Mass Effect is own by BioEAWare. Concept based off the A&E Entertainment program 'LivePD'.

Office of Administration, Tenth Floor, C-SEC Academy, Tosh District, Lower Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, February 8, 2175

Michael Patrick Greene sat in a lobby wing of the Office of Administration for the Citadel Security Services main headquarters, known as the Academy. The twenty-two year old Earth-born man was a little at unease at the sight of other sapients, seeing aliens that he had only seen in pics, vids, and holovision shows now within fairly close proximity of him. Oh, he had seen some on Earth, visiting for whatever reasons, but he had never talked to one or stood near one before. Seeing a Turian in full armor working at the front desk within a few meters had Mike trying not to stare at the obvious differences between a Human Being and a Turian Being; the plated face, horizontal mandibles that laid alone the mouth and jaw, the long tapered fringe that extended pass the skull, and the fact that the Turian had three long, pointed claws instead of fingers. Actually, Mike was fascinated to see that the talon-like protrusions were actually semi-flexible, so they weren't like the claws of a lion or a bear, though they certainly did look dangerous.

"Serah Greene?" The Turian looked up from his Haptic monitor at his desk, slightly ovaloid creme-green eyes looking at the Human man. "The Prelate will see you now." Mike nodded as he stood up and automatically ran a hand down his polo shirt to smooth it out for better presentability. A Prelate was the equivalent of a Commander or a Captain in C-SEC, in charge of a division or department in law enforcement. He had looked up some of the ranks, departments, bureaus, and sections of Citadel Security Services on his flight from Earth to the Citadel to get a better feel of the bureaucracy of it. All of it boiled down to one thing.

Future Content Network's idea of embedding a reporter with a Citadel Police Officer for a immersion law enforcement holovision show to be known as 'LiveC-SEC'.

For the past few months, there had been some incidences involving Citadel Security Services and the Human population on the Citadel. It had only been a decade or so since members of Humanity had been allowed to live on the Citadel, and less than that since the Systems Alliance had been allowed an Embassy. The Sons and Daughters of Terra were still the galactic newcomers, not to mention that First Contact had happened in a shadow war against the Turian Hierarchy as two Palavenian Fleets had engaged the colonists of Shanxi in an illegal war starting with the supposed access of a Human vessel and an unmapped Mass Relay that accumulated with a four-month war between Turians and Humans on and around the colonial world of Shanxi. It had been almost twenty years since the Asari stepped in to prevent more attrosities from occuring, and the whole debacle of the Hierarchy lying to the Citadel Council of Law and the Citadel Chamber of Governance of their actions meaning that the Turian Councilor, the Turian Chamberlain, the Turian Ambassador, and the Turian Primarch had all been sacked in the aftermath, the Hierarchy forced to pay restitution and repartations to not only the Shanxians, but deploying members of the Systems Alliance Navy and Marine Corps and their family members for those who lost a son or daughter defending Mankind.

Awkwardly tense was a pretty apt description for relations between Palavenians and Terrans. On the good days, as Mike understood it.

The twenty-two year old man went from the lobby to a door that automatically slid open after it chimed its acceptance to his approach, showing him a corridor that ran through an office-like setting that wouldn't be too far out of place from a corporate building with its cubicles and workers diligent at whatever duties they were performing on their personal monitors and terminals save that he saw at least half-a-dozen different species represented. The first thing he noted was that he didn't see one Human Being in sight from the five to six dozen Officers that were obviously some sort of Administration department, probably filing evidence and logs for Citadel Security; the joke was that the lifeblood of law enforcement was paperwork and datawork. Mike went down the corridor past the many cubicles to his left and offices that were on his right, each with placards announcing the person who occupied it, their rank and their position in eight different languages, thankfully Alliance Standard English being one of them. He had been given directions, and Mike followed them faithfully, not wanting to muck up in the middle of a massive police station.

The office in question was at the end of the corridor, and read Prelate Cantius Camrinus, Prelate of Administration (C-SEC Academy). Mike took a deep breath and walked towards the door, chiming with permissible access and opening automatically.

He found himself walking into a fair-sized office dominated by a work desk and a large male Turian in full body armor that glared at him as he entered.

"Serah Greene." The flanged voice spoke with as neutral a tone as Mike had ever heard as a taloned finger pointed towards an available seat in front of his desk. "Have a seat. Your… escort will be here momentarily." The Human man complied wordlessly as he took a seat, wondering what would happen in the next few minutes. Oh, he knew what the intent was, and FCN had flexed some network muscle to get the Human Embassy to push forward something to stem the recent… tensions between Humans and Turians on the Citadel (which filtered down to the various networks in Earth Alliance Space). This whole idea was a way to ease the tensions that were growing between the Turian Hierarchy and Systems Alliance with a plan that came right out of the Roman playbook, actually.

Panem an Circuses; bread and entertainment, feed the public with glittering toys and distractions. It was sickening that such things still worked rather well on the public.

Mike didn't have to wait long as the door to the Prelate's office opened once more about a minute after he had sat down to admit another Human Being into the location; this one a C-SEC Officer. A dozen like himself had been sent to the Citadel as a part of a plan by Future Content Network to create an immersion law enforcement reality show to be known as 'LiveC-SEC'; reporters that would be embedded with an Citadel Officer of the Law to highlight Human contributions in the Center of the Known Universe while showcasting Humans making their way in the galaxy. Instead of one of the myriad melodramas or romcom sitcoms that one could find hundreds to pick from on ENetFlix, FCN wanted one that was nittier-and-grittier, a real view of what an average person saw in the Citadel while showing off the Citadel in other ways besides panoramic shots and show studios. They had wanted realism, and so it had been decided that the best way to do that was to embed reporters with Human C-SEC Officers to give Humanity something else to look at while also promoting Human endeavors in the Center of the Known Universe.

There were less than a hundred Human Citadel Security Service Officers in the entirety of the Citadel after twelve years on the Prothean-built station to choose from… and Mike Greene had picked the only female officer that had actually stuck it out for more than a year.

"Prelate." The female officer in question came to the office, her green eyes touching him for a moment before returning to the Turian Prelate. "What's going on?" Mike had seen those eyes look at him; assessment, the eyes of a cop who weighed anything and everything instantly, experience backing up their profiling and decision. Something was unusual, and this woman was already trying to figure out why a civilian such as himself was in the office of the Captain of Administration in C-SEC Academy while she was requested to come so far from her normal precinct at the exact same time. No doubt she knew something was going on as those green eyes assessed.

"Decantus Shepard." Prelate Camrinus pointed to another available chair as the fully-armed-and-armored woman in C-SEC periwinkle-blue-and-soft-black colors took to the seat, the colors offset by her pale Euros-colored skin that was smattered with a riot of light tan freckles and a shock of coppery red hair held back in a simple ponytail. "To put it simply, your species Ambassador has… pushed forward a proposition that I don't agree with but must enact by order of the Executor of C-SEC." The woman's jaw flexed slightly, as if she had bitten into something unexpectedly sour. "Some empty-fringed idiot thinks it's a good idea to help calm things by introducing an interactive journalist to several Human Civil Patrol Officers in the hopes of making a…", the Turian grunted as he picked up a nearby datapadd to consult something, "…a reality show spotlighting Human Officers and the efforts of Citadel Security Services."

"And… I was selected because I'm the only Human woman remaining in C-SEC." The Decantus looked over to Mike, and he saw how much approval there was in those green eyes of hers; exactly zero. "Perfect. What brain-dead clochea agreed to that idea? I assume I'm not getting a change of precinct."

"No, your duty section and patrol route will remain the same." The reporter suspected that there was a hint of amusement from the Turian. "And if you wish to know, just ask the Human next to you. He was the one that selected you."

Those green eyes returned to him, hard and merciless. Certainly the eyes of a veteran cop with three years on the force.

"Got a spouse? Kids? Girlfriend or boyfriend?" The Decantus asked, her tone completely without tone or inflection.

"No, why?" Mike asked, a little taken aback by the chitchat sort of questions. Those were usually asked on a more personal level, not amongst strangers. And he was the reporter!

"Then I suggest calling your parents, cookie dough." The redheaded woman told him, and he could see how much sympathy there was in those green eyes of hers; exactly zero. "You might last the month, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

"You think I'll quit?" Mike asked, a little taken aback.

"No." Decantus Shepard replied, shaking her head as she smiled at him. There was nothing good in that smile; it wasn't the smile of a pretty woman, but a cop who was looking at someone that had just royally fucked-up by admitting to a crime.

"I think you'll be dead."

The Prelate just grunted, but didn't argue or disagree as Mike looked to him, and then back to Shepard.

"Welcome to the Orlop Zakera Outer Tract Section, cookie dough."

Shepard Segment #1

C-SEC Academy, Tosh District, Lower Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, February 8, 2175

[BEGIN POINT-OF-VIEW RECORDING]

[POV shows what's known as a Citadel Security Services Motor Pool where Cipritine Aerovessel Company X3M Contragravity Skycars are located, colored and labeled as C-SEC Police Sky-Cruisers. Decantus JANE CATHERINE SHEPARD is in the lead, heading towards one of the Sky-Cruisers as POV follows her in the motor pool]

MICHAEL PATRICK GREENE: So we're going back to your precinct?

CORPORAL JANE CATHERINE SHEPARD: Yeah, I'm not having you walked around in the Lowers in a shirt and slacks, cookie dough. You'll be target practice within the hour and I don't feel like scraping your corpse off the Concourse.

[SHEPARD waives a blue-colored OmniTool over the gullwing door of the Sky-Cruiser, and an audible chime is heard; the Skycar unlocks. Both gullwing doors swing upward. SHEPARD enters the 'driver side' as POV enters the passenger side]

MPG: This your cruiser?

JCS: HA! That's funny. You realize that you picked a Civil Patrol Officer, right? Mobile Patrol have the Cruisers, I'm the bloody infantry.

[POV shows SHEPARD looking at POV's footwear]

JCS: We're going to have to take you shoe-shopping, cookie dough. Those Oxfords of yours are going to be terrible on your feet. Bet you'll be crying by about halfway through the shift.

[The gullwing doors close as SHEPARD taps a few options on the in-board computer at the center of the dashboard]

JCS: Never actually used one of these things before.

[SHEPARD looks to POV]

JCS: You are in some kind of actual decent shape for a Human Being, right? Can actually walk a kilometer or two without having a hissy fit or a heart attack?

MPG: I played European Football in Secondary Gymnasium.

JCS: Oh, good. You'll be able to outrun the wobblies and the slows. Anything else chases you down, and you're just going to be not-so-fast food.

[The Sky-Cruiser lifts up and begins heading towards the Motor Pool Entrance to leave. SHEPARD doesn't touch the yoke, everything automated. THe POV shows the Sky-Cruiser leaving the Motor Pool and into a Skylane for the Lower Presidium Ring, where dozens of two-hundred meter buildings stand as the Cruiser merges into a lightly-trafficked lane before SHEPARD takes the yoke]

MPG: So where is it that you patrol, Decantus Jane Shepard?

JCS: Corporal, actually. Turians refuse to use Human ranks. And I patrol the Zakera Arm, Outer Tract, Orlop Wards. [SHEPARD looks to POV] If you were hoping a nice little cush job walking the beat in the 'sidium, then you're going to be sorely disappointed, cookie dough. [SHEPARD looks back to traffic, flying along with traffic]Did you pick me out of a hat, or just look though the roster of remaining Human Officers that didn't quit or get hurt and go 'oh, gee, look! A chick cop! That'll boost ratings!'. No bull[beep], cookie dough.

MPG: I… uh…

JCS: You picked the only girl cop.

MPG: …you're also… um, a cute redhead, too. It would poll well.

[SHEPARD just looks at POV with a fixed stare instead of traffic]

MPG: You said 'no bull[beep]'! That's the no bull[beep] answer!

[SHEPARD finishes the glare and returns her attention to traffic]

JCS: Great, three years on the force and the only thing people are going to give a [beep] about is the fact that I have a pair of nice [beep] and a nice [beep]. [POV turns to see traffic instead of SHEPARD, seeing a dozen or so flying Skycars before it] Did you even look at my record or anything before picking the cute redhead?

[POV looks to SHEPARD, then away]

JCS: [beep]ing perfect. You're really getting nothing but [beep]ing net here, cookie dough.

[POV turns to SHEPARD]

JCS: What? Need a close-up of my cute redhead face? Do I need to visit a make-up artist before we walk neck-deep in the rough?

MPG: You're… kinda suppose to narrate. I fill in some portions, and you fill in on the day-to-day activities of a Citadel Security Service Officer.

JCS: Yeah, I'm so [beep]ing glad that someone gave me a script or some other bull[beep] before stapling your [beep] to my hip. I'll [beep]ing narrate when we're actually [beep]ing filming or whatever.

[Awkward silence]

JCS: What?

MPG: Um…

[SHEPARD turns to POV, face red with obvious anger]

JCS: You're… [beep]ing [beep]ing me right now, right? You're filming? Now?

MPG: …yeah. It's an interactive cop show.

JCS: And you couldn't [beep]ing cue me in like, "hey! I press this little toggle or call out 'action' and we're rolling!" No wonder you don't have a girlfriend or a boyfriend if this is how you act on a first date.

[Awkward silence]

JCS: So how long have we been rolling? I guess that's why you asked me about the whole patrol thing a bit ago.

MPG: We've been broadcasting since before we got in the Cruiser. We're not allowed to catch images or vids of the inside working of C-SEC so we don't spoil investigations or any procedures to criminal elements.

JCS: Huh. You do have standards. That's a shocker.

MPG: Um, you know the whole 'cue you in' thing?

JCS: Yes?

MPG: They did tell you what this show was going to be about, right?

JCS: You were there with me when Prelate Camrinus briefed me. You guys are making a reality cop show to help ease tensions or whatnot.

MPG: Well… it's called 'LiveC-SEC'. [Awkward cough from POV] 'Live' is kinda the key term here.

[Awkward silence, and SHEPARD slowly turns to look at POV]

JCS: You mean you're not only filming me right now… but it's being shown on holovision as we [beep]ing speak?

MPG: It's a live interactive reality cop show. There's only a fifteen second delay for editing of language or disturbing scenes. Otherwise…

JCS: Whatever I say and do goes and shows live on HV without any real control by your company or corporation or whatnot?

MPG: …essentially.

[SHEPARD stares out the front of the Skycruiser as a slow smile builds on her face]

JCS: You know… I just had a real nasty idea.

MPG: I should probably tell you that there are a dozen other interactive journalists with a dozen other Human C-SEC Officers being filmed as we speak. You do something bad, and they can just switch it to any one of theirs. Technically, I have no idea if we're actually being 'broadcasted' right now. We could show up at a later segment just so people can laugh at you for finding out the hard way. And I really thought C-SEC knew. They were told. I thought you came in knowing at least the premise of what was going on.

JCS: So it's a roulette wheel of action and whoever scores the most drama is likely the one on the screen, right?

MPG: That's how I got it, yeah. I'm not one of the producers or one of the tech guys in the control room, but that's probably the gist of it.

[SHEPARD is still looking out the window, nodding her head slowly]

JCS: Got your diapers on, cookie dough? Because I got a score to settle with an old friend.

MPG: Like… a bust?

[SHEPARD looks at POV]

JCS: We're going to meet the piece of [beep] that murdered my partner and [beep]ing got away with it on a stupid-[beep] technicality thanks to his scum-sucking high-priced [beep]hole Defense Councilor.

[POV just looks at SHEPARD as SHEPARD turns back to face traffic]

JCS: Probably should have looked at my service record before picking the cute redhead, cookie dough.

Shepard Segment #2

CPTA Lot, Block 3650 (Skywards), Zakera Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, February 8, 2175

[BEGIN POINT-OF-VIEW RECORDING]

CORPORAL JANE CATHERINE SHEPARD: So… is this the part where I narrate like a movie trailer or promo?

MICHAEL PATRICK GREENE: Yeah. Shouldn't I be in… some sort of armor?

JCS: Naw, where we're going is pretty tame; a business. Okay. [Clears throat] I mean, what do I say? Do I start with my name and explain what's going to happen, or just give a teaser?

MPG: Name, where we're at, and intent will probably be for the best.

JCS: Okay. [SHEPARD looks out the front of the Skycruiser] My name is Corporal Jane Shepard, and I'm a three-year veteran C-SEC Officer of the Lower/Orlop Zakera Outer Tract Sector Precinct. Today… [SHEPARD pauses] …today we're going to confront the piece of [beep] that killed my partner and completely got away with it. [SHEPARD looks to POV] Centurion Castis Adepdos has a bondmate and two hatchlings, a boy and a girl, four and two years old. Their sire died protecting the law and people, and the piece of [beep] that profits off the misery of others completely got away with it. [There's an obvious tear in SHEPARD's eye that goes unchecked and unnoticed] The establishment we're about to walk into belongs to that piece of [beep]. It's a front, a legal business that he launders his drug money through so he can act like he's king high-and-mighty. It might be his kingdom, but it's supported by a facade and a veil of barely legal money and he can't afford the spotlight. I'm going to stomp all over his [beep] like Queen [beep] and rub in his face that he can't do [beep].

MPG: Okay… um… what do you want me to do? I'm not a cop, I'm not in armor, and I'm certainly not armed or anything.

JCS: I wouldn't be so sure of that last one, cookie dough. Just follow my lead, keep your mouth shut… and be ready to conduct an interview when I tell you to with a Citadel-class piece of [beep]. I need you to be what you are; a journalist. We do this right… [SHEPARD pauses] …we can avenge a good man who was killed by some [beep]ing piece of [beep] who wants to poison people with narcotics, make Credits off of destroying people and families, and…

[Awkward silence]

JCS: The hardest thing I ever had to do was to hold two children asking when their sire was coming home, holding them while they cried when I had to tell them that he was never coming home again. [SHEPARD looks to POV] What am I suppose to tell them when they get older and they see their sires' killer out in public, never having served a day in an IsoCube or even graced a damn containment cell? Because he has some slick-[beep] [beep]ing Asari [beep] piece of [beep] who makes a living getting [beep]holes like that off and giving good, honest cops a bad name. [SHEPARD looks ahead] I just got off a month's suspension-without-pay along with two bullets pulled out of my back because we were this close to nailing that [beep]sucker right and proper when he retaliated by putting a hit out on us with baited evidence. Killed my partner. Damn near lost my badge and my own life. And while I'm in a hospital and my partner's in the morgue, that [beep]ing [beep]sucking piece of [beep] thinks himself the winner of this game, sipping pricey booze served by naked enslaved Asari Maidens while he continues to sell his Sand to the poor and downcast people of my Precinct, profiting off of destroyed lives and the overdoses. I'm the one that's there to pick up the pieces while he sits on his little tin god throne thinking himself my better.

[Awkward silence. SHEPARD looks to POV]

JCS: My Prelate told me not to make this personal. But he didn't [beep]ing watch his partner breath blood in his last moments, bleeding out and praying to the Spirits that his son and daughter would grow up to be good citizens and mind their dam while I'm laying next to him with two bullets in my back.

[Pause]

JCS: [Beep]ing-A right this is personal. Killed Castis, damn near killed me, made a widow of his bondmate and his children are going to have to grow up never remembering their sire and that [beep]er walked. I'm not letting Maxivus and Lutania grow up knowing that their sires' last act was to accost a 'simple businessman' that somehow magically got him killed in the line-of-duty. If I can't do something right, then I'm going to do something good.

[SHEPARD looks forward]

JCS: I hope you're wearing your big girl panties, cookie dough. Time to nut up.

[The pilot-side gullwing door of the Skycruiser opens, and SHEPARD exits the vessel]

MPG: Oh… oh [beep]. This certainly wasn't covered in Columbia.

[POV looks to center console of the vessel, then the gullwing door, and then in front through the viewport where SHEPARD's fleeting form can been seen walking towards the depths of the Skywards]

MPG: I'm so going to [beep]ing die.

[POV hand hits the center console, and the gullwing door opens, and the POV shakes as it exits the Skycruiser and begins to bounce slightly to catch up with SHEPARD]

NARRATOR: AND LIVEC-SEC WILL RETURN AFTER A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS

Headquarters, Future Content Network, New York City, New York, United North America, Earth, Sol System, Helios Cluster, February 8, 2175

Executive Producer Julia Davenport stood in the Future Content Network's Control Room with a dropped jaw as she watched the feed coming from Mike Greene's streaming vidcorder visor that he wore as an eyepiece, the interactive journalist that her network had hired right out of Columbia University in New York City of the United North American States right after he graduated last year in May. Mike was like any other kid with a Communications Degree, especially one coming out of an Ivy League School with a shitload of college debt getting a four-year degree from a prestigious college. He was a hungry kid with about a hundred thousand Earth dollars in college debt looking to make a career score that would boost him right to the top. So when FCN hired him right out of college, it was like a dream come true for someone like him, getting a gig with a big-name network.

What had just been recorded had been pushed forward and aired.

"Watkins! Get me the Chief!" Julia told her assistant, Paul Watkins already beginning to dial the number on the Network's phone registry. Unlike Mike, Julia had looked up Decantus Jane Catherine Shepard's service record with the Citadel Security Services, and she knew of the events that had happened about five weeks prior. Shepard had literally just started that day from her month-long suspension-without-pay thanks to some legal doggerel from the so-called 'high-priced Defense Councilor' that the C-SEC Officer had just ranted about on live broadcast. When Greene had picked Decatus Shepard, it had been because she was the cute redheaded woman (and the only Human woman in C-SEC still in CitBlues). When Julia Davenport had reviewed it, she had known Shepard was going to be a gold metal-finalist in the heavyweight championship of hard-boiled cop movies, and they were doing it on live holovision! Already the social messageboards on Chirper, ARTARVA, Glinkd-In, and SpaceBookr were positively burning up with viewers' messages at the rate of thousands per minute. Ratings for Future Content just jumped five solid points on the galactic scale and twelve for Earth Alliance Space, and brand-new subscriptions were being requested and logged for the less-than-a-day old show LiveC-SEC… from all over the galaxy.

God, they couldn't print the money fast enough if this were going to go down the way Julia thought it was going to go down.

"Ma'am? The Chairman is on the line." Watkins said, holding up the digital receiver, his eyes wide. The Chairman of the Board of Directors for Future Content Network wanted to talk to her. That was a first. Julia took the receiver with a smile.

"Mister Chairman. This is Julia Davenport." She was just an Executive Producer on her first show while the man she was talking to ran all of the shows, movies, series, documentaries, social media sites, print media, and merchandise for Future Content Network. With a word, he could cut a show off completely… or promote the hell out of it into a success.

"Where the hell did you find this cop?" There was a hint of eagerness in the voice of Vincent leFlamme, the Chairman of FCN and the Chief Executive Officer of its Corporate Office. "If half of what she says is true, we practically just re-wrote every crime drama without a script or anything else other than a guerrilla journalist with a visor-cam and a cop with a grudge."

"While I don't know the details of the investigation of Centurion Adepdos and Decantus Shepard, as they were all expunged by the clients' lawyer, I do know the details of the Officer-related shooting that Shepard spoke of, as well as the subsequent investigation that got shut down by the Citadel Judiciary Tribunal and the C-SEC Internal Action Affairs." Julia explained, seeing the first commercial end and going into the second. They had another forty seconds before LiveC-SEC would go back on, and currently, Decantus Shepard was leading Mike Greene right towards, of all things, a high-scale restaurant in the Skywards of Zakera Arm; where the rich lived. "The sapient she's seeking got off on a very technical technicality under the Sapient Rights Clause dating back some eighteen-hundred years prior dealing with business transactions that generally involved two principle business members involved in a merger, details about having business records kept discrete or some other strange nonsense." Julia had no idea how that high-priced Defense Councilor was able to get the entire case thrown out (which was bullshit in her opinion considering that cops had been shot but somehow some clause about business deals had been sold to purge the entire investigation about the shooting and everything involved with it), but that wasn't about to stop an uber-bitch fascist C-SEC Officer on a revenge trip to avenger her dead partner. Julia highly suspected that a great deal of graft and corruption was in the mix at several levels of Citadel Governance, and if FCN played their cards right…

"Promote it. HEAVILY." Chairman leFlamme replied, not a gram of doubt or indecision in his voice. "Fill the downtimes with the rest of the other views whenever necessary, but whatever happens? Catch it and show it."

"All over it." Davenport replied as the line hung up. She put down the receiver and looked to her assistant. "We just got seeded, Paul. From the very top."

"Holy shit." Paul Watkins breathed out, his eyes wide. Christmas had just come today for everyone involved with LiveC-SEC.

"Listen up, everyone!" Julia told the control room, all fifteen of her technicians looking to her. "Whatever happens, it goes out. Live and unedited." No doubt there was going to be fines and some squawking from some interests groups concerning violence on holovision and children. It would be more than made up with the absurd ratings and no-doubt intergalactic incident that was about to be filmed and broadcasted. They were getting subscriptions from viewers in the fucking Hierarchy wanting to see what happened next. New subscriptions, renewals, messages and troupes were already burning through the ExtraNet like it was made out of Heavy Helium. "Bill! Throw out the 'violent content viewer discretion' warning as soon as we get back on." A look at the feed showed that the redheaded C-SEC Corporal was heading into the high-scale restaurant, right towards the front door. No lost subtlety, there. "As soon as the third commercial is off, we broadcast everything that happens. No commercials, no cuts, no editing." They would still have to censor foul language, but anything else could be said as unexpected development and they could cut the feed in the aftermath.

They were going to make so much fucking money off this cop.

"Going back on in five…", her director, Mark Paul, called out. "Four… three… two… one… plug!"

"Due to the violent nature of content," the disclaimer began, "viewer discretion is advised."

And Decantus Shepard just reached the front door to the Heart of Armali restaurant to settle a grudge as the feed began to broadcast in realtime.

"Perfect." Julia Davenport said with a smile.

Orlop/Lower Outer Tract Precinct, Block 3850 (Lower Wards), Zakera Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, February 8, 2175

"No, Shepard. Please do not go into that vracking door."

Prelate Britus Syltius watched in the squad room upon the general area's holovision monitor connected to the wall after someone had thought putting on some Human media corporations' idea of a law enforcement show a good idea in the middle of a C-SEC Precinct, showing LiveC-SEC. There were a few introductions of a few Human C-SEC Officers that had been undoubtedly ordered to do such a thing, traveling with an interactive journalist to highlight the duties and responsibilities of protecting and serving both t he law and the citizenry of the Citadel. Really, it was just some group of sireless vracking barefaced krruv making money off of a cops' efforts, undoubtedly being the first to cast the blame upon a hard-working Officer when a mistake was made. But when the segment showing his own came on air, Decantus Jane Shepard of his Precinct, his hearts fell. Britus had been forced to suspend her a month without pay by some shellsucker back in the Presidium that never walked a corridor in their life. He heard her comment about him, about not making it personal. He had been forced to tell that to her too, but for his own reasons; he had lost two partners himself in the thirty years he wore badge and firearm serving the law. Shepard didn't know that or the details; it wasn't something he spoke of. But he knew what he was talking about.

He didn't blame her at all that she blew him off and was about to walk into the Heart of Armali. He would have in her place. Krruv, he would do it again for Travius and Alexus, having watched them die in the line-of-fire. The comment about Shaltis Adepdos and their children, Maxivus and Lutania, had his Spirit falter. Britus knew that Jane had spent her suspension helping Shaltis in her time of need, a grieving widow now a single dam thanks to that sireless vracking clochea that Shepard was about to meet, likely in a rather violent manner.

The monitor showed that Shepard reached the door of the Heart of Armali, where a Turian in a nice professional robe and a datapadd with a checklist for guests manned it. Syltius scoffed at the sight of the doorbeing stepping in the way of a C-SEC Officer in her armor walking with intent to enter. The Prelate knew that this was about to go down very badly; Shepard wouldn't be the first cop with a grudge to settle concerning a slain partner, but she certainly would be the first one to knowingly be filmed while settling said grudge.

"Varxsius? Call the Spirit of Valluvius Hospital and let them know they're about to have multiple inbound, somewhere in between critically injured and already deceased." Britus told his most senior Centurion, Varxsius Caldonis.

"What are we going to do?" Caldonis asked, his slightly-ovaloid eyes on the monitor, along with most of the Precinct personnel that happened to be in the Station instead out out in the corridors.

"Respond when we get a call." Syltius replied with a quirk of his mandible, looking to his longest-serving Officer of his Precinct. "That honorless cur wrote his own demise when he shot at my Officers. Do you really think I'm about to give him a gleaning of what's about to happen to him? I'm going to watch Shepard enter that cur's office and whatever happens I'm going to watch with a smile." No doubt there were Officers on the take in his Precinct that likely had called the cur in question to warn him. Once the laser-guided torpedo that was Decantus Jane Shepard had finished exploding, he would respond with a full investigative team straight for the data servers, hitting the books for every shipment, network, buyer, seller, and piece of graft he could find. And then he was going to rip its hearts out with his own talons with relish.

He just prayed to the Spirits that he wouldn't have to bury Jane, too. He knew that Maxivus and Lutania Adepdos would need their Human 'Aunt Jannie' with their sire Castis gone. Shaltis likely would also want Jane's help during that first several months when those grief-filled moments were the worst. Turian females were strong, understood the duties that a male must face for the Hierarchy and galaxy, and they fulfilled the role of bondmate and dam with pride. But broken hearts were broken hearts, and they needed time to mend, as well as family.

Spirits, please look out for Jane Shepard, Britus Syltius prayed as he watched Shepard approach the doorbeing.

And if it isn't too much to ask, take the day off for that vracking cur. He deserves whatever Shepard delivers him.

Author's Notes: I've worked on several ideas of a CopShep; Citadel Blues being one where Jane Shepard served four years in the Navy and then goes C-SEC and gets Garrus as a partner. As a joke, Cora Harper would have been Humanity's First SPECTRE if it continued, both Garrus and Shepard joining the Normandy as cops (Garrus as a sniper, and Shepard as a doorkicker). My dad ended up introducing me to LivePD and I thought about the premise of a reality cop show on the Citadel; no introduction, just hit the ground rounding. So I went with it by coming up with the scenario of someone coming in halfway through an extensive case where everything went wrong and created the 'hard-boiled cop drama' that reminisces with Dirty Harry, Lethal Weapon, End of Watch, Training Day, and Miami Vice.

And who's head is Shepard gunning for? I purposely don't even tell you the species, but at the least it isn't an Asari since I used the word 'he', mono-gender thingie be damned.