“Verify your identity or be destroyed. You have ten seconds to comply.”
Sitting on his command throne, Captain Rael’Zorah closed his eyes and huffed through his nose. Just a few hours ago, his ship had returned to the lifeless system in which the fleet was passing, strip-mining several asteroids for resources. This deep into uncharted space, are such security protocols truly necessary? “After time adrift among the open stars, along tides of light and shoals of dust, I will return to where I began.”
“Verifying…”
A few seconds later, after several security programs had verified that he was indeed quarian, the officer on the other end of the channel cleared his throat.
“Verified. Welcome back, Captain Rael’Zorah. Keelah, I apologize you had to do that, but you know…”
“Protocols are protocols,” he said. Indeed, ever since the attack that had destroyed the Neema, such protocols had become so paranoid.
“Yes. Protocols are protocols,” the officer said. “Well, anyways, now that you’ve returned, please board the Rayya as soon as possible, then head to conference room 128. The Admiralty board wants to speak with you.”
“I take it they went over the data and reports I sent them?” he asked. A few days ago, on the journey back here, he had sent them detailed reports about the planet he’d discovered, using the fleet’s quantum communications network.
Putting special emphasis on the aliens colonizing it.
“It’s not my place to know why they want to see you,” the officer said. “But please do not keep them waiting.”
“Tell them I’m on my way now,” he said. “Keelah Sel’ai.”
“Keelah Sel’ai.”
The com-link cut, ending the hail. Meanwhile, he looked at his executive officer. “Kharo?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Once the ship is back in formation with the rest of the fleet,” he said, “the bridge is yours. Apparently, the Admirals wish to speak with me immediately.”
Kharo nodded. “Understood, Captain.”
For the next few minutes, he studied the tactical display before his command throne, watching his ship return to its proper place in formation. And once it did so, he left the bridge, then went down one deck toward the shuttle bay. On the way there, he sent the shuttle pilot a message telling him to ready a shuttle, with only a thought. And soon, he arrived. Ahead, his shuttle was waiting for him, with the bay doors already open, with only an integrity field separating the ship’s atmosphere from the void of space.
He entered and took his seat.
“Launching in 3…2…1…”
The shuttle zoomed ahead, past the integrity field, and out into the void. And for the next few minutes, he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Just what are you planning? Yes, would the Admirals spread the news of his discovery and give the quarian people hope? Or would they wait until the mysterious species colonizing it had been dealt with?
Only time would tell.
Soon, the shuttle docked with the Rayya. Next, he stepped outside of it into a decontamination chamber. And once it scoured him clean of any contaminants, he finally found himself in the Rayya’s docking bay.
All around him, it bustled with pilots, technicians, and administrators; with shuttles, drones, and light freighters departing and arriving, transporting goods and materials throughout the fleet. Nowadays, the Rayya seemed twice as busy. And immediately, he knew why. With the Neema now a smoldering wreck, the Rayya had to compensate and produce twice as much food and goods as normal.
We can’t keep this up forever. Yes, soon, the Rayya’s ancient systems would fail. Months after that, the last food reserves would run empty…
And then the fleet would tear itself apart.
Eventually, he made it to the command deck, then made his way toward the conference rooms. Right outside conference room 128, two marines from Clan Reegar were standing guard.
“Captain, Rael’Zorah?” one of them asked.
He nodded.
“The Admirals will see you now.”
The door opened with a metallic whine, and he stepped inside. Within, the five Admirals of the fleet were sitting around a circular grav-table, with a holo-projector floating above its center.
“Captain Rael’Zorah,” said Prime Admiral Khairun’Zorah, his voice metallic but still recognizably quarian. “How good of you to join us. Please, have a seat.”
He took a seat, and then the Prime Admiral let out a wheezing cough.
Keelah…
Yes, unlike most quarians, the Prime Admiral was an Aekh’shaatus – far more machine than flesh.
With a suit that could never be removed.
Inwardly, he shuddered. Yes, he’d never understand why anyone would willingly follow the teachings of Eisyl’Xen and abandon ‘the weakness of their flesh’. Such insanity would only rob his kind of everything that made them quarian. And he didn’t want to imagine a life deprived of all sensations.
Especially the warmth and touch of his saera.
He huffed through his nose. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but feel grateful that cybernetics had saved the Prime Admiral’s life after the attack that had destroyed the Neema . Without him, the fleet would have fractured or collapsed years ago.
“Welcome, Captain,” said Admiral Ulaya’Vael, the Commander of the Scout and Intelligence Fleet. Short and frail, she spoke with a calm, gentle voice – like a Sahvi talking to her grandchild. However, every time he saw her, he couldn’t help but wonder why Clan Vael called her The White Death . “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a Captain with your record would bring such…historic news.”
“Yes,” said Admiral Koron’Reegar, the Commander of the Heavy Fleet. Undoubtedly, the Admiral was the largest quarian he had ever seen, standing two heads taller than him, with arms as thick as his thighs. Apparently, Koron had served in the almost mythical Malukor corps – among the greatest soldiers the fleet had to offer, who received classified genetic and cybernetic enhancements. “It seems that in the coming weeks or months, we’ll have to make some…” Momentarily, Koron looked at the ground, then sighed. “Very difficult decisions for the future of our race.”
Momentarily, his eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. His pulse climbed. Very difficult decisions? Like conquest? Like genocide? “Difficult decisions?”
“Only if diplomacy fails,” said Admiral Naala’Korris, the Commander of the Civilian Fleet. Even in her fifties, she still had a lithe, nimble figure and spoke with a voice that could put Krogan at ease. Before his pilgrimage, he had always fantasized about bonding with the Great Beauty of Clan Korris.
Until he had met the joy and peace of his life, his beloved Maeru.
“Or if, despite our best efforts,” she continued, “our people remain opposed to the idea of coexistence with these aliens.”
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“So what will we do?” he asked.
“That,” the Prime Admiral said, “will depend on many, many things.” He leaned forward and steepled his bionic hands on the table. “Undoubtedly, this species on our new home is somehow connected to the Asari. So for now, we can not afford to make rash decisions. If–” The Prime Admiral burst into a fit of hacking coughs. All around the table, the other Admirals stared at him with such concern. And he couldn’t help but share their concern. Yes, the Prime Admiral was over one-hundred and sixty years old.
So how long did he have left?
When he stopped coughing, the Prime Admiral took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. “As I was saying, one day, the Council is going to discover the location of our new home. We can’t escape that. They will not tolerate us disappearing from galactic civilization to rebuild elsewhere and be free of their tyranny. So…” The Prime Admiral sighed. “So it’s only a matter of time until the Ascendant discovers this uncontacted race. And ancestors help us, if somehow he learns that we committed unspeakable violence upon what I suspect are the Asari’s genetic ancestors, or that we denied him the opportunity to claim his kind’s mythical true homeworld, then…”
“Then we’d only be giving the Council a reason to finish what the Geth had started,” Koron said.
A great silence ensued. Their mythical true homeworld…Taerah. During his pilgrimage, he had spent a long time in Asari space, with Asari still sympathetic to his people’s plight, and had grown familiar with their culture and religion.Yes, apparently, the Asari knew they were no products of evolution and natural selection, and had mythologized their true birth world into a religion not to different from how his people viewed Old Rannoch.
“So what are my orders?” he asked.
“With the help of a team, we need you to learn as much as you can about them,” said Admiral Jhago’Nara, the Commander of the Science and Exploration Fleet. Finally, the Admiral had stopped reading whatever report was on his omni-tool, and had spoken up. Knowing him, the Admiral was likely itching to get back to his experiments. “Everything from their languages, their cultures, their customs, to their military capabilities, to the locations of their homeworld and other colonies.” The Admiral cleared his throat. “And most importantly, samples of their genetic material for comparison with the Asari genome.”
“And after that?”
“We want you and your team to make first contact.”
His eyes went wide. His jaw dropped. And his pulse climbed. Him? Why him? Keelah, first contact…The fleet had never done this before. It was already difficult enough for the Prime Speaker and the Conclave to manage the disputes and differences between clans.
So to do the same with an alien race…
Ancestors, he couldn’t think of any diplomatic situation more delicate and precarious.
“I understand that this is no easy task,” the Prime Admiral said. “But you are the only Captain who can do this. None have more experience in dealing with aliens – especially Asari. And your pilgrimage was not only a shining example for all. It also convinced me that you have the diplomatic abilities and leadership skills needed to contact these aliens without bloodshed.”
“But also the strength to make difficult decisions,” Koron said, “should anything not go according to plan.” The Admiral leaned forward, giving him strong eye contact. “If it ever becomes impossible to negotiate a lasting peace with these aliens, never forget that their fate is in your hands.”
Their fate is in your hands…
Again and again, those words rang in his mind. He gulped. Could he do this? Could he be the first quarian to contact an alien race and establish lasting good relations? Yes, it might end in bloodshed, in the quarian people becoming soulless monsters no better than Krogan. But nonetheless, he would do his best. “It shall be done, Admirals.”
“Excellent,” the Prime Admiral said. The Admiral opened up a window on his omni-tool, then began typing away. “I’m giving you complete permission to recruit anyone needed for your first contact team.”
He nodded. He wouldn’t let them down. “I’ll start immediately.”
“Well, then,” the Prime Admiral said. “With that matter settled, this meeting is over. Keelah Sel’ai.”
“Keelah Sel’ai.”
He stood up and left the conference room. And as a walked down the corridor leading to the nearest elevator, his pulse climbed. In the elevator, he took a deep breath. Ancestors guide me. Yes, the coming days were going to be perhaps the most daunting of his life. But for now, he didn’t want to think about them.
Now, he only wanted to see his beloved Maeru. He hadn’t felt her warm presence, nor heard her wonderful laugh for so long.
Soon, the elevator arrived at the residential deck, and he stepped out and headed towards his home in sub-district five, squeezing his way through the crowds. Along the way, public announcements blared through countless speakers. News-casts or replays of Admiral Naala’s speeches played on holoscreens.
Eventually, he finally made it to sub-district five. And there, he finally had space to breathe. Keelah.
Just outside the door to his home, he stopped when he heard Kel’Shaiso’s third symphony playing inside. He smiled. It was among the few pieces of quarian culture to survive the Great Betrayal, as well as Maeru’s favorite.
The door opened with a metallic whine and he stepped inside, only to spot her typing away at her omni-tool. His gaze met hers, and immediately, she gasped, her eyes wide. She closed the window on her omni-tool. “Rael!”
Maeru ran into his arms, and he embraced her just as warmly, laughing. A warm, soothing sensation bloomed in his chest. He rested his forehead against hers.
“I missed you,” Maeru said. “It’s been so long, and–”
“Sssh,” he said. Her eyes never failed to rob the breath from his lungs. “I’m here now, saera .”
Briefly, he looked down at her pregnant belly. For the past few months, she had been on maternity leave, doing her duties as one of Clan Zorah’s representatives on the Conclave remotely. Within the next few weeks, she would give birth.
And he couldn’t wait to meet his precious little girl.
“Why didn’t you send me any messages?” she asked. “What happened?”
He sighed. He loathed leaving her alone, with nobody to lean on through such difficult times. But as a Captain, he just had to accept the harsh realities of his duty. “I was hundreds of lightyears away from the fleet.” With his thumb, he began to stroke her mask, right above where her cheek would be. “Not one day went by without me thinking about you. But…” He huffed through his nose, then pursed his lips. “But protocol forbids any officer of the fleet from using the quantum communications network for ‘low-priority’ messages.”
“Oh…” Maeru said.
“But regardless,” he continued, “I’m here for you now, and have the greatest news.”
She tilted her head. “The greatest news?” She laughed. “Oh, praise the Ancestors, what?”
“Hope,” he said. “Recently, my crew and I discovered a world with the highest habitability index ever recorded. So very soon –” He laughed. Even now, he could hardly believe what he was saying. “Very soon, the Long Exile is finally going to end, and both you and I will have a home to be proud of.”
She gasped and her eyes widened. “A proper home?”
“Yes,” he said, smiling, relishing the sheer joy in her eyes. “One with soil beneath our feet, not the deck of a starship. One on which, one day, we will live unburdened by these accursed suits.”
For a moment, Maeru remained silent, looking at the deck, as if she could hardly believe what she’d just heard. “Saera, this is…” she let out a joyful sob, then met his gaze. In her eyes, he found nothing but pure joy. “This is incredible.” She grabbed his head, then rested her visor against his. “Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.”
He smiled, and a blissful wave of euphoria coursed through his insides. Yes, nothing brought him more joy than seeing his saera happy. But still, he had to be honest with her. “But there’s a problem.”
Her eyes widened. “A problem.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “An uncontacted species – one that should not exist – has already established a small colony there.”
“A species that should not exist?”
Gently, he pulled away, then showed her some images of the aliens.
Maeru gasped and covered her vocalizer. “Keelah, they look exactly like asari. How is this possible?”
“The only logical explanation,” he said, closing his omni-tool, “is that somehow they are genetically related, that perhaps they are their primogenitors.”
“Their primogenitors…” she said. Briefly, she looked at the deck. “Keelah…If that’s true, then this species’ homeworld, could it be…”
“The mythical Taerah ? The Asari’s true homeworld?” he said. “Yes.” He took a deep breath, then sat on their couch. Maeru sat right beside him. “Just recently, I had a meeting with the Admiralty board, and now it’s my responsibility to make first contact.”
“Anscestors help me,” she said, covering her visor.
“Sooner or later,” he said, “the Ascendant is going to discover this race. And if can’t establish a lasting peace with them, if I have no choice but to do…terrible things to secure our new home, then the Council’s wrath in the war to follow will consume us all.”
A brief silence ensued, and briefly, he closed his eyes and relished it.
Maeru put her hand on his knee. Her touch was so gentle, yet so loving. “Saera?”
He opened his eyes, then looked at her. “Yes.”
With one hand, she cupped the back of his neck, then pressed her visor to his. “I can not imagine how difficult it must be to bare the weight of this kind of responsibility, to hold the fate of an entire civilization in your hands. But you know what?”
“What?”
“I don’t think the Admirals could have chosen anyone better,” she said, stroking his mask. “And you want to know why?”
“Why?”
She looked deeply into his eyes. “Because I have no doubt that you will do anything to ensure that our daughter grows up knowing her Ahba was a peacemaker, not a monster.”
His eyes welled with tears. Often, he wondered if she understood him better than he understood himself. “Yes. Yes, that’s true. Thank you.”
She laughed. “It’s always my pleasure.
He smiled. Since the Prime Admiral gave him permission to recruit anyone for his first contact team, then he should definitely begin with Maeru. Yes, if he was to be at his best, then he’d need her by his side.
She let out a contented sigh. “Well, anyways, now that you’re back, how about we spend some time together? Hhhm? On the Ishin’Shaa, I hear there’s going to be a live performance of the Zendaerias. So let’s go. I think you could use some fun for once.” She let out a weak laugh. “You grumpy bosh’tet. ”
He laughed. Yes, she always knew how to make him smile.
“And afterwards…” she said, her voice sultry. She ran her hand down his thigh, then giggled. “Afterwards, we could find a clean room and show you just how much I missed you.”
How could I ever say no? Yes, it had been too long since he’d felt his skin against hers, feeling her heart beat in sync with his. He pressed his visor to hers. “I would love nothing more.”