Interesting Times

October 19th, 2169

15:38 SET

Citadel, Abera-Ward

Ad Astra Citadel HQ

"What did you say?" I asked through clenched teeth.

My irritation must have shown on my face since Amita Das, one of my employees who keep in contact with the Alliance took a nervous step back. Furthermore, I noticed how she paled in the face of my anger.

"It's as I said, Sir," responded Amita after a second collecting herself. "The Alliance is going to pull back their patrols at the border to the Skyllian Verge. There are some concerns that a military presence in that part is going to provoke the Batarians unnecessarily."

"And coincidentally, our mining operations in that sector have come under attack by pirates the moment the patrols were called back. Nobody can convince me that this was just a coincidence," I spat.

The mining location itself was fine. The ships protecting it, while not as powerful as those I sold to the Alliance, were still enough to fight off any pirate attack.

Yet, that couldn't prevent the ships transporting the mined materials from coming under attack. They had just jumped into a system that would have been normally in the range of an Alliance patrol fleet, but thanks to them pulling back, the transporters had been an easy target for anyone.

I lost three transporters and two escort ships, over a hundred people died in the attack, and the stolen materials valued around a few hundred million credits.

Is it any surprise that I was pissed when I heard about it?

"My contact says the Alliance regrets that the incident happened but can't do much without provoking the Batarians," Amita continued.

"Empty platitudes," I growled. "While the Batarians claim that this part of the Skyllian Verge belongs to them, the Council hasn't decided anything. Any move that is intended to avoid confrontation with the Batarians will be seen as weakness. The Alliance knows that, so the only thing that could be responsible for this situation is that someone was bribed with enough money to ignore any possible political fallout."

I turned away from Amita and towards my office window, taking in the sight of the Abera-Ward. The view from my office always helped me to calm down somewhat. Making any decision while overly emotional was always a bad idea but sometimes unavoidable. Just like right now.

I knew I shouldn't be petty and take out my anger on the rest of the Alliance, but perhaps I had to remind a few people of what could happen when I was angry.

When I turned back toward Amita, I saw how Luo Abercroft, a senior lawyer on my legal team, moved closer to my desk with a datapad in his hand. He was here to remind me of every move we could make without violating any law or contract.

"We will have to close the mining location. If the Alliance is unwilling to patrol that area of space, then we have no other choice. I won't risk any of my employees for a single mine, no matter how profitable it is."

I stopped for a moment, a thought coming to my mind.

"Were the families of those killed in the attack contacted?" I asked Luo.

He nodded and responded calmly: "Every family was contacted, and informed about our insurance policy. The first round of payment has already happened. And if I may add, in a conversation with a member of our PR department, I was told that our popularity ratings rose by five points after the fact."

"Good, good," I said more to myself than Luo.

Since the beginning, I had been of the opinion that every company that wanted to rise to the top should look after its employees. From the bottom to the top, nobody should feel left out.

After all, good PR doesn't start with the satisfaction of the consumer and buyer but with the workers. They would tell their family and friends, who would also tell others, creating an endless web of cost-free advertisements.

Furthermore, happy workers meant that their productivity was high as well, and if they had any ideas about how they could improve their work, they would come to us with their ideas first instead of offering them on the free market.

If someone started to crunch the numbers, he would probably find that Ad Astra's market value rose by 10%, thanks to the ideas of its employees.

And Ad Astra's insurance policy was just another method to bind its employees to the company and keep them happy.

If any employee got hurt or even killed during his work for Ad Astray would receive a stipend that was almost like a pension. The amount that would be paid rose with every child of school age.

Through this, we created a strong connection with our workforce.

Ever since I implemented those methods, there had been only a few union strikes during the last few years, and every time there had been one, I personally flew out to meet with the concerned parties.

I could have left those in the hands of my highly trained -and highly paid- mediators, but the impact of me being there was too meaningful to ignore.

The Big Boss himself coming to hear the concerns of the little man? To listen to them? To discuss and negotiate with them, and not just to put them under his heel and crush them?

You couldn't ask for better PR.

And every time I involved myself in those issues, the pedestal they put me on rose higher and higher.

Furthermore, my reputation as a man of honor and integrity, one who didn't forget the little people, was spreading among the lower and middle class.

For now, that may be not important, but when the position of ambassador opened, it could become a game changer.

While the Alliance government could nominate someone for the position of ambassador, due to the influence and powers the position needed to be effective, the parliament had to acknowledge the nominee in the position with a vote of 60% in his favor.

I was sure I could convince enough of the parliament members to vote in my favor but making the consequences of not doing so unfavorably for the representatives was a nice incentive.

After all, in the end, they would have to answer their constituents why they didn't choose me, and since most of the colonial population were low and middle-class citizens...

Let's just say their reelection would take a lot of work on their side.

"So what should I tell my Alliance contact, Sir?"

Amita's words interrupted my thoughts and brought me back to the here and now.

"How many months until we're over the deadline for the newest batch of cruisers and frigates for the Alliance?" I asked Luo instead of giving Amita an answer.

Luo took a moment to open the necessary documents on his datapad, and after he scanned them for the correct information, he said: "The deadline for the frigates is around four months and for the cruisers approximately six. Of course, the fines for overstepping the timelimit are higher for the cruisers, but I wouldn't be able to tell you how far along they are. For that, you would have to talk with the respective project managers, Mr. Denebren."

"Thank you, Luo," I said and turned back towards Amita to give her my answer to her question.

"Amita, you will have to tell your Alliance contact that many of our shipbuilding efforts could face delays up to nine months."

Luo rose an eyebrow at that, probably already calculating the number of fines we would have to pay if I went through with my threat.

On the other hand, Amita's shock at my answer was written on her face, but she quickly got her emotions under control and displayed only calmness.

"It's a sad thing," I shook my head ruefully, and from the corner of my eyes, I could see how Luo rolled his eyes at my acting, "but without the mine at the border, we will have some material bottlenecks to overcome. After all, I can't send my employees into areas of space where there is a clear danger to their lives with a clear conscience. It will take some time until we've found a new location to open a mine, and the acquisition of the mining rights for it will take some time too."

I shrugged in a 'What-can-you-do?' way.

"Furthermore, there are still some other clients besides the Alliance, and we have to look after their needs too, and the deadlines for those contracts are close. And the fines we would have to pay if we miss them would be even higher than those of the Alliance. I have to look after my company's well-being first and foremost, after all."

A sly smile hushed over Amita's face when she understood what I was playing at. Everything I just said was the truth... from a certain point of view. It was only natural that we would have some contracts for ships in the private sector, but our deals with the Alliance were our primary money-makers.

There would be some diffusivities in procuring enough materials to finish all orders in time, but it would be possible nonetheless. The only thing we would have to do was to make certain that the deadlines for the next order of ships would be longer so that we could take our time to construct them, or we would have to take fewer contracts.

"I will talk with my contact as soon as possible, Mr. Denebren. It's sad that the circumstances force us to delay the construction projects, but I'm sure that the Alliance will be able to understand our situation," said Amita with a sly smirk of her own. Yet, it disappeared after a moment, and she looked as if she wanted to add something but wasn't sure if she should.

When I noticed her hesitation, I gave her a reassuring smile and said: "I see that you want to tell us something. So, do it."

She took a breath and then started to talk about what was on her mind.

"It's just that one thing I don't understand. How did the pirates know that there would be no Alliance patrols? Or better said, how did they know before us? Furthermore, that leads to the question of why we weren't informed about the fact beforehand. I would like to make some inquiries in that direction. With your permission, of course, Mr. Denebren."

The approving smile on my face helped Amita a lot to lose the tension that had built up while she was talking. All those questions were the right ones to be asked. How exactly did the pirates know? It wouldn't be a surprise if someone in the Alliance informed them about the change in patrols to line their own pockets. Corruption was a problem most governments had, and the Alliance was no different, no matter what some people said. Yet, the fact that we - or better said, I- weren't informed of them, hinted at someone trying to hurt my company, someone with reasonable political influence, since this couldn't have happened without knowing the right people.

Nonetheless, I was of the same opinion as Amita that those questions had to be asked. And they were already asked.

Andrew had given me the contact information of some of his agents that would be trustworthy enough to look into things for me without alerting their superiors as long as they didn't affect their work.

It would probably take a few more weeks until I had a preliminary report, but I suspected some business rival was behind it, trying to take me down a peg or two and get a bigger slice of the cake for himself.

Still, a second person investigating the circumstances that led to the attack, especially from a different angle, could be helpful. Furthermore, it would be a test of Amita's abilities to navigate the political world and to find out who exactly was behind it, so I gave her my permission, and with an incline of her head, she left my office.

Closing my eyes, I took a moment to relax.

While Luo still stood next to my desk, ready to continue to the next point on today's agenda, he gave me the time to enjoy the moment of silence.

Most of my day had been full of paperwork that had to be read, signed, and filed.

Not the most stimulating task, but a necessary one.

I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and turned to Luo to ask: "So, how is our progress with 'Project Native Invader'?"

"Right on schedule, Mr. Denebren. We have vetted the potential intermediaries and are currently in the progress of deciding who we're going to approach. On that matter, we've already approached one of the potential intermediaries of group A. Her situation, character, and personal opinion were a perfect match for our outlined criteria. Furthermore, she decided to sign the contract almost immediately. Perhaps we underestimated her desire to get back at the people who hurt her, but from what I could tell, she will be a valuable ally," answered Luo, his face showing no emotion as if it was made out of stone.

In contrast, I couldn't help the smile blossoming on my face.

"Wonderful," I exclaimed. "If you think she is what we were looking for then I'm going to trust you with this. There is no reason for me to involve myself in the project more than I already am. Still, I would like you to continue to approach people from group A. It would be foolish to bet everything on one card, no matter how good she is."

"That was already the plan, Mr. Denebren," assured Luo without changing his expression or tone, but somehow I could feel that he was a bit affronted that I thought he wouldn't do this by himself.

"Just saying," I assuaged him. "You have my complete trust to continue and lead the project as you want."

"Of course, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Is there anything else that needs my attention?" I asked, hoping there was something to discuss that would help me to avoid the paperwork for just a moment longer.

"Only a few more documents that need your signature. Nothing out of the ordinary. I will send them up when I get back to my office."

So, not only wouldn't I be able to avoid doing my paperwork any longer, but the mountain of it would get higher, too.

My dejected look must have amused him because I could swear that the edges of his mouth turned slightly upwards as I dismissed him with a hand gesture and a sigh.

Just as Luo was about to leave the room, I called after him.

"When go by Catherine, could you please tell her that she tells Captain Reveilleur from Internal Security to come up here? I have some things to discuss with him."

Luo turned his head back to me and nodded before the door closed behind him.

It would take some time until Captain Reveilleur arrived, so I continued with my paperwork.

No matter how tedious it was, it was important to keep the company running. Especially since among the paperwork were some application forms that I had to sign for the team responsible for our skycar business here on the Citadel.

I delegated the skycar business to others so that I would have enough time for other projects, but my signature was still needed for this and other projects. Thanks to this, my teams and departments could work mostly independently with minimal oversight from me.

In regards to the skycars, it hasn't become the success I had expected. Perhaps it was because the cost of constructing and selling them was still higher than importing them from Asari businesses in Citadel space.

Furthermore, while I had expected that our skycars wouldn't be popular with the working class and parts of the middle-class citizens due to their higher prices, I had been mildly disappointed that even the upper-class preferred the Asari-built skycars.

Perhaps it was the novelty of owning a skycar built by aliens, but the people in charge were sure that the trend would reverse in time.

Besides, they were hopeful that they would have more success with selling them to a market that was flooded with the standard models. The fact that we would introduce several, sometimes radical, different designs which looked and drove differently from what the Citadel species were used to.

Yet, that would take time. The bureaucracy of the Citadel was slow, but I was sure our applications would come through. And this time without any interference. Everyone involved in the skycar business from the Citadel side of things was convinced that the existing design couldn't be improved on or substituted by our models, but that wasn't our goal at all, so it was unnecessary to worry.

As absorbed in my work as I was, I didn't hear that someone was knocking on my door the first time, but when the second knock came, louder than the one before, I was startled. I hadn't noticed how much time had passed and that Captain Reveilleur was probably standing in front of my office door, waiting to be let in.

"Enter!" I barked out while organizing my desk and putting the paperwork to the side.

The door opened, and a man in his late thirties entered. He had short, cropped red hair and light blue eyes. His face seemed as if it was set in a slight frown, and multiple scars spoke of a hard life.

The way he walked into my office spoke of a previous military career, and his uniform, the standard uniform of the Ad Astra security forces with additional markings announcing his rank, looked pristine.

Captain Reveilleur stopped two steps away from my desk, his feet shoulder wide apart and his hands clasped behind his back.

"Captain Reveilleur reports for duty, sir," he announced with a grave voice.

"Thank you for coming, Captain. Would you like to sit down?" I asked and pointed to one of the two chairs in front of my desk.

"No, thank you, sir," denied Reveilleur with a shake of his head. "I prefer to stand if it doesn't bother you, sir."

One could tell from his behavior that this man had been a soldier, every little thing of his being practically screamed it out into the world. Yet, he had been dishonorably discharged by the Alliance for "conduct, unbecoming for an officer of the Alliance Marine Corps". As far as I could find out, it was more about his zealously protecting humanity's territory than anything else. Be it human or alien pirates, slavers, or criminals, anyone hurting humanity and the Alliance was hunted down and terminated with extreme prejudice. He was a hunter and just the man I needed.

"I'm sure that you have heard what happened to our mining operation, or more specifically, to the transporters. Am I correct?" I asked while looking him in his eyes.

I could see how they lost the little warmth that had been there before, hidden behind years of practice and experience. If someone were asked to describe them now, they would say they resembled blocks of ice with how cold they seemed.

"I did," growled Reveilleur, his voice dropping an octave. Honestly, he sounded more like a beast ready to maul its enemies than a man.

"Good," I said, pleased that I wouldn't have to explain the situation to him. "I have a job for you."

"I guess it has something to do with the pirates that raided our transports?"

"It has," I confirmed. "I want you to assemble a team of your choosing. Those pirates will be found, and" my voice turned icy "made an example. I don't want to let this scum think that they can attack my company, kill my men, and walk away from it scot-free."

I stood up from my chair, my face changing into an expression that would have sent a lesser man running to the hills. My hands gripped the edges of my desk hard enough that my knuckles turned white, and I leaned slightly forward over my desk.

"I want the rest of these pirate and slaver scum to understand that they shouldn't think twice, not thrice, but never of attacking me and mine ever again lest they end as this group will. Do you understand, Captain Reveilleur?"

The spine of the captain had apparently changed from bone to steel with how straight he stood in the middle of my office, but I could see how a small bloodthirsty smile appeared on his face.

"Of course, sir. When I'm done with them, they will become something that will be only spoken of in hushed tones. When do I begin?" he asked, eager to begin his hunt.

"Now," I answered shortly. "I want an action plan by the end of the week. Who you're going to add to your team, what equipment you need, and what ship you want. Designate it as -Operation Firebird-, and it will end up on my desk without anyone having to look it over beforehand. Officially, you will be part of the protection detail while we deconstruct our mining facilities in the area, so you will have an excuse ready for your presence there. And if you so happen to bump into those pirates, I expect you to act in the company's best interests."

"Yes, sir," responded Reveilleur while saluting. "I will have everything ready by the day after tomorrow. There are more than enough people in our security forces that would like to have the opportunity to strike back at those pirates."

"Nonetheless, if you're able to, I want you to keep this on the down low," I cautioned. "I want rumors to spread among their community, but if it's possible, I want to be able to deny our involvement. And if that's not possible, I want you to make it look like you bumped into them by chance."

While acting openly wouldn't be a disaster, it would invite unnecessary attention, and I would probably have to allow inspectors to make sure that my security forces didn't violate any laws regarding the creation of personal armies. On the other hand, it would most certainly bind my employees even tighter to my company when they learned that even in the situation where we couldn't protect them, we would avenge the fallen and make sure that the perpetrators couldn't hurt anybody ever again.

Still, rumors in that direction would be almost as effective without any negative repercussions. Furthermore, it would probably help to elevate my reputation in certain circles outside Alliance territory.

"We will do our best, sir. But I have to ask to be certain, what are our ROE?" asked Reveilleur.

"Extrem prejudice," I answered coldly. "As I said, I want them to be an example of what happens if anyone out there on the wrong side of the law dares to cross me."

"It will be done, sir. I will make certain of it," he respnded with a determination in his voice that could and would move mountains.

"Then get to work, Captain. Dismissed."

Captain Revilleur saluted once more, and turned on his feet in a perfect 180-degree turn, marching out of my office.

I slowly sat back down on my office chair, the adrenalin that had pumped through my veins leaving me, adding to my exhaustion.

Perhaps it was the act of ordering the death of people I didn't even know that left me so exhausted, but it had to be done. If my enemies started to employ such tactics, it would only be right if I did so too.

Logically, I knew that this wouldn't be the last time I would have to do so, but previously I had been satisfied with ruining my enemies' lives in a matter that made them outcasts of society. Perhaps my method was even crueler than simply killing them since I forced them to live the rest of their lives without any money or reputation that they previously enjoyed, but somehow the act of ordering someone's death was completely different.

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to calm my rapidly beating heart.

The more I thought about it, the harder my resolve got. I would employ such tactics in the future when necessary.

If I wanted to, I could probably excuse my actions that it would be for the greater good since everything I did was to strengthen my power base. So that I could affect real change when I got into a position where I could truly start to prepare the galaxy for the arrival of the Reapers.

Yet, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, the Reapers were only part of my reason. The galaxy was a merciless place for those that couldn't be ruthless, especially for those trying to climb the mountain of power, and I wanted to stand at the very top of this mountain.

I learned something about myself over all these years after my memories of this universe returned to me.

I love power and the influence that comes with it. I enjoy the circumstance that I can buy everything I want. And I was definitely addicted to the adoration that many people showed towards me.

Was I an awful person? Did I become a person my previous self wouldn't recognize? To all those questions, I had only one answer. Perhaps.

I would continue to live as I wanted and let the coming generations decide what type of person I was.

But to ensure that there would be future generations, I had to make sure that the Reapers were defeated.

Maybe it was time for me to think about how I could slowly start to prepare the rest of the galaxy to accept the possibility that the Reapers even existed.

But I would have to think about this later in my apartment because for now, there was still enough paperwork to take up the rest of my workday.