Reaching an agreement with the geth turned out to be far simpler than I had initially assumed. If you don't count the deadly chase and the active use of complex Force techniques, it's safe to say: anyone could have handled it. But add those factors in, and victory in this matter becomes almost unattainable, even for the elite Citadel fleet.
And, of course, no award ceremony with medals for special merit followed. Ahead lay the task of seating the quarian admirals and the geth at the negotiating table, officially outlining the rights and obligations of each side, and then hoping for a postponement of civil war – preferably until the end of time. The Citadel, as the current organ of galactic power, undertakes to act as a peacekeeper in any unclear situation, automatically attacking both sides: neither the geth nor the quarians, no one will benefit from fanning the flames of enmity – otherwise, everyone risks getting it from the neutral side.
However, the negotiations took an impermissibly long time. And the main delay came from the race of cosmic vagabonds who, in their Pilgrimages, are forever looking for something to scavenge to strengthen their own fleet. Hmm, something's on the tip of my tongue... Right! Quarians are like gypsies, only in space. Perhaps that's why everyone dislikes them. Even I, completely devoid of xenophobic thoughts, cooled slightly towards the quarians because of several antics by the Admirals and especially nasty negotiations that almost ended with us all being sent into a Black Hole. Good thing the argument about outlawing the quarian fleet in case of refusal to cooperate worked. Otherwise, the matter could definitely have reached a breakdown in reconciliation.
And even though it all ended on a violin with one broken string, in the end, the quarians changed their minds when all geth resources were directed towards improving living conditions for their Creators on Rannoch. The geth didn't operate on human values, so they were ready to toil day and night so that their Creators would change their minds about their creations faster. Consider it the beginning of a new – happy era.
The Reapers are the only ones who can ruin everything by exterminating all advanced races. They are truly capable of this, so I began actively refining the plan with Legion to accelerate the construction of the Death Star. It just so happened that his home system had many undeveloped planets with deposits of element zero and other useful minerals for construction. And there were absolutely no space pirates, trade routes, or other hidden threats capable of disrupting our plans. In simple terms – the ideal site for building a superweapon. I hope the quarians don't steal anything during the Death Star's construction...
— Seriously? - Saren was indignant. I already imagined the depth of his displeasure. Even though the turian hadn't sent anything secret via the terminal, the threat "we'll talk when we meet" clearly made it understood that he would be burning with righteous anger. Therefore, already in our headquarters, honestly expropriated from the former owners, I had to conduct a difficult battle with this ill-wishing turian.
— Starkiller, - he continued more calmly. — Just tell me. Your "galaxy demands change" – is that serious, or was it sent in an attempt to tickle all nerves at once?
Unexpected. I thought he would explode because of the privileges for the geth.
— Think for yourself, - I shrugged, calmly settling into a luxurious armchair. — Spectres with special authority. Sounds wonderful, but we only have all the advantages from this until the conflict with the Reapers is resolved. Win or lose, it doesn't matter at all. All politicians will start pressuring the Council, trying to strip us of excess power. And I won't be able to process each and every one. And this control is temporary – even the Councilors doubt the advisability of their appointments. So yes, we need to figure out how to arrange a regime change. Lay the first brick for the Empire.
— An Empire is built on conquests and collapses as soon as it loses a strong leader or... When there is nothing left to annex to its borders, - he almost quoted an excerpt from the history of any empire that has ever existed.
— Thanks to my abilities, I can live for millennia. And as for having no one to conquer... Well, the universe is vast. There is always a galaxy far, far away with its technologies and peoples, still unconquered, - I brushed off his concerns. — We've only just begun to study Sovereign, but we've already made several breakthroughs in space travel, launching projects to improve engines. It won't be long before we move towards new horizons.
In the end, the paths to achieving the goal may change, but not the meaning of life itself. I must get to my home galaxy and put an end to the long-standing confrontation. And for this, I am ready to sacrifice everything, even principles, if only it gives a chance to fix everything. You can't just take a single defeat and throw it in the trash, forgetting about everything. To return, I need resources, ships, the Force.
— Oh yes, they also call me an evil beast and a traitor, - he shook his head, sitting down next to me. — I'm not a politician, but having worked for the Council for a long time, I've come to understand a lot. To transfer the reins of government, the Council must vote unanimously, and all ambassadors and leaders of their peoples – must fall silent. Suppose the geth are on your side. The asari, turians, and salarians will follow the Councilors. The rest? Well, at best they'll raise a rebellion, at worst – they'll join the independent systems.
— We'll talk with everyone tête-à-tête. But we'll do it as carefully as with the negotiations with the Councilors, otherwise C-Sec or other structures will revolt. A difficult task.
— Not entirely. I'll take C-Sec on myself. As for bugs and video taps from all sorts of rats, that's harder, but a separate meeting room can be organized. And the reason... We have it. Our researchers confirmed that Sovereign is capable of influencing the consciousness of living beings in contact with synthetics. Not immediately, gradually, making microscopic changes, step by step – until the victim fully believes in the ideas imposed on them, accepting them as their own.
— Aha, the pretext will be checking everyone who wears implants or interacts with technology. The procedure is heavy, requires utmost attention and a minimum of... technology nearby.
— We ask them to approach the table without witnesses, - the turian opened his mouth slightly, depicting an impossibly bad attempt to smile. — As soon as we've talked with all ambassadors and Councilors, we'll launch a regime change and appoint a new leader, say, under the cover of the slogan – it's necessary. Do Reapers influence the mind? If power resides with many at once, expect a blow from anywhere. You can't have many organs of power, because as soon as the Reapers seize one, everything will collapse. We simply vitally need to trust a single being against whom their cursed obsession definitely doesn't work! We will give him all power over us in the name of a great victory!
Saren was overacting heavily, but he expressed the most rational approach to the matter. It was right to trust a traitor with extensive experience – he immediately proposed both a political program and effective methods for achieving the goal. Moreover, after our conversation, he began preparing everything so actively that I completely refused to leave the Citadel. In essence, not even a week had passed before I had to conduct a check on many leaders and ambassadors for Sovereign's influence. In reality, imposing the idea of obedience and loyalty on them myself, becoming a miniature Reaper. Eh, the more I use the Force, the more actively I lean towards the Dark Side.
When I updated the firmware in the Councilors' heads and installed a new program in all leaders of sentient races, I moved on to the next step of the most brazen plan: joint work with EDI on a new code of laws and rules. She predicted the effectiveness of each option, threw in ideas, or checked mine, mostly based on echoes of the Sith Empire.
Basis one – Rule of the Strong. Only strength liberates and gives an advantage, which means only the strongest can rule, and the weak must submit to them. Moreover, strength acts not as something abstract, but rather as a complete symbiosis of intelligence, skills, and superiority. No succession, bribery, or choosing a favorite. The best representatives of their races become ambassadors, as do leaders. And if someone better appears, they have the right to petition the Supreme Emperor for a review of the candidacy. And even then, the deadlines for filing petitions are limited to a year to avoid chaos where petty rulers change not by the day, but by the hour.
From the first flows the second: a strict hierarchy, where any subordinate unquestionably obeys the superior. The Supreme Leader, aka the Emperor, possesses absolute power, and further subordination goes down the chain. If someone doesn't like this, then dissent is suppressed: any resistance will be severely punished, and the means for this are unimportant. Yeah, maintaining control through violence is perhaps not the best thing that can happen, but not the worst either. After all, the Inquisition will be created. Its employees will monitor the enforcement of laws, they will have excellent mind protection, and, if possible, candidates for the post of Inquisitor should be chosen from among the best biotic users. Easier to reform the Justicars, adding not only asari to them. Definitely, this point needs to be discussed with Samara at leisure.
Thirdly, in connection with the Reaper threat, the political course shifts to a military dictatorship. The Empire is a militarized state where the army and navy play a key role. Discipline under such inputs is extremely strict, as is the code of military laws. The hardest part is that expansion and conquest, as Saren said, are simply necessary to maintain the economy. The Empire strives to expand borders and subjugate everything independent, uncontrolled. Some planet or system doesn't want to swear allegiance? We'll impose demands by brute force, suppressing resistance, and as punishment, we'll take part of the resources to transfer them to the necessary sectors of the economy.
Of the good things, only the cult of personality remains: a direct path to turning into Darth Sidious, who is an icon of the entire Empire. Everything in him was considered absolute, every word and decision indisputable, executed with perfect precision. With such a regime, it doesn't matter at all who the Reapers indoctrinate. Just point a finger at the renegade, and the entire galaxy will turn against them. And if I'm busy, the Inquisition will track down and punish the traitors instead of me.
Unfortunately, the Milky Way's course won't change with a snap of fingers, so I'll have to wait for now. About two or three months, until all races, through processed ambassadors, leaders, and Councilors, prepare their races for reforms. The course is already chosen, already set. And it is inexorably moving towards the goal.
Meanwhile... — Still, without Holocrons, it's hard to master new techniques, - I came to this conclusion after several weeks of training. I devoted my free time to a Force technique tied to absorbing life energy. Potentially – the most destructive thing, capable of turning a blooming planet into a wasteland. But without the proper potential and good control over the Force, this infection will easily eat you from the inside.
Continuing to work on myself, I almost missed the voice notification about a new message. Many messages arrive, but there is a special signal on all my close associates. Miranda? Looks like all her bacta research went to visit a Hutt.
Summoning transport, I headed to the research laboratory. It was here that the darkest research in the entire Milky Way was conducted. The priority among them for us was the "Bacta Tank" project – without it, it would be impossible to quickly return half-dead soldiers to duty.
— What happened? - I asked calmly, trying not to show fatigue.
— Uncontrolled bacterial mutations. We were able to modify them using genetic engineering, but they continue to mutate endlessly, which calls into question the feasibility of all further research, - she approached me and showed some graphs on a datapad. If I understood half of them, I wouldn't need anyone's help in developing bacta. — Using Saren's help, I was able to transfer researchers from the STG to this institute, but none of them could stabilize the bacta.
— The salarians who reapplied the genophage? It just so happened that some krogan were able to develop resistance to the genophage, slightly weakening its effect. Which greatly frightened the salarian leadership, so they modified the original virus and sprayed it on Tuchanka again. There's probably no one better in the entire galaxy who works precisely on improving microorganisms.
— Hmm... - Miranda pondered. — The lead scientist, who left the STG after a severe injury during a mission on Tuchanka, is missing. C-Sec tracked his path to Omega, but his trail ends there.
— What falls into acid, dissolves in it. Perhaps the lead researcher is already dead, - I grimaced at such prospects. It seems Miranda's skills are admirable, but there are those who deserve it a bit more. And one of them might be lying on a trash heap. — What was his name?
— Mordin Solus. If he is alive, there is a considerable probability of restarting the "Bacta" project.
— I've wanted to unwind for a long time. If you want, we can fly together to the most dangerous asteroid in the galaxy, - I chose the worst option for a date, where it's dangerous and there are many risks of dying a not-so-good death.
Miranda shifted her gaze to the arguing salarians, weighing all options – stay with them or go with me. If the project is stalled, she's no more useful here than I am. Sad as it sounds, something on the level of furniture.
— Anyone else?
— They're busy.
All my allies are currently slaving away on various missions, as the only ones privy to the adventure – but with different access to my true motives. And each of them, one way or another, helps smooth out the sharp corners in the issue of transitioning to the Empire. We need to bring all races to a single form of power, which in itself is a huge headache, if you think about it. The Citadel Council represents an oligarchy and an intergalactic council. The Systems Alliance is closer to democracy, as is the Asari Union. The turians have a purely military hierarchy. The salarians embody technocracy. The krogan haven't gone further than a tribal system. It's complicated with the geth and quarians right now: before, they had a collective mind and theocracy respectively, now they are trying to somehow dock this. And all of them need to be brought to the Empire for the sake of salvation from the Reapers! As I planned, I just had to wait for a convenient moment, a galactic catastrophe, and Sith abilities allowed me to fly off the springboard to the main goal. But before that, I have to at least just survive.
— Busy, - Miranda repeated, as one knowledgeable about the preparatory procedures for new reforms. — But, if there is such an opportunity, I hope we don't meet Sovereign on the way. The past experience was... rough.
— I'll try to bypass its brethren, - I calmly accepted her request, and together we headed to the spaceport, to my fine-tuned "Starkiller-I." We were finally able to attach energy shields, expanded the storage, even added a few rest areas, a kitchen and, fortunately for the others, several restrooms. Thanks to Sovereign's technologies, the ship expanded, but we didn't get anything particularly new due to the new dimensions. Had it remained miniature, we would surely have resembled a lightning flash!
Once on board, we left first the Citadel, and then entered the Relay, gradually overcoming gigantic distances to Omega. However, on the way to the asteroid, something unexpected happened: we were intercepted by a colossal cruiser a kilometer long, if not more. Even the largest Citadel dreadnoughts would be smaller, let alone my slightly expanded "Starkiller-I." And complexes will appear. True, the enemy ship looked like a real freak. Somewhat reminiscent of a cross between technology and organics, by analogy – a termite mound riddled with many pipes. In anyone, even a non-aesthete, the sense of beauty would die inside.
— Is the enemy ship preparing an energy weapon? - I asked EDI, feeling disturbances in the Force.
— Error. Unable to connect to the enemy ship's core, unknown language, - EDI quickly reported.
— Ha... - Miranda sighed loudly, occupying the co-pilot's seat. — I knew this ship was cursed.
"Starkiller-I" is so dangerous that even its own crew fears it... And the unknown ship is a real dark horse, doesn't look like a Reaper, but not like Milky Way ships either. A relic of a past cycle? But I'll think about that when I dodge the... Flash. I barely managed to steer the ship out of the line of fire using the Force. Even a dreadnought's energy shield won't save you from a shot like that.
Hutt! Filled the ship with useless junk, to my detriment.