Chapter 15 - Jobol's Plan

Jobol went through his Omni-tool to view every single available contact he had on the Citadel. If he was to get the sample to Salarian space he would have to work quickly. He already knew the kind of man he wanted. One without morals who happened to be a skilled geneticist. Sociopaths were a dime a dozen, however brilliant ones were much harder to come by.

There was only one man Jobol thought could be perfect for the project. He had kept tabs on him for quite some time. Even better, Jobol could use what he knew of this individual to get him to comply.

"Dr. Saleon, I always knew you would come in handy."

Saleon was a rather prolific doctor who was known among the STG for putting much time and research into cloning organs for sale on the Black Market. Where his genius came in was his methods of doing so by growing the organs within his own staff and occasionally patients, enabling him to keep any incriminating material out of sight while having it grow naturally within a host. There was a level of creativity to his methods that many of the Scientists under Jobols disposal did not possess.

His only fault was his habit of leaving organs that did not develop properly within the subjects, a mistake that allowed the STG to find him, though by Jobol's own order he was not to be harmed by them. After all a man such as Saleon was a rarity in this day and age, one Jobol was more than happy to hand over the sample of Blacklight to, at least while Saleon was under heavy watch.

Saleon could be easily bought, but the problem was getting him to arrive at the needed labs without stealing the sample for himself. Jobol figured out that problem after only a few seconds.

In route to the Citadel the STG research team had gathered as they waited for input from the Council. Many were shaken from the things below. Mordin was more than a little confused at the events that took place. He had spent months with the species known as Blacklight and until now there had been no incidents.

Now Saren, one of the Spectres assigned to protecting the team had had a major shift in personality. While Saren was never accepting of Blacklight, he was at least somewhat indifferent. Now he voiced his disgust and hatred of the species quite incessantly. Though there was no real fire in his voice as he spoke of them.

Mordin however paid it no mind. Rather, he waited for someone to contact him to brief him on the situation. The other scientists had moved quickly to get the equipment and information they gathered onto the ship. Mordin was thus far unsure as to what exactly happened, other than the ship that made itself known shortly before the chaos.

As Mordin and the others waited he looked back to the data he gathered. To him it was a shame that such promising information gathering had to be cut short to such a degree. Still it was a better alternative than death.

As Jobol sat he heard the soft tone from his Omni-tool indicating his massage was sent.

Classified, delete immediately. When you return to the Citadel make your way to STG scout craft 042-NHK. Precious cargo aboard to be brought to STG Research Station on Gorath. Warning! Cargo is highly dangerous biohazard. High profile scientist will be present, do not harm him. His name is Dr. Saleon. You are to escort him to Gorath station and ensure he does not steal the sample.

Mordin blinked as he heard his Omni-tool go off. The tone it eminated was a special one, indicating that this was an official message from his superiors. Moving carefully so as not to be noticed, Mordin opened the message and scanned it thoroughly before he deleted it. Once finished, he thought over the meaning of the message. The mention of a Biohazard indicated that this more than likely had something to do with Blacklight. The channel the message came on was his personal one, only known to a few people. More than likely his uncle Jobol had sent it. Mordin was no fool. He knew that Jobol had sought after a sample of Blacklight. He would not be surprised if that was exactly what it was.

More so, Gorath Station was rumored to be where the bulk of the Genophage research was conducted in the days of the Krogan Rebellion. It was the best STG Research Station for dealing with something as dangerous as Blacklight. Mordin put the thought out of his mind as he looked over to Saren who was likewise on his own omni-tool. Now that the tension had died down, the Turian no longer seemed to be as emotional as he was immediately following the evacuation. In fact he looked to be back to normal, or at least what Mordin considered normal based on how the Turian acted previously. Mordin did not pry, he simply lay back and rested as new thoughts and ideas began flowing through his head.

The knowledge the Thorian gifted Blacklight on the creators of the Reapers could prove to be a significant boon, assuming they were still around. The Thorian was aware that the creators of the Reapers had survived the initial extinction long ago, and had at least been around during the Inusannon extinction, but anything after that was unknown.

The Thorian also did not know exactly where they would hide nor did he know what their goals would be should they be found by Blacklight. However what the Thorian did known was that there were an untold amount or silver orbs that would periodically pop up throughout the history of various galactic civilizations. Said orbs that the Thorian believed could effect the cognitive functions of organic life, only it was not Reaper Indoctrination, rather a similar and unusual process known to the Thorian as Enthrallment.

Still, until Blacklight could find one of these spheres they were lost on finding the unknown creators.

It was decided that the best course of action was to spread into the greater galaxy, finding allies and the like with which to aid them, to find absolute proof of the Reapers and show it to the proper channels, and to find weaknesses that could be exploited.

However that could wait, for now there were questions the Council wanted answered, and through the radio tower on Shanxi they would commune as one as they did before. Alex Mercer would speak, and through him so would the hive.

Tevos, Sparatus, and Jobol all waited as the Comm Buoy placed in Blacklight space began to activate. Tevos stood with arms crossed as Sparatus stood straight with his talons clasp behind his back, as per usual, Jobol looked to be elsewhere, mentally speaking of course. After several hours of waiting for a response, the screen before them became clear of static and the faces of both Alex Mercer and Elizabeth Greene stood before them. Alex's silver eyes were visible behind his hood and betrayed hidden anger at something. The Council could guess what that something was. Elizabeth, as always, looked as dead as ever.

"This Council wishes to call to Blacklight on the tragic events that unfolded on this very Citadel. Due to conflicting reports on your behavior and the events that preceded the incident itself we believe that whatever happened was through no fault of your own, however that does not mean that certain issues will not arise. Do you understand?" asked Sparatus.

"We do." said Alex.

"Good. Then it is our duty to inform you that regardless of what is revealed here today, Blacklight will be from this moment on banned from entering Citadel Space. Do you understand and accept this limitation?"

"We do." said Elizabeth.

"Then let the real reason we called you begin. Your message was partially corrupted when we received it. We were able to clean it up afterward. You mentioned an AI species called Reapers, and you asked us to contact you for more information on these beings. What do you have for us?"

Alex blinked before Elizabeth spoke.

"We have been withered and reduced by them, brought down to less than two billion Individuals within our collective. The casualties have lost that which makes them individual, and have been subsumed into a sea of memories. Awareness destroyed, but the memories remain. We felt their pain as the one called Nazara demolished them systematically. We are unaware as to how it became what it is, but what we do know is that there are more waiting at the edge of the Galaxy."

As she spoke, Alex lifted his hand as his own biomass flowed to the center of his palm where it would combine and morph itself until it took a vague shape superficially resembling the Reaper ship that had attacked them.

"They are the Reapers. Within each of them is an entire galactic species reduced to base components that, through a process which is unknown to us, is still alive and aware."

Alex fell silent, and Elizabeth continued in his place.

"In their madness they have broken and been rebuilt in such a way that they form a singular mind whose only purpose is to do the same to the next galactic civilization. They drive this cycle, for to do otherwise would be to admit that their own suffering was unnecessary. Every 50,000 years they come and wipe all traces of galactic civilization away for the purpose of preventing those races from developing AI. They cannot see the broken nature of their own existence. Whatever purpose they once had is no more."

The Ship shaped mound of Biomass in Alex's hand was reabsorbed into him before he turned to look back at the Council.

"We don't know how many there are, but we know there are a lot; possibly hundreds of thousands if not more, all waiting at the edge of the galaxy for the time to strike. From what we can gather, they were created to prevent a cycle of synthetic AI destroying Organic life, completely oblivious to the fact that they perpetrate the very same cycle. They hate Blacklight. Blacklight offends them for we will not create AI and we do not use the path of technological progression most species use. They believe we somehow invalidate them, and they do not like that. At all", said Alex.

"That is a wild claim." said Tevos.

"We know, which is why we have done what we can to find you proof. The one called Nazara has left his corpse on our world, which you may inspect if you wish to confirm its existence. Additionally we have found traces of that information on them in our beacon on Mars, and are preparing a profile for you. The information is not the best of proof, however together with Nazaras' corpse we believe you will be convinced. We do have more information we will reveal to you should you choose to accept a proposal. "said Elizabeth.

"That would depend on the proposal." said Sparatus.

"We do not want war with you. You have saved us from our nostalgia and tedium simply by existing. There are not enough words to convey our gratitude to you. We look at all of you and see different branches that Humanity could have taken. It is humbling to see. We do not want to fight you."

"We want peace, but we need your help to destroy the Reapers."

The Council looked to each other before Sparatus turned to the screen.

"We cannot overturn your current banishment from Citadel space. This incident will have disastrous results that would only worsen with your being here." said Sparatus.

"However if we can confirm the stories on these Reapers, we may be able to come up with something." said Jobol.

"It should be noted that you are only banned from Citadel Space. Anywhere else is free to you, should they have you of course." said Tevos.

"Thank you for your consideration. The Reaper corpse shall remain on Shanxi should you wish to study it with us. Good day, we will contact you later."

And like that the screen faded.

"Well, this is turning into something unwanted. Should Blacklight be correct on the existence of these Reapers then we may have more on our plate than we have ever wanted to deal with." said Jobol.

"Such is the life of a politician. Now then, assuming this is true, does anyone have any idea on how we are going to explain this to the public?" asked Sparatus.

Sparatus found the room became uncomfortably quiet.

Mordin stood still at the docks as he watched various C-sec guards cleaning up the mess. The damage was extensive. Lamps of an Asari design were toppled over, power lines had been torn down, and hung every which way from the ceilings. Sparks sputtered from them occasionally, but rarely enough to be any cause for concern. Not to mention that there was ash everywhere. Like a great roaring fire had lit everything ablaze. The fires had been put out long ago, but the evidence of their existence was clearly visible. Scorch marks adorned the walls, floor, and even ceilings. Filling the air with the bitter scent of smoke. Debris and scrap had been piled up in areas away from the busy traffic of the Citadel. Engineers and workers attempted to salvage what they could for repairs, but it was obvious to Mordin that it was slow going. No one really knew much about the designs of the Citadel. The only reason things were progressing as fast as they were was due to the Keepers. There were many scientists, Engineers, and conspiracy theorists who desired to know where it was the enigmatic Keepers managed to get the supplies necessary to make repairs to the Citadel when needed. All of them were far from successful from figuring out that age old question. Mordin always thought it was strange that the Keepers made learning the design of the Citadel unnecessary, and the few who attempted to do just that were always unsuccessful for various reasons.

Mordins eyes traveled from the debris to the injured civilians who lined up in rows as Doctors ran around in a chaotic rush to get to as many of the patients as possible. Many of the patients looked like they had gone through hell, and the damage done to the station made it look like they had been through just that. It was a terrifying thought the damage Blacklight could impose if it really wanted too. They were a monstrously overspecialized super organism with adaptational capabilities far beyond any known life form in the cosmos. Still, he found it hard to fault them even after what he seen. There was something about how the mindless Biomass squirmed in pain and anguish during their Rampancy, if that even truly what it was, since it didn't mesh well with the descriptions Blacklight informed him of their initial Rampancy. Mordin could only imagine what that must have been like for the humans that once lived before being consumed into the amorphous hungry flesh of a hungry wall of expanding flesh.

Mordin stood with his arms cross near the chosen ship, one of many specialized STG crafts that his uncle often kept seemingly abandoned all around the Galaxy when needed. They were hardly a secret. Many of these crafts existed across the various stations and planets of the cosmos. Everyone knew what they were, and who used them. Of course that wasn't due to lax methods in keeping them secret. No it was because the STG didn't think their existence needed to be kept secret. It wasn't like they ever held anything classified for very long. They were almost impossible to enter without knowing the proper methods to do so. Even assuming one could get in, the Flight Computer was designed to be modular. When not in use it would be removed and delivered to wherever it needed to be, scrubbed of all content before a blank one was put back in it's place.

What was far less known about these ships was that each and every one was rigged to explode if needed. Nothing too powerful, just a large enough explosion to destroy the ship and any cargo it may contain. Mordin also knew that he was at the moment standing not ten feet away from what most likely was an actual sample of Blacklight itself.

Mordin could only hazard to guess what his uncle planned to do with it. Mordin never liked Jobol. He knew the man was ambitious to a fault. He was always thinking, and never was it anything good. The few times Mordin actually spoke to his uncle, the man would talk often on his desires to be remembered. To build and create a legacy for the history books to remember him by. The manner of his speech made it very clear he would do anything to be remembered.

Mordin was drawn out of his thoughts when he saw a fidgety Salarian make his way to him. Mordin couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the man that was just a bit off.

"Dr. Saleon I presume.", asked Mordin.

"Yes, I understand you're escorting me somewhere.", said Saleon.

Mordin found the man's lack of knowledge on where he was going rather disturbing. If this man was, as Mordin presumed, the one to work on an actual sample of Blacklight he would expect the man to at least know what he was getting in to.

Seeing as he did not, Mordin could only assume this man had done something that Jobol could use against him, and if Jobol was willing to go that far then the man must be brilliant if nothing else.

However after that initial observation, Mordin noticed small signs on Saleon. Signs that illuminated what was off about the man. While he outwardly appeared timid and nervous, there were no physiological signs of it. His skin was a healthy shade, as opposed to flush like most Salarians would have when nervous. In addition there were no dilated pupils to indicate his mannerisms were true. Finally there were the twitches. While the Salarian did twitch at random, the movement of it was all wrong. Almost as if it were a conscious action as opposed to an involuntary one. Nothing that matched what Mordin was seeing, which was a tell tale sign of a sociopath who tried to outwardly appear nervous.

"Indeed, I am Dr. Mordin Solus. I will be escorting you to a research station. I would explain more but we had better hurry wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose so, lets just leave now before... never mind.", said Saleon as he made his way into the ship.

Mordin took a deep breath.

"Implications, not good.", he said to himself as he also made his way into the ship.