a Turian's leg) pointed directly at the Dalatrass, and then he could no longer remain silent.
"Funny those words coming from a shitty old hag whose species owes its existence to my race, just like that other idiot's!". He bellowed, his voice echoing like a thousand suns collapsing in unison while, out of the corner of his left eye, he directed part of his attention to the Turian Primarch, whose skin turned visibly paler. "Without the Krogan, the Turians, the Salarians, and even the Asari would have become the Rachni's appetizer!"
Immediately after, the Dalatrass moved instinctively...
...Though no one in the room (except perhaps Javik and Legion) could follow her movement. A blink, and she was standing against the back wall, her trembling fingers pointing at Wrex at supersalarian speed, her hand a blur because of that fact.
"D-Do you see what I'm telling you?," her voice, though shaky, maintained a thread of triumph. "T-They are a species that cannot be trusted! A single accurate comment they don't like, and everything always ends in violence!"
With that said, the metal next to Tali'Zorah and Daro'Xen began to flow.
Legion didn't move, not at first. But his chassis... and every metallic structure, every cable that composed him, transformed. The metal liquefied for an instant, reconfiguring, growing, expanding until almost matching the Krogan's bulk. His combat systems awakened with a low hum that made the glasses on the table vibrate.
Then, before a cannon finished materializing on his shoulder, Legion spoke. His electronic voice, calm but firm, cut through the tension like a scalpel:
"Please, Mr. Wrex, calm down. Or I will be forced to use non-lethal force. 5 million volts will be discharged toward you. Enough to paralyze a Krogan in an incomplete gigantification for several minutes."
Hearing this, Wrex narrowed his eyes. His red scales gleamed under the room's light. A fierce smile drew across his jaw.
"Try it, machine. That'll just be a tickle."
At that moment, Tali's fingers brushed her arc pistol, preparing for the worst; unfortunately, sometimes she was better at fighting than she was at talking. But before the conflict could escalate further, Daro'Xen took the opportunity to intervene.
"Mr. Wrex...", the pink-haired woman enunciated with a calm that extracted every gram of diplomacy she harbored within. "Please. A bit of serenity. I was already about to take care of teaching the Dalatrass a lesson... Do you remember what commander Tali and I promised you regarding certain people?" As she spoke, she reached her hand toward him, an open gesture, inviting him to sit.
Wrex, after hearing her words, slightly reduced his size, though he didn't return to his usual 3.5 meters in height. And he didn't sit down either.
A breath later, Legion's metal flowed back to its original form as if nothing had happened. The cannon dematerialized, the hum of his combat systems died down, and his body slowly returned to his usual size of 3.3 meters in height...
Daro'Xen then turned toward the Dalatrass, and her voice froze.
"Listen, lady. And listen very well", Her gaze also swept over Fedorian and Irissa, who had remained contemplative all this time. "The participation of the Krogan and the Vorcha is vital for this project. We must plan the defense of our worlds when the Reapers arrive, and allocate almost all our primary armaments, soldiers, and resources to protecting them. Therefore, we do not have enough personnel…neither Quarians, nor Geth, nor self-construction systems, to build the arks without help."
She pointed to Wrex, without looking away from the Dalatrass.
"In general, Krogan are capable of using {Curu} related to Force or Fire, so they are vital for achieving construction on time. And furthermore, like the Vorcha, they can inhabit toxic planets or extremely hostile environments, which makes them key pieces for the colonization of {Elenandor}."
Immediately after, Tali could no longer remain silent, so she interrupted her aunt. She said the following in a raw tone: "Not to mention that the Krogan deserve to be given at least one decent planet, after how much you have used them without giving them anything in return"
Wrex, though still standing, finally decreased his size upon hearing that last part, back to his usual three and a half meters. But his angry red eyes were still fixed on the Dalatrass.
"No planet was given to them because they only knew how to expand without control and fight!". Fedorian replied.
"There's a reason the genophage maintained the peace," added the Dalatrass, regaining some composure. "We cannot allow..."
"It's good that you bring up that point, Linron."
Daro'Xen interrupted her with a smile that almost reached her pointed ear-like auditory membranes.
"Speaking of which... the other condition for your species to have an ark... of course, if you decide to support the cause... is that... well... you free the captive and fertile Krogan females you have on Sur'Kesh."
The silence was absolute. Almost all the eyes of the gathered ambassadors were fixed on the figure of the Dalatrass. Some looked with surprise, others with open condemnation.
"After all, how are we going to send Krogan to {Elenandor} when they cannot prosper with adequate reproduction numbers?"
The Dalatrass was struck dumb for an instant. Then, her sharp intellect processed the information at hyper-velocity. In that flash of thought, she was already calculating angles, anticipating betrayals, and designing countermeasures.
"Those are nothing more than accusations without proof! Fallacies!"
The conversation that followed was not very different from what occurred on Earth-2. They spoke of the cure for the genophage. They spoke of second chances. They spoke of whether the Krogan had truly learned from the mistakes of their past. There were arguments, complaints, outbursts of anger, and long silences loaded with distrust. But in the end, after hours of grueling debate, those 3 ambassadors gave in. The ark plan would be set in motion.
However, unlike the other two, Linron accepted outwardly with measured gestures and carefully chosen words. But inside, her mind formulated plans about sabotaging the genophage cure in the Milky Way and about placing Salarian spies on the Nexus and key arks: silent saboteurs who would also have the mission of ruining the plans to cure the genophage in Elenandor. Her contingency plan would be activated before any Krogan could celebrate it.
Wrex observed her in silence. He couldn't read her mind, no. But he had spent too many years surviving politicians, mercenaries, and traitors not to recognize a fake smile when he saw one. That old hag would not give up so easily. He would have to be cautious. Very cautious.
Shortly after, for an instant. For a brief breath. That part of him that was not the warrior, but the leader, let a thought cross his mind.
If there was no hope for Tuchanka. If there was no hope for any of the civilizations of Tië Milyë...
...Maybe... And just maybe... he should be the one to guide the Krogan toward a better future.
Far from the smoking ruins of his homeworld. Far from the prejudices of the species that had elevated and then condemned them.
Perhaps his last mission in his long life should be to guide them toward a strange, unknown galaxy, where they could build a new Tuchanka.
Free from the mistakes of the past.
-o-o-o-o
To be continued... continues immediately in the chapter numbered 10.2.
-o-o-o-o