The Council Chamber was dimly lit. The meeting had ended about an hour ago, but Tevos had not left the place, continuing her work. She would have been glad to rest, but duty demanded otherwise, even though fatigue was urging her hands to drop.
"The Goddess seems to be mocking me!" the Asari thought bitterly, remembering a nearly forgotten deity. Fewer and fewer daughters of Thessia chose the old path that had led their people to the pinnacle of the galaxy in the distant past. Thanks to their ideals, it was the Asari who first found the Citadel...
These ideals, or rather their collapse, destroyed them. What resulted, pieced together by wounded souls from fragments, could no longer be called her people in any way! Beings born from the foam of change, though they carried Asari blood in their veins, were not so in spirit. These very ideals compelled the not-so-young matron not to give up.
"If your essence crumbled from a single touch, burying your culture, then perhaps it was doomed from the beginning?" the words of the advisor from the USSR, which surfaced from memory, burned Tevos. Years ago, she had replied with insolence; now, tired and disappointed, the woman understood the truth of what had been said.
The matron was not stupid; she saw much more than others, but she refused to believe the obvious. Every time she read the reports submitted to her by esteemed experts, Tevos understood what first-class nonsense her people were creating, using her hands! There was no point in all the intrigues when the communists had outplayed them and destroyed them with the very first move. All their struggles only made things worse.
"And how many lives did this silent confrontation cost? What was all this for?" she asked herself.
The Matriarchs themselves had softened the Republic, preparing it for a finishing blow, not even a blow, but a nudge from the councils. Having initiated an ideological confrontation, the Citadel morally decomposed, dragging the Asari with it. Every countermeasure against the USSR only accelerated the process of decay, which was not visible at the moment. The calculations were perfect!
"Oh, to win with little bloodshed!" the realization tormented Tevos. The Communists could have been defeated, but there was no question of a small price. If the Citadel had struck immediately, the USSR would have had no chance. They would have simply been buried under corpses. What could one arm do against the entire galaxy, with more resources and a larger population? With relatively equal military technologies, the issue would have been resolved quickly and bloodily. Only the method of interstellar travel of the red plague spoiled everything!
They could have forced a general battle, burned their planets, but received a retaliatory strike, and the Communists knew how to take revenge!
But the USSR pretended to accept the rules, while marking its disobedience. It lulled their vigilance. Now the Union would emerge victorious from the confrontation, even if it paid a huge price, but they didn't need that.
"Only when I was broken and crushed, and started thinking with my head, not my pride, did I realize that the USSR was truly preparing and straining itself to meet someone... The Reapers or some other enemy – it doesn't matter anymore. We weren't an opponent to them, and our unwillingness to listen turned us into a buffer that would take the first blow from their true enemy." – Tevos came to a bitter understanding.
"I didn't expect to see you here at such a late hour," the warm, velvety baritone of the USSR advisor made the Asari flinch.
Lost in her thoughts, the matron hadn't heard the too-quiet steps of the giant wulfhednar.
Seeing this, the sentient dog lowered its ears slightly, as if apologizing, but the experienced politician did not believe in the feigned repentance. Over the years spent fighting communism, she had learned to distinguish when its adherents were acting and when their emotions were sincere.
"Unable to convey their emotions, they learned to play, compensating for the 'inferiority' of verbal communication for their interlocutor, to convey hidden subtext and imagery. But this did not mean they didn't juggle them, confusing the opponent. Without directly deceiving, the communists masterfully juggled facts." – the analysts' calculations from years ago resurfaced once again, proving to be both true and false simultaneously, confirming themselves even better.
"I am merely trying to prevent a galactic-scale slaughter," Tevos said wearily.
"A commendable undertaking, worthy of respect. Coming here today, I did not expect such decisive actions from you... To push through the appointment of two immediately uncontrollable SPECTRES... That's strong," the sentient beast expressed admiration softly.
"Do you want me to say it so badly?" the Asari felt irritation, understanding where she was being pushed. "Fine. You were right from the beginning. I hope that the appointment of these beings to the post of SPECTRES will help you prevent the slaughter between the Quarians and the Geth."
The advisor from the Union merely grimaced, as if he had swallowed a sour, rotten lemon.
"If only it were that simple..." his voice also sounded weary. "I am glad for your insight and departure from the egocentrism of your race, but it's too late. But you are right about one thing, we will not allow the slaughter of the Geth and Quarians. The fleet, provoked by you onto such a radical path, will, albeit with losses, reclaim its home."
"You've decided to help them. Wise, considering your alliance," the advisor nodded in time with her thoughts, instantly calculating the consequences.
"We will not help them," the USSR advisor objected. "If it weren't for the sabotage you organized and the blatant incitement of all the leading races of the Citadel, the nomads would have returned to their homeland long ago. The very reason for a forceful solution would have disappeared."
"How?" Tevos didn't understand.
"It's simple," the interlocutor explained. "We never considered that there were only two parties to the conflict in this situation. If Space had helped at the beginning, galactic history would have turned out differently. At the same time, we were free from your prejudices towards synthetics. Unlike organics, they do not lie and readily tell their version of events without embellishment."
"The Hierarchy was right in its accusations," the Asari merely shook her head.
Now she was even more confused. Why didn't the USSR act then, having such allies?
"But it didn't understand the essence," the advisor agreed. "You are accustomed to considering the Geth as mere machines. That is a dangerous judgment. Very. For all their logic, they can also bite the bit, and thanks to your actions, the synthetics have done so. Given the opportunity to resolve the entire situation without shots, the Geth refused. Do you know why?"
Tevos wasn't going to play along, so she remained silent.
""We will teach the creators a lesson," they told us. That's why the Quarians will reclaim Rannoch. That's why the Turians will attack them, and then the Citadel dwellers will try to arrange a slaughter, if not genocide, because they were incited against us, and this aggression needs an outlet. That's why the Geth will die for their wayward creators and with them..."
"But you can stop this!" the Asari interrupted her interlocutor, objecting.
"We can," the wulfhednar agreed. "Only we won't, because it won't achieve anything. Instead of the Quarians, a little later, it will be you or the Salarians, because, while we were talking, you were sowing the wind. If all of you had stopped and listened, sacrificing your pride... Now you will have to pay with lives. And we are not angels to go around wiping everyone's snot, forgive my rudeness! Unlike you, we will not be hypocritical and will honestly say that the lives of OUR citizens are more important!"
The advisor felt a chill from the wulfhednar's words. It seemed as if the very air was covered in frost, despite the entire climate control system.
Allowing the full weight of what was said to sink in, her interlocutor continued, but much more gently:
"But at the same time, we will not allow a slaughter, but only because it is not beneficial to all of us. If words have not had an effect, then a slap will help! Therefore, the Quarians, having taken their Rannoch, will lose it. And one thing pleases me: my country has done everything to prevent this! Wings of freedom always grow with pain. Only those free from prejudice will be able to withstand the coming storm."
"I agree. It's only our fault," Tevos surrendered. "That's why I did what I did. I hope that the two SPECTRES will help you solve your problems to free up forces to prevent the slaughter. Although my actions can be interpreted as treason to the interests of my people, they are correct! Not after all..."
The sentient dog smirked, seeing through the matron's turmoil. He only had to voice the true reason for her moral torment.
"And this has nothing to do with the matriarchs' plan?" he made the Asari freeze with a single phrase. "What is it like to know that all your words about peace and harmony are just a deception? You directed the peoples to become a buffer between you and the Reapers, in order to slip away at the last moment! After all, the Protheans warned you, but you didn't warn the galaxy, did you? You even turned our words into dust!"
Tevos would have liked to object, but this was precisely the case when the communist, with a single truth, shattered everything. Another confirmation: they knew everything from the beginning. That's why they broke her entire race, despising their rotten core behind a pious facade. How many times had they said: "Don't do this!"?
The peacemaker was afraid to admit: the monster was not the imaginary enemy, but them! Now, all that remained was to rely on the strength of the USSR, praying to the forgotten Goddess, shedding bitter tears, hoping it wasn't too late...
***
The Normandy tore forward, rushing towards its goal. While storms raged in the political world, the cruiser glided through space in a warp bubble, to the crystal song of its engines. The world for the crew shrank to the size of the hull, outlined by armor plates.
By ship's time, it was night. In theory, only the duty watch should have been awake, but circumstances demanded otherwise from some.
Artyom locked himself in the communications node. The amplifying equipment allowed not only to send mental symbols to each other but also to communicate in real-time, as if his interlocutor was tens of light-years away, simultaneously accelerating consciousness, stretching minutes into hours for the speakers. His commander had too much to tell the operative to fit it into a regular call.
On the other end of the line, Sergey cursed enemies, mad scientists, the imminent end of the world, regretting that he couldn't tear himself into several parts. After the capture of Omega, he, as the commander of the Argentum, was to lead the assault on the Collectors' base.
Fleet formations were already ready to unleash the full might of several fleets on the Reapers' accomplices, but reconnaissance stopped the Red Fleet's advance. Their enemy's refuge was too close to a black hole, being within its gravitational zone, which nullified the possibility of warp jumps. Therefore, the fleet went into drift, awaiting the arrival of tugs that could guide it through the only path – a relay.
The attack was to begin in twenty-four hours. Barely recovered from a coma, Sergey brought all available operatives of the squad to combat readiness, knowing what was at stake. All he had left was to curse through clenched teeth, hoping that Shep could reach the feminist-minded scientist before the Ghost.
The Lieutenant Colonel himself was buried under what he heard. Artyom could only guess at all the vileness that had driven Academician Lebedev to do what he did, but neither he nor CERBERUS could have imagined the full depth of the monstrous act he had conceived.
Now that the words about the only way had taken a clear form, the complete insanity and genius of Comrade Lebedev were understandable. "Correct, Comrade Sechenov resigned from his post as head of the coordination council. He learned the lesson well, not allowing himself to be made an idol... Respect for Lebedev played a cruel trick on us," Shep lamented, seething with anger...
Another cabin was also awake.
"Open up," Miranda shouted, not wanting to get out of her chair when the door sensor informed her of a guest. Not that she wanted these guests, but, guessing who was on the other side of the threshold, she resigned herself to the necessity.
"It seems things are more serious than I thought," Risa said, looking at the scattered uniform, stepping over the chaotically lying clothes.
The sentient cat, who had known the girl for too long, was, to put it mildly, saddened by such a sight. Her friend, a pedant to the bone, neat to the point of irritation, had scattered her clothes like this, showing best how out of sorts she was.
Sighing, the cat plopped into the chair opposite, brazenly pulling a plate of fruit towards herself. Majestically flicking her tail, Risa declared:
"Tell me," she said, biting into a glass pear with a crunch.
Glaring grimly at her impudent friend, watching the rapid disappearance of the fruit into the mouth of a predator for whom the fruit was just a trifle, Miranda closed her eyes. Taking a sip of cooled coffee with cinnamon and a teaspoon of sugar, she looked at the cat again, who was ignoring the eloquent message to leave her alone, and assessed:
"He's a complete idiot," the words slipped too easily from her lips, making the feline choke on a piece of sweet fruit.
Carefully swallowing the treat that had become a lump, shocked by such an answer, but not showing it, Risa finished the pear in one go, pondering. The emotional image where their mutual acquaintance Artyom turns into a ungulate was subjected to particularly thorough analysis.
"It's very interesting that you think so of our commander. And now, can I have the details?" the cat asked, twirling her hand.
"Details, then details..." the girl said too complacently. "I understand everything, past traumas, lost love... Years ago, I was ready for him to send me away, like all the other "forget-me-nots." No offense?"
Risa merely nodded majestically, not offended, remembering how much nerves her sister had drained from her husband until she could be happy again. In a world where everyone feels the emotions of others, love is found once and for all. It's one thing if you're not reciprocated. It hurts, but you can survive it, but it's completely different when the one you love dies. Part of you dies with him, leaving a scar that may never heal. Not everyone connected is lucky enough to love again.
"And I understand how I look. At one point, I even thought about plastic surgery or scars so as not to look alike, but I quickly realized that I wasn't to blame for how I was created, and it wouldn't help. The problem is in the head." – Miranda sent another mental image to her friend.
Here, the cat felt a little ashamed, but only a little. She had also met her at first and treated her based on her appearance. But she was only a little ashamed. "Felinids and shame – incompatible!" Risa loved to say, shocking the audience.
"Honestly, I would have understood if he had sent me away because of my resemblance. I would have even accepted it as a given, if he had shot me himself instead of protecting me. I didn't care at all what people thought of me at first. You know, when I saved him, by giving him my blood, because he is my comrade, even though I had only seen a grimace on his face before... Only his behavior changed, as did yours!"
Miranda slammed her mug onto the coffee table, splashing its contents around, sending another mental image that made Risa's leg ache. An unpleasant breeze ran through her fur, reminding her how close death had been then.
"Comradeship, friendship... Back then, on Pandora, when the order came, he had the perfect opportunity to get rid of me. I would have gone to the capital administration, but no! And I made a mistake, I fell in love with him. At first, I hesitated to take the next step, then I didn't know how. It's torture to see him in the arms of another bed warmer..."
The girl was naturally stormy. She would almost shout, then whisper, bombarding Risa with her feelings. The cat simply took another pear. Although she had heard all this before, now the main thing was to lance this boil, to let the boiling kettle release steam, not to grumble. It's easy for her to just listen. Cats are masters of listening and purring in rhythm.
"On the Citadel, when Artyom said I was perfect, I felt offended. Firstly, a very unpleasant greeting from the past, and secondly, if I'm perfect, then why isn't he showing decisiveness? So I almost directly said it. And he didn't notice at first, and then pretended not to understand!"
"Miranda, aren't you an investigator?" Risa asked a rhetorical question. "You know better than I do that men, even the best of them, sometimes don't see hints at all..."
"Should I just barge into his cabin, tied with a ribbon?" the girl retorted venomously, immediately catching herself.
"Yes! And even better if you say: "Take responsibility and finally take me!""
the intelligent cat flicked its tail in indignation, but remained silent.
"It was fun to watch your mating dances for the first ten years. Now nobody even places bets anymore!!! I'm so sick of you! If anyone, then my holiness should have fed you a horse stimulant long ago and, leaving you in one cabin, sealed the door for reliability! One is deeply traumatized, the other is tactful when he shouldn't be, to the ass! You'll meow with them!"
Overcoming an irresistible desire to lick herself from the surging indignation, Risa took a deep breath, asking:
"Then why the hell, friend, didn't you slap him and say everything you're saying to me now?"
the cat asked a reasonable question.
"Because it's pointless," Miranda said dryly, suddenly calming down.
"Even if everything goes well, then before a dangerous mission..."
"Oooooooh!!!" Risa howled in the most natural way.
"You seem like two smart people, but why are you so stupid?!"
With a graceful leap, she knocked over the girl, who was stunned by such a reaction, along with the chair. Cat patience is a strange thing. A proud predator can stalk a mouse for hours, or it can hiss and spit right away. One cat, however, had endured for too long, listened, and finally decided to flip the board and politeness, since some people don't get it normally.
"We only live once in these bodies, and the fact that there is an afterlife and reincarnation changes nothing!" hissing, the predator gritted out, baring her fangs.
"You'll struggle like this until the next life! Fine. If you don't want to straighten his brains before the operation, although you should have, so be it... but if you don't talk to him face to face, and then fuck him pussy to pussy, I'll hand you over to him myself!!! And coitus with his brain won't count!!! If you sleep together, you'll laugh at how stupid you were!!!"
"Risa?!" the investigator exclaimed indignantly, blushing, who imagined all this in vivid colors and began to feel shy.
"What, Risa?!" the cat finally raged.
"I'm not kidding!!! You've been putting me through this fucking suffering over the waters of the Atlantic Ocean for three hundred and twenty-five episodes! I'm tired of watching! Enough! You are two hopelessly in love, head-fucked people! So be together!!! If you chicken out, I'll show you that there's no beast fiercer than a cat! First, I'll pull your eye onto your ass, and then his! For symmetry!"
As proof of her intentions, the predator showed her well-groomed claws, wiggling them near her eye, of a very impressive size and sharpness.
"I'll drive you with kicks! Enough of this for me!" one angry cat thought maliciously...