"You have brought very regrettable news, Comrade Pastukhov," Advisor Wolfgang finally replied after a few minutes of silence with a sigh. "The USSR Coordination Council will have a lot of work in the coming days. As will CERBERUS. We will need to establish the full depth of Comrade Lebedev's fall."
Wolfhednar reinforced his words with a mental image where he himself had repeatedly sought help from the compromised academician, whom Artem had handed over to investigators sent from Moscow to the Citadel by courier. The mere investigation of such a prominent figure in science caused public resonance, making the entire 'Collective,' not just a segment of it, buzz and seethe. The collective mind's interest was not something citizens of the Union could simply dismiss. It was assembled from parts of each mind, united by a neural network.
Therefore, the system's response was immediate and unequivocal, even though Lebedev's full guilt had yet to be established. As if that were not enough, the Turians took advantage of the mercenary fleet's attack on Eden Prime. The Hierarchy again raised the issue of the USSR's inability to protect not only the Citadel but also themselves, twisting facts in their favor, shuffling reality and fiction in an ideological war.
"On behalf of myself, I can state that the 'Argentum' detachment will spare no effort to resolve this situation," the operative said.
The Asari and Salarians, dependent on the Red Army's might, were in no hurry to help the Union, gleefully choosing the role of observer, forcing the advisor from the USSR to bear the brunt alone. Of course, if the situation were critical, the reluctant allies would have had to intervene, otherwise the Hierarchy would quickly find a way to settle old scores by removing the Union's ships from their path.
On the other hand, it was extremely disadvantageous for Palaven to enter into confrontation now. The conflict with the Migrant Fleet, brewing for all these years, had intensified to an almost direct clash. The Quarians, with the help of the USSR, had managed to assemble a real armada, intending to finally resolve the issue with the Geth, who were sitting very quietly behind the Veil, having reclaimed their home. The militarization of the entire nomadic people was not at all pleasing to the Knights of the Citadel, who were forced to also divert attention to the territories of the former Hegemony and the demilitarized zone of the Krogan, where things were also not entirely calm.
To react to all this properly, the Turians had to move their ships, and this was a consumption of zero element, which they could not obtain just like that. Although their industry could meet the fleet's needs, it was only at the expense of the economic sector if the situation escalated to war. Despite the militarism of the Hierarchy's society, no one would allow the Primarch to withdraw zero element from the economy without dire need. Therefore, such valuable raw materials had to be purchased with credits, paying dearly, because after the final cooling of relations with the USSR, only the Asari and Salarians remained, who would not strengthen their enemy for free. It was then that the Hierarchy remembered the debts of the Quarian people, which they had accumulated during the synthetic uprising.
The Board of Admiralty, before the operation to liberate Rannoch, was, of course, not going to pay interest, postponing the already prolonged decision. If they acted so, they would be overthrown in the morning by the ship crews, on which there were no victorious sentiments. Although the Fleet's chances were not bad, everyone understood: victory would not be easy! The recent refusal of the Union's offer to transfer a planet suitable for Quarians to the Fleet's use only added fuel to the fire. For now, the admirals managed to contain the discontent, but only for now. Therefore, they had no choice but to stake everything on the attack on Rannoch! Victory or defeat… for them, but for the people.
"I am pleased to hear this, Comrade Pastukhov," the advisor grinned. "And even more so, I am pleased to hear that you are not losing your head… in connection with the revealed circumstances. They are too personal. Even for me, who read about past events in textbooks. I can only imagine what you, a direct participant, are feeling. To lose a dear person, and then…"
"On duty, I act exclusively within the framework of service ethics and regulations," Artem replied to the intelligent dog, not flinching a muscle, maintaining a stone expression on his face. "Personal matters remain personal. Otherwise, Comrade Lebedev would not have lived to see trial. I will be satisfied with the court's verdict, whatever it may be."
"Forgive me for stirring up old wounds, Lieutenant Colonel. I didn't mean to pry into your soul," the advisor apologized.
"Apologies accepted."
"Rest assured, the academician will receive his just punishment. His offense has complicated many things," Wolfgang assured him. "Will you accompany me to the Citadel Council?"
It was only thanks to this that the Hierarchy latched onto the attack on the USSR's mercenaries, consistently trying to postpone or completely disrupt the attack on the Geth, in order to force the Fleet to pay at least part of the funds.
This was understandable to Artem, who had listened to the discussion in the 'Collective' and read the news online himself, seeing the picture. Lebedev's stunt in such a situation was completely out of place. Now, a clamor had arisen in the USSR, exposing old contradictions, at the center of which was the operative himself, albeit by association.
Pretending to be thoughtful, Artem politely refused: "Comrade Kholmogorova and I will get there on foot. After the ship's deck, I want to enjoy a place where peace reigns and you won't be shot at with heavy weapons," the operative replied deliberately in a soldierly manner to the invitation, not wanting to spend too much time with the advisor in the near future. Whatever bravado he had, the words of the intelligent dog had pierced his composure.
"I understand and will not impose. We will meet at the Presidium," the advisor understood everything.
After saluting, the operative turned on his heels and left the advisor's office, exhaling mentally as he crossed its threshold. In the future, he had two more similar conversations ahead: with CERBERUS Marshal Comrade Jack Harper and with his squad commander when he woke up from his coma. And if with Harper it would be a simple debriefing, savoring Artem's report, then with the commander... He felt it in his bones, Sergey would reward him with extra duty or commend him for an award, after a training beating, so he wouldn't relax. It all depended on how things played out. His friend was temperamental and sharp.
Miranda was already waiting for him in the corridor, sitting on the bench for those waiting for an audience with the advisor. Artem waved his hand, beckoning her to follow him, hurrying to get some fresh air, although on the station, that concept was very relative. By the sound of her regulation heels, he could hear that the investigator was following him, and also that her mood was at about the same level.
Exiting the embassy building, the operative loosened the button on his tunic collar, sighing a little more freely. As a man of action, he detested all this officialdom.
"How are you?" he asked Miranda, sensing in his neural network that her emotions were far from joyful.
"Tolerable," she replied concisely, sending an image from the series: "This will do!" "I'm already used to not expecting anything good from life. Now my father's words that he created me perfect seem like a mockery."
"It seems all madmen have the same approach," Artem winced as if from a toothache, involuntarily projecting from memory the image of an old friend who had created a chimera from his sister's DNA in the hope of bringing her back, getting, in his opinion, an ideal prototype, Miranda. He had decided to deal with her copy-sister much more... inventively. "But..."
"I'll survive," the investigator replied a little sharply. "Shep, really. They'll sentence him to eternal solitude because his crimes are too heavy for such a mild punishment as execution, and that's it... I'll be fine, really. His words didn't touch me, they just opened my eyes to a series of past events."
"I believe you! I believe you!" Shep raised his hands in front of his chest, jokingly surrendering, trying to defuse the situation, not even thinking of looking into her mind.
"Moreover, you yourself said that the future is not overcome," Miranda said much more softly and warmly. "And we've proven it more than once, against all calculations. Let's just not remember?"
"Okay," Artem agreed, not being a fool, and immediately changing the subject. "And where is Risa?"
"She left with Freya and her friends. She even took Ralph with her to that flower garden. He'll be whining again and carrying all their junk bought in the stores."
"Maybe..."
"I don't like shopping because I don't see the point, you know that. There's delivery or a household goods store where they'll do whatever you need," she replied a little bewilderedly, sending a disapproving image.
"You know you're perfect, right?" Shep asked. "A girl who doesn't like shopping..."
"I wish someone would appreciate that," Miranda said ironically, looking at him. "Usually, everyone looks at my face, sees the resemblance to frescoes in temples, and turns away. Everyone chickens out when they see this similarity. No brave soul has been found yet."
"Well, that's a little better. They don't try to kill you for this similarity," Shep comforted her. "And I have fewer corpses in my karma."
"It seems this whole situation has affected her too much. She's a bit... uninhibited today. I've known her for a hundred years, but I've only seen her like this two or three times in this century," Artem thought to himself.
"That's unlikely. Fools aren't mammoths. They won't die out," the investigator said dryly, her mood plummeting again.
"Do you want ice cream? There's Soviet eskimo at the kiosk," Shep waved towards the stall where a Soviet "robot" was currently serving frozen treats to two asari while their male paid for the purchase. The operative immediately spotted the specific lines, recognizing the mechanism as a geth in the process of legalization.
"At least some benefit from all this fuss with the Citadel," the man thought.
"And why... not?" Miranda asked rhetorically, heading towards the kiosk first.
With difficulty tearing his eyes away from the figure in uniform, it finally dawned on Shep that his comrade was subtly hinting at something. "I'm an idiot!" the operative even stumbled, frantically figuring out what he should actually do next. He was too used to Miranda keeping her distance from all men...
"Years have passed, and she still has problems when it comes to touching someone. Her childhood in the laboratory still haunts her even after a hundred years. Stas... What a jerk you are! But what should I do now? I can't just embrace Miranda like in cheap melodramas that Risa loves, can I? She'll punch me in the jaw. Shame on me for not understanding such a direct hint. The only excuse is exhaustion and years of camaraderie. Okay. I'll clarify later what she actually meant by those blue curtains, when there's an opportunity, otherwise she'll be in an awkward position..."
Adjusting his epaulets to hide his thoughts, he also walked towards the stall. Deciding to postpone the problem, which he would surely be reminded of more than once or twice later, he took a plombir for himself, thinking that a treat he had only seen on holidays in his childhood would cool his overheated mind a little. Silently rejoicing that the investigator hadn't noticed his hesitation, Artem breathed a sigh of relief.
Engaging in light conversation, as if nothing had happened, they reached the elevator, discussing the current political situation. As soon as the cabin counted the required number of levels and opened its doors, they witnessed the end of a very interesting conversation between two turians.
"...forget it. You have no proof!" Venari Pallin, director of Citadel Security, was trying to convince his subordinate. Shep had worked with him a couple of times, as had Miranda.
"Only Saren's brother..." Garrus Vakarian, a SBC investigator, whom the operative had only heard good things about, wanted to say something.
"He's been floating in the vacuum as atomic dust for a long time. All rumors about him being on Omega are tall tales! The whole galaxy would already know about such a mercenary group leader. You know that yourself. Let the councils worry about all this... May the spirits protect you from opening your mandibles again! The advisors are already in a bad mood to listen to your stories again. You're dismissed," the head of security abruptly ended the conversation as soon as he saw the elevator passengers.
Artem sent a thought-image to Miranda that it would be good to keep an eye on the very zealous colleague, until he actually found a living and healthy former general. "Only that will be in a few hours, when all this tediousness with the Council is over. I hate politics!" the operative thought indignantly, feeling even more irritated by the upcoming action, which he gently called "coitus for the brain." Advisor Tethys, with his protocols, would wring the soul out of him, avenging "all the suffering of the Asari people." Turian Spartus would walk over the dignity of the Red Army with a red-hot iron. He just needed a reason to insult the military machine of the USSR, which he disliked with all his patriotic heart, second only to his Primarch in this zeal. And Salarian Valern would shake his head, declaring the inadmissibility of violence, trying to gain additional dividends from the whole situation.
The Union advisor would launch an offensive against his turian colleague, insisting that someone had led the mercenary flotilla through the territory to the excavation site. Lebedev couldn't have done this alone. He was a scientist, but he had practically no contact with the military, and all the staff officers had already been checked for involvement, finding no traces. Consequently, the leak occurred from the Hierarchy, which also participated, albeit indirectly, in guarding the delegation, refusing to provide ships and send them to the USSR's territory.
"It's all complicated! And I still need to find that Asari scientist to compare data and understand what could have been in that beacon... Just running around..." Shep didn't finish his thought before he was interrupted by an explosion somewhere near the hangars. A moment later, the sounds of heavy weapons fire reached his enhanced hearing...
"You weren't in a hurry, Terentiy," academician Lebedev remarked, indifferently stepping over the bodies of the killed convoy guards, so as not to stain his boots with blood.
"I had to disable the Conflux platform, master. The automaton began to suspect something and showed disloyalty to you," the ancient mechanism, which had long become fully sentient, grumbled, rubbing a scratch mark left by the rebellious liquidator in an attempt to destroy the machine full of secrets.
"Now I'll have to hurry," the scientist stated. "Alice has already fallen down the rabbit hole. It's almost time for tea, and the Brave Day isn't far off..."
A convoy guard, torn in half, grabbed the academician's trouser leg, trying to stop his escape. Terentiy, showing unusual agility for his chassis type, instantly flew up and twisted the soldier's neck.
"I apologize, master," the robot said.
Lebedev merely examined his trousers and, finding no dirt stains, walked towards the flyer, kindly parked by the diligent servant for his person, ignoring what the machine had said. Paying no attention to the disorganized firing of Red Army soldiers and SBC forces, which were being attacked by fanatics from the radical sect "The Last Spiral," the scientist sat in the back seat, allowing his servant to take control of the flying transport.
His thoughts were far from here, planning a conversation on which the future of his country depended. After all, there was only one way for the USSR to withstand the Reapers! Lebedev had known from the very beginning that few would willingly stand with him. Well, he would force, compel, and coerce, but he would save everyone he could, even if he himself had to make a deal with the abyss itself...