*Mongdrigo*
The imposter raised a single, blue-hued hand and spoke. “I come bearing a message. An ultimatum, more accurately.” His voice was cold, inhuman. Mechanical. His hand lowered, folded behind his back. “You, Malgus, have become quite the…headache, as you forms say. You’ve broken our quarantine of this planet. No doubt, you barely grasp what the lifeforms here pose to the galaxy.” He made an odd, muffled cough, as the disguise vanished. Instead of Anakin’s visage, the visitor’s true face was revealed. Two horseshoe shapes stacked at angles with each other, a ruby red eye on each of the side protrusions, a strange proboscis on the bottom and a strange membrane on top.
“Now, let me clarify a few facts. These…Mongdrigans, are a sigma-class infestation. Simulations infer that an unchecked population would strip a planet of its resources within a handful of years. We had isolated them to this planet, poisoning it to keep their population small. We allowed them transorbital flight, after a time, to keep them from exploring further. By removing all life from the system aside from their own, it would dissuade them from exploring further. And yet,” he cast a withering glance to the Sangheili, before setting his gaze on Malgus. “You have grown attached to this…infestation. Sangheilios has been saved, and the situation on Coruscant has been handled. But now, we face a crossroads. Your meddling with this species was unforeseen, your victory against Brottleheim even moreso. So I have come as a peaceful envoy. Take your men, your technology, and leave this planet. Within the hour, our contingency plan will be inacted, reducing the Mongdrigan population to below half. Afterwards, we will rewrite their memories, removing your involvement and of the past. Tabula rasa, such the ancient Earthlings would say.”
*Vault 22, Mojave Desert, Terra*
A flurry of green plasma arced through the once sterile hallways of Vault 22, splashing against the carnivorous plants that grew uncontested. Meanwhile, practiced hands picked the lock of yet another box, a bag full of scavenged goods beside it.
After another burst, the plasma rifler spoke.
“You gonna drag your feet any more? I’m about ready to cook this place. Running low on cells.”
The lockpicker chuckled.
“Settle yerself. I’m almost through. Gotta be a password in here, yeah? Then we’ll copy the data on that terminal and make like trees, present company ignored.”
A sigh of frustration preceded another burst of fire.
“Tyberius Sent, you never take anything seriously.”
Tyberius laughed heartily as the safe door swung open.
“Gotta give that razor sharp wit of yours a rest sometimes, Six. C’mon, let’s scoot.”