The Citadel is the heart of most civilized space. A giant station, lurking in the Serpent Nebula, was not just a crossroads of trade routes and a center of politics, but a place where the fate of the galaxy was decided.
The unusual nebula itself, which is another line of defense and a product of the functioning of the colossal station, carefully guarded the treasure of bygone eras. Its tranquility lasted for centuries until the Asari discovered this mysterious place, which kept its secrets even millennia after its discovery.
It is to the daughters of Thessia that the Citadel owes its status as a center of science, culture, and power. The wisdom and diplomacy of the Asari laid the foundations two and a half millennia ago. And on this foundation, all of Citadel Space grew.
The pious followers of the Goddess brought a ray of hope to the bloody, strife-torn galaxy... At least, that's what the Asari themselves thought. And as for those who thought otherwise... what can you expect from savages?
So thought Advisor Tevos. A matron in her prime, for four centuries for the highborn was not even half a life, but rather the age of maturity, she was a faithful daughter of her homeworld. She was no longer a maiden who listened with her mouth open to the Council of Matriarchs, but she had enough brains to hear their wisdom.
Tevos made a dizzying career thanks to successful negotiations with the Turian Hierarchy. She not only captured the mood of her people but understood the hidden wish of the Council of Matriarchs, which was stated between the lines. Her oratorical gift and diplomatic art "helped" the Citadel Knights take the correct position during the Geth Uprising.
The Matriarchs recognized Tevos's merits, who managed to turn defeat into an elegant victory. Her achievements did not go unrewarded. Soon, the matron was offered to become the voice of her people: to take the post of advisor on the Citadel. She clung to the new position with both hands, remembering whom she owed her rise to. The advisor perfectly understood what was expected of her.
And she did not let her people down. Only maidens think that the galaxy is united. She, as a diplomat, saw through the veil of supposed unity. Everyone wanted to grab a piece for themselves, and only then – for their species, content with the fruits of the present. The newly minted advisor applied all the planning skills of a creature that lives for centuries, playing a long political game. Yielding here, one can win a hundredfold more in the future.
The matron could be proud of herself. She not only avenged offensive defeats for her homeland but also brought the galaxy to balance. Even if the latter was a pleasant bonus to her ambition. For the Asari, only Asari should matter. Their species will live forever, while others will crumble in their graves...
The advisor shook her head, returning to the present. "Where is the attaché? It's not in the Turian custom to be late," the matron thought, activating her omni-tool, custom-made for her hand by the "Council of Seris" consortium as a token of gratitude.
Opening her mail, she saw an unread letter in the correspondence sorted by her secretary, addressed to her personal mail from the attaché. Quickly scanning the lines, looking straight through the lace of words, she caught sight of an apology: the military advisor had been urgently recalled to Palaven.
"Apparently, the generals in the Primarch's retinue cannot agree on the figure of the new advisor. Each wants to put forward their protégé, but everything will be as their ruler says. Predictable," Tevos thought, leaving untouched the dishes with light meat snacks, generously sprinkled with spices, tough even in appearance. Not the most desirable food for a follower of the Goddess, but, unfortunately for the diplomat, Palaven's children love such things.
Attracting the waitress, a young girl of her race, with her gaze, she asked to remove the too-exotic dish and serve Thessian moonfish and light fruit wine with a mollusk appetizer. Since negotiations failed and nothing urgent was expected, why not enjoy the sublime cuisine of her home?
While waiting for her order, the matron glanced around the restaurant hall again, deciding to entertain herself with a light mental exercise. It was not in her habit to be idle when she could do something useful.
There were few visitors in the hall. A Batarian was loudly haggling with a Salarian, imposing an inflated price. His impudence and sense of superiority clashed with a machine-gun burst of arguments.
The former Hierarchy legionaries guarding the four-eyed man pretended that their patron's affairs did not concern them personally, chatting with a maiden waitress, keeping an eye on their charge out of the corner of their eye. The young Asari flirted with the mercenaries, clumsily asking for tips. Watching the girl force clarity of movement instead of natural fluidity, clumsily displaying her crests, the advisor grunted.
Everyone loves Asari, but they don't know why. And the secret is quite simple for the daughters of the Goddess themselves. From a young age, they understand why they were born - to guide the galaxy into the future for the good of their people. If a maiden draws attention with her body, and a matron impresses with her erudition, experience, and ability to conduct dialogue, then a matriarch simply points out their place to the sentient.
A Matriarch would not even come to a meeting with an attaché. They are above the hustle and bustle and, like no one else, value their time. The attaché himself would appear, thinking that the thought implanted in his head belonged exclusively to him.
Tevos could also implant what she and her people needed into the interlocutor's head if she deemed it necessary, but she admitted that she lacked the grace and connections, despite her position as an advisor. She was still far from the level of matriarchs. The Asari understood this well and her place in the matriarchs' plans, so she was not upset. Sooner or later, she would take her place among them.
Observing the young maiden, Tevos saw an intangible brand. This Asari had been written off from all calculations. Alas, even among the highborn, selection and weeding were necessary. And the Council of Matriarchs had the perfect tool for this - the Hegemony.
Their desires were no secret to the Goddess's daughters, which the matriarchs exploited, feeding the undesirable to the Batarians. After all, rejected maidens are naive. Such were sent to slaughter in distant colonies or raids. Once on the slave markets, they will serve their homeland and Goddess far more effectively...
The Asari felt an appraising gaze that didn't slide over her figure but pierced it like a blade. "Only Krogan can look at the daughters of Thessia like that," she thought ironically, turning towards the source of hatred.
A few tables away sat a Volus, looking ridiculous on a chair too high for him. Next to the venerable banker was his bodyguard—a native of Tuchanka, covered in scars and battle marks.
He was ancient—no longer a warlord, but still a formidable warrior. His armor had dulled with time, and his scars told stories of wars. This Krogan had seen the Uprising, and possibly participated in it. Too smart for death and too fierce to fall in battle. And this Krogan hated Asari. He knew who was truly to blame for the fall of his people...
Tevos merely glanced. This relic, having lived over a thousand years, deserved no more attention. Spent material, living only by the Goddess's mercy. He and his friends shouldn't have bitten the hand that fed them. Losers, just like the Quarians.
"It was only the Quarians we helped to fall, to the joyful applause of the galaxy," the councilor reminded herself. Everyone benefited from the failure of Rannoch.
The Republic, the Hierarchy, and even the Hegemony craved Quarian technology—and the Quarians themselves. They had forgotten the rules of galactic games in their arrogance! That's why the people of Thessia helped their AI rebel.
The councilor studied her predecessor's reports. An almost perfect combination—if it hadn't been executed so hastily. One oversight turned a valuable asset, an entire race, into galactic garbage. Dangerous garbage.
In her soul, she even sympathized with them—unlike the Krogan. But as a politician, she extracted benefits from their suffering for her people, turning defeat into victory. It was sad, of course, that an entire people lost their home, colonies, all means of livelihood, and were betrayed by recent allies.
The Hierarchy annexed several of their worlds, GOR gutted their data banks, the Volus confiscated their accounts, and the Batarians received first-class technician slaves. The Republic... received all of the above, eliminating a competitor that threatened to push it from the top.
It wasn't even fifteen minutes before the waitress brought their order. The freshest fish, lightly infused with the juice of tropical fruits and garnished with edible flowers, and opened mollusks with fruit slices. Minimal spices and heat treatment, maximum aesthetics. Simplicity and elegance—like everything the Asari created.
The matron poured fruit wine into a crystal glass and took a sip, washing away the taste of Turian spices from her tongue—coarse and straightforward, like their entire people. Refreshing her palate, Tevos chuckled, glancing at the view of Atrium Park opening from the restaurant window.
Any non-Asari would not have seen the essence of this place. Even if plants from Palaven grew here, tended by Salarian automation, the alleys were designed by Quarians, and built by Krogan with Volus money—the entire ensemble was woven into the Asari pattern and harmony. Like the entire galaxy. And so it would always be.
"We even defeated the Rachni!" Tevos thought, cutting into a moonfish. "But what I've learned over four centuries is that the galaxy loves to throw surprises. We'll just turn them to our advantage. I can't even imagine what could go wrong..."
"Hello, horse, I am Budyonny, young and excited..." I drawled, jumping off the running board of the all-terrain vehicle onto the Martian soil. And for good reason.
"Little Sergey. Thirty-four years old," Katya teased me perfunctorily, also in a pensive state, looking at the cleared ruins, the existence of which was now just the tip of the iceberg.
After our expedition launched, reconnaissance probes were sent to all planets in the Solar System. This happened five days ago, but it had already yielded incredibly awesome results.
It all started relatively innocently. During the exploration of Jupiter, specifically its famous red spot, an artificial structure was found. Found and found, who cares. We already know we're not alone in the universe, but scientists did a spectral analysis... it was over a billion years old, and it was still working!
The object resembled our space stations and hadn't fallen into the giant's atmosphere yet due to a gravitational anchor. Moreover, the station was working, pumping out matter from the planet, converting it, as the scientists understood, into fuel.
The smart ones figured it out, studying the factory's storage and productivity, comparing the system's logic, its output, and the date it was last activated and resumed operation. Since 1665, it had processed about one twenty-fifth of the Moon's mass—seemingly not much, but again, there's a "but"!
After the robots provided the data, the scientists calculated the processed mass. I won't beat around the bush—Jupiter was fourteen times heavier than it is today! And when you realize it was classified as a brown dwarf, meaning a small star...
Only it wasn't that simple! The main outflow of mass occurred a hundred thousand years ago! Someone drank eight-tenths of the planet's substance at once! And we wouldn't have known about it if not for sheer "luck." We were incredibly lucky because the installation surfaced only occasionally! If we had reached Jupiter later—we would have learned about this little detail only in 2675!
The produced substance was fuel not for ships, but served as nourishment for the installation, producing synthesis... drumroll... of that very substance, by the radiation of which we identified the infected! It was an extremely toxic thing that left parasitic radiation on everything if not shielded. Nanomachines didn't contain it directly (or contained only particles). Therefore, they were exposed to radiation from a very large volume of this substance.
And that's not all! As soon as the "OKO" satellites reached their designated orbits over Mars and Venus, another alarming discovery was made. We managed to find traces of the use of a weapon that killed planets!
It all started with mapping and spectral analysis of Valles Marineris—a significant canyon on Mars, near which we are now digging. Traces of a tungsten-uranium aerosol and regression of the planet's rocks due to high temperature were found there. This wouldn't have been so frightening if similar traces hadn't been found on Earth and Venus.
Old Mother Earth got off lightly. Just an impact crater from a meteorite, which scientists thought was the very impact that killed the dinosaurs, turned out not to be a crater from a cosmic boulder at all.
The use of this weapon was fatal for Venus and Mars. Prolonged exposure, which seasoned the canyon on Mars, turned off its magnetic field (which was already weak), finishing off its atmosphere about fifty thousand years ago.
It was even more fun on Venus. The weapon hit the ocean, causing a huge greenhouse effect, slowing its rotation, and, as a dessert, allowing its moon—Mercury—to go its own way, causing even more chaos!
And we learned this in just five days!!! Five, damn, days! If Earth weren't united into one country and we didn't know we had already been visited—we still wouldn't have found this!
Naturally, panic ensued. People learned about all this news live—today, as we drove to the ruins that no longer seemed so significant. The Council issued an emergency statement when the specialists' conclusions were drawn. A world that wipes its ass with propriety and speaks only the unvarnished truth has this kind of downside.
It would have been surprising if it hadn't arisen. It's mind-blowing to learn that someone plays billiards with planets! It's a disaster to learn that several civilizations were present in our system.
In short, I'm very scared right now. And the reason for the panic is these damn ruins! My gut tells me a huge surprise awaits us there!
Yeah... If we, trained operatives who have seen it all, were shaken, imagine how ordinary people were affected... But it's better this way than ignorance. Lies for the sake of good led to the transition to a new era being bloody and claiming so many lives. I don't deny that the truth is terrible. Lies are criminal, and lies for the sake of good are doubly criminal. We have to live on. We were born not in a safe cradle, but on a battlefield thousands of years long. And this is just our home system... Now the stars in the sky are not silent to me, but scream in horror.
I wonder if other intelligent life in the galaxy started their acquaintance with space like this? Then we'll find them underground, in bunkers, and their planets—bristling with active and passive defense systems. They're not idiots to imagine themselves gods, having such a backyard?
"Rafik," the designated chief robot at the excavation site, approached us. Waving hello, he connected to our communication channel and reported:
"Comrades," his peculiar voice, which used to annoy with its laziness and condescension, now instead calmed. "We have discovered underground catacombs beneath the ruins. According to preliminary analysis and conclusions of the involved archaeologists and builders, the object resembles a laboratory."
"That's a relief. Abandoned laboratories are our specialty," I said, truly relieved. "Can we start reconnaissance?"
"In twenty minutes, exclusively," the robot replied. "My colleagues are performing welding work, finishing the construction of structures designed to reinforce the vault. I understand the urgency of the situation, but you won't be able to pass before then. I would even recommend you wait until all rooms are reinforced. The rock around the ruins is unstable."
"I understand, but we don't have time. No one has time now..." I replied automatically. I was distracted by a received information packet, sent by him. "One second..."
I sat down directly on the ground, trying to clear my mind of extraneous thoughts to concentrate. A semblance of meditation allows for easier interaction with the neural network.
"Homeland, I need your help!" I said clearly into the broadcast, feeling more acutely how the collective information space was boiling with human emotions. "Listening, operative," the collective mind replied in a soft, warm female voice.
I sent the robots' report and my thoughts, transmitting them to the AI. A second later, Katya and Lakmus supported me.
"Understood," the mind replied, addressing all of humanity: "The Fatherland needs your contribution, comrades!"
The "Collective" trembled as data streams rushed back and forth. Picking up the packets we sent and listening to the task, many people—both living and dead—began to carry out the plan.
The world visible to my eyes trembled, as if rolling back thousands of years. Using collective computing power, we all together modeled the past.
The ruins of the complex came to life before our eyes. Debris occupied their intended places. Looking at the restored buildings, I chuckled, appreciating the pomp and scale of the structures. Whoever built this—they felt like masters, not guests.
Getting to my feet, I walked towards the descent to the underground level, mentally noting the battle that had taken place here. Although the picture of what happened could only be indirectly reconstructed—many debris were simply missing. The sand had carried them away. But this was enough for us.
I don't know who stormed this place, but it was defended desperately. Chips on the debris became traces of energy weapons and other marks of war.
Suddenly, my gaze caught characteristic markings. A new request to the "Collective"—and the picture bloomed, sharply adding colors. Schematic shadows of defenders and their opponents, whose image was taken from the techno-zombies from "Mendeleev," were added to the ruins, frozen in time. The damage on the polished stones was too similar.
But the terrifying creatures didn't act alone. Someone more intelligent was clearly helping them—someone who fired at the defenders when the creatures couldn't overwhelm the positions.
"Thank you!" I said, and at the same moment, the ruins became just ruins again.
"I don't know who defended this place, but they fight either out of desperation or protecting something valuable," I stated.
"Or all of it," Katya confirmed my words.
"Then we'll find out," Lakmus said briefly, giving a mental command for light reconnaissance drones to head into the black maw of the dungeon...
The dungeon was full of wondrous discoveries. Among the decayed remnants of clearly scientific equipment, we found many interesting things.
In one of the rooms, we discovered a stand with a spaceship engine mounted on it. Nearby were laboratories with other mechanical guts and—attention!—a warehouse with containers of that very incomprehensible substance that had already become tiresome. Only here was a clearly purified concentrate. Scanners detected its radiation everywhere! It gave the impression that unknown intelligent beings were stuffing this crap wherever they could. Later, scientists confirmed this...
It was obvious that this substance was studied here. Logical, considering the presence of its source nearby! But that wasn't the main thing! We found the truly tasty stuff in the most dilapidated part of the complex.
Making our way through the rubble, sometimes squeezing through cracks that were just hell, we entered another section of the laboratories. And the first thing that caught our eye was empty enclosures, more resembling cells.
"Reminds me of German camps," I said grimly, shivering from unpleasant memories.
"Bad analogy," Lakmus remarked grimly, having a particular dislike for biologists. Those bastards had taken him apart on test stands so many times that the count was lost...
We moved on. After another half hour of wandering, we ran into another locked door. Silently, I took a vibro-saw from my spatial backpack. We'll cut it.
Carefully, together with Lakmus, we cut a small opening, into which Katya skillfully slipped. Even in her spacesuit, she remained the most petite of the three of us. Our Italian, although only slightly taller, was much wider in the shoulders.
"Clear!" her ringing voice sounded a moment later. "You should see this. Pictures just won't do it justice!"
Overcome with curiosity, we widened the passage and squeezed inside, freezing in place as the light of our flashlights snatched from the darkness...
"No peace, but grandma bought a pig..." I drawled, realizing that this was the real mess, looking at the mummified remains hanging on cables in transparent cylinders.
There were exactly three bodies, although there were more cylinders. The first was clearly human. Judging by the bones—a man.
The one closest to us stood out with bony crests on its skull, but otherwise strongly resembled a female body, with minor anatomical differences in build.
The third also looked human, but had three fingers on each hand and foot. Even in its mummified state, it looked fragile, although the proportions clearly indicated the male sex. The dried muscles on its legs even now commanded respect. The foot resembled a cat's hind leg, with something like a claw just above the foot.
And this entire room simply radiated with the radiation of an unknown element, emanating from a damaged installation, very similar to an X-ray machine. I'd bet my life this device was used to irradiate the test subjects. Why—that's the question.
Wasn't this hell enough for us? Here's confirmation—our ancestors were experimented on, and possibly not only them. The owners of this place, in my eyes, became associated with the most natural fascists. I was also experimented on, but I was a volunteer, firstly, and secondly—our executioners used our convicts much more carefully than these bastards.
Although at least some joy that we have already created pseudo-living blanks that have become a replacement for human material...