Chapter 7 - A New Dawn for the Quarians

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The Citadel was abuzz with whispers and rumors. What had initially started as idle chatter on the extranet had quickly escalated into something far more significant. The Quarians, long regarded as a nomadic race of exiles and outcasts, were suddenly leaving the Citadel. It wasn’t just a few dozen families; thousands were abandoning their cramped quarters and makeshift homes for a new life in the uncharted reaches of the galaxy. Their destination? Imperial space, the domain of the mysterious and militaristic Imperium of Man.

Word had spread quickly. Reports from Quarians already in the Imperium were flooding the extranet, painting a picture of what seemed too good to be true. The Emperor of Man and his Imperium were offering the Quarians more than just temporary asylum—they were offering them homes. Real homes. The chance to live in peace, without the constant threat of poverty, disease, and exile. For the first time in centuries, Quarians were being given the opportunity to take off their helmets and breathe without fear.

Within days of the reports surfacing, the exodus began. Families packed up what little they had and prepared to leave the Citadel, their eyes set on what they believed to be a fresh start. It was a monumental shift. The same Quarians who had once begged the Citadel Council for help, only to be met with half-hearted offers of aid and sympathy, were now abandoning the galaxy’s political hub for the promise of a new future in a far-flung empire.

To many residents of the Citadel, this exodus was a relief. The Quarians had always been seen as beggars and scavengers, their presence tolerated but never truly accepted. The idea of them leaving was, for some, a welcome development. But for the Citadel Council, it was a political nightmare.

The Council Chambers, located in the heart of the Citadel Presidium, had never felt more tense. The three Councilors—Tevos, Sparatus, and Valern,—sat around the circular table, their faces etched with concern. A holographic display in the center of the table showed a steady stream of extranet reports, all detailing the growing exodus of Quarians to the Imperium of Man.

Tevos, ever the diplomat, was the first to speak. “We have a situation on our hands. The Quarians are leaving the Citadel in droves. According to the latest reports, they’re headed to Imperial space. And by all accounts, the Imperium is offering them homes and protection. This could destabilize the balance of power in the galaxy.”

Sparatus grunted, clearly unimpressed. “Good riddance. The Quarians have been a drain on our resources for centuries. They’ve done nothing but beg for handouts since they lost their homeworld. Let them leave. Let them be someone else’s problem.”

Tevos shot him a sharp look. “This isn’t just about the Quarians, Sparatus. This is about the Imperium of Man. They’ve already shown that they’re willing to act without consulting the Council. Their intervention in the Batarian conflict was evidence enough of that. Now they’re offering asylum to a race that we have long failed to help. This makes us look weak.”

Sparatus crossed his arms, his mandibles flaring in frustration. “We are weak. We let the Quarians and their kind cling to our space for far too long. The fact that they’re willing to run to the Imperium proves that they were never loyal to the Council in the first place. And as for the humans… well, they’re hardly even know to us. They wiped out a Turian fleet during the First Contact War, and I haven’t forgotten that.”

Tevos raised an eyebrow. “Is this about the First Contact War again? Sparatus, humanity retaliated because your fleet attacked them first. You can’t hold that grudge forever.”

Sparatus’ voice was cold. “I can, and I will. They killed thousands of Turian soldiers. They showed no mercy, no restraint. Now they’re showing the same aggression toward the Batarians. If we’re not careful, they’ll come for us next.”

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