The Ship Moves. The Reapers draw closer. Mad science is occurring throughout the galaxy. Time and space are being twisted in bent in ways man was never meant to control. And Khar'shan is burning. In summary, everything's going straight to hell.
Just the way I like it!
This wasn't what I intended to put up for this chapter, but Commander-y stuff is kicking my ass because I'm a terrible impulsive writer and can't stick to my plans for five seconds without doing something stupid. So have an Interlude instead.
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104 - Interlude: Overthrown
Special Intervention Unit Chief Executive Torvan Kurloz was having what one might call a terrible day. The Hegemony's High Council had finally decided that the Batarian Separatist advance through Hegemony space was unacceptable and needed to be stopped, and as head of the SIU he'd been receiving his share of flak for not having preemptively dealt with the problem.
The fact that the only warning the SIU ever got of an attack came fifteen minutes after the Separatists claimed the target as their own apparently meant nothing to the council.
Kurloz couldn't quite bring himself to care about that particular issue, though. With the Terkat Plan in place and his most trustworthy agents in position, the Batarian Revolution would be coming to a close, one way or another, very soon.
Perhaps, if the Separatists and their Human sponsors kept to the schedule, as soon as the end of the month.
He sighed as he digitally signed and passed on another set of orders for his field teams - more dead-end spy work in corvettes in far orbit around Verush. As if that would provide any kind of advanced notice of the Separatist fleet's arrival.
The comlink mounted into his desk began buzzing. Sliding the haptic display to one side, he activated the commlink, bringing up a video feed. A familiar face appeared on screen.
"Ah, Agent Drahki. Report?"
"Affirmative, sir," the SIU agent began. "My team is in position. The High Councilman, his family, and his consorts have taken residence in their bunker. We've asked them to remain here until further notice."
"Good, good. What of the other ministers of the ruling council?"
"Split up, sir. Many returned to their own homes to seek shelter there. All have been assigned SIU agents."
"Picked from the Shortlist?"
The Shortlist was a list of handpicked agents, personally vetted by Kurloz himself. He had assured the absolute loyalty and trustworthiness of each one individually.
After all, he thought bitterly,
in this time of turmoil… you have to know who you can trust.
"Of course, sir. As long as the situation remains stable, we should manage with our available assets."
"Good, good. Miralka's Regional Council sought shelter in the Council Hall together, and I have many agents I can spare, but I am glad I will not need to."
Drahki nodded sharply. "Thank you, sir. The only one not currently seeking shelter is Minister Profka, sir. Three agents have been assigned to guard him in his office, alongside his own two bodyguards."
"Will they be an issue?"
Agent Drahki glanced away from the camera, turning his eyes to something off screen momentarily. "Yes, sir, all the ministers have their bodyguards with them. With our agents assisting, I'm confident in the security of the High Council."
Kurloz paused for a moment, a slight smile creeping onto his face before he nodded. "Very well. Report back if the situation changes."
"Understood, sir. Agent Drahki signing out."
The commlink line fell silent, and Kurloz waved it away, sliding the haptic display back to the centre of his desk. He barely had time to put finger to screen, however, before his commlink began buzzing urgently, a red light flashing above his desk. The document open on his screen was drowned out by several dozen flashing warning notifications.
Sliding the screen away again, he tapped the commlink. A panicked Batarian in an admiral's uniform appeared on screen, face flushed green. "SIR! The enemy fleet just pushed through Verush. All defending ships were destroyed. Most of the fleet remained at Verush, but a cruiser group is moving towards us. What should we do?"
Kurloz felt an overwhelming urge to slam his palm into his face and scream. The Hegemony had lost so many admirals in their pointless war against the Separatists that the leader of Khar'shan's own defence fleet was a complete novice who'd probably bought the post with family slaves.
Then again, so did all the other admirals. They just had a bit of experience
being useless kriffing morons.
Realizing the admiral wasn't going to leave him without some form of order, Kurloz snapped, "rally the defensive fleet, and focus all fire on the lead cruiser. They're powerful, but we outnumber them a dozen to one, and a single ship couldn't hope to withstand that many hits. Just keep the fleet on target, and you'll be fine."
The Admiral nodded. "Understood, sir. Admiral Kruepp, out."
Kurloz chuckled as the naive admiral hung up. Kurloz didn't expect the admiral to win the battle - not because of his incompetence… not
solely because of his incompetence, but rather because the Hegemony hadn't scraped a single win from the war since the Humans got involved and he doubted they would start now. Kruepp would undoubtedly be leading his fleet to either an untimely demise or an embarrassing capture at the hands of their somewhat unpredictable enemies.
Regrettable, but necessary.
Still ignoring the flashing notifications on his main screen, Kurloz bought up the commlink's menu, and sent out a general broadcast. "Attention, all Terkat operators. The Terkat plan is now in effect. Initiate stage one and report in when ready."
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High Councilman and Public Relations Minister Tryak Profka was having what one might call a terrible day. The Hegemony's public was slowly becoming more and more aware of how badly the war was going, despite his best efforts to find and plug the leaks. The rest of the council was only now listening to his requests to treat the Separatists like an actual threat, and his private starship had been requisitioned by the SIU for long-range spy missions.
They hadn't even given him a chance to clean his computer of any sensitive files - and he doubted the password system would protect his files if the SIU ever did want to get at them, which they certainly would.
Executive Kurloz had always seemed suspicious to him. Too eager to assist, too appreciative of the Hegemony. Even as the Public Relations Minister, he had a hard time believing anyone could love the Hegemony that much. Kurloz' devotion bordered on the delusional, a clear sign of his traitorous intent.
His suspicions were validated when the three SIU agents assigned to his protection turned around and shot his bodyguards, gunning them down and spraying the walls with red blood and brain matter immediately after receiving a message from Kurloz to initiate the 'Terkat plan'.
He'd always suspected that Kurloz was a traitorous scumbag, and it gladdened him to see he had been right.
Up until his SIU bodyguards shot him, too.
At that point, he was a little too dead to be smug about it.
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Special Intervention Unit Strike Enforcer Murak Prakan was having what one might call an excellent day.
According to public perception, the Special Intervention Unit was the Hegemony's most elite force - picked from the best of the best, they were the most skillful and most loyal soldiers the Hegemony possessed, equipped with the best equipment money could buy.
Most of those rumours were true, if somewhat exaggerated. Save for the last. Until recently, that particular rumour had been a blatant falsehood. The Hegemony's elite forces would never be caught
dead in armour produced outside the Hegemony.
With the Separatist Revolution growing rapidly out of control, and the Separatists acquiring a technological edge through their Human contacts, relying on Batarian State Arms equipment had quickly become a foolish choice.
And whilst many of the Hegemony's military forces refused to acknowledge that and seek alternatives, Executive Kurloz had taken the not-insignificant SIU budget and used it in a more reasonable fashion.
GLN Outfitters had been entirely too happy to throw together a couple of hundred Sheriff-class Combat Suits for their use. Rattler Assault Cannons and Longarm Rifles, too. And whilst the shipment had arrived too late for the suits to be sent to the various agents spread across Khar'shan, those stationed closer to home had been in luck.
The SIU Command Centre had been receiving and sending out shuttles all day as every agent within an hour's flight distance had rushed back for their new equipment. Agent Prakan himself had only completed the calibration routine just moments before the alarm was sounded, and the planet promptly dissolved into chaos.
Agent Prakan couldn't have been happier with the new armour. Already it had saved him probably half a dozen times in situations where his older hardsuit wouldn't have. Rocket fire, collapsing debris, dangerous proximity to grenades and plain old bullets that would have outright ended him were for the most part just shrugged off by the exotic Terminus armour.
Turns out, the more conventionally loyal SIU agents weren't particularly happy with Kurloz and his decision to cut ties with the monumentally stupid reigning government, and they saw everyone who sided with him, and by extension everyone who was part of the Terkat Plan, as a traitor.
Which was, Agent Prakan mused, technically true.
But they also had a much better chance of surviving the Separatist takeover without being dragged into the street and having their eyes gouged out via rusty bayonet, so he considered that a win in the long run.
The guns weren't half bad either. For all that the Batarian State Arms representatives and their weasly little Quarian workers had yapped on and on about the new powered hardsuits, the Rattler cradled in his arms was tearing through them without any particular issue.
As the whimpering of dying men faded away, and one last fateful shot rang out, one of Prakan's colleagues further down the hallway contacted him. "Prakan, corridor up ahead is clear. Executive Kurloz and his team are on their way down from the ninth. Should we meet up with them at the main lift or head straight for the landing pad?"
Prakan considered that for a moment. "Any loyalists still hanging around here won't pose a threat to Kurloz and his group. Pull back, and we'll move out and meet them at the rendezvous as ordered."
"Understood."
The bulky form of his colleague turned and made his way back down the corridor into the seventh floor recreation room where Prakan was waiting, rifle tucked against his shoulder.
Outside, the sound of atmospheric starship engines grew from a distant humming to an overwhelming roar, and the room darkened as one of the Faith Foundation's frigates sailed past the tower no more than a dozen metres from the window, beams of orange light lashing out in all directions, striking down Batarian tanks and aircraft and presumably whatever else was dumb enough to poke out of cover when a goddamn
frigate came in for some fly-by close air support.
As the frigate slid out of sight, moving off to linger over a different sector of the city, his communicator began buzzing with a priority message.
"This is Executive Kurloz to all Terkat operators. Be advised, Separatist advanced units are
not responding to parley, but they are willing to ignore contained non-hostiles. Ignore previous orders, bunker down wherever you can, seal yourself in, and wait until the Seppies arrive. Do
not engage them. Kurloz, out."
Prakan turned to his partner. "What do you make of that, Krubbek?"
"Seems awful specific for field observations," Krubbek pointed out. "I think Kurloz might be plannin' this one with an insider, know what I mean?"
Prakan tilted his head, conceding the point. "Perhaps. Guess we'd better fall back to the emergency bunker, then?"
Krubbek nodded and gestured to a door on the far side of the room with his rifle. "Service elevator in the satellite uplink room can take us straight to ground floor. Let's go."
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State Enforcement Chief Burraka Sanis was having what one might call a terrible day. Separatists had finally arrived in the Harsa system. The Verush shipyards were all either captured, aflame, or already rent into rubble. The Khar'shan Defence Fleet, what little of it was left, had been utterly embarrased in orbit. Two Dreadnoughts outright destroyed, a third crippled and en route to crash into Khar'shan's ocean, the rest of the fleet little more than dust and echoes.
Separatist advance forces, their damnable combat drones that made even GLN Sentries look like glorified children's toys, were swarming through every city on the planet. Their heavy support walkers were blasting apart fortifications and armoured convoys and shrugging off everything thrown their way. The six-legged wall-climbers hung from towers and arches and temples and every other high-up place they could find, their lasers wreaking havoc on everything that dared lift even slightly off the ground.
He'd even heard, before the long range comms had been completely obliterated, that one of the frigate battlegroups had descended from orbit and split up, providing close air support in the major theaters of combat.
Not that the Separatists really needed it - based on their performance so far, Sanis doubted that even Khar'shan, the seat of Hegemony power, could hold out longer than a couple of hours.
And even that, he thought, was optimistic.
His entire force of militiamen and law enforcers had been killed, most wiped out alongside their barracks by way of orbital strike and the stragglers picked off by combat robots whenever they tried to rally. The local military hadn't fared any better, the SIU commandos burying themselves in one of their bunkers whilst their comrades fought and died against the invaders, the streets running red with the spilt blood of soldiers and unlucky civilians both.
Locked away in his command room, he and his most immediate subordinates could only watch in terror as the cameras in the city began winking out one by one, the Separatists unstoppable robot armies drawing closer and closer to his place of refuge.
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The two agents met up with another Terkat operator on the third floor, one who'd had the same idea about the service elevators. After a brief standoff, the agents had recognized the distinctive bulk of their new armour and stood down.
"Werrka, Dissident Intelligence," their new ally said by way of introduction as he stepped onto the lift. "Hope you two are more comfortable with this armour than I am."
"Prakan, Strike Enforcer." Nodding at his partner, he continued, "Krubbek, same unit. Just stay behind us."
Werrka nodded stiffly, clearly uncomfortable in the bulky armour. "Affirmative."
The three continued riding the service elevator down to the ground floor in silence, stepping out with guns raised as the platform stopped and the doors slid open.
They made it through almost the entirety of the mission control room before they encountered opposition. Three loyalists, two in hardsuits and one more in officer's uniform, spotted them from behind a barricade of overturned desks and wasted no time in opening fire, two moving aside to take cover. The third stood defiantly, blasting away with a Krogan heavy repeater that barely scratched Prakan's armour even as he levelled his own heavy weapon and opened fire in return.
The agent dumb enough to stay standing began writhing like a sheetlurker in strong winds as the Rattler emptied into his torso, red blood spurting from his wounds front and rear, covering the floor.
After a couple of seconds of sustained fire, Prakan turned his hefty rifle to the two cowering behind the closest overturned desk. The mass accelerator rounds pelted against the table like rain on sheet metal only a thousand times more intense, filling the room with a thunderous cascade of sound.
And then Krubbek rolled a grenade along the floor - not fancy GLN tech, just a good old BSA polonium-frag grenade, - and the fate of the loyalists was sealed - move, and be gunned down, or stay behind cover, and be torn to shreds.
Apparently, both chose the latter option, and the grenade exploded, shrapnel pinging off the walls and ceiling. A pool of red blood began seeping from behind the desk. Werrka pointedly turned away.
A squeamish SIU agent. Don't see that every day.
Prakan heard Krubbek sigh over the comms. "Idiots. Can't believe they could be so blind… it's for the best, though… right?"
He remembered what Kurloz had told him months and months ago, when the Terkat Plan was first being written up, about the Separatists' plans to make a new Batarian government, and restore the Batarians to a position of galactic prominence once again. At the time, their claims of ending the caste system and abolishing slavery had seemed like such naive and unattainable goals.
Now Khar'shan was burning, and those ideals were becoming closer and closer to fruition.
Prakan slung his Rattler back over one shoulder, still uncertain. "Yes," he said at last. "It is."
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To have invisitext here, or not to have invisitext here? Wasn't going to but accidentally copied too much blank space from the bottom of GDocs, and now Im starting to think I might as well put something here anyway. Hm hm hm.
