Saren successfully dealt with the synthetics, taking them out with precise headshots. I, on the other hand, had to fight the rachni.
Large, insectoid monsters with glowing eyes attacked from ambushes, trying to bite off heads or impale us with their sharp limbs. They acted quickly and cohesively, but their advantage lay in close combat – my element. Their durable carapaces deflected Saren's shots, but my lightsaber passed through them like a knife through butter, melting their insides.
Four legs allowed them to maneuver deftly, but thanks to Force pushes, I managed to close the distance with each creature and decapitate it with an effective swing. In other situations, I either carelessly cut them to pieces or engaged in a fencing duel.
The rachni had two additional limbs, similar to human arms, but with sharp, blade-like claws – they could even pierce armor. However, their most disgusting weapons were their tentacles: long, gut-like appendages that struck like whips, and along complex trajectories.
I had to deflect these attacks in such a way that not a drop of the vile liquid touched my armor. The smell of the rachni was murderous, and it seemed impossible to remove, even with chemical cleaning.
— I've been thinking, - Saren began, ducking sharply behind a ledge. Peeking out for a second, he immediately managed to shoot a couple of geth. — Why do you need a glowing sword if you're a biotic with a rare mutation that makes your manifestations of power colorless? Psionic camouflage and a cold weapon would suit you.
— Who do I need to hide from? - I sighed, using the Force to destroy a group of rachni. With one wave of my hand, I gathered them into a pile, after which I crushed them with a gravitational anomaly.
— Considering your lifestyle, there are definitely organizations or structures thirsting for your death, - tossing a grenade toward a pair of geth, Saren distracted them and changed his position to a more convenient one for instantly taking down two more. As he reloaded his pistol, he continued: — For example, I planned to kill you twice and always found you – amateurs are better at hiding.
— What's the point of running from a fight? - I asked, moving through the hangar using acrobatic maneuvers. A Jedi technique allowed me to jump to the ceiling, rebound toward a pair of rachni, and cut them down with a powerful diagonal slash of my sword. — If you run for a long time, the number of enemies and ill-wishers won't decrease. On the contrary, they'll unite and come as a single army with a common goal. It's easier to swat enemies in small squads than to fight well-equipped crowds.
— So it's better to be in plain sight under the barrels of assault rifles than to wait in stealth for an artillery strike? - continuing the conversation, we methodically cleared the complex until we reached the Rachni Queen's containment area.
She was significantly larger than her kin, but I found nothing noteworthy except her connection to the hive. Therefore, I immediately began to subjugate her will using the Force. Imposing my influence on her, I planned her future use.
This creature, undoubtedly, had the potential to become one of the most dangerous life forms in the galaxy. Breed a rachni warrior, go through mating with it, lay a royal egg – and the galaxy gets a new queen – another brood of rapidly multiplying monsters capable of causing a lot of trouble.
Therefore, it was necessary to limit her ability to reproduce, completely break her will, and use her until it was time to get rid of her. This might sound cruel even in thought, but the locust principle applied here: one might feel sorry for them, but only until the locusts destroy the crops.
The rachni are in exactly this category: it's impossible to coexist with them in the same universe. Even if we reach an agreement with this queen, there are no guarantees that future queens won't repeat the bloody crusade of their ancestors.
Finishing the brainwashing and setting the limiters, I went with Saren to the next section. There, the mission's secondary objective awaited us – Matriarch Benezia. Nature had not skimped on her figure. Unlike her daughter, she had "more of everything" – not just psionic abilities.
It's no wonder Saren showed interest in her.
Glancing sideways at him and noticing that his body was half implants, I decided to attribute his fascination to an aesthetic appreciation of the beautiful.
He wasn't likely to enjoy life's other pleasures.
— Saren, what is the meaning of this? - Benezia looked at me with barely concealed hostility.
— Everyone in the galaxy must submit to my will. Starkiller is no exception, but confirmation of the rule, - he gave me a sign to play along.
Well, it seemed silence would be sufficient.
The turian approached Benezia with a confident stride and glanced at the Rachni Queen, whose silhouette was visible through the glass. I was acting from a distance and very carefully. Benezia suspected nothing.
— Another pawn has been added to our army. The time has come to deliver the final blow and bring the Saviors here. They will leave the chosen and destroy all who resist the inevitable, - Saren spoke so pompously that I could hardly hold back my laughter.
— I haven't managed to subjugate the Queen; she is too willful. And the geth... They are acting strangely. Perhaps their dreadnought was captured and reprogrammed. Many of my warriors died protecting me and our goal, - pointing at the queen, she made a fatal mistake.
Saren carefully positioned himself behind her and struck Benezia on the back of the head with his pistol with all his might. The asari immediately lost consciousness.
— And remember, - Saren began reservedly, half-turning to me. — Not a word about the shot in the back.
— My lips are sealed, like a grave for all those who fell ingloriously from a blow that was NOT from the front, - I quipped, making him growl in annoyance.
Walking over to Benezia, I began to work on her consciousness, removing the effect of the Reaper's indoctrination. At the same time, I established a powerful mental barrier to strengthen her mind and prevent further attempts by Sovereign to subjugate a valuable ally.
— Well, what do you know, - I said in surprise, finishing the work. — Your mind was in much worse shape than hers. She resisted the indoctrination until the very end.
— Asari accumulate a strong will over a thousand years and are fully self-aware. We turians live much shorter lives, only one hundred and fifty years. That's enough for us to accumulate combat skills and... - he shared judiciously, narrowing his eyes as much as his physiology allowed. — Don't you dare. Don't even think about it!
— What? Why state the obvious?
— That obvious thing?
— If you're talking about skills that are good for a surprise attack in not-so-honorable places while no one is looking, then yes.
— How I hate you, - he ended the conversation coldly, hoisting Matriarch Benezia onto his back.
On the way back, I freed the Rachni Queen and ordered her to create more slaves, that is, cannon fodder for the upcoming confrontation with the Reapers. At the same time, I forbade her from creating new queens – we don't need a victory at the cost of starting a new war.
And upon returning to the ship a couple of hours later, after overcoming some problems with customs, I was ready for anything, just not a touching family reunion. As it turned out, the awakened Benezia, freed from the stupor, and her daughter, Liara T'Soni, found a mass of sentimental topics to discuss, from which I preferred to stay far away.
I never understood it – family – so I tried not to get involved.
Instead, I gave the order to return to the Citadel, and I myself went to a quiet place to meditate and get my thoughts in order. Strangely enough, the best place for meditation was already occupied by Samara. She sat in the lotus position, contemplatively pondering something sublime. I don't know what biotics look for within, but for Force-users, meditation is something like a healing procedure or a method of enhancement.
In general, it serves a practical purpose rather than a sublime one.
Sitting down, I closed my eyes and immersed myself in working on my inner world. Due to an excessive indulgence in the dark side, complete chaos reigned there, so correcting the most serious deviations took several hours. And still, I was only able to repair a fraction of the damage. Fixing the minor things would require a full day.
But where to get that, when either a forcible seizure of power on the Citadel or an attempt to convince the Council of the Reaper threat is just around the corner? Hm... and how to justify Saren? If I think about it, it's better to keep quiet: I'll say Saren was acting under cover, gathering information about the enemy for the good of the three not-so-outstanding Councilors. It's just that under their leadership, corporations like Cerberus have grown in power, and they couldn't do anything, adhering to a policy of non-interference. For them, every threat just sorts itself out somehow. With leaders like these, you don't even need Reapers to destroy everything.
— Starkiller, we're already at the Citadel. I resolved the issue with the geth ship – they allowed it into the port under my responsibility, - Saren pulled me out of my meditation, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. — Now, the negotiations. I will try to convince the Council of the reality of the threat, but if something goes wrong, I'm counting on your support. I don't plan on dying prematurely, as long as there's at least some hope.
— The Death Star won't build itself. The project needs reliable cover. From the front.
— Are you mocking me?
— Me? - I feigned surprise at his question, but noticing the skepticism on Saren's face, I admitted honestly: — Yes, a little. Mocking the one who plans to wipe humanity off the face of the Earth every Tuesday since First Contact. And if it were at least in a fair fight...
— If we survive... I promise, I'll think about it not just every Tuesday, but every turian minute, savoring the moment of your demise, - Saren muttered darkly.
— Should we tell the Council anything about the krogan breeding? - I asked, without a questioning intonation, stretching my neck and getting to my feet.
— Threatening me, are you? Well, go ahead. It's just like humans – to shout loudly when they're cornered, - he said without malice, falling in step beside me. It was hard to tell how much we were enemies or allies. Somewhere around fifty-fifty?
— And their beloved Spectre was looking at Matriarch Benezia in a rather strange way...
— I was just thinking that I don't really need to take revenge on humanity that badly, - Saren unexpectedly averted his gaze, examining the interior paneling of the geth ship.
I was just joking. Why is he so serious?
Their relationship is a real mystery...