Shadows of Humanity

Disclaimer:

Mass Effect is owned by BioWare


Chapter II - The Politics of Intrigue

It was cold, a frozen wasteland spanning before him, nothing but ice covering the endless expanse. His suit's HUD registered an ambient temperature nearing that of negative 110 degrees, internal heaters working overtime to prevent him from freezing and power supplies rapidly draining. Already his visors' exteriors had begun to frost over, much like the powered armor itself, slowly blotting out his already limited vision. With the enshrouding darkness, what little light reaching the planet scattered by the storm overhead, navigating the area proved practically impossible. The blizzard's winds howled in the night, raining hail and sleet from clouds above, relentless and cruel. He thought they would die there, him and the dozen others from the wreckage, as bodies in the snow.

The drive core had failed, no one knew why, the ship subsequently torn asunder. Emergency engines and safety protocols had enabled it to enact a controlled crash dive, pulled in by the adjacent planet's heavy gravity. How long since they'd landed he could not say, though their chances of survival were virtually nil at best. Communications had been ripped from the superstructure, their vessel further splitting up as it broke atmosphere, the hull to weakened to handle the strain. Nothing but the bridge remained, its reactor inoperative. They were marooned, alone, trapped on this arctic world. The pilot would have lasted longest, two days at most, having just recently charged. Din did not envy him.

They walked for hours, the group and he, perhaps out of hope, desperation maybe, a chance to live. They were afraid, they did not want to die. Fear drove them where rationality failed. In hindsight, Korlack was glad that they did.

It was the onboard doctor, Rita he recalled, who originally spotted it breaking over the horizon. A spire, dull grey and splashed with white, speared into the heavens, a bright beacon flashing yellow at its culmination. Relief washed over him, a warmth far greater than any sun's. Onwards they marched, rushing towards their newfound goal.

The structure was large, its width comparable to that of a cruiser's length, form resting upon twin peaks of ashen stone, blanketed by the flurry. Two towers rose from each point, plain and somber, that to the right the taller of the two. More glows could be seen, lamps and lanterns illuminating the dim edifice, unveiling greater details. Domes, nodes, outcrops and antennas doted the building, an amalgamation of glass, plastic and steel cobbled together into a sole design, pragmatic and efficient. Windows, rare as they were, rested far beyond the ground in sweeping arcs which looped about their keeps' circumferences, no doubt making for an unobstructed view of the landscape from the interiors. What appeared to be a landing pad sat gently atop the lowest habitat, lamps pulsing in unison, a deep blue. A single bridge connected the mountains on which the haven settled to the ones Din and his companions traveled.

It was there, but a few brief footfalls away from salvation, that the volus met them for the first time.

The being to their front was tall, thick silver-brown linens enveloping its figure, fluttering wildly in the breeze. Various pockets, pouches and sacks clung to its chest, a variety of differing shapes and sizes, as ample boots adorned its feet. Armored strips peeked through the open jacket, straps weaving their way across in an 'x' hewed fashion, iron buckle at the center. A heavy pack hung from the sentient's back, a set of dual pipes and cylindrical canisters protruding from within. An additional tube emerged from the tucked apparatus, slithering unto the shoulder and up underneath the rugged hood, trace edges of some breathing mask visible from the gloom that concealed the face. A solitary yellow eye gleamed in the shadows.

Two items stood gripped among the creature's gloved limbs, of five digits and a thumb, rusted brown microcomputer sheathed onto its rightmost forearm. In the first was a leash, a lesser kind of a varen collared to its end, wrapped in fur and with far less teeth. In the second, and more alarmingly nonetheless, was a gun, long, thin and with a mirror sharp blade slotted to the barrel's muzzle, a scope fixed to its roof.

For a period neither parties deigned to move, unsure of the other's intentions. To the volus, the person before them could have been almost any of the known council races, given how their counterpart looked at a glance, the general anatomy hinting at turian, salarian or asari as among the most likely. Such a conclusion, however, then begged the question: What were they doing on an uncharted planet? To said opposite observer…

"Who are you?" It vociferously spoke, tone grating and artificial, audibly fighting against the surrounding gale's roar.

Korlack's interpreter spat out gibberish into his headset, a mishmash of undeciphered sounds and syllables. When a diagnostics check and quick repeat of the recorded speech yielded the same results, for both he and his allies, their previous notions on the situation turned moot. Either all of their translators weren't suitably functioning, or the one ahead of them wasn't speaking a recognized Citadel archived language. And seeing how unlikely one of the two were compared to the next…

The outsider reached an extremity beneath their coat, searching and rummaging for something within. Hidden from sight, Din's fist subtly tightened about the hilt of a salvaged pistol, wary of any sudden moves. His suspicions, fortunately, proved unfounded when said foreigner drew, not a weapon, but a curious beige colored trunk, its shell's outline small enough to fit in their appendage's palm. Struggling with the animal's tether and newly added object in hand, the stranger proceeded to awkwardly tap away at their processor's screen, fingers sliding this way and that in a rapid manner.

"I knew I should have installed the voice command." Went an unheard mumble.

Given how stiff the alien's movements were rendered due to the protective gear, not to mention the cumbersome annoyance of all the separate materials also being carried while doing so, all pretense of its watching the volus was dropped. Should Korlack, or any of his armed kin for that matter, have desired to attempt in killing the mysterious entity, they could have easily done so. Truth be told, with the past day's mixture of despair, elation, mistrust, and now frustration, the tension which had permeated the air till then had morphed into one of acute absurdity.

An abrupt, high pitched chirp made itself realized despite the encompassing gusts' wails, aforementioned box emitting a fluorescent orange hue. It opened, pieces unfolding from the base framework, extending as they did. A cubic camera expanded from the top, blinking red. Circular thrusters unfurled to the sides, minimized tetra rotors providing the required lift for the drone to hover, two extra fans attached to its flanks facilitating mobility. A retractable claw, hanging from the bottom, completed the assembly.

The machine floated in Korlack's direction, struggling versus the buffeting tempest and halting approximately arm's length from his front. A translucent ray swept along his entire suit, a bio-scan indicated his helmet's readout, dyed similarly to the rest of the contraption's sensors. The guard, for he was certain that was the anonymous character's role, held its wrist up to its orb, presumably evaluating the robot's analysis. It appeared to give pause, raising its head in their bearing, staring, before going back to its previous activity. Din anxiously glimpsed at his batteries' reserves; twenty percent. He could not stay here much longer.

Finally, outset mode reverted flying servant retrieved, the rifle in the watchman's grasp shifted. It stepped aside, pointing to the overpass the volus had first seen. If that wasn't proof of invitation, Korlack wouldn't know what was.

Hurriedly they advanced, double file and six in row, lone escort following closely behind.


"Ambassador Korlack." She greeted.

"Councilor, councilors." The volus responded.

Tevos spread an arm towards one of the room's many plush divans, offering it to her guest. She and her colleagues, likewise, sat in similar furnishings opposite to the diplomat, with Sparatus to her left and Valern her right. The chamber's atmosphere was strained, the huddle of four silent for a moment, the only disturbance the noise of cycling air and drumming fingers. The meeting was private, away from the public eye. Its subject, while not deemed inherently dangerous, still too sensitive a matter for popular release just yet.

"Before we begin," Started the asari matriarch, steeped hands weaved loosely together as elbows rested upon her knees, "I would like to tell you that this hearing is unofficial and that, should the ensuing discourse prove enlightening enough to this group," she broadly gestured to her confederates, "no additional sessions will be required, at least until the next convened gathering of the Citadel's associate races. The information you divulge here is strictly voluntary; whatever you provide inadmissible in a court of law. I will warn you, however, that the Hierarchy, via Councilor Sparatus, has chosen to pay an especially great deal of attention to its outcome, so it is in my honest opinion that you be as open as possible. Does this seem fair to you?" She finished.

"It is." Din simply replied.

"Very well then." Tevos spoke. Holographic displays arose at each individuals' sides, images emitted by carefully concealed projectors and text scrolling across them. "The reason for this conference is to ascertain whether or not the Vol Protectorate both knowingly, and deliberately, hid the existence of a hereof undiscovered sentient species to the rest of the galaxy, as has been forbidden by Citadel Conventions since the end of the Rachni Wars, as well as engaged in active trade with said race during a currently unknown span of time. Do you, or the government you represent, deny these allegations?" The councilors gazed at their diminutive companion.

"No." Was the ambassador's rebuttal. Tevos exchanged protracted glances with her cohorts.

"Why?" Went Sparatus, his inquiry outpacing her own. She let it slide, aware of the Turian Hierarchy's present eagerness for answers. Considering their role as the volus' statutory overlord and, more importantly, galactic peacekeepers, she understood how the ramifications of such a secret could affect them.

"The Protectorate decided that, afterwards having accidentally encountered this race, the terms proposed and outlined amid its premier negotiations were too lucrative an opportunity to refuse, and hence decided to confidentially treat with them." Korlack said.

"And is this the basis as to why you and your administration wantonly failed to inform the Hierarchy, the Council, and, as we've theorized, the majority of your own population?" Sparatus questioned.

"Not initially, no." Answered the volus. "Of all of the species' provisions, the claim to which they were absolutely unwilling to compromise was the caveat that their identity endure hidden from the galaxy at large. That is the excuse for why we did not notify anyone of their presence."

"And you felt that this decision was yours alone to make? Did this race ever care to explain the rationale for its requested anonymity?" The turian challenged, trace slivers of ire leaking in his enunciation, though doing well to maintain his objectivity and calm. Tevos admired the councilor's, albeit finite, restraint, despite his less remarkable traits.

"Likely fear, a desire for security through obscurity." Intervened Valern, pitch black and amphibian like eyes facing his military counterpart. "It is not uncommon for younger civilizations to dread others they may meet, an occurrence which becomes more pronounced when they are technologically inferior to said those it could encounter. Perhaps they are xenophobic, though it is more likely due to mere inherent caution. Nothing fundamentally harmful."

"Then you'll forgive my skepticism about an entire species wanting to hide from the galaxy's dominant preeminent power," He turned towards Korlack, mandibles twitching, "by, instead, staying in contact with said power's very own economic architects."

Tevos reasserted herself into the conversation, steering it back less adversarial routes, asking, "And is Councilor Valern's suggestion what the Protectorate believes ambassador?"

Din's head lightly bobbed up and down as he replied, "It was what both I and the legal team who interacted with their regime determined at the time, a perspective that, so far, persists unchanged. They have rigorously adhered to our mutual contract's stipulations and have dutifully upheld their end of the bargain, something which the Protectorate greatly appreciates. Though they remain wary of all outside contact, I regard this is as an attitude born more out of concern than genuine alarm. I would advise refraining from labeling them as xenophobes, as they can be quite pleasant once you get to know them, and so should not be bunched in in with the category of species including the Vorcha or Yahg."

"And what were the contents of this treaty you continue to reference?" Again asked Sparatus, not yet willing to kowtow on the issue.

"Due to the nature of extensive secrecy under which the accord was produced, I'm afraid that I cannot independently sanction the reveal or transferal of any such material at this time, even if it would be the most preferable of all available options. For a copy of the document in question I would need at least a day before it could be provided to you, pending approval of the volus leadership." Spoke Korlack, cool and professional despite the turian's verbal pressuring. "However," He resumed, "it is in my capacity to tell you that, besides violating Citadel conventions, the arrangement was originally written to fully comply with the Unified Banking Act, and has undergone consistent revision and update since its implementation." He concluded.

"An interesting feature. I assume it was the Vol Protectorate who handled the bulk of the treaty's composition?" Asked Valern.

"That is correct," Din answered, going on, "although it must be stated that it was this race's wish to follow the act's guidelines as closely as possible, while also striving to incorporate it within their own fiscal system."

"And why is that?" She queried, intrigued, and pleased, at how ostensibly willing these newcomers were open to negotiation.

"Because they knew they would eventually be found." Spoke Valern, Omni-tool in hand and palming it in focus. "Are you familiar with how your government's dealings were uncovered ambassador?" The salarian added.

"No, I do not." Was the volus' response.

Valern brushed two fingers along his personal computer's surface in the path of the suite's shared screen, an extensive electronic document popping up. The infamous seal of the Salarian Union's Special Task Group stood starkly printed near the record's upper edge.

"Approximately one galactic standard year ago, the STG began an investigation on the precipitous escalation of the Vol Protectorate's purchases of element zero, as well as its related refining equipment, in substantial quantities from primarily asari suppliers. This trend transpired despite the fact that such prodigious amounts did not correspondingly reflect the as of then numerical increase of volus naval projects and warehouse stockpiles, a discrepancy exasperated by the resource's procuration having grown redundantly larger and larger over the past half-decade." The salarian stated. "These findings were passed onto the Hierarchy upon the discovery that much of the volus cache was being regularly exported outside of council space, never to be seen again. With no solid clues to serve as leads to where the transporting vessels' destinations were, the only pointers left were the ships' manifests. These files, indeed, repeatedly registered the freighters' returns as laden with varying precious metals, typically platinum, and manufactured goods, merchandise that was often subsequently sold off at discount prices. This pattern of identical and untraceable payments was judged to hint at the prospect of a single, illegal buyer, conceivably Omega." He explain.

"Are you accusing the Protectorate of unlawfully supplying the Terminus Systems?" Asked Korlack, tone none too pleased.

Again Tevos adopted her role of mediator, redirecting the discussion towards the, admittedly captivating, crux of the dialogue. Although previously conscious of its results, she hadn't been versed on the case's proceedings themselves. "If you would please stay on topic Valern, I would be grateful." She declared.

"My apologies." Replied the salarian, looking to her as he went on with his commentary. "It was at this point that the Hierarchy launched a formal inquiry into the matter, a six month review which yielded in the Protectorate's handing over of several extensive series of bank and company logs, all pertinent to the acquiring of said element zero."

"And?" Tevos prodded.

"These transcripts were diagnosed to be fakes." Dropped Valern, voice flat, clarifying. "Deeper scrutiny and analysis of the disclosed papers exposed that many of the aforementioned institutions were shell consortiums innately influenced by the Vol government, with all registries and reports carefully crafted forgeries devised to mimic accepted trade actions. In actuality, these served as but a portion to an immense covert operation created to protect the reality that it was conducting business and colluding with an unacknowledged authority, right down to the construction and accoutrement of empty work buildings."

"And soon thereafter the Protectorate began obtaining military grade weaponry and equipment" Sparatus picked up, intentionally stressing the words, "which it denied holding despite mounting evidence to the contrary, a circumstance aggravated by the blatant breaching of the mandatory transparency clauses within the alliance charter between it and the Hierarchy."

"And how does this all tie into this new race?" She questioned, perplexed. "Barring the ambassador's confession and your discernment of an unnamed party, neither of you have yet to provide proof of the volus' contacts being that of an altogether separate species."

"In spite of the undeniable truth that the Vol Protectorate was clearly involved in some sort of cover-up, none of its doings could technically be marked as crimes. Since the implicated firms held no monetary ties to the general populace, and their shares and bonds retained solely by the state, they were therefore not liable for prosecution under the UBA even if such types of contracts were otherwise prohibited. Meanwhile, the lack of any links to backwards deals with Omega, the Terminus Systems or alternative illegitimate organizations disallowed for pursuit under Citadel laws." Explained Valern.

"The Hierarchy thus, in conjunction with the Union, assembled a special detail to quietly tag and track the fleet of cargo tankers most frequently used for the clandestine shipments, an endeavor that, it too, took the better part of some twenty six weeks." Progressed Sparatus.

"Why did it take the task force so long to accomplish this?" Tevos wondered.

"The Protectorate was extremely cautious in its approach to the enterprise's stealth, assigning trusted employees and instructing its captains to never travel in groups or navigate predefined routes. Instead, the commanders took their trips exclusively unaccompanied and constantly cycled pathways, recurrently executing random mass effect jumps so as to better scramble their tracks. The added reality that these ventures always took place in unexplored space meant that detector buoys had to be strategically seeded in order to narrow down the number of plausible objectives, chiefly due to the absence of prebuilt intelligence infrastructure standard to colonized systems." Recounted the salarian, relaying his partner. "Eventually, however, enough data was amassed to limit the search to an exhaustive four light year diameter region, located but a few days travel from Irune. The twelve separate star systems positioned inside the area were then individual explored until one arctic planet was observed to possess non-natural facilities of unknown make and model, at which time targeted broadcasts were received and examined by the scouting craft, confirming our hypothesis."

"Did the crew responsible for the discovery communicate with whomever dwelled on the surface?" The matriarch quizzed, "They didn't engage in official first contact without asari presence did they?"

"No Tevos, they did not." Punctuated Valern. "The only exchange between them and the world's inhabitants were arithmetic centric friend or foe identifications, with no lingual or visual interplay whatsoever. No other interactions followed."

"And the ship, is it still there?" She asked.

"It awaits in geostationary orbit above the planet. The only movement detected since its arrival was an incoming volus freighter that evacuated the system upon the ground based station messaging it; which brings us to the Hierarchy's main concern since this investigation's conclusion." Sparatus' carapace layered face swiveled in Din's direction. "What is their name, and are they a threat."

Korlack, who'd remained silent as he listened to the two councilors describe in detail the methods through which his, his bureau's, and their ally's plan had been dissected, piece by piece, answered. "They are called humans, and we don't know."

Tevos blinked. "You don't know?" She implored, frankly surprised.

"Would you care to expand on that statement?" Pushed Valern, Sparatus' brow knitting itself into the trademarked turian equivalent of a frown.

"Although the Vol Protectorate has been in contact with the Sol Directorate, humanity's prevailing government institution, for the better part of the past decade, our understanding and knowledge of their kind is, ironically, profoundly modest. While various samples of biology, history, media and culture were provided not long after first contact, these were mainly token excerpts from their collective works gifted in the name of diplomacy." Said the dignitary.

"And what of the armaments imparted? Surely you don't expect this Council to believe that the volus wouldn't have an inkling as to this race's combative capabilities?" Came Sparatus' rumbled growl. Tevos' reproachful stare did little to calm him.

"Simply investing in arms and armor is not indicative of how the seller fights. As previously cited, both me and my government's insight on the human's background is deeply restricted. On a purely informational wise scale, much more was donated then received. The provision of military equipment, as you've so duly pointed out, is probably the most valuable aspect of the bargain on a technological spectrum." Korlack explained.

"And there were no reservations about this? No worries of misjudgment or confusion? The lack of clarity seems rather lopsided, does it not?" Tevos express, somewhat bewildered. Caution she could grasp, but this leaned far closer to paranoia. The humans were beginning to sound further like the supposed Collectors' cosmic cousins than anything else.

"Their settlements were very generous." The volus candidly responded.

"Exceedingly so I'd imagine," Sparatus grunted in remark.

"Then you bear only the sparsest of understandings of their people, one significant enough to properly educate us on the most judicious style of approach in respects to them, but not beyond, correct?" Deduced Valern.

"That is as I would see it, yes." Answered Korlack.

A sensation of qualm encased the lounge.


Word Count: 3,749


Author's Notes:

Not much to say, honestly.