-Doug Vanderhew’s P.O.V.-

I leaned back, exhaling a heavy, uncharacteristic sigh as I looked upon the young woman. My bad knee ached as I contemplated the best way to move forward, headstrong, stubborn, and frankly mercenary unfortunately about as I’d expected her to be.

“Ms. Vera, I’m trying to help you.” I uttered tiredly, “We’ve been going around in circles - Bulwark, Legion, Orders - And we’re not getting anywhere as we are now.”

“You mean trying to help yourself,” She huffed, and then took a deep breath, her intensity dialing down a notch. “Look, I get it, you’re all trying to make sure the edges of the cookie keep from crumbling, but what is it doing to people?” Gesturing to herself, she continued, “People like me, who want to be out there doing something. I’m not asking for much; An area around Gilramore where the Hunter’s Order can conduct their business. All we want is a way to make to make our own path, that’s all. We’re not trying to ‘usurp the powers that be,’” her hands went up to mime quotations in the air. This was, of course, exactly what they were trying to do. Somehow, I’d managed to hold my tongue, years of political experience keeping me in control of myself in spite of the now thoroughly worn topic. This backroom meeting was supposed to be a way to meet on the level, to put aside all of the fluff that was want to occur in the political arena of old.

Most of us had shed that layer in the council chambers, stating our cases, being straightforward. Refreshingly so - blessedly so, even - we were able to communicate and get things done instead of spinning our wheels over and over. That was, of course, until more individuals with their own interests in mind entered the fray. The Civic Orders were the primary source of it, morose as I was to admit it. The Bulwark and Legion were unified in purpose, and were severely disinterested in playing the political game as a whole.

Which had let people like Cassandra Vera into power, people who knew how to claim power, but not how to keep it, not to consolidate it. Those consequences were coming around to bite her in the… well.

“I understand that you’re under a great deal of pressure from your Order to make this happen. And I also agree-” I cut her impending interruption off with a hand up to allow me to finish my statement, “-To an extent that there should be some kind of platform in place to allow other biotic hunting to take place not under the purview of the Legion. But, I do not believe, in the slightest,” I leaned forward, voice hard, “That anyone should be allowed to claim what the Legion fought so hard over. Anyone who wishes to hunt biotics can do so, on the conditions of mutual respect of boundaries. To presumptuously claim the safest hunting grounds, at least for now, nearest to the city has many issues.”

“Issues that I’m sure are valid and reasonable.” She retorted with dripping sarcasm.

I ignored it and continued, reminding myself that politics wasn’t personal, “Firstly, the security of Gilramore as a whole. Given that biotics can and will eventually generate more powerful versions of themselves, it is in everyone’s better interest to have a dedicated force keeping any nearby farms in check. Without having proven your organizations capacity for such, I am reluctant to agree on that count alone.”

“Secondly, there are not many farms for the same reasoning as the first. They help, but the loss of even one affects our ongoing war and reclamation efforts significantly. Which leads into the third reason why this is an untenable; Thus far, the Hunter’s Order has shown excessive favoritism and habitual hoarding of Matter Energy. Already, the groups you work with are significantly more wealthy than they should be.”

She scoffed, “So you’re saying it’s a problem that we’re wealthy and becoming powerful, now?”

I felt my heart constrict, but I kept my expression and fists uninhibited by the flare of anger at that, “What I’m saying is that stratification of wealth is the exact opposite thing that helps us right now. Matter Energy is not just some kind of money. It is a strategic resource that we need to gain technologies and materials not available without large-scale logistical operations that we don’t have the manpower or equipment for. Imagine if we had to excavate all of the iron, coal, lime, and other minerals that we’ve been using abundantly to get the city operational and in defensive shape? Now imagine that a large chunk of Matter Energy was in the hands of a few, who decided what to do with it at their leisure. People would flock to them, ask them for projects, and in turn only those willing to give something back would then actually receive that Matter Energy. Of course, the pandering, mewling inner circle and those beholden to them would then receive a larger amount of Matter Energy. You could say that it would reduce the flow of Matter Energy to a small group, while others would see marked decreases.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she murmured, though uncertainty seemed to lurk in her eyes, “That’s capitalism, anyways. So what if some people are getting wealthy? It’s not like we can’t take up the roll of protectors as well. And more than that, we can just expand the system, get more people involved, just like an economic system.”

“And yet, the only source of further capital will be to fight more and more biotics. Farms are well and good, but untested, conditional. And hunts would take you further from the city, and from help. If you get in trouble, you won’t have an artillery array to back you up, and the biotics are far more different than what you’ve dealt with here. Can you sustain the needs of a population? One used to being showered in Matter Energy?” I stared at her, trying to find some way to get my point across.

It’s true that if their organization had shown that they were capable of logistical work and the like that they would likely be a viable alternative system. As much as a shift in methodology would scare me for the future of Gilramore, I would accept their existence until we could see which system was clearly working better. But the problem came to be that they had shown no positive traits thus far; vain in their efforts and insisting that people pamper them, demanding products of higher quality, working only with small groups and abstaining from releasing Matter Energy to any other groups, and only hunting in areas that were closer to the city. Wolves were hardly a threat when they weren’t in hoards, of which the Legion trimmed further out in the badlands to the west and north east. They were fighting stragglers, or groups too small for the Legion Kill-Teams to bother with.

It was a system in place intended to allow us to train recruits, small numbers of wolves in easily manageable and artillery protected regions for if something went wrong. Mortality rate, of course, was a high concern in general, and we needed our rookies to be capable of surviving in the real world.

This created a problem, as the Hunter’s Order was now taking up these resources. Moreover, this has also had the unintended side effect of making the general population underestimate the ongoing biotic threat. It created the rumor that most biotic threats were dealt with, and that there was nothing out there but easy pickings, so-to-speak. This emboldened people who normally would avoid the prospect of hunting biotics, giving them a false confidence that would get them killed if they were prepared improperly.

Finally, there was the issue of equipment. The Hunter’s Order armed themselves primarily in old-world tech, instead using their Matter Energy on… certain recreational purposes.

Not all of them were like that, there were some that took the job seriously, and it was for those small numbers of people that I was willing to make any concessions at all.

“My Order can handle it.” Stiffly she answered, “I realize that there have been events recently that might paint my Order in a less than positive light. And that there are rumors regarding a possible… disagreement within my inner circle, but I am confident,” She regained some of her zeal as she continued, “that we can do better, that we can do all of the things that the people need us to do. We just need the chance to prove it, the right backing, the foundation.”

“Your Order-” I began, then blew a heavy breath out of my nose and shook my head. A challenging glare met my eyes, “You do realize what some people are actually calling your order, yes?”

She blinked in confusion, still simmering, “What are you talking about?”

I folded my hands in front of me, a grimace preceding my words, “There are a lot of people who are calling your group the Order of Debauchery. Do you really understand what’s going on with your people? Let me give you the proof here,” I shook my head helplessly, “Everything I’m about to tell you has already been investigated. But your so-called ‘disagreement’ has already led to a faction growing within your own. Your second-in-command has all but named them, but all of this information is regarding people who are working with him for favors. And they’ve agreed that a portion of all of their Matter Energy will go to him for ‘Membership Taxes,’ and that this Matter Energy is primarily lining his pockets. The rest are going to parties, his hand-picked people being getting outfitted with Obelisk technology. Which, I should mention, is egregiously expensive.”

“That…” She paused, her display likely in front of her as videos, pictures, and documents scrolled through her sight, “But, t-they need to be outfitted to hunt more biotics, that’s a given.”

“They sit on their ass all day.” I spoke flatly, “The ideal group you have in your head? That’s the minority in your group. Even so, I’ve taken the time to speak to you, Cassandra Vera, in the hopes that something constructive will come of this train wreck.”

She looked up to me, and something seemed to have finally clicked for her, “You’re not looking to deal with the Order. You’re looking to make a deal with me.”

“We don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things,” I admitted, “But that’s not to say that you’re wrong. Differing opinions doesn’t mean that one is right or wrong. The question becomes what is best for Gilramore and its people. Maybe if you had better people your system would work. Perhaps Legion, Bulwark, and the Orders are all full of greedy people who don’t want to let go of power. I might be included in that group, honestly, I can’t tell,” A grim smile settled on my lips, “I don’t know what the best course of action is for everyone, and frankly, I’m growing tired of getting stuck in all of our backyard politics. We need people to work together.”

“That said, I can’t give you dedicated access. But I’m willing to offer you a few things. For one, we ‘live and let live’ and you can continue to harvest biotics as you come across them. You’ll stay out of Legion restricted zones, but we’re willing to provisionally allow you to clear a farm occasionally until you can prove yourselves capable.” I began seeing a spark alight in Cassandra’s eyes, “As for the management of the city, we’re willing to cede a small section of it to you, namely the one you’re already taking root in, in order to see how well you can organize the area and take care of the people therein. You’ll be offered a seat on the council, again provisionally, in order to have a voice in the development of Gilramore as a whole. No voting rights, yet-” she frowned at that “-but in good faith I would hope you would allow the rest of us to warm up to the idea of another faction growing into the framework of the city. As for your economic situation, that I’m uncertain as to how to proceed, further talks would be necessary, but at least we can use this as a starting point.”

“I hope you can see that we’re sincere in this offer, the Legion is willing to give you the chance, if you’ll work with us. This is what I can offer you, for now, since the Reaper isn’t here.” I spoke, feeling the ache in my knee subside a great deal. Getting this off my chest felt oddly freeing.

Cassandra sat, her curly brown hair and protective combat fatigues frozen in a picture of thought. She finally breathed a sigh, “It’s not what I came here for… but it seems like the best middle ground we could possibly come too. I’ll… I’ll need to send this to my inner-circle to pass the vote.”

I nodded to her, “Of course. Will that take long?”

“No, no, I’ll send it now.” She spoke, seeming both hopeful and nervous at once. I watched her swipe through the air, likely sending the core points of the deal to those of her inner circle. I hoped that they would see reason, but we’d hopefully know for sure shortly.

The time, however, dragged on awkwardly for five minutes, and then onwards to ten. We idly made small talk after the first five, attempting to come to a more personal level of conversation. That dwindled, though I could almost see a question rising that she was mulling over.

“You said that this was the best deal you could offer,” she began thoughtfully, trailing off.

I frowned, and she quickly carried on, “Oh, not to say I don’t think it’s a good deal. It’s just, you also said while the Reaper isn’t here. Is he… is he actually still alive?”

The question caught me by surprise coming from her, but it wasn’t an uncommon one. Previously, my answers had been vague and indistinct at best. I smiled warmly, “Yes, yes he is alive. He might even be in the building soon.”

“Where has he been all this time? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind talking to you, in spite of appearances, but wouldn’t this have been… you know.” She gestured wide, trying to find the turn of phrase that suited the situation best.

I chuckled, “Easier?” She nodded, “Yes, this would have been easier. The only reason why I took charge now was that things were taking too long. Obviously we left all of this in the air for too long, and for that, I’m deeply sorry. Perhaps this would have been less messy if we’d have taken a clearer stance previously.”

“Maybe… and I suppose I could say that things may have gotten out of hand with my people, as well.” She sighed, “What do you think he would have done?”

“He? Matthew, you mean?” Another nod, “Well, this might not be the best thing to hear, but he doesn’t exactly have the patience for politics.” I chuckled.

She leaned forward, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” I hesitated, then shrugged, “He’d probably have taken a much harder and clear position, alright. But it would have been harsh and certainly to the bone. Understand that he’s a man who has charged headlong horrific situations. You remember Wolven?”

She made a disgusted look, “I remember the videos of the thing.”

“He charged headlong into the central mass to kill the main body. Alone, knowing he would likely die from it. He nearly did, too, lost almost everything,” I patted my leg and then frowned, “I’d appreciate if you kept that confidential. I believe you can understand where he’s coming from, he’s quite passionate in what he believes in as well.”

Swallowing hard, “So, he wasn’t out hunting biotics all this time?”

I cringed, “No. No he was not.”

“Is he… I mean…” she looked at my artificial leg.

“Yes, and no.” I answered, “Perhaps he’ll be willing to disclose the fullness of his… condition, at a later time.”

She turned her attention elsewhere then, looking at a screen. Surprisingly she’d kept her face stoic as she spoke the next words, “It seems that the Hunter’s Order has… rejected these conditions, believing that further considerations would be necessary.”

The only thing that betrayed her inner thoughts in that moment was the twitch of her eyelid, likely matching my own frustration at that moment.

“I see.” Was all I could manage as I sat and chewed the corner of my lip in thought.

Neither of us noticed that the door had slid open, nor the fact that there was a man standing at the entrance.

“Is that so?” The voice startled the both of us, glancing up at the black and red power armored form that belonged to the leader of the Reaper’s Legion. He was more imposing than before, and to my great surprise exuded an aura of command and something darker than I’d ever noticed that hung around Matthew.

“Nice to see you again, Doug,” he nodded, fractal designs on his helmet glowing faint red, betraying a holographic skull within, “and I’d say it’s nice to meet you, Cassandra, but it’s really not.”

I grimaced, seeing the brief flash of outrage on her face. Before she could speak, Matthew’s helmet slid from his face.

I’d not seen Matthew’s new appearance, not since I’d seen him as a ragged mass of flesh that certainly didn’t seem like it could have recovered. What recovery did happen, though, seemed almost a cruel parody of what he was before. His features were flawless, adjusted ever so slightly to be more angular. While he was handsome for a young man before, now I could see the traits that had been highlighted, small adjustments that made for a stark difference upon the whole. His skin was black and matte, his eyes dimly glowing red framed with a pitch sclera. His voice had been almost friendly, but seeing the way he looked at Cassandra now, barely contained contempt, I couldn’t help but sympathize with the woman at that moment.

“Sorry, Doug, but it seems that I’ll have to step in after all. I’d hoped that we could come to a conclusion that wouldn’t force me to do this, but it seems that greed drives people a little mad,” I watched him smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, “wouldn’t you say?”

He walked into the room further, taking a seat beside me. At the same time, a message appeared on my Obelisk from him.

[Thank you, Doug. I know you tried your best. I’ll take responsibility for this.]

‘Oh boy…’ I thought dryly, ‘This is going to go worse than I’d expected, then.’

But, perhaps, this was the way the Legion needed to operate, at least for now. I’d offered the carrot but now, it seemed, was the time for the stick.