Chapter 2
Shepard waits in an anteroom directly outside the main Council chamber. The council is in session greeting some Diplomatic envoys but he wasn't aware which race the diplomats were from. It was obviously a meeting of ceremony, the chamber was packed and there was a large press element and security presence around the entrance. He decides it was best to wait until this meeting was over and the chambers cleared before presenting his report.
He scans the crowded entrance halls and notices that there are virtually no human faces in the crowd. All he could see are some of the more hardened or desperate of the freelance journalistic community. He recognises a face in the press pack as that of the journalist Emily Wong. Shepard had helped her out in the past and he admired her professionalism and integrity. He was curious as to recent events on the Citadel and attempts to attract her attention.
Emily Wong's sharp senses soon catch his signal and she walks over to the anteroom casually. Shepard's presence was a scoop that she would gladly deny her colleagues access to. She enters the room and manipulates a control to make the windows more opaque to onlookers outside.
"Hi there Shepard. Long time no see. What's wrong you don't come around and see me anymore?" Emily asks flirtatiously.
"Been out doing the usual Emily. Sorry until I give the Council my report it's classified."
"Such a pity, never mind just make sure to call me first after your meeting, OK?"
"Well that depends Emily, I've been out the loop for a while and need to hear the news from the source. You're the best there is on this station in my opinion."
"Ah thanks Shepard, you really know the way to a girl's heart. I'll try my best to answer your questions. Fire away."
"What's happening inside the chamber? There's obviously something major going on at the moment. Strange to see so many people fired up for a standard diplomatic function."
"It's not a normal function at all. There have been rumours of changes in Bataria and they are wishing to rejoin the council. They have sent envoys and gifts of some ancient artefacts found in their system. The Batarians claim to have found technology that would be beneficial to all races and are offering it to the council and opening up their borders."
Shepard tenses the muscles in his jaw but otherwise remains emotionless. "Anything about me or the humans in these rumours?"
"There is a whisper about an exploding relay floating around that no-one takes too seriously. Everyone knows relays are indestructible"
The reporter notices Shepard's expression turn bleaker than before, his eyes look haunted by something she had said. Her journalistic instincts were screaming at her to wake up but the sudden appearance of a squad of heavily armed Turian C-Sec officers prevents her from saying any more. She watches curiously as the Turian security officers approach Shepard and form a circle around him, the senior officer standing directly in front of him.
"Commander Shepard, I have orders to bring you into custody. You are required for to appear before the council immediately for questioning. You are a suspected terrorist and are known to possess biotic capabilities and I have been instructed that you are to be shackled and gagged."
Shepard reacts furiously "What are you talking about? I am a council appointed SPECTRE and exempt from C-Sec intervention"
The officer offers no expression to Shepard's outburst. Without warning two of his colleagues suddenly club Shepard from behind with their rifle butts causing him to fall to his knees. The officer reaches down and sprays something into Shepard's face that renders the commander unconscious. The Turian's started to bind the Commander's arms behind him. One of the Turians wrenches Shepard's right arm so violently it dislocates the shoulder and tears the muscles on the upper arm. Others are gripping the commander so tightly their talons were ripping his uniform and tearing the skin beneath. Soon Shepard was bleeding profusely from many wounds.
The Turians drag the limp, wounded body unceremoniously across the entrance plaza. The crowd outside start baying and screeching vile obscenities aimed at Shepard. Some even venture forward through the C-Sec cordon and aim blows at the limp body. The senior C-Sec officer only laughs but directs his men to reform the cordon. He shouts to the crowd in a powerful voice "Save your energy. He can't feel anything in any case at the moment. We'll leave him for the Batarians tender mercies" The crowd cheer the Officer's words. The Batarians are a notoriously cruel and violent race that no doubt had a fate bloody enough to satisfy even their lust for revenge and blood.
Emily Wong watches these events with a look of horror on her face. At first she is too shocked to think but is shaken back to life by the venomous voice of one of the Turian C-Sec officers. "Don't even think of following into the chamber, it is closed to human scum like you. Try to enter and there won't be enough of you left for the Vorcha to pick on." The officer emphasises his words by slapping the reporter so hard she falls back, stunned into insensibility.
Emily picks herself up and gingerly touches her swollen face. She feels a click in her jaw but reassures herself that it isn't broken. The blow had been backhanded and she had been spared the Turians claws at least. Slowly she gathers her wits and staggers from the room into the entrance plaza. She looks towards the entrance in frustration. This was now The Story in her opinion. There had been increased violence towards humans but nothing as open as this. Shepard was an Icon of humanity and supposedly of the council. What had changed? Emily owed it to herself to find out. She looks around in frustration and sees the nervous figure of a Salarian having an intense conversation over its communicator. She approaches the alien and hears the angry and abrupt termination of the call.
"What's happening Zeben? You look pissed at something"
The Salarian replies with nervous frustration "It just happens to be the case I have a press ticket to the hottest gig in town and nobody will pay for the story. The fashion event of the year is happening right now and my fans demand to hear my opinion. I am lost Ms Wong, Lost"
Like most Salarians Zeben is an obsessive, in Zeben's case it is fashion and the decadence of the council elite that drive his passion. He was once a gifted scientist, but had turned his talents to the recreational narcotics trade. He made the mistake of sampling his own product and ended up a drug casualty. His addictions eventually caught up with him and destroyed his career and his sanity in Emily's opinion. After a breakdown he had re-emerged as a fashionista of sorts. For a fashionista he was a pathetic sight his clothes were fashionable but of low quality and were dirty and grimy. His nervous twitchy movements were clear signs that he had been on some narcotic adventure that had now stalled mid-chapter when the credits stopped.
Emily recognises that Zeben is close to withdrawal and has an idea. "Zeben, I've got some story credits coming my way. Maybe there's a way we can help each other out? What you say we do a joint piece? I give you my reporter drone and you go in to the hall that way we both get our stories. I'll give you the creds for the piece when you get back"
"Your idea won't work Ms Wong. I am not accredited to owning a reporter drone, this one would be on your credentials and like yourself forbidden from chambers"
Normally Zeben would be correct in his assumption but her drone would have no problems bypassing C-Sec systems. She had adapted it with cloaking technology and hi-gain capturing for undercover work and had used it secretly many times. All she needed to do was to convince Zeben to enter the chamber, the drone would do the rest.
"Relax Zeben, I'll transfer the licence for the drone to you. I've got a spare in any case. You do me the favour and the drone's yours." She motions that she is manipulating her omni tool.
Zeben looks at her with a cunning look of hunger "I'll still need payment though. I have expenses you know."
Emily senses the scam Zeben was attempting. A standard reporter drone was an expensive commodity. Hers was rigged for her use alone and would return to when she signalled it. She'll go through the motions for Zeben's ego at least and would have her laughter at his expense later. Emily reaches inside a pocket and emerges with a small vial. She flicks the vial discretely in her palm, but conceals it only after she is sure Zeben had saw it. The look of desperate hunger in his eyes told her she now had his full attention. She didn't use drugs herself but had discovered their effectiveness as a negotiating tool, especially with lowlifes like Zeben and usually came prepared with a gift or two to ease negotiations like this.
"Ok Zeben Its 100 credits as a down payment. You get the rest after the meeting. Also I've transferred the drone to your ownership. The deal is for you go in the chamber and get your story and the drone will get mine. You will remain until the end of the meeting then return to me. I'll upload the info I need from the drone and pay you the final sum. Do we have a deal?" and she extends her palm holding the vial towards the Salarian.
Zeben's eyes remain fixed on the contents of Emily's hand. The glazed look in his eyes indicates that he wasn't entirely listening to her proposal. He blinks and tries to engage a sincere expression on his face extends his hand and palms the vial with a gleeful glint. He hurries towards the council entrance accompanied by the hovering reporter drone. Emily watches his entry with a blank expression and turns away then retires to a vacant bench in an empty part of the plaza and opens up her omni tool to display the drone's footage activating the inner earpiece for audio.
As she had expected Zeben's first port of call was a restroom to sample the gift he had been given. She allowed the drone to follow Zeben. "No need to alert him to her control of the drone just yet" she thought. She watches the Salarian empty a rather large dose from the vial into its mouth. Emily had selected a drug that looked like red sand, but included a powerful sedative as well and its effect was immediate. The Salarian slumps to the ground in a bliss full narcotic slumber. He would probably awaken with no memory of the day's events; it would just be another episode that was so familiar in the tragic Salarian's life.
Emily takes control of the drone and guides it to the council chamber. She stations it above Zeben's empty seat and activates its recording systems. The view was terrible and the audio cluttered by audience noise. With a mild annoyance she engages the stealth systems and guides the drone to a better vantage point directly above the dais. She relaxes back and massages her swollen jaw, while she watches the meeting. She giggles to herself that she probably had the best seats in the house and it had cost her virtually nothing and was a little fuck you gesture to the arrogant Turians who had beaten Shepard and her earlier.
Emily watches an elaborately garbed Batarian do a presentation to the council members. In the midst of the council chamber was an object that looked like a miniature model of a closed Citadel. Emily estimated that it was 3 or 4 metres tall and pulsated with a soft glow of multicoloured light. The object was changing slowly splitting its shell into arms exactly like the arms of the Citadel itself, when its arms were fully extended it sat a perfect representation of the Citadel in miniature, its pulsing lights more intense in the open form. Emily tears the drones gaze away from the citadel model and scans the audience. The model held every eye in its grasp, many faces staring at the glowing object with undisguised adoration.
The harsh voice of the Batarian diplomat was reciting a speech whilst the model was revealing itself. Emily caught references to its discovery and the abilities of the device. How it and others like it had helped quell revolt and brought peace and harmony to the Batarian systems. It sounded like pure bullshit to Emily. She guides the drone's focus towards the Batarians face. What she sees there repels her causing her to jerk back in fear, the murderous expression in his eyes contradicting the Batarian's honeyed words. His gaze displayed the truth of his deadly contempt towards the council and the rest of the chamber.
Emily's reaction had caused the drone to lose focus of the Batarian and it was now focused on the unconscious form of commander Shepard lying on the dais in front of the council. She listens in horror as the Batarian accuses Shepard of genocide, describing the events in the Aratoht system. The rumours were true; somehow a relay exploded wiping out a Batarian colony completely. The death toll was horrendous and Shepard was the one responsible in the Batarians eyes.
She pulled the drone's focus back and sees all the council members nodding in mute agreement to every accusation and demand the Batarian made. She returns the focus towards the Batarian and sees the cold calculated gaze of control. He was the puppet master and this was his show. Within moments sentence is passed on Shepard. He is found guilty of his crimes and declared insane. He is stripped of his SPECTRE status by council decree and handed over to the Batarians with immediate effect. The council then issues a proclamation of unconditional support for the Batarians and declared Humanity as Enemies of the Council races and exiled all humans back to their home systems.
The resounding cheers for this proclamation bring Emily back from her stunned state. The council was on the verge of declaring war against her species and had almost overwhelming political support. The Batarians had played some mind trick on the council and she had witnessed it. She needed to get the drone back as soon as possible and pass the recording onto the Alliance somehow. She signals the drone to do a final sweep of the chamber, as the image pans she notices someone familiar. It was Zeben, but that should be impossible. The drug should have put him down for hours at least. He was standing looking at the model citadel, not in adoration, but in overwhelming terror. Emily watches him turn and dash wide eyed from the chamber, never once looking back.
Emily orders the drone to follow the terrified Salarian, while she follows at a distance. He eventually stops at a tiny apartment and is in a frenzy to collect the few personal belongings not sacrificed to his addiction. She enters the apartment and causes the Salarian to collapse in fright. He lies terrified and in a dangerously shocked state. Emily tries to soothe him until eventually he calms down, the sedative effect of the drug beginning to take the edge off the overwhelming fear. Zeben takes several deep, seemingly painful breaths and relaxes.
"I'm sorry Zeben it's all my fault. I should never have spiked you in that way"
The Salarian continues to breathe deeply for several moments, "The fact that you did is probably why I am still sane. Tell me you saw it too."
"Yes I saw the trial, if you can call that travesty a trial at least."
"No not the Trial, that thing that looks like the citadel. It's monstrous and it will kill us all"
"You're hallucinating Zeben. All I saw is that model open up with a bit of a lightshow and Shepard get fucked over by the council. How did that Batarian get so much pull is what I want to know?"
"You weren't there so you won't understand. It wasn't the Batarian in control it was that thing. I could feel it rip through me like knives, hear its screeching as a tearing in my brain stealing all thought. I could sense its bitterly foul taste on my tongue and its repulsive stench filled my nose and burned my eyes. I'm not hallucinating Ms Wong, that thing wants to kill each and every one of us, but it wants us first to accept it. It's alive, a machine, but a living one. It knows I saw through its illusion, I have no doubt mine will the first death at its hands."
Emily looks deep into the sobbing Salarians eyes, "Hold it together Zeben. We need to get out of here, leave your things and follow me."
"Yeah Ok, I just need something to calm my nerves" and he reaches for the phial that Emily had sealed their deal with.
"No time for that. Zeben. We get off this station safely and I will gladly allow you to melt your brain in any way you wish. Until then I need you as focussed as possible, understood?" and she knocks the phial out of his grasp and crushes the drug under her heel
Zeben glares at her but Emily grins, "Good get angry, that way we might both live. For the last time get your shit together and move."
Emily knew the Citadel better than most and was able to navigate its lesser-travelled areas without incident until they reached the docking bay that held Shepard's ship the Normandy. The pair stands outside the main docking area looking at the docked Cerberus frigate. A squad of guards controlled all access to the approach and Emily recognises the armour and markings of the Turian officer who had struck her. There was no way to avoid a confrontation, at the moment their only escape plan was foiled.
Emily reaches for her communicator, inputs a code and a short message into her omni tool. "Well Zeben, we'll just have to wait for a couple of moments. Shouldn't take long" and she buffs her nails on her blouse, frowning as she catches and scores the delicate fabric. Zeben looks at her with a questioning expression but before he can say anything the sound of an airlock door seal opening attracts his attention.
Four beings disembark the ship. A Turian male, a small human female, the largest Krogan Zeben had ever seen and a sick looking Drell. The Turian and Krogan are having an animated discussion whilst they walk casually towards the squad of guards. The human just has a look of profound boredom on her face whilst she tends to the Drell. The guards assemble around the four crew members with another smaller squad gather at a slight distance, weapons readied to provide covering fire. The C-Sec officer signals them to halt and explain their leaving the ship. The guards look uncomfortable but the crew seem friendly. Zeben hears the Turian say something about medical treatment for the Drell.
Suddenly the Drell collapses in a coughing fit, he falls forward and reaches up to two guards seemingly for support. In an instant both are writhing in agony as the Drell explodes into motion, unleashing ferociously powerful strikes at the most vulnerable or crippling areas of their anatomy. He follows through his attack targeting another group of guards in a graceful ballet of pain. In an instant six heavy armoured Turians lay writhing or incapacitated at his hands.
Beside him is a far less graceful expression of violence. Zeben watches the Krogan lift a guard in each huge hand and throw them into another pair of guards causing all four to collapse in a heap. He then charges yet another pair catching one with his fist and butting the other. He turns around and steps directly into a Two-fisted pile driver attack from the C-Sec officer. The Krogan shrugs off the blow with a shake of his head and grins terribly at his stunned Turian attacker. "My turn" he growls and he unleashes a double fisted pincer blow of his own, crushing the Turian's skull between his huge fists.
Zeben watches the Turian crewmember of the Normandy thinking he should be a more equal match for the guards but his attacks are just as effective. He lacks the grace of the Drell and the power of the Krogan but he was a skilled unarmed combatant. He knows the precise areas that cause one of his race the most pain and ruthlessly exploits this knowledge. With powerful strikes of hands and fists he beat his opponents to the ground, soon the remaining four guards were incapacitated
The group of Turians covering the others were shocked at the explosive violence that had overwhelmed their colleagues. They were in the process of raising their weapons when the small human woman releases a powerful biotic shockwave that tears through the group knocking them from their feet. This is followed swiftly by another biotic attack that explodes in the midst of the sprawling guards. Most lay stunned but a valiant two lay dazed and confused, but conscious. The human frowns at them before throwing a final biotic assault at the pair and the final two C-Sec officers are taken out.
Zeben stares open mouthed at the destruction of the guard force. Never before had he seen such effective execution of violence. He looks at the broken and bruised guards with amazed horror until he catches sight of the unfortunate who had dared anger a Krogan. Zeben's stomach turns at the sight of the pulpy mass of the Turian officer's crushed skull oozing blood and other matter onto the floor of the hanger deck and he is seized with the need to vomit. He collapses to his knees retching, his stomach emptying its contents in painful spasms.
Emily looks around her with a vacant expression on her face. She looks down at the dead Turian with a strange look in her eye. Although the face is broken and pulped she still recognises her tormentor from before. Her fingers stroke her swollen jaw unconsciously as she whispers "Looks like you'll be dining with the Vorcha before I will, my friend"
Tears flow from her as the stress of the day takes hold. She starts shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. The Turian Crew member steps forward and enfolds her in his embrace "Just a few steps more Emily. We'll take it one step at a time, just a few steps more." he says tenderly as he guides the shaken reporter towards the Normandy airlock.
Zeben recovers from his vomiting fit only to confront the huge Krogan warrior. The Krogan was sniffing him with a look of disgust on his face "You stink of weakness but I can also smell that filth you ingest. Listen to me you pathetic little pyjack, I have a zero tolerance for narcotics. This is a tight crew and I will not see them at risk by your weakness. I find out that you are carrying or using on that ship, you will wish that you had never been hatched. You get me?"
Zeben stammers a reply but it is of no moment as the Krogan had already turned away. He follows along unsure if the decision to place one foot in front of another is altogether a wise one. He knows he would be swallowed by the madness engulfing the Citadel if he stays and that he has no choice but to throw his fate into the hands of these violent criminals. He grimaces as he thinks that this morning he was a decadent ruin clutching onto the cult of celebrity in the vain hope that its glamour would shine on his failure of a life. Now he is about to step aboard the most notorious spacecraft in the galaxy.
He laughs bleakly at the thought that he is in the midst of some drug addled nightmare, a hallucination caused by that minx Wong's spiked cocktail. "Don't fool yourself Zeben" he thinks darkly. He knew his feeble imagination could never conjure the images he had witnessed in the last few hours. The violence of the crew's assault on the guards was one thing, but far deeper images were burnt into him. The horror of the Device and the meek surrender of the Council provoked intense emotions in the Salarian that almost cause him to vomit again.
He steels himself and notices the sleek lines of the Normandy for the first time. His eyes were those of a fashionista and were sensitive to beauty, form and the power of glamour. The allure of the powerful was what drove his obsession and he could feel it now pulsing through him as he stared at the ship. The Normandy possessed a glamour as real as that of the model citadel only in reverse and this power almost moved the sensitive Salarian to tears. To him, She offered the perfect counter to the horror of the Device. Zeben knew then that he would die for this ship willingly. He made a silent vow that he would serve her and her crew loyally in any capacity he could and with that decision he placed one foot in front of another, in the most profound step of his life.
Zeben steps through the airlock straight into the back of the huge Krogan known as Grunt. He and the Turian were arguing about the fight with the guards as to who was the most effective. The Drell watches their debate with an enigmatic smile, but is silent. The small human figure though looks more animated.
"Will you two shut the fuck up? I took out the most of those chumps. I counted double figures boys and none of you got above seven. Simple answer is that I've got the biggest swinging quad in this ship until our next skirmish and I didn't need to bruise these pretty little hands either. Face it Losers, one of you will be taking care of my tab for a while"
A male human voice rings out from the cockpit "You know you don't technically have a quad Jack, let alone one that swings"
"Screw you Joker, whatever I'm packing doesn't need all those hormonal tablets you buy over the extranet to get anyone off. Just get your shit together and get us out of here flyboy. Someone is bound to notice all those broken bones and bust heads sooner or later. Shepard's been taken, but we're sitting ducks here and can't help him. Let's get out this system and find out what the fuck is going on?"
The pilot, Joker, stares at her glaring face and bites back any quip he was about to make. His hands dance on the console engaging the ships flight systems "EDI, any luck with those lockdown codes? It'll be a very short trip without them."
A synthetic voice answers "Yes Jeff, Over-riding lockdown, I have full control of all ships systems. Docking clamps released, boosters engaged, main engines on line."
Joker "OK people we're on our way. EDI engage Stealth systems and engage main drive on my mark" He steers the ship with the boosters until she was aligned with an exit lane. "Firing main engines. Hold on tight people, we are about to break every rule in the Alliance flight manual regarding close Citadel manoeuvres."
The area around the huge space station was the busiest in Galactic space. Countless numbers of craft of all sizes juggle for position in the crowded shipping lanes. The Normandy streaks through the crowded ships dodging and weaving the mercifully slow moving traffic, Joker having to concentrate intensely to avoid a collision, in moments they were clear of the majority of the ships and into more open space, but their trajectory brought them directly in the range of the Citadel Defence Fleet flagship The Destiny Ascension. The massive dreadnought hails the Normandy ordering her to return to dock or face destruction, to emphasize the warning a round from the huge main gun crosses the Normandy's bow.
Joker says sardonically, "Looks like they don't want to play nice, taking evasive manoeuvres" and he banks the Normandy over to the left in a steep sweeping dive back into the main shipping lanes. The huge dreadnought can't manoeuvre like the smaller ship and within moments the Normandy was beyond range, streaking towards the relay and escaping into the void.