Mass Effect: Revelation

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

For the second time in as many weeks, Ambassador Goyle was making her way across the lush fields of the Presidium to meet with the Citadel Council. Last time she embarked upon this journey she had been summoned by the Council so they could chastise her for humanity’s violations of the Citadel Code. This time, however, she was the one who had requested the audience.

As before, she passed the sparkling lake that was the centerpiece of the pastoral scene. Once again she passed the replica of the mass relay. But this time as she rode the elevator to the top of the Citadel Tower, she actually allowed herself to enjoy the view.

She had won a victory on her last visit here by defying the Council. But in her long career as a diplomat she knew shows of strength weren’t the only way to get what you wanted. Throughout the known galaxy, the Alliance was developing a reputation for being aggressive and confrontational. Her actions last time had no doubt cemented that opinion in the minds of the councillors. Today, however, she intended to show them another side of humanity.

Reaching the top of the Tower, she stepped from the elevator, passed the ceremonial honor guards, and ascended the staircase to the Petitioner’s Stage. A moment later the councillors emerged from somewhere behind the raised platform at the other end of the chamber and took their seats, moving with a staid and solemn precision.

Reading the body language of other species was difficult, but it was a skill the ambassador had worked hard to develop. She could tell from their stiff and formal manner that they expected this meeting to be as unpleasant as the last one. Inwardly she smiled. They wouldn’t be expecting this. Catching them off guard would give her an advantage in the negotiations.

“Welcome, Ambassador Goyle,” the asari councillor greeted her once they were all seated and the holographic projections and audio amplifiers had been switched on.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Councillor,” she answered.

“Despite some of the disagreements at our last audience, you are still a member of the Citadel,” the turian said pointedly. “We would never consider denying your right to an audience, Ambassador.”

Goyle understood the subtle implications in his words and tone. They held no grudges; they were above petty feuds. Completely fair and impartial. Agreeing to see her only proved the Council races were morally superior to humans, more civilized.

“What is the purpose of this audience?” the asari asked, in a much more neutral tone. Although she might feel as superior as the turian, Goyle felt she did a much better job of masking her true feelings.

“At our last meeting you said humanity needed to learn to embrace the concept of mutually beneficial coexistence,” she said. “I am here today to demonstrate that your words did not fall on deaf ears.”

“And how do you propose to do that, exactly?” the salarian asked. “I have come with a gift for the Council.”

“Do you think you can buy our favor, Ambassador?” the turian snapped.

His reaction was exactly what Goyle was hoping for. If she could make it appear as if they were the ones being difficult here, it was more likely they’d give in to her demands before all this was through.

“I meant no offense,” she humbly apologized while secretly smiling inside. “This is not a bribe, but rather an offer freely given.”

“Please continue,” the asari invited. Of the three, she was the one Goyle found the hardest to read. Not coincidentally, she was also the one the ambassador was the least confident in manipulating.

“I realize humanity made a mistake at Sidon. One we deeply regret. In an effort to make amends, I’m here to offer the Council copies of all the classified research files from the base.”

“This… is a very generous offer,” the salarian said after a moment’s hesitation. “May I ask why you are willing to share this information with us?”

“Perhaps our research will prove useful to the rest of the galaxy. Maybe it will bring us closer to peaceful relations with the geth.”

“I thought all the files at the base were destroyed in the attack,” the turian said suspiciously.

Goyle had anticipated this. They probably thought the files were fake, or at least purged of sensitive data or censored in some way. But they’d be able to tell if they were doctored, so after reviewing them the ambassador had decided to release them in full to the Council. There was nothing incriminating beyond what they already knew; if anything, the files clearly showed Qian had been operating outside the scope

of his official mandate, removing some of the Alliance’s culpability.

“Lieutenant Kahlee Sanders, a survivor of the raid, made copies of the files before Sidon was destroyed.” Now that Qian was working with the batarians, it only made sense to make his research available to

leading experts of allied species. They would likely reciprocate by helping defend the Alliance if the batarians tried to use Qian’s work to develop AI technology to use against humanity. Besides, the Alliance experts who had reviewed the files had assured her that virtually all of the research was still theoretical. It would be years, maybe decades, before any of it would lead to any practical applications.

And there was one more significant consideration.

“The files make mention of an unknown piece of alien technology discovered out beyond the borders of

Citadel Space,” Goyle informed them.

“What kind of technology?” the salarian wanted to know.

“We don’t know,” she admitted. “Obviously it has some connection to synthetic intelligence, but beyond that Qian was intentionally vague about the details. From his notes, it is clear he believes it was far more advanced than anything developed by any current species.”

“Is it Prothean?” the asari asked.

“Not according to Qian’s notes. Again, we don’t have many details. But there is some indication the doctor thought it could be used in connection with the geth.”

“The geth?” the salarian asked quickly. “In what way?”

“It’s not clear. Maybe he thinks it will enable him to communicate with them somehow. Maybe even control them. We just don’t have enough information to know for sure. But we believe this technology poses a legitimate threat. Not just to the Alliance, but to the entire galaxy.”

“And you believe whoever attacked Sidon now possesses this technology?” the salarian asked. “Possibly,” she said, somewhat hesitantly. “It doesn’t appear it was ever actually at Sidon. Qian’s notes

are a bit… erratic.”

“Are you saying he was mentally unbalanced?” the asari asked. “There is some evidence of that, yes.”

“Are we certain this technology even exists?” the salarian wanted to know. “Or are we chasing the delusions of a madman?”

“If it does exist,” she warned them, “we can’t take the risk of ignoring this.”

“We need to find the people responsible for the attack,” the turian agreed. “Before they unleash this on the galaxy!”

“You should begin with Edan Had’dah. A batarian from Camala. Lieutenant David Anderson, the man we sent to investigate this matter, believes he was behind the attacks. Your own people can confirm this when we send you the files.”

There was a brief pause and the holographs momentarily shut down as the councillors held a brief conference.

“We will forward this information to the Spectre investigating this matter,” the salarian informed her once they were done.

“The Council is grateful to you for bringing this to our attention,” the asari said.

“The Alliance has no wish to be at odds with the Council,” Goyle explained. “We are still new to the galactic scene, but we are eager to show our willingness to cooperate and coexist with the other species of the Citadel.”

She could see from their expressions that she had won them over to her side. Now it was time to strike. “Kahlee Sanders, the researcher who escaped Sidon, is in hiding on Camala right now,” she continued,

moving without pausing from supplication to an appeal she knew they would grant. “We have reason to

believe her life is in danger as long as she remains on that world.

“The Alliance would like to arrange for one of our ships to touch down on Camala somewhere outside the spaceports to pick her up and bring her to safety.”

“That is a reasonable request,” the turian said after a moment’s consideration. “The Council can make arrangements with batarian authorities to permit this.”

“There is one more request I would make of the Council,” Ambassador Goyle added, employing one of the most basic, yet most effective, tactics of negotiation: little yes, big yes. Getting someone to agree to a minor concession established a tone of agreement and cooperation. It made it more likely they would be receptive to larger issues.

“Lieutenant Anderson, the Alliance operative who brought Edan’s involvement to light, is also on

Camala.”

“You wish to have him evacuated as well?” the salarian guessed.

“Actually, we would like him to accompany your Spectre when he goes after Edan Had’dah.” “Why?” the asari asked. Goyle couldn’t tell if she was suspicious or merely curious.

“Several reasons,” the ambassador admitted. “We think Dr. Qian may still be alive. If he is captured, we would like him to be extradited to the Alliance to stand trial for his role in the murder of our people at Sidon.

“And we see this as a learning opportunity for Lieutenant Anderson. The reputation of the Spectres is well known; they are representatives of the Council, the guardians of Citadel Space. Working with your agent will help the lieutenant better understand the methods Spectres employ to defend interstellar peace and stability.”

She hesitated briefly before continuing, taking a moment to precisely form her next argument. This request had the potential to backfire, but it was the whole purpose of this audience. And it was likely the councillors were thinking it themselves already.

“We are also hoping your agent can evaluate Lieutenant Anderson’s performance on the mission. If he does well, perhaps he can be considered as a candidate for the Spectres himself.”

“Admitting someone to the Spectres is a long and involved process,” the turian protested. “Individuals must prove themselves through years of exemplary military or law enforcement service before they can even be considered for the honor.”

“Lieutenant Anderson has served in the Alliance military for nearly a decade,” the ambassador assured them. “He has completed our N7 elite special operations program, and won numerous citations, medals, and honors of distinction in the line of duty. I can easily make his records available to the Council.”

“Candidates must undergo a rigorous screening process,” the salarian explained, raising another objection. “Background checks, psychological evaluations, and a prolonged period of mentorship and field training are typically involved.”

“I am not asking that you admit him to the Spectres,” the ambassador clarified. “Only that you allow him to accompany Saren on his mission, and judge him based on his performance to see if he has the potential.”

“Your species is still new to the galaxy,” the asari told her, finally addressing the issue they were all

dancing around. Officially, Spectres could come from any species. But almost invariably they were only chosen from the Council races.

The bias was perfectly understandable: giving individuals of a species direct access to the Council, along with the authority to act outside the bounds of galactic law when necessary, attached a perceived importance to that individual’s species. Allowing a human into the Spectres would send a message to the rest of the galaxy that the Council considered humans on a par with the turians, salarians, and asari. That wasn’t far removed from the truth, which was exactly why Ambassador Goyle was pushing for this now.

“Many species have been part of the Citadel for centuries, yet have never had a Spectre drawn from their ranks,” the asari continued. “Granting this request may cause resentment among them.”

“Just as I’m sure there was resentment among them when the turians were added to the Council,” Ambassador Goyle countered.

“Those were exceptional circumstances,” the salarian interjected, offering up a defense on behalf of the turian councillor. “The turians were instrumental in ending the Krogan Rebellions. Billions of lives were saved.”

And they had a fleet almost as large as the asari and salarians put together, Goyle silently added.

Out loud she said, “At our last meeting you told me humanity had to be willing to sacrifice for the sake of others. I could have bargained for this concession with the information from Sidon, but I chose to give that to you freely for the greater good. Now I am offering you the aid of one of the Alliance’s top soldiers to end a threat we may have unwittingly helped create.

“All I ask in return is that you consider the lieutenant as a possible candidate for the Spectres.”

There was no immediate response from the Council. The ambassador realized they were still leery of her because of her actions at the last meeting. But there was a time for brinksmanship and a time for acquiescence. She had to show them the Alliance was willing to work both sides of that fence.

“I make no demands here. I’m not asking you to promise or commit to anything. I believe this experience will benefit Lieutenant Anderson and the Alliance. I believe it will strengthen humanity’s bond with the rest of the Citadel. And I truly believe it will give us a better understanding of the duties and responsibilities we owe to the greater galactic community.

“However, if you refuse this request I will willingly accept the wisdom of your decision.”

She expected the Council to confer once again to discuss her proposal. However, to her surprise, the asari simply gave her a warm smile.

“You have made your point, Ambassador. We will grant your request.”

“Thank you, Councillor,” Goyle replied. She was caught off guard by the sudden acceptance, but she did her best not to reveal how much she had been taken aback.

“This meeting of the Council is adjourned,” the asari said, and the Council rose from their seats and disappeared down the stairs of their platform.

Goyle turned and made the long walk down from the top of the Petitioner’s Stage, frowning. She had studied every decision made by the Council in the last five centuries in detail. In every case they had acted unilaterally. If there was ever any dissension, they would debate the issue until a mutual accord could be reached.

So how was it possible for the asari councillor to decide on her own to grant this request?

As she reached the elevator and stepped inside, the explanation finally popped into her head. Somehow they had anticipated her request before she’d even broached the subject. They must have known where she was leading them, and discussed it during the brief conference after she had mentioned Edan Had’dah. They had already decided how they would respond long before she ever brought the subject up.

Ambassador Goyle had thought she was in control, driving the negotiations to manipulate the Council to her best advantage, like she had at the previous meeting. She’d caught them off guard last time, but this time they’d been ready for her. They were the ones who’d been in control, walking her through the

script like actors in a play, knowing the final outcome all along. And only in the final moment of the scene had they tipped their hand, a subtle revelation of the truth they must have known she would pick up on.

Riding down in the elevator, Ambassador Goyle tried to take solace in the knowledge that she had gotten exactly what she’d wanted out of the meeting. But she wasn’t used to being outmaneuvered, and she couldn’t help wondering if she had made a mistake.

Why had the Council been so eager to grant her request? Did they really think humanity was ready for this? Or were they expecting Anderson to fail, then hoping to use that failure as an excuse to hold the Alliance back?

If nothing else, the experience had given her a whole new respect for the Council and their understanding of negotiations and diplomacy. She considered herself a student of politics, and now she was very aware she had just been schooled at the feet of the masters.

They’d sent her an unmistakable message: they knew how to play this game as well as she. Whatever advantage the Alliance might have had in dealing with the Council, it was gone. The next time she had to face them, the ambassador realized, she’d be constantly second-guessing herself. No matter how

prepared or careful she was, in the back of her mind there’d be that lingering uncertainty: was she leading the negotiations, or being led?

And she had no doubt that this was exactly what the Council wanted.