After weeks of screenings, tests and background checks, there Vega was standing within the Council chambers in front of all of the Citadel representatives, to be inducted into the Spectres. Unlike Shepard's induction, Vega's was more private; there was no public crowd and no media coverage. Garrus wanted to keep everything downplayed, after all. This did not raise any suspicion from the other Councillors, however, as it was how Spectre proceedings were usually handled; Shepard was just a special case.

"You are now formally granted the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel," Councillor Salini said, the asari still at the forefront of galactic politics, "Spectres are chosen, not trained, the embodiment of an ideal. They are both the right and left hands of the Council in our efforts to maintain galactic security."

James stood at attention, spine straight and eyes forward, and gave a formal salute for several seconds before lowering his arm.

"This meeting is adjourned," Salini finished, before she and the other Councillors dispersed into several different hallways connected to the main chamber.

"Congratulations," Garrus said, shaking the fresh new Spectre's hand, "You're in the big leagues now, Vega."

The two of them were in Garrus' office now, sitting across each other in identical leather couches, each with enough space to fit three people, or two Krogans.

Vega, who was sitting with his back comfortably low on the couch, gave a nod and a light grin, "And I'm keen on getting to work."

Glad that the soldier had such a strong sense of duty and loyalty, Garrus leaned forward a little, placing his elbows on his thighs with his hands linked together, "I need you to investigate the terror attacks in Batarian space, mainly in Khar'shan."

Khar'shan, the Batarian home world and capital, had managed to rebuild a significant amount of what was lost with the aid of the other races after the war. There were less outright lies presented by the Batarian government these days; they relied on transparency now to gain support from other governments. It sounded good on paper, but Garrus new better than that. People adapt in hardship, but once things start to get a little comfortable again, it was a different story entirely.

"Most of it will just be scouting and recon," Garrus continued, "You'll have to be discreet. The other Councillors aren't aware of this operation."

Vega considered what his old friend had just told him; they had endured hell together, but Garrus was a politician now, and you could never be too careful around them. "Damn, Scars," James said, crossing his arms, "No direct combat? You know it isn't exactly my strong point, right?"

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint," Garrus replied, his sub-harmonics giving off the equivalent of a smirk, "But, you are the person I trust the most in the Alliance with a covert operation like this, believe it or not."

Kaidan Alenko, the second Human Spectre, was a little too by the books and loyal to the brass and the higher ups that Garrus could never completely trust him to be discreet. Hell, Garrus considered Alenko to be a part of the brass nowadays.

"Alright, alright," Vega resigned with a raised hand, "I'll keep skycar rams to a minimum, I swear."

"Good. You'll be deploying as soon as you can," Garrus said, standing up to signify that their business was over, "Obviously I won't be micromanaging, but I'll need a full mission report once you're finished. Good luck."

"Aye, aye," Vega replied with an enthusiasm and determination that gave comfort to Garrus; he knew he had chosen the right person for the job.

A relaxed mock salute and Vega was striding out of the office, off to get his hands dirty in the mud. Garrus silently wished that it could be him going out into the field. He glanced at the neatly piled stack of datapads placed upon his desk. Garrus had always been neat, ever since he could remember; his father had made sure of it with his traditional upbringing, and it stuck throughout his military career. It was a good way of maintaining a sense of normalcy, a stark contrast to the constant chaos of service on the field. But now, there was no field work. He knew there was plenty of chaos out there, but in here, it almost felt sterile.

Ever so slightly, Garrus pushed the pile of datapads over, causing the neat little stack to topple over his desk.