NOW.
"The Citadel Voice.
...The ongoing uncertainty with the planet Helghan is affecting the stock exchanges with a dynamic that defies explanation. Reports of a planet with rich deposits, a large population, its own army and navy, and, most importantly, has emerged literally from the vacuum of space have caused panic among mineral traders.
However, stock exchange charts now show relatively stable indicators - without sharp jumps and collapse of prices for certain mineral resources. The Citadel Council does not comment on the situation. Still, experts say that this indicates the beginning of the negotiation process and the establishment of trade.
However, the political status of this planet has yet to be quite clear.
Recall that a little over a month ago, an entire star system of one star and three planets replaced the Eye II system (which consisted of one star and one planet) in the Lama star cluster, the Skillian Limit.
Alliance Intelligence, whose sphere includes this cluster, found as many as three new planets there instead of the familiar one, and one inhabited...
"Alliance News.
...This fact shows that we know little about the universe's structure. From the loud information leak, it became known that we were discussing the violation of space and time.
Currently, scientists - mathematicians, physicists, astronomers - are trying to find an explanation for this phenomenon. Unfortunately, the Helghan government - or Emperor Skolar Vizari - is extremely reluctant to cooperate.
Moreover, several times Alliance ships entering the system have been intercepted by the Hellgan fleet. And three days ago, one of the Hellgan ships even opened fire - though not on an Alliance ship, but on an asteroid nearby..."
"Hellgan News.
The continued activity of the so-called Alliance is calling into question the arrangements made a month ago.
Hellgan has permitted cargo ships to be guided through the system using SSDs. Still, increasingly these ships are approaching Hellgan and two other planets in the system at unnecessarily close distances and switching to pre-light engines. After that, the fleet picks up radar activity to determine the system's defence structure.
Still, Hellgan is true to his word.
Two days ago, the Citadel's first transport ship unloaded at the Shipyard, after which it took on board the first trial shipment of minerals (mostly iridium and platinum) and products from Stahl and Visari. However, from a political point of view, the Systems Alliance almost demands a report from the Hellgan authorities, arguing that the Scylian Limit is an Alliance space.
We will allow the head of the newly formed Ministry of Interplanetary Relations, Jorgan Stahl, to be quoted:
"I understand the Alliance's concern about the current situation. The Skillian Limit is indeed Alliance space.
However, Hellgan is an independent planet in its own right. Attempts to argue for such actions with this undoubtedly true fact are met with another immutable fact: the intervention of impossible circumstances neither by us, Alyas, the Citadel, or any other political force in the Galaxy.
Force Majeure is "insurmountable circumstances." This legal term describes the situation as best as possible..."
***
ONE MONTH AGO.
The mission on Hellgan lasted a full week.
Jane had learnt some very important things about the planet and its inhabitants like Hellgans are pretty damn unsociable.
On their way back, the Visari came out to escort them personally. Only to the armoured personnel carrier, of course:
- Unfortunately, I have too much to do, or I'd happily walk you to the ramp.
Jane pondered to the Adriatic whether it was a courtesy or an insult.
"Or both..."
Things were extremely complicated with this politician.....
Daily long meetings with Vizari, where Captain Anderson tried in vain to prove to the stubborn man that joining the Alliance of Systems was really a way out, and the demand for a separate representation for Hellgazers in the Citadel was bordering on fantasy, gave a lot to the Alliance officers.
True, not in the area of information about the planet or its history - here, things still needed to be more specific.
Skolar Vizari explained to David, who was used to communicating with Donnel Udina that all politicians should not be considered the same.
- What do you think would happen if you put Udina and Vizari at the table? - The officers travelled back alone, the guards having dispersed to the other two escort cars so that Shepard and Anderson could quietly exchange views.
Leira, the Azari diplomat, was sitting in the corner, typing something on her tablet. Jane didn't know the details, but the blue-faced woman looked extremely pleased. As far as she could tell from Anderson's conversation with the girl ("They're all girls, though..."), Hellgan was preparing for a major trade with the Citadel.
- Udina is a whip and a fruit: fidgety and slippery. I'd like to see that meeting! - Anderson snorted. - He reminded me of my N7 programme officer, the instructor. Unlike the NCOs, he was extremely polite and never swore at anyone. Everyone knew he once ripped a Batarian's head off with his bare hands.
- Mm-hmm. That's interesting, but it's different from mission accomplishment. What's next?
- Well," Anderson frowned. - Most likely, the Alliance will try to take him by force: they'll artificially delay all the issues, and they'll try to talk about technical failures of the ships that will be used for deliveries from and to the Citadel.
- But the Citadel has its own fleet?
- Its own fleet is good, but the Alliance can't let anyone into the Scillian Limit, can it? They'll say, "Hire Earthlings," and they'll have constant "engine problems" ...
Anderson sighed sadly:
- He could want anything he wanted. But he can't avoid contact with the Alliance: even if we accept the notion of "force majeure", nobody cancels the notion of security. Who knows who is inside our territory... You can't avoid contacts here!
It's been a week as cloudy as the Hellgan sky...
***
They were given access to the library and the Museum part of the Palace.
The latter was two floors filled with paintings, statues, and old technological devices (mostly models of spaceships and mining machines) on pedestals with explanatory plaques.
Only, to the officers' frustration, all the inscriptions were written in some strange, unreadable font in the Hellgan language. Of course, the translator had partially done the job, but only partially.
Some Old Homeland, some Exodus, War...
Of all the exhibits, Jane remembered most of all the triptych standing in the middle of one of the halls: three statues following each other.
The first was a pedestal with a ring enclosing three interlocked hands.
The material was a light yellow stone, which in the dim rays of the Hellgan light, looked as if it were made of white gold.
The pedestal was made of the same material and looked like a column wrapped in an ornament of foliage and technical symbols: icons of the atomic nucleus, gears, and chain gears.
The second was the same hands, but depicted in a horribly believable sickly way: gaunt, with bones peeking through, covered with some crust.
An unknown sculptor had carved this statue from a different material - beige, in wavy streaks, it gave an even greater sense of decay and death.
The pedestal was perhaps the most gruesome: skulls that looked disgustingly naturalistic, as if some maniac had placed them on each other and glued them together with superglue.
"The hands of such artists would be torn off..."
The third statue was made of black stone, which seemed to absorb the light.
The same ring and three diverging arrows.
Unlike the other sculptures made only of stone, the author also used a white metal trim around the edge, emphasising the borders.
The pedestal was made of the same black stone. It was reminiscent of the Hellgan architecture he had already seen: square, solid, monolithic and reliable.
It resembled some eerie evolution, and Anderson and Jane stared at the composition for a long time, trying to unravel the meaning.
But that was during the day - and towards evening, Shepard and Anderson would come into Visari's office. And another endless conversation would begin.
Anderson would make his arguments, and Visari would develop them and turn them to his advantage.
"That's how - so the War of First Contact? It's sad when civilisations clash over misunderstandings, very sad..."
And the officers were prepared to swear it wasn't about Turians and Earthlings.
"Ah, country governments... I see-I see... We, too, had a government that failed to fulfil its duties properly - well, let's not talk about the sad pages of history!"
Udina seemed a simple-minded fool to Anderson compared to this bald Hellgast. Not having known Donnel personally, Shepard was inclined to trust her captain.
The outcome of their meetings was the same: Hellgan refused diplomatic relations with Earth and was very adamant about it. Such stubbornness couldn't be explained by simple dislike. Still, all attempts to probe deeper ran into the tanned skin of a burned-out politician.
Leira and Leira had seen each other occasionally - the Earthmen had spotted the Azari in the corridors of the Palace several times in the company of a man. Strangely enough, the man boasted blond hair that was luxurious by Hellgazi standards. He also had the smirk of a merchant, ready to heat up a customer at the first opportunity if he needed to show himself to be sufficiently savvy.
Anderson later introduced Shepard to him in person - when he and Anderson studied another painting in the museum. A replica of Earth's Mona Lisa amid model spaceships and old mining equipment looked strange...
- Officers! - Azari nodded affably. Her companion bowed slightly, a gesture that any other person Jane knew would have found funny.
Right now, it felt like she was being laughed at.
- Jorgan Stahl. Head of the newly formed Ministry of Interplanetary Relations. - Hellgast was very different from the monolithic Visari or the silent Radek. There was a thin cigarette smouldering in the corner of his smiling mouth, but no ash was falling down.
Besides, his skin was not grey like the others but simply white: he would even pass for a pale man from a distance, except that his eyes were still the same: dark, with a blood-red glow.
His clothes were austere but with a touch of dandy: thin leather gloves, a tailored coat, and from beneath it, a grey shirt with a tie and a triangle barrette with the letters SA on it, separated by a stylised star.
Intercepting Shepard's gaze, the man smiled an even more devious smile and reported:
- "Before that, I was the head of the Stahl Corporation, and that obscure asterisk is actually a T, but..." Stahl spread his hands. - My ancestor was a much better manager than a designer.
- So... And how old is your... Um... Brand? - Shepherd was curious.
- Hmm... Just before I was born, they celebrated their one-and-a-half-century anniversary. So I have a good chance of celebrating the bicentennial! - Another fake smile.
- We must go, alas. You know, affairs of state.
- I apologise. - Azari and the Helghast moved on. And the officers looked thoughtfully after them...
***
The return journey took much less time: they even managed to record some Hellgast ships that had come to escort them to the system's borders.
- Damn it... They look similar to ours in terms of engine design. Still, the shape is clearly different..." Kipling finished her report. In addition to the image and signatures of the ship, she attached her guesses: "presumably an analogue of a frigate, but not suitable for landing on the planet".
Anderson nodded: the ship, twice the size of the Adriatica, brought them to the system's borders.
A transmitter tuned to the nearest repeater was left on the planet for communications. Anderson instructed a few local technicians on how to use it. He conducted a small examination: judging by how the Hellgast had learnt to use it, something similar was also used for communication here.
***
NOW.
Citadel.
Tevos preferred to communicate freely with her subordinates. She didn't tolerate panic, of course - but if she was assigned another paratrooper from yesterday who was still in the army, she'd start by saying:
- Calm down, not for the landing.
And for the moment, Tevos was drinking Earth tea with Leira.
"In principle, he even redeems the existence of Udina. Almost - redeems..."
- So the transport has arrived. Everything was as agreed - a cargo of platinum, iridium and a small amount of industrial equipment. - Tevos checked her tablet. - 'You can tell Helghan we're interested in items 238 and 123.
Leira marked the items on her tablet: the high-security drills had caught the fancy of engineers and industrialists, and several ships were already preparing to leave for Helghan to negotiate contracts. However, they were unlikely to leave - and the contracts would go through the Azari. However, the Council was not going to cheat the newcomers in any way - it was just that at least one of the so-called entrepreneurs was connected with slave traders. The other owed a large sum to the Bank of the Republic, so his solvency could have been better.
And if he defrauded Hellghast, it is a big question whether they'd distinguish between "Citadel" and "the trader from Citadel space".
- As for points 45 and 34, I'm afraid they're forbidden in Citadel space. Insufficient radiation shielding - he's phoning 9 times higher than he should. Plus, there are analogues with much higher output...
Leira snorted.
The radiation and chemical defences went off when the technicians activated it according to the attached instructions, translated into incorrect and crooked but still readable human English.
The radioactive was the reagents used, which had previously been sealed, and the "chemical contamination" was... Hellgan's Air, which turned out to be sealed inside an airtight container! Tevos had to give an explanation to the outraged Volus who owned those docks.
However, the main thing was not to start laughing - because the Volus, in the middle of the argument, messed up something in the system of his spacesuit and started to swell up like a balloon.
Ultimately, the conflict was extinguished - Tevos silently helped the embarrassed entrepreneur. They gave her word that all security measures would be taken from now on.
- Accepted. Anything else?
- Yes." Tevos wrinkled her nose. This was a sore subject. - This isn't a joke? Do they want a separate representation?
- Yes." Leira sighed. - Not a joke. Both Stahl and Visari confirmed it.
- Udina's going to be furious... Let's get this matter out of the way. I told them a week ago through Alliance channels that it's a problem without Hellgan representatives. Still, they only have mass-effect ships once they get here...
- Excuse me! - The Azari secretary interrupted the conversation.
- Yes?
- We have received word that an unknown ship has entered the space near the Citadel. "On board are representatives of Helghan. Request a meeting with the Council."
Only thanks to her ironclad training Tevos didn't spit out her tea in amazement.
Instead, she finished the mug, set it on the table, and said:
- Sh-sh-shy....
***
Some time ago.
Alliance Information Node.
From: Lama System, Eye Cluster, planet Hellgan.
To: Systems Alliance General Headquarters.
Subject: Negotiations.
Let's talk about topics of interest to you.
Now, keep your ears open. I suggest we take one ship to avoid a tail.
Particularly in the area of military cooperation.
Sc. Visari.
Walter Karg, head of the Imperial Security Service, drummed a tune of some old song on the table and looked expectantly at his chief.
Visari intercepted the look.
- Something you wish to say?
- Yes.
- Am I listening?
- Bad idea. They'll think the stupid provincials have given up and start bending their terms.
Visari's famous smile made his political opponents frantically search for their blunders.
They usually did - but it was too late.
- Oh, if we are "stupid provincials" to them, that will be very good.....
The ship didn't have to wait long.
Most of all, Visari hoped they would send someone less clever than Anderson this time. It wasn't a matter of intelligence but of sensing danger: Anderson subconsciously sensed a threat in Visari.
It is worthy of respect, and the captain generally made a favourable impression on the Emperor. Still, Vizari clearly decided: Hellgan would not dance to another man's tune.
"Too many generations have laid down their lives for us. Too much I have sacrificed for this..."
The Colonial Government's blockade was highly selective. Despite its official legality and seeming impregnability, smugglers exported thousands of rare metals and minerals. And they were buying it at absolutely ridiculous prices.
"Absolutely fair trade: a tonne of food for a tonne of gold!"
The seemingly delusional suggestion was a sad truth to Hellgan. The irony was that all Hellgan knew was exactly who controlled the smugglers and who they paid a share to all the same leaders who had organised the blockade. Those who refused to pay their cut were quickly killed and left to dangle in orbit as a pile of space junk.
The blockade lasted almost a hundred years.
For almost a hundred years, Hellgan lived on starvation rations: the main food source was and still is underground farms where mushrooms are grown. Only after sanctions were lifted did synthetic meat join them.
The Hellmans' protective mask has become a symbol of humiliation.
The Visari managed to turn it into a symbol of the people.
When the Alliance ship came in for a landing, it was already being greeted.
Vizari, as a sign of good intentions, even ordered that they be given a place to land in the central transport hub. This cyclopean structure combined an airport, surface and underground metro train station, and several interchanges.
The ship itself was welcomed with pomp: they even laid out a red carpet, which was occasionally used for special ceremonial events, and at the gangway stood a guard of honour in uniforms with brightly shining plaques on their uniforms and helmets.
The ship resembled the one that had landed in the Badlands, except that it was called the Whiskey, according to the inscription on the side of the ship, and looked much more shabby. However, despite its unpresentable appearance, the men who stepped off it were distinctly military and were Walter Krag's colleagues.
"Conspiracy is a good thing. Maybe we'll make friends..."
The three men who descended looked at the guard of honour, the red carpet, and relaxed, smiling contentedly through the transparent helmets of their spacesuits.
One of them - the shorter one - waved his hand in greeting.
The trio began to walk along the kindly provided carpeted walkway...
And passed the mark.
The signal.
When Karg had been working out the operation layout, he'd faced a problem initially unsolvable: the defence field.
If the task was to kill, he would not hesitate for a second: a heavier bullet, a bigger load, a longer barrel... Stahl has a weapon for any game, even the most intelligent and bipedal.
But the diplomat had to be taken alive and not badly beaten. And it is desirable not to overstretch his guards.
The operation was on the verge of foul and with the use of psychology - so when the trio reached a certain area, two powerful electric mines exploded under their feet, sending all three of them simultaneously into flight and into a sound sleep.
And the Special Forces, dressed as Guardsmen, quickly flew up the gangway and promptly took control of the cockpit.
All the crew had poured out on the upper deck and stuck to the portholes, so there was no need to chase them around the ship. However, one of them started to resist, so rubber bullets had to be used.
The medical team dragged the victims to a sealed room, removed their spacesuits, checked their pulse and blood pressure, and concluded:
- They'll live.
Two minutes later, Walter Karg reported the operation's success to Vizari...
***
A couple of days later...
I had a headache. Badly.
His legs or feet hurt for some reason, as if they had been beaten with sticks for a long time... The Delta Lieutenant tried to open his eyes but closed them again: it was a bad idea. There is no such thing as a good headache... Something rumbled somewhere- his brain picked out a slight vibration: someone next to him was walking...
The Lieutenant opened his eyes with difficulty...
When a scary face with glowing eyes appeared above him, the military man shouted and did what an Alliance soldier does in any incomprehensible situation: he struck.
The fist did not reach its goal: everything was still blurred before his eyes, so the Earthman staggered out of bed and, overcoming the pain in his legs, tried to realise his position in space.
All around was a room with green-painted walls. There were no windows: or rather, there were, but they were closed from the outside by some shutters.
After assessing the situation, the Lieutenant finally noticed a ridiculous figure sitting on the wishbone of an old shell bed.
- Who the fuck are you? And where am I?
- Me?" The figure put a hand to its head, covered by a light hood. It sounded like a man. His English was clear, but he had a distinct accent. A mask with glowing lenses and a box on his chest looked at the Lieutenant with interest - the Earthman couldn't understand how. Still, it felt like the lenses somehow expressed the man's emotions.
The clothing was a grey jumpsuit and a hooded jacket made of synthetic material. It hung on the tall, lean figure like a hanger, so the military man decided to hold off on the beating for a while - to avoid killing him.
- Erm... Since this morning, my name was Valery Hart, but I could be mistaken... Well, Lieutenant, you are in the brig of the central garrison.
- WHERE?!
- Be proud - you're the first person to be put here in a long time. As a rule, those who misbehave in the Palace are flown straight to the Wastelands to shoot electric spiders. So you can demand a commemorative medal.
- YOU S-S-SUCKING BITCHES! YOU FUCKED US! - The Lieutenant clenched his pudgy fists so white his knuckles turned white.
- Hey... Calm down. - Hart stopped the military officer, who was starting to get angry again. - We had ordered, and as a military man, you understand them...
- Call a diplomat to negotiate and then knock him and his guards out? Where is he, by the way? - The duty part of my brain is awake.
- He's alive and well, walking around the museum and chatting with our august superiors. Your partner's right next to him. And you've been out a little longer. You took the worst of it.
You're bigger than the others, so the Old Man's got some insurance...
Hart wasn't such a bad guy after all. Though when he took off his mask, the Lieutenant mentally exhaled.
He had subconsciously expected to see something creepy, and the lines from Anderson's report on the observed mutations of the population fuelled his imagination.
The face was narrow, slightly triangular. No beard or moustache. The hair is dark grey, short. The skin is also a similar colour.
Age is hard to determine, but he looks about the same age as the Lieutenant.
- No horns. - The Helghast commented on the scrutiny of his person. - No tail, either.
The eyes were slightly less red than on the protective mask, though.
- Funny thing. - The man lifted the mask. - Due to a defect, some masks have a protective coating that glows. It doesn't matter for civilian work, but they make the military look funny.
- Mm-hmm... A classy souvenir for all visitors to the planet. - The Lieutenant muttered.
- I introduced myself. Why don't you introduce yourself?
- James. James Vega. Lieutenant, Delta Force.
- Well, let's go, Vega. - Hellgast turned his back to the still-clenched fists of the Lieutenant, completely calm. - I'll take you to your superior...