The Czarnian Pilgrimage

By evolution-500

Genre: Science Fiction/Friendship

Disclaimer: "Mass Effect" is a property owned by Bioware and the Czarnians are a property belonging to DC Comics. I do not own this game nor any of its characters.

WARNING: This story contains references to violence, coarse language, disturbing themes and imagery. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter Five: Hope

"Hope is a waking dream."

- Aristotle

Following their arrival, Jan and his crew were invited for a tour of the cities by the Councilor himself.

At first, Jan had protested, partially because he didn't want to impose.

After all, he had pointed out, as an individual in a leadership position, Calius-Wrell undoubtedly had a lot of work as a politician, and the last thing he needed was to be distracted from more pressing matters that needed addressing.

"Ah, but Admiral," the Councilman replied, "this is a matter that concerns my people, just as much as it does yours. Wouldn't it be better to address the Thanagarian Snarebeast in the room first so that any and all complications are averted in the future?"

Jan had to admit, he couldn't really argue against his point.

Thus, he along with Jura ended up reluctantly becoming Calius-Wrell's guests, while the two men that Haken had assigned were dismissed by the Councilor, allowing them to return back to their duties.

Together with an armed Quarian escort - much to Calius-Wrell's bemusement - the Czarnians kindly showed Jan and the others around on his personal vessel, starting with the inner parts of the city, which were the most crowded and busiest sections, often relating to commerce.

Outside of the city in the distance, Jan observed, were what appeared to be residential areas, all of which seemed far less dense and more spacious in comparison, while beyond that were a number of agrarian areas.

Taking everything in, Jan was struck by the architecture and layouts, noticing how there was a very consistent theme in each district.

Interestingly, there was a lot of integration of elements from the natural word, all of it carefully and artfully arranged where nature, architecture and technology blended seamlessly together into a unified whole.

Some of the buildings, for instance, seemed to have been built through the generations from a single tree before more technologically advanced technology was integrated into one or the other, each section showing signs of their history and development. In some sections, he spotted smaller dome-like buildings and houses that looked to have been built into the very earth, looking almost indistinguishable from some of the more glassy and/or grassy areas. In other sections, one or two of the structures were integrated into what seemed like caves, streams and rivers, all of it aesthetically pleasing and carefully arranged so as to not despoil the landscape of its integrity.

Every house and building showed some hint of history, as far as Jan could tell; he noticed a number of old posts and markings indicating what seemed to be some of the earliest forms of Czarnian calligraphic writing, while in other sections, he spotted more advanced glyphs projected from walls via hologram.

Fascinatingly, there were entire pathways and structures that looked to have been constructed via tree shaping, utilizing a series of overly long tree roots to form a bridge of sorts between a given building.

It was a strange mishmash of advanced futurism and the antediluvian, all of it highly sophisticated, and yet there was a very clear reverence for the past, a deep love for their heritage, and an intense desire to preserve both nature and their even most ancient of memories.

In some areas, however, there were...less than pleasant-looking sights; while travelling along the outer rim of the cities, Jan and company spotted a number of strange, bloated, pulsating mound-like buildings that were over forty by eighty meters.

Structures that looked as if they were covered in cobwebs of what looked like...skin, of some sort.

"Is that- is that flesh?" Jan pointed with disgust.

Calius-Wrell nodded. "It is. Those are the Velorpian Genesis Chambers, where the Vat-born and Reborn are created."

Puzzled, Jan gave him a quizzical look. "'Vat-born'? What are those?"

"In our society, there are Czarnians, Xrexians, Natural-born, Vat-born, Reborn, and the Blood-born," Calius-Wrell explained. "There used to be a race many ages ago known as the Velorpians, but they had gone extinct. All that we have left of them are some of their genes taken from ancient fossils, some relics and a few ruined temples. It's a shame really - from all accounts, they were almost indistinguishable from us Czarnians, save for their purple hair. According to historical records, they had enhanced strength and sense of smell like our kind, and likewise, they too were able to reproduce through both sexual reproduction and an advanced form of parthenogenesis known as "Bio-Fission"-"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Jura interrupted, waving a hand. "Did you just say "Bio-Fission"?"

"Yes," the Councilor confirmed. "Every Czarnian and Xrexian is capable of producing a clone instantly from a single droplet of tissue or blood."

Jan paled. "Each...drop...?"

"Yes." Calius-Wrell cocked his head. "You weren't aware?"

Exchanging nervous glances with his colleagues, Jan returned his gaze back to the Councilor, raising a hand to his forehead, feeling overwhelmed.

"Keelah, no wonder why your people never had any wars nor conflict!" The former murmured.

Blinking, Calius-Wrell raised a brow, nictating membranes flaring. "What are those?"

Raising a hand, Jan waved. "Nothing. Please continue, Councilor."

"Ah, before you do so," Jura cut in, "could you clarify something?"

"What is that you would like to know?" Calius-Wrell inquired.

"You say that every drop of blood would create a new Czarnian, yes?"

"That is correct."

"Do these...clones...have the same memories and personality as the original?"

"Largely yes," Calius-Wrell nodded, "although variation can occur in a given individual. Certain traits might be amplified or lessened whenever a clone is produced. So, for example, one clone might possess the same strength as the original, while another might be stronger, smarter, dumber or weaker. Some might even have differently colored scale markings or ridges on their faces."

"I see. If every clone has the same memories, if not personality of its...parent," Jura said slowly, "how does that impact their family? I must imagine that it would be incredibly difficult to regulate property rights."

"It depends on the clone and the circumstances, really," the Councilor shrugged. "Generally speaking, the relationship one has with one's clone is flexible in its nature. Some of us refer to them as our own siblings, while a few of us treat them as our own offspring. Part of it depends on the age of the host when the clone was produced as well as the latter's cognitive abilities. As children, they would be accepted as another child of the household and allowed to be raised with the original, as one would any other child. As adults, the relationship is either as siblings or as parent and child. Because they're freshly born, adult clones don't automatically have right to property. Whenever a new clone is produced, they are given a serial number and are vigorously tested in order to determine their capabilities and cognition. Once those are determined, they will be allowed to apply for a name and any profession where their skills are able to ensure them steady employment."

"What if a clone is..." Jan spoke up, drawing their attention, "...well...developmentally delayed?"

"We would take care of them regardless," Calius-Wrell affirmed. "That being said, however, development delays usually tend to turn up in very faulty clones, and because of that, those clones tend to have severely shortened lifespans, with no shortage of complications arising."

"What sort of complications are we talking about exactly?"

"Cellular degradation, muscle atrophy, blindness, respiratory failure...death."

Jura raised her hands to her mouth piece. "Keelah, how horrible!"

Jan watched as the Councilor gravely nodded. "Indeed. Their genetics would be so unstable that they would die regardless. Our people have tried everything - gene therapies, prayers, our rejuvenation pools - but so far, none of us have been able to successfully save them. The only thing that we can do for them is either put them in stasis, or to look after and comfort them as they finally pass on." Nictating membranes flared as the Czarnian stared ahead at nothing, lost in his own thoughts. "I've seen it first hand ages ago with my little brother, a Blood-born that I used to be very good friends with. One moment he was healthy, the next..."

Trailing off, Calius-Wrell fell into a gloomy silence, his expression mirrored by his daughter Sheba, whose fingers clutched onto handfuls of her skirt as she stared to the floor.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Councilor," Jan nodded.

"Thank you, Admiral," Calius-Wrell nodded. "It-It was a long time ago, but still, some things never truly go away. Not entirely, anyway." Looking uncomfortable, he squirmed and adjusted his collar, clearing his throat. "N-Now then, where was I?"

"You were telling us about these buildings," Jan gestured.

"Oh yes!" The Czarnian nodded, continuing, "As I was saying, Admiral, the Velorpians were the early ancestral forms of our species. It had been theorized by our scientists that they may have interbred with an unidentified indigenous species of this world to produce what we would call modern-day Czarnians, but so far nothing can be confirmed on that front. Like Czarnians, they had all of our gifts, including Bio-Fission, but based on computer simulations and historical documents, their physiology was a little more...extreme...compared to our own."

"How so?"

"For one, their bodies were capable of generating high levels of electricity and photokinesis, both of which seemed to have been lost in successive generations."

Jan thoughtfully hummed, intrigued by the information, while Jura crossed her arms.

"What do you mean by "photokinesis" exactly?" The latter queried. "Do you mean bioluminescence?"

"Exactly," Calius-Wrell nodded. "They used to generate a non-blinding light through their hands and bodies. Likewise, according to other historical sources, when a Velorpian died, their death would instantly result in a hundred duplicates being created."

"A hundred?!" Jan exclaimed, startling the Councilor.

"Uh, y-yes," Calius-Wrell nodded, clearing his throat. "Every one of these clones would possess a lot of the same traits as the original, but the host's mind, according to historical documents, would be dispersed amongst them. Thus, every Velorpian would be different from the original in some form or fashion in terms of their personality. Same memories, but each clone would be its own independent person."

"Keelah," Jura murmured, raising a hand to her visored face.

Many of the Marines were uncharacteristically silent; though their features couldn't be seen through their visors, Jan was able to notice a slight tremble and shake in their limbs, although they desperately sought to hide it.

Looking away from them, Jan then gestured to the strangely fleshy buildings. "So...what purpose do these structures serve then? If your species are capable of producing clones through blood, why on earth would you have these buildings for?"

The Councilor patiently regarded him, folding his arms behind his back. "Velorpian physiology had a number of features that make them invaluable. When enough bodies are produced, they would merge together to form a giant mound of flesh, an intricate hive of nerve bundles and tissue. After a few minutes, the mound would then be covered in massive sore-like eggs that would then birth new Velorpians."

A flutter started to form in the pit of Jan's stomach as the implications slowly became clear.

"S-So..." he slowly stuttered, "this...this whole structure...is...?"

"Yes. It is a giant womb."

The silence that fell amongst the Quarians became palpable as they all shared uneasy glances, looking back at the mound with a mixture of horror and revulsion. Jan refrained from letting out a disconcerted shiver as he observed the structure, watching it pulsate.

Keelah, just when he thought these beings couldn't be any stranger, they proceed to surprise him.

"Do...Do Czarnians produce such things?"

He watched as the Councilor and his daughter Sheba let out pleasant laughs.

"Thankfully no," the latter shook her head. "Our species are similar to theirs, but not the same."

"Indeed," Calius-Wrell nodded. "As I was saying, we've taken some inspiration from the Velorpian reproductive process in order to create cloning vats of our own, along with the glowing pools."

Jan scratched his head. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Many reasons. Sometimes you might get one Czarnian or Xrexian couple unable to conceive. We generally try to fix the issue before that happens, but in the event a complication arises, we use vats to help. Thus, we end up producing what we dub "Vat-born"."

The Admiral raised his head in understanding. "Ahh, I see! So the Vat-born are artificially-created, whereas the "Natural-born" are those conceived through normal sexual reproduction?"

"Correct," Sheba nodded.

"What about these "Reborn" and "Blood-born" that you mentioned?" Jura piped up.

"Blood-born is as it sounds, my lady," Calius-Wrell answered.

"And Xrexians?"

"Our cousins who decided to settle on one of our lunar colonies," Sheba replied, tucking her curly black hair behind one pointed ear. "Due to the silver that they would consume up there on occasion, Xrexians have argyria, which gives their skin a far more bluish coloration compared to regular Czarnians."

"Sounds like Asari," Jan offhandedly remarked.

Nictating membranes flared as Sheba gave a questioning look. "Pardon?"

"Another alien species that we encountered," he explained. "They're entirely female with blue scaly skin. They kind of look like female Czarnians in a way, only without hair."

"Ah."

"What are the Reborn?" Jura asked. "Is that a ceremony? Something of religious significance?"

"Yes and no," Calius-Wrell answered. "Generally speaking, the term refers to those who had departed and who have returned back to life."

Startled by the revelation, the Quarians hesitatingly glanced at one another, perplexed by the news.

Jan swallowed. "You..." he said slowly, struggling to speak, "...you mean to tell me...that...that you are able to...resurrect your dead?"

"Those who have died ages ago, more specifically," Sheba clarified.

The Quarians murmured as they all gave each other looks of horror and revulsion, causing their hosts to anxiously and confusedly look at the former.

Nearby, a number of Czarnians suddenly ceased doing what they were doing as they all uneasily looked around in confusion.

"W-Why in the world would you do such a thing?!" Jan exclaimed.

"Because we love our ancestors and respect their wishes and wisdom," Calius-Wrell replied. "Sometimes, immortality can be a little too much for an individual to bear, especially for the older generation. Some just wish to see Isha and our ancestors for themselves as a way to alleviate whatever uncertainties they have, while others are merely weary of such a long existence. Occasionally, there would be those among us that do so as part of special pilgrimages, where they would travel to the underworld and return back. Preparations are made beforehand for all the parties involved as a way to alleviate the pain of when that time comes, and when it does happen, we would have a day of mourning. We very much take our graves and shrines seriously, but we also respect the wishes of those who wish to return someday. On this world, every citizen is capable of choosing how long they wish to live for, just as they are able to determine when and how they wish to be resurrected, so long as that is sufficiently communicated."

Jan stared, perplexed by the answer.

Turning his back to his guests, the Councilor gestured. "Come. Let me show you the rest of our world."

Sharing a look with his fellow Quarians, Jan followed, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The trip through the city was long and exhausting, part of it due to the heavy gravity of this world, although thankfully a lot of that was mitigated by special gravity suits that the Quarians wore, making the effort and movement far more tolerable for them.

Moving through the crowded streets and watching through the windows of the Councilor's vessel, everywhere Jan looked, he saw marvels in one form or another, all of it matched by something so outlandish.

He saw a number of market stalls selling strange and exotic-looking fruits and vegetables of enormous sizes, along with stalls showing clothes of bright and colorful patterns.

He saw animals of various shapes and sizes, some having multiple legs and eyes, while a few would have no legs at all.

One creature, however, resembled a massive, fearsome-looking spider, easily the most dangerous-looking creature on this planet...if it weren't for the fact that it were asleep and it was being lovingly patted and cradled by a woman many times smaller than it, as if it were a baby.

Staring in disbelief, Jan exchanged perplexed looks with his host and the other Quarians as the woman hummed a lullaby to her "Thanagarian Snarebeast", as Calius-Wrell had dubbed it.

It was a sight that was both terrifying and yet dementedly cute in equal measure.

"It's not native to our world, admittedly," Calius-Wrell had explained as he and the others watched the woman walk by. "It's actually something the Thanagarians had traded with us ages ago. We use their silk for a number of different applications, but I heard they also make good pets as well."

Jura shivered. "That's a pet?!"

Jan shook his head, sighing.

Keelah, this crazy fucking planet!

To think something like the Rachni would be viewed as a pet to these beings was unfathomable.

Looking away from the woman, Jan found himself giving pause as he was greeted with an even stranger vision; one individual - a tiny, shriveled, wrinkly old man wearing a tricorn hat - was riding on what looked to be a giant snail, which drew a lot of looks from both Jan himself and the other Quarians.

"What in the world is this place?" One of the Marines murmured, watching as it slithered away, leaving a thick, viscous substance behind that was cleaned up by a small drone.

More than once Jan found himself struck by the sort of surreal nature of this world and its people.

The streets were all clean and grime-free, and the people were all warm and kind to one another, so neighborly and caring.

There were no conflicts of any kind, nor were there any indications of either segregation nor racial divide. By all accounts, it was a utopia of startling proportions, and if it wasn't for the fact that Jan had been searching for faults, he wouldn't have believed it.

Fashion-wise, a lot of the Czarnians mainly wore white robes and/or officer uniforms, although occasionally Jan would see more colorful clothing, with the occasional individual wearing a form-fitting bodysuit.

More than once he spotted glimpses of some sort of cybernetic augmentation amongst the throng of bodies, but more often than not, those would turn out to be for decorative purposes rather than anything utilitarian.

The type of cybernetics varied from individual to individual; one would have a cybernetic arm, another would have a cybernetic leg, maybe a replaced eye.

One individual looked as if he were entirely automated, completely encased in armor, but the most surreal and horrifying thing that nearly made Jan sick was seeing a headless male body standing shirtless by a large automaton from the sidelines while holding his own head!

Staring in shock, Jan speechlessly watched as the man lifted up his head and attached it back onto his neck, his eyes widening as the man's skin sealed up instantaneously.

'Keelah, not even a scar!' The Quarian thought in horrified fascination, startled by the speed of the regenerative process.

He knew that Krogan and Vorcha were capable of healing quickly, but this was on a fundamentally different level altogether; all it took was mere seconds, and the Czarnian was as good as new!

"J-Jura," he spoke, drawing his companion's attention, "did...did you see that?"

"See what?" she asked, puzzled.

"Did you see what that Czarnian over there just did?" he pointed, indicating the Czarnian as he idly chatted with a group of males.

Giving him a confused look, Jura's brows furrowed as she shook her head. "I didn't see anything, sir. Is something wrong?"

Watching the Czarnian for several seconds, Jan swallowed. "N-No. It's-It's nothing," he said, averting his eyes as they continued their tour.

Moving through the streets, Jan quietly observed its population, studying their interactions with a mixture of curiosity and interest.

Interestingly, there didn't seem to be any form of negative interactions at all amongst the population whatsoever; whether it was Czarnian, Xrexian, male or female, whether it was man or machine, all were treated fairly and respectfully regardless.

The latter gave Jan some measure of concern, and when he questioned his host about their version of AI, he was surprised to learn the truth about their technology.

"Your...your technology...is created...from your own...flesh?" Jan said with disgust.

"Some of it, if not some of the more intricate parts in a given vehicle or construct," Calius-Wrell nodded, "though not all. Our skin, muscles, nerves and bones contain a number of electrolytes and advanced proteins, and we've admittedly taken some inspiration from Isha. Just as we Czarnians were created from her flesh, it is only fitting that some of our constructs are created from ours." He then gestured to some of the tree bridges connecting some of the buildings together. "Think of it as something akin to tree shaping where you are guiding pliable roots over a stream and allowing the roots to grow and strengthen over time in order to create a strong bridge, only in this instance we use a thin strip of one's skin and muscle no larger than a fingernail. As the tissue grows, we guide its development around the construct's engine and/or chassis."

"Keelah," Jan palmed the lower part of his mouthpiece. "And how long would this process take?"

Calius-Wrell shrugged. "It depends, really. If one is an experienced craftsman and engineer, no more than a few minutes, if not half an hour. If one is just starting? Probably longer."

Seeing the disgusted looks on his guests' faces, Calius-Wrell sighed. "I can't blame you for your reactions. I understand this is a lot for you to take in. If it means anything, my friends, flesh-crafted constructs isn't as common a practice as it once was. Ever since we developed fabricators on Czarnia, our world and people never wanted for anything."

Jan suddenly paused, tilting his head. "Fabricators, you say?"

The Councilor nodded. "Yes. They can replicate and create any resource that we want or need. Food, clothing, household materials, objects - we have even used this technology to create new types of lifeforms and resurrect our dead, and because of that, we have never sought to expand our world. Everything that we need can be found right here." He then gave the Quarians a curious look. "Would you like to see a demonstration?"

Hesitating, the trio looked at one another before returning their gazes back to their host.

"By all means, Councilor," Jan nodded, eager to see for himself.

Calius-Wrell smiled. "Very well!" He exclaimed with growing excitement, rubbing his hands together. "Now then, what should we start with first?"

* * * * *

Five hours later...

The journey to the hospital was long and tiresome as the Councilor's personal shuttle flew threw the skies.

Following the Councilor's demonstration, Jan and the others had been shown more of his world. Long hours had passed, and the more of Czarnia he had visited, the more Jan found himself lost in his thoughts as he regarded it with ever-growing appreciation and awe.

Everywhere he looked, he saw perfection, cleanliness, harmony and beauty.

He saw people smiling and treating each other with warmth and affection.

He saw children laughing and playing with one another, all of them happy and healthy.

Wringing his hands together on his lap, Jan looked down to the clean floor as feelings of envy, resentment, bitterness and sadness welled up inside him, along with a profound sense of despair, shame and longing, a tear escaping from the corner of his eye.

Keelah, these people were truly blessed. To live such long, happy and fulfilling lives without either sadness, fear, hatred and conflict...it seemed impossible to imagine, if not comprehend.

Everything about this world and these people seemed like something from a dream, and more than once Jan questioned whether or not he was even awake.

Everyone on this world was incredibly generous; more than once during their travels with the Councilor Jan and the others found themselves being given gifts of various shapes and sizes, all of it more than plentiful.

More than once he had tried to pinpoint something out of place, some sort of fault that he could pin the Czarnians on, and while there were one or two things that made him uncomfortable, if not find strange, he couldn't find much of anything.

One such event occurred where during a tour through the city Jan and the others had spotted a particular Czarnian that looked to be in his forties, with a thick beard and a fat belly, wearing a sleeveless grey boiler suit.

At a glance, it would have been easy to dismiss the figure; it had only been when one was up close that Jan and company had been able to discern the fact that said-individual sported two additional heads on his shoulders facing outward!

Wincing at the memory, Jan shuddered.

Keelah, that had been horrible! The mere sight of it had been so horrifying that one Marine had nearly thrown up in his own helmet while Jura had involuntarily screamed, drawing a number of startled looks from various Czarnians as they had passed by.

When he had questioned his host about it, the Councilor had revealed a particularly troubling aspect about Czarnian physiology; for the vast majority of cases, the process of birthing a clone would occur outside of the body. Whenever a Czarnian had experienced damage, their natural regenerative properties would quickly repair everything in a matter of seconds, if not minutes.

However, in some instances where there was internal damage, or where a stray piece of bone had not properly attached, occasionally complications would arise.

Typically, every piece of bone would return back to its rightful place, but sometimes, Calius-Wrell had revealed, the body would quickly repair the damage but still have a broken piece of bone that would be astray.

From this stray piece, mutations such as conjoined twins would arise, with various clones, eyes, mouths, limbs, heads and organs growing in or out from the body itself.

Usually, these oddities would be corrected via surgery, but the natural process for such events, Calius-Wrell had explained, was for the clones to pull themselves free from the host body once they had time to properly develop.

Jan shivered, wincing at the thought. Keelah, he couldn't imagine how one could even live like that.

Another uncomfortable moment had occurred when the Councilor's ship had passed over a more mountainous region.

The area, according to his host, had been a common, if not popular place to visit due to its hot springs, all of which were carefully cleaned, maintained and used.

"Your people should give it a try sometime," Callius-Wrell had said at the time. "After all, there's medicinal properties that can relieve conditions such as eczema and psoriasis. The water is also rich in zinc, which can help strengthen your immune systems."

Jan had to admit, it had been a tempting thought.

That being said, however, he had felt rather uncomfortable with the amount of nudity on display; down below the Councilor's vessel, he and the others had spotted a number of Czarnians basking in the hot springs, a mixture of males and females.

All of whom had been as nude as the day they were born, looking very much like unsuited Quarians, much to his and Jura's embarrassment.

Apparently, Czarnians were very casual in their treatment of nudity.

When queries had been made about such things, the Councilor had merely shrugged and said, "Flesh is flesh, as far as we Czarnians are concerned."

"But aren't you concerned about the health and safety of your people?" Jan had pressed. "What if a couple decides they want to engage in sexual activities?"

"Then they would have to use an isolation chamber, far away from the communal springs. No self-respecting Czarnian is going to do such a thing when there are other people present, especially with children in the area."

It had been there at the hot springs that a rather embarrassing incident had occurred; one Czarnian, a tall and handsome-looking male in his late twenties, with short black hair and broad shoulders, packed with muscle, had apparently taken notice of Jura and Sheba watching from up above.

With a sharp-toothed grin and a flare of his nictating membranes, he had started to pose for the latter, starting off by flexing the muscles on his back, then his biceps, his thighs, and then his pecks, giving both women an eyeful of his impressive musculature.

And then he had flexed his organ, causing Jura to let out a shriek in startled mortification while Sheba had jumped slightly and covered her eyes, quickly turning her head away with a laugh, both of their faces flushed.

A number of the Marines onboard had gotten a good laugh from the incident, much to Jan's displeasure, while Calius-Wrell had pinched the bridge of his nose and had offered a slew of apologies for the Czarnian's behavior.

That particular Czarnian - whom the Councilor had identified as "Jarka" - had been explained away as being something of an idiot.

"Ancestors knows, that boy can be a handful sometimes," Calius-Wrell had lamented, "but he's a good lad. I'll be sure to speak to him about this matter, if not have him apologize to Sheba and Miss Jura personally."

Following that little episode, Jan and the others had spent a little more time being directed to the many, many sites of interests before eventually calling it a day, thereby allowing Jan and the others to rest in the back of the Councilor's vessel.

As he sat in silent contemplation, Jan thought back to all that he had seen and heard and tried to reflect on his hosts' other faults...only to come up with barely anything more.

Aside from the Czarnians' unusually pacifistic and docile behavior and their many, many questionable, if not inoffensive quirks, there wasn't anything really negative to say about them as a race.

In many ways, he reflected, they were an extraordinary people - kind, benevolent and intelligent, innovative in ways that the mind could scarcely fathom.

Keelah, by all accounts, these beings were gods in every sense of the word, if not something unnervingly close to that ideal, and it both inspired and infuriated Jan in equal measure.

Staring out through the window, he watched the Czarnians as they all went about their business, an uneasy question lingering prominently at the forefront of his mind.

How close had the Quarian people been in achieving perfection back in those days, before the Morning War?

How close had they been to truly achieving a utopia of their own, where wars and violence would have ceased to exist entirely?

Had their people not made those foolish mistakes all those centuries ago...had the conflict between the Quarians and Geth been resolved early on...would Rannoch have been able to become something akin to Czarnia?

All around, Jan found himself thinking of the possibilities, about the things that could have been, about the lives that could have been saved, and the more he thought about it, the more heartbroken he became.

'We could have been great,' he thought with a mixture of bitterness and sorrow.

This could have been them...if they really had made the effort.

This could have been their dream, their glory.

Slumping in his seat, Jan was utterly silent as the vehicle rumbled on, his mind wandering as he reflected on how different things could have been were it not for their own costly mistakes.

* * * * *

Stumbling into the recovery room, Jan wearily smiled as he spotted Yena from behind her veil.

"Jan!" She greeted, sitting up from her bed. "Keelah, you look exhausted!"

He nodded. "I feel exhausted, Saera." Stretching his mouth in a yawn, Jan raised a hand to his visored face. "The Councilman has been giving me a tour of his world."

"That sounds exciting!" Yena smiled briefly, her eyes drooping. "I wish that I had been there with you."

Jan raised a hand to the veil. "You always are, Saera. In heart and soul."

Seeing her smile return made his insides warm, his heart tingling.

Lifting her fingers, Yena kissed them and pressed the digits into the cloth, feeling Jan's through the fabric.

"Likewise, my love." As Jan relished her touch, Yena settled back onto the bed. "So, how was the tour?"

"Eventful," Jan admitted. "The Czarnians are definitely the weirdest race of beings that we have ever come across."

"Also the nicest."

"Also the nicest," he conceded.

"Have you met the other Councilors?"

"No, apparently they have been dealing with a bunch of lengthy hearings." He gave an indignant harrumph. "One would think that a first contact in and of itself would be cause enough for them to put their hearings aside!"

"Now now, Jan," Yena waved, "you shouldn't be too harsh. After all, you know yourself some things can't just be lightly brushed aside."

He sighed. "True."

As he lowered himself into a chair beside Yena's gurney, his lifemate tilted her head. "...Is something wrong?"

He raised a placating hand. "No, no. I'm just tired, that's all-"

"Jan."

Seeing the serious yet knowing, if not pleading expression in her eyes, Jan hesitated, then slumped into his seat.

"...I was jealous, Saera," he quietly admitted. "Everywhere I looked, all I could think was...'this could have been us.'"

The recovery room was quiet as his words rang out, the two Quarians still in silent melancholy.

"I know it's wrong of me, and ancestors know, but..." Letting out a shuddering breath, Jan shook his head. "You should have seen the things that they have, Yena. Everything that our people strove for, everything that we strove to be, they have accomplished, and more. So, so, SO much more!" He let out a tired breath. "Keelah, I don't even know where to begin! Everywhere I looked, I saw nothing but love and wonder and...and happiness. They have achieved the impossible with this world, Yena. This world...it's a utopia. An honest to goodness utopia, and every time I think about what they have...every time I think about their achievements, I can't help comparing our own. And..." His shoulders drooped, "I can't help resenting them for their success."

A tear fell from the corner of Jan's eye as he spoke, all of his guilt and insecurity pouring out as he spoke, "Part of me hates these people, Yena." He watched as Yena blinked in surprise, taken aback by the admission as he dipped his head low, looking at the floor. "It's true. I'm...I'm not proud of saying and thinking such things, but...I can't help it. And...I feel so ashamed."

Lifting his head, Jan sniffled, his eyes meeting hers. "You deserve more, Saera. You deserve a better life, a better lifemate. Not a selfish, bitter, and hateful bosh'tet such as myself."

Another tear escaped as he lowered his eyes to his lap.

"I'm..." His lips trembled, "...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being good enough. I'm sorry for not being as kind, nor as compassionate, nor as strong, nor as loving as these people are. I'm sorry for not being able to give you the life that you should have. I'm...I'm sorry for letting you down."

As more tears trickled down his face, Jan lowered his eyes to the floor in shame.

Feeling his hand being squeezed, he listened as Yena spoke. "Please don't cry, Jan," she said soothingly, her eyes soft and warm. "You've done the best that you could, and that's more than enough, Saera."

"Is it?" he questioned, looking doubtful. "You should have seen the things that I have seen, Yena. The Czarnians...Keelah, they have accomplished...so much! This was the future that I have always envisioned for our people. For our family. I wasn't able to reclaim our homeworld, nor have I secured a place for us to call home. I have failed you, Saera. Please...please forgive me..."

As he fell silent, he felt his lifemate pat his hand through the curtain.

"You sell yourself short, my love," Yena encouraged, her voice full of emotion. "You have a beautiful dream, Jan. A wonderful dream, and you have always done what was best for our people. I've been with you through all the good times just as I have all the bad times, Saera, and ancestors willing, I will be there with you for many years to come. Nobody knows more than I that you carry such a heavy burden in looking after our people. But you aren't alone, beloved - even if you haven't created the utopia that you've envisioned, you have me and Rael. You are my home, Saera. Don't you ever forget that."

Jan's eyes softened. "Yena..."

Kissing the tips of her fingers, she planted them on the curtain, pressing into Jan's hand. "You've given me everything that I could have asked for, Jan, and I love you with all my heart for it. Please, learn to be kind to yourself, beloved. Don't let the stress of being an Admiral get to you."

For several minutes, the two Quarians clutched onto one another, separated by the curtain.

Giving her hand an affectionate squeeze, Jan softly exhaled. "You always were the strong one, Yena."

Yena merely smiled. "Only when I need to be." She patted his hand through the curtain. "So, what is going to happen now?"

Taking in a deep breath, Jan exhaled. "Right now, we're still waiting to hear back from the rest of the Migrant Fleet. Councilor Calius-Wrell is getting in contact with the other members, and in an hour from now, I am to appear before them in person in their chambers to tell them about our people. I have to admit, I'm a little nervous."

His lifemate gently squeezed his limb. "Don't be, Saera. I have faith in you. You will do right by our people. I know you will."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, doubt filling his tone.

"Because you are the man I love." She patted his hand. "Have faith, Saera. The ancestors will guide us."

Sitting by his lifemate, time stilled to a crawl as Jan felt his heart flooded with warmth. "I hope that is true, Yena," he said softly. "I pray that is so."

Together, the two Quarians sat side by side, relishing each other's company in the recovery room, while young Rael peacefully slept undisturbed in his bubble.

* * * * *

One hour later...

Jan wrung his hands together as he sat in the middle of the amphitheater, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he felt the eyes of hundreds, if not thousands staring down at him and his Marines.

Before him were four raised green marble benches with a set of stairs on either side, while an ivory relief sculpture of a beautiful woman stared down from up high.

"All rise!"

Rising from his seat along with everyone else, Jan watched as Calius-Wrell emerged from a side opening along with three other Czarnians, one male dressed in flowing black robes like himself, and two females dressed in white. Of the two females, one looked young, seemingly in her early twenties, but due to Czarnian physiology, it was possible that she was considerably older than she seemed. The other, however, was old, her face wrinkly, long and narrow, her hair long and pointed upwards in a crescent shape, as if mimicking the appearance of a crescent moon. Her most distinguishing feature, however, were the exaggeratedly long and stylized green sunglasses that she wore, which mimicked the appearance of butterfly wings, her stern-looking lips marked with bright pink lipstick.

Once the Czarnian Councillors arrived at their respective spots at the bench, the four turned to face the Quarians.

"This Council is brought to order," The old woman spoke, her voice and tone commanding, her head dipped low, her hands folded over the other, concealed by her long sleeves. Jan watched as the other Councilors mimicked the gesture, while the Quarians lowered their heads.

"Oh Universal Mother Isha and sacred ancestors, hear us! In love, in humility, in righteousness, and in respect, we gather here today in honor of you. Blessed is Isha and the ancestors who have watched over us, who have nurtured and sustained us since time immemorial, and who have guided us with your eternal wisdom, your everlasting light and divine love. Lend us your strength, your ancient wisdom, your compassion, your words, and your holy light to guide those of us who are lost, to strengthen and maintain our bonds of friendship and unity, and toward a resolution that is fair, just and true. Blessed Universal Mother and sacred ancestors, we, your children, thank thee and seek your guidance once more."

Once that was finished, the old woman looked up. "You all may be seated." As everyone settled into their chairs, the Councilors shifted their attention over to Jan. "Please step to the podium and speak into the microphone, if you would be so kind."

Swallowing, Jan nervously complied, though he tried to keep his cool.

"Greetings, Councilors and people of Czarnia," he said slowly, his voice echoing throughout the amphitheater, watching as hover drones circled and recorded him with their cameras. "I am Admiral Jan'Zorah vas Maedir of the Quarian people. Thank you for having me."

The Czarnian Councilors smiled and bowed their heads.

"Welcome, Admiral," the old woman greeted. "I am Senior Councilor Tribb, Councilor of Wisdom. The distinguished gentleman to my left is Councilor Cuchillo, Councilor of Mercy, and the gentlewoman to my right is Councilor Perra, Councilwoman of Reconciliation. You are, of course, familiar with Councilor Calius-Wrell, Councilor of Truth."

Jan watched as the latter pleasantly smiled and nodded. "Good to see you again, my friend."

"Likewise, Councilor," Jan nodded, returning the gesture.

Councilor Tribb cleared her throat. "Before we begin, allow me to extend our sincere apologies to you for our absence. It was an incredibly unfortunate turn of events that we weren't able to greet you and your people properly. I hope that you can forgive us for our transgressions and that we haven't offended you."

Jan waved. "Not at all, Madame Councilor. As a member of the Admiralty Board, I too understand the necessity of duty. Some matters are just unavoidable and need to be seen to. No offence was taken."

A smile formed on Councilor Tribb's mouth, losing the stern quality as she seemed to relax. "Thank you for being so gracious and understanding, Admiral." Adjusting herself in her seat, the old woman leaned forward. "Now then, why don't you begin by telling us a bit about yourself and your people. I'm sure everyone here is eager to know how you managed to come upon our world."

Clearing his throat, Jan spoke into the microphone, complying with her request as he began with his tale.

Speaking in length and in detail, he told the Councilors everything, starting with their planet, his people's history and culture, and the numerous technological innovations that they had achieved.

At first, he kept it light, but once he delved deeper into their history with the Geth and the Morning War, however, Jan felt the very air change, the mood plummeting quickly, resulting in a prolonged and stunned silence that made him deeply uncomfortable.

After he notified them of his possessing holographic video recordings of that horrific conflict, he urged the Czarnian Council to review the footage in private rather than show and cause distress to their fellow Czarnians.

Thankfully, the Councilors accepted his request.

"We will review the footage and adjourn for the time being," Councilor Tribb declared. "We shall reconvene in an hour's time."

For the next hour, all Jan could do was sit and wait for their decision, and he dreaded their response.

When they finally returned, he noticed a solemn air surrounding the four. Councilor Perra in particular quietly wept, drawing confusion and concern from the other Czarnians. Beside her, Calius-Wrell sat in silence, his crimson eyes drooping, while Councilor Tribb sat stone-faced, her features hard to read.

Cupping her mouth, tears trailed down from beneath the latter's green sunglasses, the old woman shaking her head.

"T-Thank you..." She swallowed, "...thank you for allowing us to review the footage and for warning us, Admiral. We...I..." Struggling to speak, Councilor Tribb exhaled. "Please continue with your testimony, if you would be so kind."

Complying, Jan finished off his story by telling them all of his peoples' troubles, of their persecution and struggle.

Nothing was withheld, and not once had the Councilors said anything, nor had they made any efforts to interrupt.

After he finally finished his tale of woe and explained the circumstances of their arrival, right up until their fateful meeting with the Czarnians, Jan answered and clarified all of their questions as best as he could, including what he hoped to do for his people.

Once that was done, he stood before them, waiting to see their reactions.

For several moments, all was still as the Councilors sat in silence, mourning and contemplation, all of them struggling to deal with the horrors that they have been exposed to. Councilor Tribb herself wore a deceptive mask of calm, but she too was affected.

In an act that caught Jan by surprise, the old woman removed her sunglasses and exposed her red eyes as she wiped them clean with a piece of tissue taken from her pocket.

Finally, the Councilors temporarily adjourned, stepping off the bench to caucus, the meeting lasting no more than ten minutes.

Once they finished, they returned back to their respective spots behind the bench, settling in.

"Thank you for your testimony, Admiral," Councilor Tribb nodded. "You have given us much to discuss and think about. For what it's worth, Admiral, I am truly sorry for all the loss, pain and hardship that your people have suffered - I cannot even begin to express my sorrow, let alone fathom what that must have been like for you."

As the other Councilors murmured in agreement, the old woman pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of her nose.

"Based on your testimony and the evidence that you have provided to our chambers, my fellow Councilors and I have discussed at length over what should be done, and a consensus has been reached."

'Here it is,' Jan sourly thought, bracing himself for the coming rejection.

"Admiral Jan'Zorah vas Maedir," Councilor Tribb began, "will you and your people be our neighbors?"

A stunned silence followed, the Quarian staring with wide eyes as he found himself barely registering, his ears disbelieving what he just heard.

"W...What?" he stammered.

Surely he had misheard.

Before him, Councilor Tribb offered a kind and grandmotherly smile. "Will you and your people be our neighbors?"

Staring in shock, Jan stood at the podium, unsure what to make of her question.

"...Why?" he breathed, feeling all the wind knocked out of him.

"Why not?" Councilor Tribb queried. "Your people have endured great misfortune and have gone through so much. Would it not be unkind and unneighborly to push you all out, especially when your immune systems are so vulnerable?"

Jan stared, completely at a loss for words.

"S-Surely your people would object to this," he murmured.

To his growing surprise, the Czarnians all murmured back and shook their heads, all of their features filled with nothing but concern and compassion.

"But...But we're strangers!" He protested, his voice low, his eyes tearing up. "Why...why would you would open your homes to someone you don't even know?"

"Every stranger is a potential friend," Councilor Calius-Wrell replied, "regardless of where they may come from. No matter the age, no matter the sex, no matter the race, no matter one's path or station, whether you agree with them on all things, on most things, on some things or none at all. However, the truly meritorious are the ones who go out of their way to earn that friendship, and your people deserve to be given that opportunity when so many have wrongfully closed their doors to them. We have met as strangers, yes... but...we are more than willing to have you as our neighbors. I have no doubt there may be differences between our cultures, even potential challenges for us to face in the future, but we are willing to learn. However, should you choose to accept our hand of friendship, we can overcome these obstacles side by side and allow our bonds to grow into something more. What those bonds and the future will look like for us, none of us know...but I see no reason why your people cannot coexist in peace with ours."

Jan's mouth felt dry as he stood before them, feeling overwhelmed.

"What if we refuse?" he asked.

Calius-Wrell shrugged. "Nothing. We will resupply and repair your ship and send you on your way. That being said...you will be far better off than how you were. Not only will we give you fabricators and 3d printers, but we can also outfit your ship with self-repair functions so that even the most severe damage can be repaired within minutes. Whatever equipment, tools and/or piece of technology you wish to take with you, whatever you need to help you on your journey, it is yours."

Jan's mouth parted, his eyes watery.

How could a race be so...kind and generous?

"You would..." he swallowed. "You would be willing to do that for us? Even...even if we decide not to stay?"

Councilor Tribb smiled. "Of course. It is the least that we can do for you. It would be poor manners on our part to just send you off and expect you to fend for yourselves. We Czarnians pride ourselves on being neighborly, even when we disagree on some things. The choice is yours." The old woman gave him an expectant look. "So then, Admiral, what say you? Will you and your people be our neighbors?"

For the first time in his life, Jan found himself completely and utterly unprepared.

As he looked around the Council Chambers, he returned his gaze back to the Councilors.

Swallowing, Jan felt a single tear escape from the corner of his eye as he made his decision.

* * * * *

Stars twinkled brightly across the cosmic expanse, the fabrics of space and time shifting and rippling with change.

Following their reception of Jan's carefully encrypted message, the Migrant Fleet travelled to the coordinates contained within, whereupon they ended up stumbling across a world and people unlike anything ever encountered.

There, they were greeted by Admiral Jan'Zorah vas Maedir, and together with the Czarnian Council, diplomatic relations were established between the two species, the latter unexpectedly greeting the former with open arms.

But even more importantly, for the first time in centuries, the Quarian people were finally able to hope, to dream, and have a place to call home.

Two species and worlds, once separated by the boundaries of space and time, now came together for the first time, forever altering their respective destinies.

From this fateful encounter, a choice was made, one that would forge new paths for the two species, its impact far-reaching and profound.

Thus concludes one adventure, and the start of another.

"Ubi concordia, ibi semper victoria. (Where there is unity, there is always victory.)"

- Publilius Syrus

* * * * *

Author's Note: For a while now, I've always wanted to do a story based on Czarnia, just because I've always felt saddened by the fate of its people in the comics. 

I mean, a peaceful race of beings who had the misfortune of inadvertently birthing a cold-blooded bastard like Lobo and getting killed off simply just because - how can one not feel sorry for them? Granted, Lobo is a terrific villain/anti-hero, but at the same time, his origin is the most horrifying compared to other characters within the DCU.

Likewise, I had wanted to do a story based on the Quarians from "Mass Effect" because of the fact that I've also felt sorry for them as well, especially after watching their destruction in one of the optional choices in ME3 that ultimately ended up culminating in Tali's death.

Needless to say, that scene made me incredibly depressed, thus I wanted to do something to alleviate that.

So, I kind of thought, what would happen if these two different races met?

One of the inspirations for this story, funnily enough, sort of came from looking at some of the initial concept art for the much-maligned New 52 Lobo; while there were some cool designs that gave Lobo a kind of cyber-samurai/ronin sort of look, one drawing in particular sort of drew my attention, a design that was far too slim with what looked like digitigrade, almost insect-like legs and feet.

Combined with what looked like three-fingered hands and dainty limbs, I couldn't help being reminded of the Quarians, albeit without a hood or visor. 

Not what I would call "Lobo" by any stretch of the imagination - even Lobo back in his early "Omega Men" days was nowhere near THAT thin - but it was a design that kind of kickstarted the gears in my head.

The other reason for doing this story was to also examine Czarnia itself and kind of reflect about how their society worked. I mean, this was a race of beings that would create clones from drops of blood - how would that affect one's rights, employment and relationships? How would that impact those rights in relation to property? If every clone possessed the same memories and personality of the original, how would one be able to distinguish the clone from the predecessor? What would happen to the clone if they ended up entering the afterlife?

I used the comics for reference, but a lot of the details about Czarnians were somewhat vague, if not a little inconsistent. I took bits and pieces from different eras such as DC's Pre-Crisis and Post-Crisis Eras along with New 52, although I didn't want them to be as militant as that latter version.

Admittedly, I kind of took some inspiration from the Aeldari from "Warhammer 40K", especially from their golden age, but because the Czarnians were these freakishly strong alien beings with incredible empathic and regenerative properties, it seemed like a fun exercise in examining different aspects of their beings and culture based on the traits that they possessed. I wanted the Czarnians to feel distinctly alien as opposed to their just being interstellar clowns/vampires but nicer.

Don't know if I was successful on that front, but I tried.

In terms of their technology, the idea of the Czarnians using their own flesh sort of came from looking at some of the Lobo comics of old; whenever Lobo got his bike trashed, he was always somehow able to rebuild it, even going so far as to create insanely powerful superweapons from garbage.

Now, granted, the comics were largely based around dark humor, so, one could chalk that as being Loony Tunes shenanigans or his being a "gag character", though I'm not crazy about that route and explanation as a Lobo fan.

I wanted to do something interesting with the Czarnians and by extension Lobo that made him more than that, just because the Main Man even during his debut in 1983's "Omega Men" had always been more than a gag character.

I considered a number of possible explanations - that Lobo was something like an Ork from 40K where he can just bend reality to his whims through sheer force of will, that he had supplies on his person, etc - but then I thought about his regenerative properties and some of the potential applications for it, and that lead to some very unexpected though interesting routes.

What if Lobo's bike and equipment were created from his own flesh?

So, I kind of figured to give this story a shot and see how people would react.

Shout-outs to Egyptianmaus and Stuff3 for their help - thank you so much guys! :D

Stay safe and healthy, everyone! :D