Captain Jane Shepard, Alliance Command, Vancouver, Earth
"..And in short, Captain, it has been understood by the Citadel Council, and collaborated by own Alliance science staff, that your brother, Commander John Shepard, Deceased, was under the influence of a damaged Prothean Beacon," Colonel Andrew Xi said mechanically, reading from a dataslate. The man was small and weasley looking, the epitome of greasy brown nosing sycophants. "Do you understand, Captain?"
Standing before the Alliance Command staff, Jane stood with her feet shoulder width apart, and her hands clasped behind her back. Her back and neck were ramrod straight as she stared straight ahead, staring at nothing.
"Understood, Colonel. Saren convinced the geth that Sovereign was a machine god that had wiped out the Protheans. The geth then built Sovereign for Saren to use to attack the Citadel in a bid to stage a coup," Jane responded, her voice was emotionless as she repeated back the party line.
Inwardly, Jane seethed. In fact it was nearly all she could do to keep herself from screaming at the close minded fools. She wanted slap intelligence into each member of the Alliance Command. Then move on the Citadel Councilors.
But she couldn't. Both she, and her mother, needed to toe the party line. They needed to denounce John and make a show of it. Otherwise there would be nobody who knew the truth in any position to do anything about it. They had already 'medically' discharged Joker, John's pilot, because he wouldn't support their crap. In fact, they had already pulled two of her engineers, Kenneth Donnelly, and Gabriela Daniels, due to their rather...vocal, support of John.
"Yes," Colonel Xi confirmed. "That would be correct. Commander John Shepard, successful in his mission to uncover Saren's plots and foil his plans, however, the Prothean beacon, being damaged, slowly affected his mind and giving him a mild paranoia."
"Resulting in his belief that the geth created dreadnought, Sovereign, was actually a Reaper, a race of sentient machines the wiped out intelligent life every fifty thousand years. Which was a combination of Seren's propaganda and the information from the damaged Prothean beacon," Jane confirmed with a nod, even as her hand, behind her back, clenched into a fist so tightly her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood.
"Very good, Captain. You will certainly go far in the Alliance, with that attitude," Rear Admiral Mikhailovich smirked. "You are dismissed."
Jane hesitated a moment before saluting. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Jane said before turning on her heel and striding out of the room.
Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec Command, Citadel.
"Damn it Vakarian!" Executor Venari Pallin yelled, slamming his fist on his desk, hard enough to rattle the various pens and dataslates scattered over his desk. "There are procedures, rules and laws! Beating a confession out a suspect is not admissible!"
Garrus frowned hard at Pallin, his mandibles pulling tight to his face, angrily. "How else was I supposed to get the location of the red sand drop? Take him out to dinner? Maybe say 'please' between the entree and dessert?"
Pallin stood quietly for a moment, his own mandibles flexing in and out with his harsh breathing. "Beating it out of the man also made the whole operation inadmissible!" Pallin placed a hand over his eyes and dropped back into his chair. "Honestly, Vakarian, I would love to kick the crap out every piece of scum, load of shit, and chunk of sterkre that comes on this station. But the law is bigger than you or I. Otherwise, it's just anarchy."
With a scoff, Garrus crossed his arms. "Yeah, but people with money can just buy their way out of trouble. Or the lawyers just lie or slime their way around rules or through loopholes. Even when we know they are guilty. What does that say about the rule of law?"
Drumming his talons, Pallin shook his head. "It's not perfect Garrus. Nothing is. There are shades of grey everywhere. Sometimes we let drug smugglers like Fidorus go free, and in exchange he gives us dirt on his bosses. It's criminal triage."
"Or," Garrus snarled, as he leaned over Pallin's desk. "We could make Fidorus talk. Then we get them both."
Pallin stared at Garrus for a moment before leaning back closing his eyes. "Vakarian, I can see that this conversation is going nowhere. Commander Shepard's recommendation for you to enter Spectre training has been denied, due to his...mental capacity being under question."
"WHAT?!" Garrus nearly screamed. "They're questioning Shepard, even after everything he has done? After we saved the Council's ass, personally?!"
Raising a hand, Pallin flinched back slightly. "Yes, well, the idea of sentient machines that routinely wipe out sentient life, does seem a bit of a stretch."
Pausing, Garrus looked back down t Pallin, with eyes as hard as ice. "Yes. Maybe," Garrus admitted. "Except how one of them, literally, sat it's ass on the Council's tower!"
Pallin stared hard at Garrus, who, unperturbed, glared right back. Pallin turned away first. "Alright. I can see how this is going to go down," Pallin said, tiredly. "If I let you continue as you are, you are going to end up going too far. And I cannot have that happen on my station."
"So…" Garrus snorted. "You are letting me go."
"Yes," Pallin nodded. "You are being released from C-Sec service. Your clearance to the armory and access to C-Sec shuttles will be revoked in…" Pallin leaned over and looked at a display on his desk. "They will be revoked in six hours."
Garrus felt his mandibles drop open in surprise as he just stared at his former superior. "I..what?" he asked, eloquently.
"Yes, well," Pallin continued. "I expect you to return any gear or shuttles that may be in your possession by 0900 tomorrow morning. If they are not, we will have to come get them ourselves, and I would rather avoid that."
Finally getting his brain working again, Garrus nodded. "Yes, I can see how that would be...inconvenient. I will have to get moving, it I want to get everything where it needs to be."
"Ah yes!" Pallin nodded as he transferred a data file from the archives to Garrus's omnitool. "Fidorus should be in his apartment in the Wards about now. Maybe you should say goodbye, I know you were close," Pallin smirked now. "Also, I heard his family might have a job for you on Omega station."
With another nod, Garrus looked over the file Pallin had given him before turning and walking out the door. "Nice working with you!" Garrus called over his shoulder, giving the Executor a final wave.
Doctor Liara T'Soni, Omega
"Tell me what I need to know, Elcor, or I swear to the Goddess…" Liara snarled, as a blue shimmer ran down her arm, shattering the glass she held in her hand. The, supposedly, unbreakable glass. But then, in her time with Shepard, they routinely did impossible things.
"In nearly pants wetting terror: Please do not hurt me, I will talk," The elcor, Braum, a small time information broker whimpered.
Seeing the elcor shiver slightly, a thing Liara didn't actually know was possible, shocked her back to her senses.
Sighing deeply, Liara placed her hand over her eyes and rubbed at her temples slightly. "Alright, let's just start from the beginning, shall we?"
"Eagerly: Yes, let us do that," Braum said quickly. Well, quickly for an elcor. "Informative: I had heard rumors that the Shadow Broker has an agent looking for the…. Hesitant: Body…."
Liara's eyes snapped open as she scowled. "The Shadow Broker? You're sure?"
Nodding, Braum turned slightly to regard Liara more directly. "Earnestly: I am sure. Explanatory: I make it a business to keep out of the Shadow Broker's way. With mild terror: It's safer that way."
Sighing again, Liara crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the bar. "Wonderful. Continue, if you please."
"Resigned: The operative on Omega is a Drell. Clarifying: He is named Feron, but he is not the one to retrieve the… Hesitant: merchandise. Continuing: His job is to make contact with the buyer," Braum shifted again, facing Liara straight on. "Defiantly: But you will not have the chance to find out who that will be!"
Liara ground her teeth together in frustration. This work wasn't the kind of thing she was used to. Shepard of Garrus usually did all the questioning. Wrex was the heavy, lurking back, ready and willing to...what was the term Shepard used? Break some elbows? Something like that anyway.
Snarling, Liara was now out of patience. Without turning, she slammed her fist down on the bar, her biotics flashing out as the metal bar top crumpled like an empty aluminum can. The shockwave was powerful enough to smash the entire liquor collection opposite of Liara, and make a deep crater in the wall. Braum, while small for his people, was still an elcor, but his body was slapped away like a ragdoll, smashing through several tables to land in a bloody heap.
Liara didn't even bother to look behind herself to see who had been sneaking up on her. She didn't care. Instead she stalked over to the elcor and stood above him, her aura glowing around her.
"I gave you a chance you miserable ano comedanti…." Liara's voice was frigidly quiet. "Now, now I'm going to have to be sure you tell me everything you know. One way or another."
"Pain Filled Terror: Please! My arms are broken! Desperate Pleading: Don't hurt me anymore! It's the salarian that has the body! Pained Horror: The bones are sticking out!"
"Look at me you useless lump of nothing!" Liara growled as she grabbed the weighted ring that held the elcor's chord and yanked upward. Backed by her biotic energy, Liara hefted the front half of Braum's body off the ground, eliciting a pained squeal. "Tell me who has it!"
"Tazzik!" Braum said loudly, forgetting to add the descriptive statement in his pain and fear. "Tazzik has Shepard!"
Captain Hannah Shepard, SSV Orizaba, Captain's Private Quarters
"...I'm sorry it has come to this, Hannah," Counciler Anderson said, unable to meet Hannah's eyes. "The Council is throwing Shepard under the bus so that they can push their version of events. I'm outvoted and Alliance Command is already toeing the party line."
Leaning back in her chair, Hannah Shepard pushed a stray lock of her dark red hair behind her ear. Her hair was long, hanging down past her waist, and shot through with only a few streaks of steel grey. Normally, it would be up in a tight bun, or at least in a ponytail, but her personal grooming habits had been a bit lax since her son's death.
"I understand Counciler," Hannah said flatly, her face expressionless. "My son. The man that literally saved the Council's lives, stopped Saren, and prevented the death of every sentient being in the galaxy. That man, was a simple crazy person."
Shocked, Anderson's mouth opened to speak, but Hannah cut him off, slamming her fist down on her desk. "Goddamit David!" she yelled. "My boy! My little boy died doing what was right, and all you people can do is piss on his grave?! This isn't why I gave him to you! I let you convince me he could be a good marine! I let him go to war! He was a hero, David! He saved his sisters on Midior, he saved Elysium! He survived fucking Akuze! And now…!" Hannah's voice trailed off as she slowly sat back in her chair, her eyes closed tightly. A single tear managed to leak out.
"Hannah, I'm sorry. I did everything I could," Anderson said quietly. "But we both know what is coming. We have to play along if we want to stand any chance of getting our people ready for the Reapers. It's all we can do to honor John. It's what he would want."
Hannah's eyes snapped back open as she glared up at Anderson. "Don't you dare tell me what my boy would want," she snarled. "I am quite aware of what I have to do. What Jane has to do. But tell me this. How am I going to explain to Kelly, why I have to say to the galaxy that John was a paranoid fool?"
"...I...I don't know Hannah," Anderson whispered as he looked at the floor. "I wish...well...I wish a great many things, but none of them can help now."
Inhaling deeply, Hannah held her breath for a moment before letting it out in a slow sigh. "I'm sorry David," she said softly. "I really am. I know this isn't your fault. Tell Alliance Command, and the Council, that I'll play ball."
"Thank you, Hannah, I'll…" Anderson started before being cut off again, as Hannah raised her hand again.
"I don't care, David," Hannah spoke quietly, but her voice was solid steel. "I really don't, not right now. Right now, I want you to leave. I have to call my daughters. Jane's birthday is going to be soon." Hannah paused for a moment as she closed her eyes. When she spoke again, for the first time, there was a slight hiccup in her voice. "And Johnny's."
Turian Lexicon
Sterkre- Turian for a piece of shit.
Asari Lexicon
Ano Comedanti: Anus Licker. Derogatory, clearly.
Elcor Lexicon
Chord: the leather back cover of an elcor
