Massive Disaster 5-12 (Patreon)

“Again with this? It seems you consider this Council subservient to your needs.”The massive doors had barely hissed shut for a full ten seconds, sealing the airlock with a thud behind them, before the three had launched right into it again. Being back here in the Council Chamber, it really only reinforced what the Council viewed themselves as as well as what they considered these meetings.Yeah, this place is barely a room. Calling it that would be an insult. If anything, it was a psychological weapon like the rest of the Citadel; one designed by the Asari, funded by the Salarians and enforced by the Turians. The circular design, the floating podiums that made you crane your neck all the way up until it cramped and the near-perfect state of everything.

Granted, it was still as pretty as the Presidium outside if for a different reason, alien trees blossoming in a vacuum-sealed paradise while water features cascaded down walls of pristine white stone, all while the three alien overlords hovered above you.

Three alien overlords who were actually physically present this time, along with their holograms blown up dramatically above them.

Zedd tilted his head, actually admiring the effort put in here. Can’t name a better way to make anyone feel small, dirty and unheard."We dismiss your petty warlord…”…petty? Zedd pulled a face. Well, I guess you could also insult them, too. He leaned back against the chrome railing, arms crossed over his chest as he looked over the side. To his right, Udina was the closest he could get to being a twitchy mess, the flat and serious line he wore on his face doing little to hide his micro-expressions. The man had burned yet another favor to get this emergency session fast-tracked, and the political capital was evidently giving him heartburn. Anderson, on the other hand, was a statue as the Captain stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the perfect picture of Alliance power with Jane and John to each side of him. “And you think to bring us a vagrant with a stolen drive instead?" The acoustics only helped the voice boom, even without the use of mics, the harsh tones of one councilor in particular bouncing off curved walls with zero signal loss.Zedd didn’t look up, even with the insult.Really, he didn’t even need to, considering he knew exactly which of the floating big-heads was currently flapping his gums. 

Valern and Tevos managed to project an air of calm from on high, the short and long-lived councillors respectively managing to look relatively unbothered.

Sparatus, however…“A waste of our time, twice in the same period even!” The Turian Councilor stood rigid on his podium, somehow more irritable without the distance provided by not being physically present in the room. 

Mandibles tight enough to snap armor plate, he looked ready to shoot someone and since no one had handed him a gun, he was throwing sharp rounds at the easiest targets he could find with just his words. "This is your proof, Captain?" The warhawk sneered, mandibles pulled pack to expose teeth as sharp as his tongue. "A quarian runaway?"

"I am not a vagrant." Zedd’s gaze darted over to the clearly-terrified quarian as she stepped forward, facing down the galactic body that kept her people what they were. “I…” Holding data that had nearly already gotten her killed, her voice shook, then it didn’t. 

“I am Tali'Zorah nar Rayya.”Steel. Zedd bit back a grin. 

"I am on my Pilgrimage.” The filter of her mask helped at least, smoothing the tremble into something that sounded more like defiance than otherwise. “And this data isn't stolen. It was recovered from a Geth unit that tried to kill me."

She tapped her omni-tool.

The grainy distorted footage of a burning Eden Prime filled the air, the hologram showing the thick smoke as it choked the skies. Screams sounded out, fleeing civilians and militia alike; the lucky ones meeting their ends quick and the unlucky facing slow deaths and longer undeaths as Geth spikes skewered and transformed them.

The audio was untouched, by him or anyone else, all artifacts preserved to avoid any claims of tampering. Even still, it matched almost perfectly with the data Zedd himself had.

"The attack was a success."

The voice spoke over the screams, sounding out loud through the Citadel Chamber’s perfect acoustics. Cold, metallic and unmistakably Turian, the cadence was even more specific to anyone who had a reason to note it.

Saren Arterius.

"The Conduit is the key. The Reapers must be brought back."

Zedd didn't watch the hologram. 

No, he watched the faces for the real show.

The Turian’s sneer faded slowly, and then quicker still, remnants held in place by arrogance and pride in his species; then… finally…

It shattered, only to be replaced by a slack-jawed shock that pulled his mandibles wide.

Zedd shifted his gaze to the frog of the three, the Salarian not bothering to blink. No, those large eyes widened further, pupils dilating as you could almost hear the cooling fans spinning in that Salarian skull. 

Then Tevos.

"Matriarch Benezia understands what is at stake. Her daughter will be a useful tool."

It was microscopic, a tiny tightening of the eyes, a slight uptick in the rise and fall of her chest at the name… but it was there.

The name hit home as the recording ended and the hologram fizzled out.

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone. It hung in the air, thick and suffocating as everyone held quiet until all you could hear were distant mass effect fields humming as they did their part.

"Reapers..." 

The murmur came from Valern, loud enough for all to hear the confusion in the all-knowing Salarian’s wording.

"This is…," Tevos looked sick, light blue skin paling slightly under the lights. 

All Asari were said to be graceful, and that belief was more than just a myth, something Zedd knew well enough with his own research into Asari genetics. Given their natural flexibility, balance and instinctive biotic assistance, that grace was only said to grow with them as they aged, something that made them appear just as ageless as their bodies looked.

Unfortunately, that grace seemed to crack like an egg as Masani Tevos stumbled over her words. "We will have to… conduct… independent v-verification but for… for now…” The nearly six-hundred year old Asari blinked slowly as if unsure where to go next. “It seems the evidence is... rather hard to deny."

Sparatus looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone. Preferably Saren. 

Maybe Tali, too.

Either way, his hands gripped the edge of his podium, talons digging into the metal as the denial was forcibly stripped from him against his will. The anger that took its place was as Turian as it could get; cold, hard and focused on a task.

"Saren Arterius is... rogue.” The word came out a growl, dragged free kicking and screaming but dragged free all the same. "His status is revoked. Immediately. The Turian hierarchy will not shelter a traitor to the galaxy."

He looked at the humans on the guest platforms, for the first time actually seeming to look at them. Not past, not through, and — despite his position — seemingly not down.  

The sneer was gone.

"We need a replacement.” Tevos forced strength into her voice, the career politician taking priority and sealing over any cracks she had left exposed for a few moments. "Someone to hunt him. Someone who knows the threat."

"Someone who can go where fleets cannot.” Valern spoke next, the Salarian clearly least affected by the news. “Someone to stand where he fell."

Zedd hid his smirk behind a hand, adjusting his aviators as he stared at the floor. He felt, more than saw, the tension in Udina bleed out, the old man suddenly realizing he’d just won the lottery. 

Checkmate.

The board was set, the pieces were moving, and the idiots in charge finally realized the house was on fire.

"Commander Shepard, step forward.”