[b]T h e [center] [ C O N S O R T I U M ][/center][/b]

It had been seven days since the Reapers began their assault on Palaven. The number of casualties were too large to fathom. Angorles knew the situation was bad, not just from the news feeds but from his loss of contact with some of his business associates. He had several pods of security personnel protecting various clients' assets on Palaven, and none of them managed to get back in contact with Angorles in the last week. He grimly surmised that they never would.

He stood by the dark metal wall with his arms folded behind his back. His small white eyes looked out the large picture window at the bustling Presidium. A faint humming could be heard through the wall; it was the sound of the generator that produced the mass effect field which cloaked the window. Angorles took no chances with assassins, and although his human accomplice would complain constantly about the sound, he knew they were better off.

He turned to look at his two partners. The human had a small compact mirror in the palm of her hand which she was using to examine a blemish on her chin. Next to her was Lysia, the asari diplomat, who was sitting with her arms curled over the conference table. She emitted a sense of regality almost as tangible as the mass effect field shielding the window. "Everything is in order on my end," she declared. "I have received approval from all the major military organizations. They are willing to accept the Unity's help. This, of course, is not unconditional; we will still need to flag down their commanding officers and acquire their approval before interfering with their operations."

"Of course," Angorles said in his gruff, layered voice. He turned toward the human. "Ms. Raleen, are your people set up for the ceremony?"

The human flourished with her hands, as if to swat the question away altogether. "Of course they are," she said coolly. "As soon as we arrive, they'll start filming the ceremony. Too bad we couldn't make it open to the public; that would have drummed up a lot more excitement than a private ceremony."

"These kinds of military ceremonies are not usually public," Angorles pointed out.

"Oh, of course not, but we're not regular military, are we?" The human clicked her mirror shut and looked directly at her partners for the first time that meeting. "My people will get the vid edited and sent out to broadcast within the afternoon. Everyone on the Citadel will be talking about Project Unity very soon. Well, more than they have already."

"And they'll be donating to it," the turian added. "We won't be able to afford to adequately equip the project without money. Regardless--" He gestured for his accomplices to rise. He strode to the door, clicked it open, and stood to the side as Naria and Lysia walked through. "We've made it this far. I find myself in a... peculiar state of optimism today." His mandibles bristled as the words came to him. "I have faith in this project, more faith than I have had in anything in a long time. We should all be careful to not mess this up." There was an ominous edge in the last few words, and the warning was not lost to Naria nor Lysia. However, they had grown accustomed to Angorles's severity, and their reaction was minimal. The three of them made their way toward his armored limousine.

[center]* * * * * * * * * *[/center]

The ceremony was being held in the [i]Unity[/i]'s docking area. The space had been blocked off for the occasion, with Angorles's security lackeys being the ones to keep civilians from crossing the perimeter. Naria Raleen's camera drones were floating around everywhere, accompanied by her best reporters. Lysia had managed to get several political figures to attend the ceremony and endorse the project. Everything was going as planned.

All the members of the Unity's crew stood erect and emotionless in rows on the left and right of an elevated podium. They donned their formal clothing, the only pair any of them were allotted and which they would only wear on this day. These uniforms were mostly black with some strips of blue along the wrists and collars, and the occasional flash of silver buttons. There were slight detail modifications for each species of the crew, but they were very well unified. 

A human male with a silver-rimmed hat climbed the steps to the podium. He lifted his arms up in the air and placed his hands on the sides of the structure. His eyes were small and blue, and they surveyed the docking bay. The dignitaries had been chatting amongst each other or with the reporters when this imposing human flicked his finger against the microphone twice. Almost immediately, the attendees hushed and took their seats.

"Good afternoon," he said flatly. "I am Nikolas Kruschov, the commander of the vessel behind me." He opened his arm toward the enormous glass wall behind him. It looked out into the little pocket of Citadel airspace that housed the sleek black ship with gold stripes on its wings. "And, I am the man responsible for this fine team before me." The rows of the Unity crew stood still as statues as applause filled up the room. Kruschov let the clapping ride out, then continued with his speech. "I am going to keep this brief because there is a galaxy in desperate need of assistance, which we will begin to provide for as soon as this ceremony has concluded. Project Unity is a beacon of hope in a grim time. The Reapers have devastated homeworlds and obliterated colonies, but--" He held up a single block-like hand emphatically. "They will not defeat us if we stand united. The people on this ship are one. They have come from Thessia, Irune, Earth, Palaven, you name it, but they stand as a single unified force. This is what will make us-- not just the [i]Unity[/i], but the entire galaxy-- strong enough to win this war!" As he said those last words, his fist hit the podium three times like a gavel in a courtroom. Instead of creating silence, it caused an eruption of enthusiastic applause from the audience. Nikolas leaned back and watched with approval. He yelled, "We must stand as one! And why not? We [i]all[/i] have a common enemy. The Reapers will fall at the hands of our collective might." The commotion carried on, energetic waves of hope and inspiration sparked from each clap. It had almost been an entire minute before Nikolas Kruschov leaned back into the microphone. "I am proud to lead this ship on its path to glory. I am proud to lead these brave, exceptional people to do great things, great things that start today. I will now hand the room over to the Consortium, who will answer any questions you have while the Unity takes its first flight. Thank you all for your continued support. This is the start of a new era of cooperation that will lead us beyond the Reapers to the safety and prosperity we knew before." 

In one unanimous deft movement, the grid of [i]Unity[/i] crew members snapped into an upright position. Their hands rose in salute over their determined eyes, and one by one they marched down the docking bay and into the ship.