Liara T'Soni. Thessia.
A little earlier...
Benezia had certainly tossed me a task. Don't let the younger version of myself go to Palaven. It's harder than it looks! Asari are considered adults and independent after forty, and they maintain more professional contacts with their parents. So just saying "don't do it" might be said, but it likely won't help. I need to act differently, fortunately I know my own weaknesses.
As soon as the older me entered the room, the younger one stared at me with suspicion. Interestingly, she immediately closed a weapon portal on the terminal where a page about weapon modules was open. Well, she's not just rushing to the recruiters; she's preparing. That means not all is lost. On the other hand, hiding information like that is such a childish move... I saw everything, at least the fact that she's hiding something.
"Did mother send you?" my eighty-year-old version inquired.
I could only nod.
"She suggested you work for me. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow; there's time to think a bit. Together we can do much more."
The younger Asari immediately perked up.
"Are you flying to Palaven?"
Naive. After all, I... was the same way before I met John. And after, too; I had to learn to live in the process. Trust, working with information, and many other things an information broker on Illium needs. Through risk and betrayal. So I replied:
"No, I'll be searching for the legacy of the Protheans and the Protheans themselves. Technologies won't be redundant now. I'll sell them to the government; it'll be useful."
The younger one turned her whole body and stared at me openly. Well, yes, the words "Protheans" and "secrets" work like pure magic.
"But they found Ilos, a Prothean city, huge, though strange. I was there, well, I flew from there. Yes," she sighed, "Well, I'm going to Palaven; they need Biotics there. There are several recruitment centers on Thessia alone, and on Illium, on many Asari worlds. Just need to pick the best one."
In reality, it's more cunning. The Council assumes the Turians might lose, and therefore recruitment centers are more often located on secondary worlds or the Terminus Systems. On Illium, there are fewer than a dozen for the whole planet, to have a reserve of troops just in case, as Benezia explained. No, the Turian Hierarchy will still get tens and hundreds of thousands of Biotic fighters, but that's far from the full recruitment potential.
But in Liara's case, the pressure shouldn't be on that, but on the ancient secrets and archaeology that are about to be revealed. Yes, she arrived at Ilos among the first researchers. And she only left when the situation began to deteriorate and rumors from Palaven reached her.
"I'm not talking about Ilos; that's just one of the bases I know about. There's also Eden Prime, but we're too late there; Human researchers are already there, they appeared a day or two ago. And the Omega-4 Relay, near Omega Station."
The younger one immediately caught fire. Asari, who would have doubted.
"So we can fly to Eden Prime! We'll get to know the Humans better, too. What you told me is interesting. Or is that not what you're talking about?"
I shook my head.
"Won't work. The Humans have warships there, they say. We'll just be shot down. Omega-4 is better. More promising."
The younger one frowned.
"But no one ever came back from there! No one knows exactly where that red Relay leads or what's there! Maybe it's broken altogether."
Now, to sit in the chair, cross my legs, take a glass of juice, and say:
"The Shadow Broker knows. Both how to get there and what can be found there. And I will be the one to uncover this mystery."
The little one understood after about five seconds. And no, she doesn't know I'm the Broker. She knows I trade in information and might know quite a lot. Or buy it from the Broker.
"Ah. Ah! And what's there?"
Now, to smirk.
"I won't tell. Classified information. The price: flying with me. I'll need help to figure it all out. If you don't want to help, if you're not interested, I'll look for someone else."
And I started to stand up. She doesn't stand a chance.
"You're mocking me!" the younger version of me snorted.
No, I'm taking advantage of your naivety. In any case, dragging the Shadow Throne toward Palaven is too risky. No, better to deal with the Collectors and monitor the Turian capital through agents.
It's a pity there are Human ships right at the Relay on Eden Prime, as was discovered by Salarian scout ships breaking through to their own. It would have been nice to find a second Javik. But even what was learned indicates active traffic with the surface in the area of the approximate location of the Prothean ruins. And neither the beacon nor Javik can be reached without a fight now. A pity; it would have been interesting to know what was there before Saren damaged the beacon. I could start a war with mercenary forces, but I don't want to. I need to negotiate with the Humans, especially since we have things to trade. Starting a war with them for the sake of one beacon is in the style of the Council, but completely not what is necessary right now. So no, provoking the Humans is a bad idea.
On the other hand, the fact that the Humans found a Prothean vault suggests that someone from the SSV Normandy's crew is there. Most likely—Tali. She definitely didn't reach the Migrant Fleet. And she hasn't surfaced anywhere else, which suggests she's with the Humans. Possibly not just her, but Javik and EDI too. It would be easier if she were with her kin, as not only the Humans but the Geth are behaving strangely. But Tali could be told where to look.
Agents among the Quarians say that lately the Geth have become much smarter and have started using armor over their platforms. And other external tools. Previously, the Geth integrated equipment directly into the platform. Now they more often use interchangeable modules, weapons, and armor, which is unusual.
The intelligence of Geth platforms was previously limited by their numbers; the more platforms, the smarter the whole squad. Or if there's a Prime with the squad, one worth ten ordinary platforms.
But the situation changed recently; even without a Prime, the Geth show tactical flexibility and reaction at a consistently high level, with almost no loss of intelligence when the number of Synthetics in the immediate radius decreases. They also wear armor and use weapons and tactics no one has ever seen.
For example, non-standard airlock doors have appeared on Geth ships, turning a corridor into a wall with embrasures. The holes are narrow, just enough to poke a weapon through and turn it about forty degrees in both directions. All technical skills and most Biotics are stopped by the armor plate, as are bullets; drones are useless, as are grenades. A couple of centimeters of armor, often with a Kinetic Barrier as well, and even if you managed to kill the Geth on the other side, you won't get any further until you get the codes.
So there's enough information for the Shadow Broker to find and mysteries to understand. And let the professionals work on Palaven. So I just smiled at the younger version of myself.
"A little. Just my job; it's like an archaeologist's job. Looking for secrets, here and there. And let the professionals crawl under the bullets. My path is working with information."
The younger one didn't believe it.
"Next you'll tell me you've never been in firefights. I don't believe it."
A weak argument.
"I have. But the SSV Normandy is a special forces ship. John was a Spectre, and they don't lead armies. We conducted investigations, infiltrated facilities, even robbed a private collection once to take a device from its owner," and the fact that I only read the reports changes nothing, "but as for a squad going on an assault with an army, that didn't happen. Exceptions, maybe at the very end, when the Reapers started the massacre. But there was simply no time and no choice. We did what we could."
The younger one listened, thought, and asked:
"So what do you want from me?" slightly resigned.
It seems I convinced her. Now just to finish it.
"Since you want to participate in world events, you can work for me. I'm very short on a team I can trust. And the mysteries that need investigating, there are many, too many. Think about it; you have until the day after tomorrow."
Naturally, she agreed. The mystery of the Protheans, even now, is the greatest mystery of our entire cycle. As is the mystery of the Geth, their behavior and development. I could understand if Legion existed now, who in our reality upgraded all the Geth at the cost of his own platform and code. But it's just too early now!
Perhaps it's Sovereign, but then it's all the more necessary to find out what's happening. The Reapers must be stopped before they begin the harvest. What happens if we don't is something I still dream about.
Which means I'll have to use agents in the Migrant Fleet and other places. The reality is that Sovereign was only defeated by destroying Saren and causing a sensory overload in the Reaper. Before that, even the shelling by the Human fleet didn't particularly bother the Reaper. Maybe he was taking damage, but too slowly.
And now we don't have John, we don't have the Alliance fleet; if the Reaper breaks through to the Citadel, we are doomed. Everyone is doomed; Sovereign will close the Citadel, then repair it and begin the harvest. Yes, we could get to the Citadel through Ilos, but that doesn't make the situation any easier. So it's better to find out about Sovereign in advance. Finding him won't work, but we need to track those he might use.
Flying to Rannoch now would also be pure suicide. As would going through Omega-4. In the first case, the Geth; in the second, the Collectors' ships. Prothean Cruisers, for a second. We need either the best possible team or an entire fleet. But first, we need information.
While we were getting ready, there was time to think about this fact and decide where to go next.
While I was thinking, news came from Palaven. Bad news: the enemy successfully landed large forces on the surface of the Turian capital world. Pictures of a burning Palaven resemble the Reaper siege. Losses are lower; after all, the enemy doesn't seek to exterminate all races to the last sentient. But the Turians themselves are standing to the death, so the result is the same. And from orbit, the colossal glows of fires are perfectly visible.
Looking at the photos, one feels... doom. Once again, the bone-chilling hum of Sovereign is heard, the heavy steps of the Reapers; eyes search for the monumental black silhouettes of two-kilometer killing machines and the scarlet streaks of their weapons. They search for Husks, their screams and the sounds of gunfire.
But they aren't there. Because you don't need to be Reapers to stage a massacre of this scale. For Benezia, this was never a secret; her youth coincided with the Krogan Rebellions. Which she never talked about. Well, her daughter now has her own experience of a massacre. I won't say I'm glad.
In the end, it was decided to fly to Omega, to Aria T'Loak. Perhaps she knows what deals the Collectors are making. The Omega-4 Relay is located near the station; the sensor complex on the station is of good quality, it even detected the SSV Normandy. So Aria T'Loak might know. As for what to pay with, we'll figure that out.
We won't fly on the Shadow Throne, of course. The detection systems on Omega, as I've already noticed, are excellent; I have no desire to declare my current status. So I had to find a freighter pilot, and two Asari as hitchhikers headed for the station succinctly called the "underside of the Citadel." By the way, a good question: why is the underside of the Citadel Omega and not Illium?
Likely the point is that the Citadel is the center of civilization, Illium is a frontier world of that same center, and Omega is the place directly opposite, the end of the line. If you don't know the Geth IFF codes, then you can get even further.
While we're flying, I can tell the younger one what I know myself.
"Aria T'Loak likes to say: 'I am Omega' or 'Never fuck with Aria.' It's not that far from the truth. Effectively, Aria T'Loak is the power on Omega, the queen of this city and station. What many don't know is that Aria T'Loak has a seat in the Asari Council of Matriarchs. So I'll do the talking; after all, I have contacts among the Matriarchs."
The younger one choked. Good thing I'm using a jammer, and I checked the cabin for bugs. An ordinary smuggler's freighter. The Salarian pilot doesn't mind a couple of passengers; in case of an inspection, there will be fewer questions for him. A pair of girls flying for some cultural recreation; if anything, we'll play along.
"The Queen of Omega in the Council of Matriarchs? Are you serious?" the younger one's eyes bulged.
Potentially, any Matriarch can get into the Council. But the decisions are made and approved by the wealthiest of them. If you have a corporation, several companies of soldiers, or ships behind you, then your voice is much more important. Essentially, the Council is a coalition of interests of various directions. Aria T'Loak is no exception.
"That's how it is," I nodded, "Omega is no worse than any other corporation. Compare it to Illium. Same situation, only they don't try to hide behind corporate slang; they say it straight: we trade in slaves, drugs, weapons, and anything you want," the younger Liara giggled, "The Citadel inside out is very useful; a free economic zone even wilder than Illium. It's convenient, for example, for trading with the Batarian Hegemony. And Aria T'Loak gets her percentages from it. Very decent sums, billions. So why shouldn't she be on the Council?"
The local Liara nodded thoughtfully.
"I didn't know. And you do stuff like that?"
"And more. Rumors, plans, theories, information trading is all that and more. Entire teams of VI and analysts structure, buy, and sell information; the Broker pays well. Secrets are my currency; information, the dirty secrets of the galaxy are worth knowing. Right now, while I'm away, deputies are working, or I work directly through a terminal connected by a Quantum Beacon. It's impossible to be everywhere alone, but I'm not the only one like this."
Otherwise, participants might decide there's no control or that the Broker is completely unnecessary here. Remembering the conflict with Tela Vasir, the readiness to kill me is logical. If the Broker doesn't manifest his power by eliminating competitors, he will simply lose his position. Which is ultimately what happened.
So, with talk of secrets and politics, we reached Omega. What is Omega? A space station that grew like a mushroom from half an asteroid. Around the stem is a bright scarlet glowing ring and columns of docks. Inside, Omega is divided into sections. Each with its own stories and secrets.
Inside the "cap" of the asteroid remain numerous shafts turned into factories, laboratories, corporate offices, arenas, prisons, and many things that make you want to burn everything there with napalm. Including drug labs and even slave camps and training centers. Moreover, there's nothing to charge Aria T'Loak with here; the corporations are within their rights. Not that Aria T'Loak cared at all...
This district opens to the docks and wealthy quarters. The next zone of the station: the wealthy blocks.
If you have money, no matter where from, you rent housing here. Built to all safety standards, the streets are patrolled by Aria T'Loak's mercenaries. Power is cruel, but on a station full of mercenaries, criminals, and corporates of all sorts and kinds, it simply can't be any other way. They'd tear each other apart. Here, the law is Aria T'Loak's will. And this will is as strong as her mercenaries.
Besides Aria T'Loak, there are sixty gangs of various sizes on the station. Aria T'Loak sits on the tastiest steak and is obliged to slap the hands of everyone who is weaker. Which she does regularly, including personally. The Matriarch is a very strong fighter and Biotic, capable of crushing an enemy squad even without weapons.
It's safe here, and if not, you can always grab a weapon and resolve the issue along with Aria T'Loak's mercenaries. Her residence—the club Afterlife—is also located here. Interestingly, the Krogan Patriarch lives in Afterlife, the previous owner of Omega, defeated by the Asari in a duel and left alive "for memory." He sits in Afterlife, drinks on the house, fights, and he's fine.
"A little secret: among the dancers of this club, half of the Asari have mothers from the Council of Matriarchs."
The younger one guessed quickly.
"So they can be looked after?"
Well done, you understood correctly.
"Exactly. Omega is a risky enough place, but the wealthy quarters are safe enough for the daughters of wealthy parents to live for their pleasure without exposing themselves. We'll need to head over to Aria T'Loak and talk to a couple more informants. The informants don't know who I am, but they will have authorization from the Shadow Broker; this operation is approved by him. At the same time, I'll check their loyalty. Oh, by the way, you're Li now, so we don't get confused. And I'll do the talking, as the lead."
"And why am I Li?" she protested as expected.
"I'm older!" the younger one snorted but agreed and continued listening to the description of the station that I know. They don't write this in the codex.
Below, on the "stem" of the mushroom, lies everything else. The further you go, the poorer the districts. There are docks here too, but without service. Food and drugs are brought here, slaves are taken away, and soldiers in the case of the Blood Pack. Moreover, many sell themselves voluntarily, otherwise there's simply no getting off the station. And the proximity to Vorcha creates risks of being, among other things, eaten.
Not to mention the most diverse filth inhabiting these corridors. Slavery is not the worst outcome for the locals. There's also radiation, gravity anomalies, mutants, anarchists, and bandits who don't care who or how.
And here are the bases of intelligence agencies, gangs, PMCs, their stashes, and trading posts. They still pay Aria T'Loak, as the station has a Planetary Defense system, but in fact, these are completely illegal territories. What can I say, if one or a couple of Ardat-Yakshi consistently wander around Omega, which suits Aria T'Loak perfectly as long as they don't try to get into her club or near her.
Essentially a wild territory where you can meet anyone and anything. Collectors, Vorcha, slavers, black surgeons, Hanar sects worshipping Protheans, and who knows what else. But it's better not to go there without weapons and a squad of friends, proven.
However, we're not going there.
The smuggler's ship docked quietly at the wealthy block. When we stepped out into the common corridor, it was hard to suppress a smile watching my younger version examine everything around her. I can understand; I stared the same way myself. Everyone stares like that when they first arrive at Omega.
Omega is colossal. The dust-filled air that has passed through filters has a unique taste. The intersecting towers of skyscrapers hanging from the ceiling and sticking into the sky, connected by bridges at different heights.
Behind the dust curtain, the edge of this entire metallic forest is lost, making it seem infinite, as it's impossible to see the boundary; sometimes ships fly directly above us, almost like in the Citadel.
So it's not surprising at all that my young version is staring around openly. But the fact that some four-eyed jerk in a dirty suit tried to rob her is. Another facet of this place, by the way.
The jerk flew to the wall with a "Throw" and slid down it with a wheeze. Liara looks at me in surprise, but not judgmentally. So I can explain to the thief that he's wrong. Clearly a local, dressed in a dirty mechanic's uniform that doesn't fit. Which means he came here specifically to steal; the residents of this district don't have such things. Approach, sit on my haunches a couple of meters away, glowing slightly with Biotics.
"So, body. What did a Vorcha's snot lose in this beautiful district? Hm?"
The Batarian wheezed in a voice hoarse even for him. Well, quite the fragrant character we found. How did he even plan to steal anything? His stench gives him away from many meters.
"I work here."
The response was a kick to the shin, making the Batarian howl, pulling his legs under him.
"Lie. You are a walking nightmare for the health department, as my pilot says. No one decent would let you near them. Besides, your reaction, hm. Salt, probably the cheapest kind. You're starting to go through withdrawal."
At that moment, three mercenaries in the uniform of Aria T'Loak's soldiers approached us. A Turian, a Salarian, and a Batarian in light armor and with submachine guns. They inspected us silently; the Batarian used the muzzle of his weapon to lift the thief's head and looked into his twitching eyes.
"Vulger. What did you lose here, trash? I didn't shoot you just now only because I'd have to wash the floor," and then to us, "newbies. If I were you, I'd go to Aria T'Loak. You'll be safer. We'll deal with this one."
"We're going," I nodded, "it's just that this one decided to rob my sister."
The Turian mercenary waved it off. And the thief, holding his sides, limped around the corner.
"He won't live long with broken ribs. He has nothing to treat them with anyway, and he won't be able to work. And you, to Aria T'Loak."
We nodded. The mercenaries followed the thief, prodding him with weapons.
"We're on our way."
And so we went. Afterlife up close is an entire amphitheater, monumental and bright. And with the traditional queue at the main entrance about twenty meters long. If you're planning to enter through the main entrance, that is. Us? No.
Like any building in this place, besides the main one, there are five or ten more emergency exits. Through service or technical corridors, ventilation, windows, or along the outside of the building.
"And it just so happens, Li, that I'm familiar with other entrances. Come on, let's not keep Aria T'Loak waiting."
A guard met us at the end of such a technical corridor. Not surprising; such entrances are very easy to mine, and I noticed the cameras. So we were seen and decided to be invited. Another Batarian in heavy armor stepped out from around the corner and waved his hand.
"Aria T'Loak is waiting. Follow me."
We went up behind the stage, while I had to hold the younger one back. She's young, unaccustomed, and the loud music, alcohol fumes, hot dancers, and hormones hit an Asari maiden's nerves, awakening instincts, desires. And insatiable curiosity. The dancers are likely in some analogue of a trance right now if they took something like Yellow Mist.
And now is absolutely not the time to be distracted by such entertainment; you can't keep a Matriarch waiting when she's invited you for a business talk. The Broker might be able to, but to declare such a thing aloud means inviting everyone to take your place. There are no idiots. I'm sure the younger me will hold back, but experience requires keeping an eye out.
We walked along the large, circular hall, shimmering with pink and purple colors, with music that made everything inside you tremble. Dancers and half-dressed escorts of all possible species, except Humans, perhaps. There are indeed many Asari, almost half of the employees, and the security is full of Turians and Batarians.
We were searched at the entrance, and after that, the mistress herself, with a lazy movement, invited both of us into a private zone to talk without witnesses. And there she was—Aria T'Loak.
An Asari Matriarch covered in patterns around her face with a most interesting history. As the Broker, I could try to blackmail her, but such ideas, especially sitting across from Aria T'Loak herself, are deadly for the author. Aria T'Loak spent her whole life in struggle, and it affected her character.
Benezia is wise, a typical capital Matriarch, skilled in intrigue and corporate ethics. Aria T'Loak is like a blade, sharp and dangerous. Power of the Blade—such a name would suit the one who controls Omega. A functional suit, a confident...
The keen, evaluating gaze of an experienced biotic Matriarch, ready to attack if necessary. And to kill without any hesitation.
She looks magnificent for her hundreds of years—excellent physical shape, capable of taking down a Krogan in hand-to-hand combat using only her fists and Biotics.
Even without a weapon, she is a weapon herself, capable of finishing off a dozen enemies without breaking a sweat. And yet, we are guests here. "Never outtalk Aria," they say. We don't intend to. The mistress led us into her private apartments, turned on a traditional jamming system, and waited for the Batarian guard to leave.
Only when we were alone did she speak.
"So, two Maidens are here, just as I was told. So identical you could be mistaken for sisters—but you know that isn't the case, even if you don't say it out loud. Benezia asked me to help you. Why? What are you looking for on Omega if it isn't drugs and risk? Usually, that's why people come to me—mercenaries, Asari Maidens. They all want my protection, my goods, my patronage. What do you need?"
Just like that, simple and direct. Aria doesn't need to weave political constructs; she is the power here. Never outtalk Aria, indeed.
"Collectors. From what I've heard, their ship arrived a week ago. I'm looking for them. And I'd like to know what kind of deals they are making here."
The Matriarch listened calmly, even relaxedly.
"Why do you need this? What could Benezia possibly want from the Collectors?"
Well, you don't expect us to answer honestly, do you?
"Information. They have certain knowledge regarding biotechnologies that they sold on Tuchanka. To a certain Okeer."
Recalling the experiments of the Krogan Chieftain. Verifying the information will be difficult, as Okeer is definitely dead. And once again, through the efforts of Humans, albeit at a different time and by different people—and perhaps not just them. Among the photos of the expedition on Tuchanka, one could spot a certain lover of Gravity Hammers with ears and tails. Familiar from one of the operations.
The Krogan... another mystery. Humans swept through Tuchanka, gathering and taking Krogan away to an unknown destination. And finding out where has proven impossible. Not just ordinary Krogan, but Chieftains, specialists—which, given the age of those taken, is almost always the same thing... Unknown where, unknown why. To find the Genophage Cure? But then the Citadel Council would be furious; even in the face of the Reapers, they weren't united in the desire to cure the Krogan legacy. The Salarian Dalatress was sharply against it.
Aria nodded at something of her own.
"Biotechnologies, then. Hm. Benezia sent you to the right place, that's true. But I don't do anything for free either. Complete a couple of tasks for me. Nothing major—for example, oversee the purchase of a shipment of medical supplies for Palaven. Do that, and you'll get your information. I'll help with housing."
We had to agree. Because "never outtalk Aria." The Matriarch would wipe the floor with both of us if she wanted to. It's clear why the medical supplies are needed, and clear why they are sold this way. Illegal production, possibly based on drugs or with side effects. In any case, as the Shadow Broker, I can influence this, even if not directly. But I'll have to work a little.
"Let's go, Li. We'll get settled and then get to it."
Aria gave a gracious wave.
"Don't die out there; Benezia will be furious."
***
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