30 Politics

--> The Council refuses to send aid. Their apologies are civil, but adamant; they will not commit their forces to a joint effort.

When all is said and done, I cannot blame them. Setting aside the now nearly non-existent Batarians, Earth does face the worst of the attack, but the Reapers are everywhere. Turians are facing an invasion of their own, even the Asari have met their first Reapers, and the Salarians, well, are typically Salarian. It seems obvious the Reapers have thrown just enough at each of the other races, commensurate to their strengths, to keep them properly occupied while they crush Earth at their leisure. Despite the exhortations of an uncharacteristically lucid Councillor Udina, no immediate military alliance will be forthcoming.

The Turian Councillor has offered a suggestion. In the chaos of the attack on Palavan, the Turian Primarch is unaccounted for, and the Normandy still has the best stealth drive in the Galaxy. If I can extract the Primarch and ensure his safety, it will be a strong card in the game of political manoeuvring. So be it. If this is what needs doing to gain the cooperation of the Turians, I’ll see it done. If I can bypass the Council and appeal directly to the Turian leadership, the other races will be inclined to follow.

While they refuse to promise warships and troops, the Council have not refused to aid in the construction of the Prothean device. If they can give us anything, resources, scientists, we can use it. Confirmation of such assistance is still in the air.

Udina is on fire. After having been so long on adversarial terms with him for being a self-serving politically motivated blockhead, it is a relief to find him animated and engaged doing everything he can. With Humanity’s civilian leadership on Earth and Arcturus all dead, Udina not only represents Humanity’s face to the Galaxy, he holds the sum of authority for our entire species. He’s ordered all available resources devoted to immediate construction of the Prothean device, a draft across the colonies, all civilian ships armed, and is using every ounce of political clout and leverage he has to conjure up support for Humanity amongst the other races.

It's strange being here on the Citadel, only three years since it all began, but it feels longer than that, as though it all occurred in another life. I suppose in my case it was. How very droll.

Here's where we first embarked upon our mission to hunt Saren down, before we even knew what the Reapers were, when the team first assembled. I keep expecting to see Garrus in his old C-Sec uniform sniffing out information in the back alleys, and Tali with her cryptic message stolen from geth soldiers. But they're not here. No telling where they all are now. Garrus is probably stalking through the smoking rubble of some burning city on Palavan hunting Reapers. Or he could be dead. Tali is most likely sitting in the back seat of Quarian politics waiting for everyone to notice that the rest of the Galaxy is under attack. Wrex is likely solidifying power on Tuchanka, chafing at the bit to get out there and kill monsters. Kaidan is dead, so long ago it seems a lifetime away on Virmire, laying down his life for the rest of us so the mission could continue. Now Ashley is in critical condition, a mere inch away from following him. I tell myself it's not my fault, but I don't believe me. Of all the old team, only Liara can I know for certain is alive and well.

--> Ashley has been treated in a Hospital on the Citadel, and pulled through initial surgery. Head trauma was severe, and final results are still uncertain, but the doctors think she’ll live.

I spent months in custody after returning to the Alliance. Ashley and I didn’t see each other at all during that time. I’d not even been told of her promotion. The sudden arrival of the Reapers is the only reason we found ourselves in direct contact, fighting Cerberus together on Mars. Anderson at least has decided that I’m real, but everything related to my working with Cerberus was classified, and I don’t think Ashley even had clearance to read the Alliance reports on my mission against the Collectors. She still doesn’t know for certain that I’m actually me, and before I have a time to make amends, a Cerberus robot nearly kills her. There’s still so much unsaid between us. She can’t die. She’ll make it.

I’m taking the Normandy into Turian space. That Primarch had better be still alive.

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