Chapter 1

The report had to be wrong.

Practical joke? No, anyone with access to STG channels would never use them to joke. Successful hack? No, only species with tech needed to hack secure STG comms were Geth or Reapers. Neither had sense of humor to pull of such a report. Cerberus? No, not proficient enough at communications to hack. Besides, STG had been covertly monitoring their communications since attack on Citadel. Not Cerberus.

Stress? Salarians known to experience hallucination during peak of stress. Psychotic break possible explanation. No. Was trained to deal with stress. Would recognise symptoms. Had spoken with colleagues, reported seeing same report. Not hallucination. Or maybe mass hallucination. Possible. No too unlikely.

Maybe some other STG operative had cracked and sent the report. Had happened before. Stress of combat, abuse of drugs, perhaps even red sand, could cause psychotic breaks. Unlikely. Report too detailed, too clear. Likely written with clear head.

Indoctrination? Perhaps. Yes some STG agent had been captured and turned, now using their experience to send false reports in attempt to aid the reapers. Possible explanation but inconsistent with facts. Indoctrinated subjects worship reapers, see as gods. Reports indicated that the reapers were being stopped and had halted their invasion almost completely. Report indicated some ships, new, unidentified, had appeared from nowhere and stopped reaper progress immediately. Fabricating such a report not consistent with pattern of indoctrinated behavior.

Other STG operatives considering similar explanations. Communication channels crowded with speculation, demands for answers. Some cloaca named Kirrahe demanding they 'hold the line'. Bravado. Useless.

Perhaps report was correct? No. Most implausible answer. Reapers galactic menace, near impossible to stop. Firepower and tech beyond understanding of galactic community. Unlikely they could be stopped at all, let alone easily. Report said they had just halted their assault, unable to move. Coincided with appearance of massive ships. Bigger than thought possible. Strange appearance, unknown tech. Impossible fantasy.

Jondum Bau blinked slowly, as slowly as a salarian could anyway. It didn't make sense. He had yet to find some reason why the report was wrong. If the contents had been less... extraordinary he would have assumed it was correct. Perhaps he really was going mad. Spent too much time around reaper tech, had lost sanity. Could submit self for psychological evaluation. Would an insane person do that? Maybe he just needed -

His omnitool vibrated in three urgent bursts, cutting off any further thoughts. That was it's designated code for an emergency spectre transmission. Hopefully it was something less absurd. He opened his synaptic interface, glowing orange runes bursting into life from his wrist as the report, coded of course, began to play out before him.

It came from Thessia, hopefully good news. He knew that Shephard was supposed to be on some kind of secret mission there, maybe she had succeeded. Of course the more likely reality was that she had failed and this was just one more nail in the coffin of the collective galactic races. No he couldn't think like that, couldn't give in. He hoped for the best as he read the rest of the message,

Impossible.

The transmission, sent on the highest priority council communication channel, was nearly identical to the report he had received from his STG contacts. It lacked the concision of a well written STG report which he had come to appreciate since joining the spectres, but that was to be expected when you worked with a species like the asari. If it was to be believed, and he wasn't sure he could disregard both an STG and spectre report, then the reapers truly had stopped their assault of Thessia. There really was some massive and unknown capital ship in orbit around Thessia which had disabled a fleet of reaper ships with almost trivial ease. Even the reaper forces on the ground had stopped advancing, they had begun to mill around lethargically, taking no more notice of the asari they had but a moment before been locked in vicious combat with.

That was it. He closed the report and began searching for the contact information for the STG psychological analysis division. He needed to turn himself in, this couldn't be real.

His omnitool began to buzz insistently, in a repeating pattern of four staccato bursts. A direct transmission from Councilor Valern. If Jondum Bau hadn't been extensively trained in mental control he might of felt a headache begin to form. As it were he simply felt an irritating itch between his eyes which he stubbornly refused to acknowledge. The moment he moved two fingers to his omnitool to acknowledge the call the harsh voice of the Salarian council hissed at him.

"Report immediately to the council chambers. All other operations are to be put on hold. Order confirmation 5564-2112. Understood spectre Bau?"

"On my way-"

Whatever else he was about to say was cut-off as councilor Valern ended the call. That was strange. Salarians were a quick abrupt species, particularly by the standards of the other council species, but they could normally manage at-least some modicum of decorum. What was even stranger was that the message had been recorded by Valern himself. Normally such an order would be transmitted by code, no need to bog things down with verbal communications when a simple code or written order would suffice. The code Valern had said at the end would have been enough. To get orders directly like that must meant something had truly startled the councilor.

Well he wanted answers and even a drunk krogran would be able to piece together that the dual STG and spectre reports were likely the cause for these emergency summons. Perhaps he hadn't lost his mind. After all if a seemingly unstoppable sentient machine race could go from a far-flung academic fantasy to the greatest threat facing the galaxy in a few short years perhaps they could be stopped just as easily.

Whatever the case he thankfully wasn't far from the council chambers. He had been paying a visit to C-sec headquarters which was mercifully close to the council. There was the slightly awkward fact that he really hadn't be planning on leaving so soon. He had planned to camp out in the ducts surrounding C-sec for a while tending his surveillance gear. Not that he expected to find anything particularly interesting. This assignment had been given to him more out of a misguided sense of paranoia following Cerberus's attack on the citadel than any true expectation of finding traitors in the rank of C-sec.

Still it had been a pain dragging his surveillance equipment through the ducts, particularly when he had to shoo off some particularly persistent keepers. No encounters with the infamous duct-rats though. That was good. STG's policy on witnesses was quite clear, particularly when it came to people who could be plausibly dissapeared without causing much fuss. He wasn't squeamish about killing children, you didn't get far in STG trying to uphold an iron moral code, but it always left a bad taste in his mouth.

Which left him where he was now. Wedged in a duct intersection with a few hundred-thousand credits worth of surveillance equipment. The plan had been to wait for C-sec's automated system maintenance to avoid tripping any alarm or surveillance systems. Not that if he was caught there'd be any significant consequences, he was a spectre. But it would be rather embarrassing for both his professional reputation and for the council to admit they had been spying on their own security force.

He could still wait for the security blackout, but it wouldn't come for another 30 minutes or so. There wouldn't be another way to take the surveillance equipment with him without being detected. He could escape undetected just fine, he was a spectre with a lifetime of espionage experience, but burdened by a clunky collection of wires, antennae, and black boxes he didn't like his odds.

He could leave it behind, but the equipment was expensive and he didn't like the way the keepers he passed had eyed it. If he left it behind now to meet the councilor he was certain it wouldn't be there should he return.

Oh well, it wasn't like the equipment was coming from his pay-check. Unlike the Systems

Alliance the Salarian's didn't force their operatives to buy their own equipment. He still had a good laugh when he remembered Shepard telling him she had to buy her own gear. Honestly how they had lucked into a commander like Shepard was beyond him, she would have made a great Salarian.

Internally sighing he gave the equipment one last look before moving to leave, crawling on all fours to escape the ducts. Hell, maybe the reports wouldn't be completely wrong. Maybe the entire galaxy had just been saved by some omnipotent and hitherto unknown force, powerful beyond even the reapers.

AN:

Feedback is always appreciated. Still thinking of what direction the story will take, let me know if you have thoughts.