Citadel Tower

1100 Zulu

6 May 2183

Presidium, Citadel

The Council took some convincing to admit Kelsa back into their audience chamber, after she and Vakarian and Wrex assaulted Chora's Den with military organisation; Udina said it was a miracle that Kelsa wasn't locked up permanently. But once they found the quarian, with her verified audio of Saren Arterius admitting his complicity in the Eden Prime attack and plotting future aggression, the councilors agreed to rehear Udina and Anderson's case. Kelsa's only here at Anderson's insistence, and other than him, she's got no backup. The aliens didn't let her bring her guns and armour back into the Citadel Tower, so she's wearing her N7 field fatigues with an Alliance beret. Not that that makes her any less dangerous, but she doesn't tell the Council that. In fact, she's decided not to say a word until spoken to first, no matter how stupid Udina and the Council get.

The turian councilor looks the least patient of the three aliens. "We were told that you have actual evidence to support the claims we've previously rejected, Ambassador," he says. "Get on with presenting it; we would like to get to more important business."

Like ignoring some other species' problems, Kelsa doesn't say. Udina doesn't bluster, for once; instead he lifts his left arm and activates his omni-tool. "Eden Prime was a major victory for us," the computer spits out, in Arterius' gruff purr. "The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit."

The asari councilor tilts her head. "Is that authentic?" She asks, and Udina cuts the playback, just before it starts getting good.

"I shall analyse it, Tevos," the salarian councilor says, activating his own omni-tool. "Please repeat the recording, Ambassador."

Udina grumbles. "Gladly, Councilor Valern...there's more to it, as well. I believe the Council should hear all of Saren's treachery in full." The three councilors nod, even the turian, whose name Kelsa hasn't caught yet. Udina restarts the audio and Arterius' voice crackles out of his omni-tool once more. "...to finding the Conduit." After a second's pause, an unfamiliar woman's voice picks up. "And one step closer to the return of the Reapers." The ambassador's omni-tool blinks out, but he raises his arm higher, pointing his finger at the councilors. "You wanted proof," he scoffs. "There it is."

"I know that voice," the asari councilor, Tevos, says, glancing over to her salarian counterpart. "Is the message authentic, Valern?"

"It is," the salarian tells them, but he doesn't sound too pleased to say it. "It appears Saren has betrayed us."

The turian councilor snorts angrily, but when he speaks, it's obvious he's angry at Saren. "This evidence is irrefutable, Ambassador Udina. Saren will be stripped of his Spectre status, and all efforts will be made to bring him in to answer for his crimes."

Who's gonna be making those efforts? Kelsa doesn't ask. Tevos frowns. "I recognise the other voice," she says again. "The one speaking with Saren. There is no way these humans could have fabricated it." She looks over to the turian. "Sparatus, it's Matriarch Benezia. I'd know her anywhere."

The turian, Sparatus, grumbles thoughtfully. "Then it appears Saren's treachery has already begun to spread beyond the Citadel. Only the spirits know how far."

"Benezia is a powerful biotic, with many followers," the asari tells them. "She will make a powerful ally for Saren."

Councilor Valern taps on his chin. "I'm more interested in these Reapers that she mentioned," he says. "What do you know about them, Ambassador?"

Udina shrugs and looks to Anderson. The captain steps forward. "Only what was extracted from the geth's memory core," he tells the Council. "The Reapers were an ancient race of machines that wiped out the protheans...then they vanished."

The human ambassador jumps in. "The geth obviously believe the Reapers are gods, and Saren is the prophet for their return." He pounds a fist into his open palm. "That's why he led them to Eden Prime, to help find the Conduit!"

The salarian councilor doesn't look satisfied. "Do we even know what this Conduit is?"

"Saren thinks it can bring back the Reapers," Anderson answers him. "That's bad enough, in my book."

Sparatus holds up a three-taloned hand. "Listen to what you're saying, Captain," he begs Anderson. "Saren wants to bring back a race of machines that wiped out all civilisation from the galaxy?" He shakes his head. "Impossible. It has to be." He sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "Where did these Reapers go? Why did they vanish, and how come we've found no trace of their existence?" The turian's mandibles twitch. "If they were real, we'd have found something!" Kelsa's discipline stretches to the breaking point, but she just manages to hold back her tongue; to tell the truth, she's been a little freaked out ever since the quarian, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, played the recording of Saren and Benezia in Udina's office a couple of days ago. Those bad dreams she had on Eden Prime were almost past her, until she heard of the Reapers...since then, she hasn't been sleeping too good.

"The Reapers are obviously a myth," Valern scoffs, and Kelsa isn't sure she disagrees with the salarian. "A convenient lie to cover Saren's true purpose, whatever that may be." I hope so, Kelsa thinks to herself, as hard as she's ever thought anything.

Tevos brings up a console on the podium in front of her, and after a few seconds of furious typing, she nods to herself. "There," she says. "Saren Arterius has been stripped of his Spectre authority, and he is now considered a rogue agent. That should strip him of the resources he needs to enact his plans."

"That is not good enough," Ambassador Udina declares, raising his fist again. "You know he's hiding somewhere in the Traverse! Send your fleet in!" Kelsa can tell right off the bat that Udina's tone isn't likely to get him what he wants, but she chalks that up to him being unable to back up the threat behind his demand with any actual force.

Valern frowns. "A fleet can hardly track down one man," he points out.

Undaunted, Udina keeps pressing on. "The Citadel Fleet could secure the entire area," he says. "Prevent the geth from attacking any more of our colonies."

"Or it could trigger a war with the Terminus Systems," Sparatus answers, dismissing the ambassador's concern with a wave. "We won't be dragged into a galactic confrontation over a few dozen human colonies!"

Kelsa's resolve finally breaks. "Don't send in a fleet, then," she says, almost too quietly for the dignitaries to hear. "Send me after him."

Udina and Anderson both jump, as though they forgot she was standing behind them, and the asari councilor looks thoughtful for a minute. "That is one solution worth considering," she admits.

The turian doesn't think so, apparently. "No!" He growls. "It's too soon!" Kelsa blinks, understanding too late how the Council must've interpreted her outburst, but Sparatus goes on before she can say anything. "Humanity is not ready for the responsibility that comes with joining the Spectres!"

"It was a turian Spectre who betrayed this Council," Captain Anderson says, forcefully. "And it was a human who exposed him!" He gives Kelsa a sidelong glance. "She's more than earned this."

But I don't want-it's too late, Kelsa can tell. All three councilors look back and forth at one another just that same way they did the last time Kelsa saw them, when they declared the evidence against Arterius insufficient. After a minute, each one of them nods, and they start tapping on their consoles. Kelsa can feel eyes on her; Anderson's, of course, and Udina's, but also at least a dozen pairs from the Citadel Tower's diplomats and dignitaries. The chamber's wings, empty only a few minutes ago, now look full of curious onlookers. Councilor Tevos is the first to look up from her console, right at Kelsa. "Commander Shepard," the asari says, with a little smile on her face. "Step forward." Kelsa does so, swallowing down her objections, standing as tall and proud as she thinks Anderson expects her to. Whispers trickle in from the crowd in the wings, an uncertain murmuring, and even more people press into the balconies to each side of the Council's dais. The asari councilor lets the whispers run for about thirty seconds before she keeps going. "It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all of the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel."

Valern picks up where Tevos leaves off. "Spectres are not trained," he says, practiced awe in his voice, "but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file."

Kelsa feels sick to her stomach, but she doesn't twitch a muscle. She doesn't want this, but she can't say no; she can't disappoint Anderson. She can't disappoint Jay, even if he's only a few faded memories in the back of her head. The asari councilor starts talking again, about how Spectres are symbols that embody the galaxy's highest ideals, but the human soldier doesn't listen too closely. She can't, or else she'll scream at them; she's not a hero and she's not a guardian of galactic peace, no matter how much Councilor Sparatus growls about it. It's only when the salarian councilor starts talking to her directly that Kelsa stops her mind from wandering.

"We're sending you into the Traverse after Saren," Valern tells her. "He's now a fugitive from justice, so you're authorised to use any means necessary to apprehend or eliminate him."

Kelsa can't imagine three more beautiful words in any language. "Any means necessary," she repeats, almost unable to believe it. Not even Alliance Special Forces can promise her that.

"You're a Council Spectre," Sparatus says. "In the execution of our missions, you answer to no authority but us." He doesn't sound happy. "Saren was one of our most skilled assets, Commander. Are you certain you can get the job done?"

The soldier salutes, as sharp and crisp as if the turian was an Alliance admiral. "Yes, sir," she tells him. "I'll find Saren Arterius, and I will end him."

Subsurface Prothean Ruins

1945 Zulu

12 May 2183

Therum (ashore), Knossos

It took the Alliance two days to give Kelsa a ship, and a promotion to staff commander along with it, even though she didn't ask for either of them. And she damn sure didn't ask to take the Normandy off Anderson's hands after a single mission, but Hackett gave it to her, anyway. Anderson said he didn't hold it against her, that finding Arterius was more important, but Kelsa can still feel the sting behind his eyes, mixed in with his pride. That was four days ago. Now the Normandy's a one-ship flotilla, attached to the Fifth Fleet but outside its regular order of battle; Kelsa's in charge of the mission parameters, and while she and the ship are technically part of the Alliance, Hackett's designated himself to an advisory role until the Council's business is concluded. To that end, Kelsa's spent the last four days scouring the Artemis Tau cluster in search of Matriarch Benezia's daughter, who's supposed to be some kind of prothean expert. The asari's allegiance is unknown, but if Arterius gets his hands on her, he'll use her to help him find the Conduit, and Kelsa can't let that happen.

It looks like Kelsa and her team have struck gold on Therum, a dusty rock world dotted with prothean ruins and guarded by several platoons worth of geth. Even though they're made of silicon and wires rather than flesh and blood, they all stop twitching if you shoot them enough times...or just the once, if you're using the Mako's gun. Kelsa's dropped thirty-two of them since they had to leave the tank behind, just ahead of Wrex's thirty and Alenko's twenty-eight. Vakarian's taken twenty-five looks through his scope and he's seen a machine drop each and every time, which means he'd be the undisputed champion if they counted kills per shot.

"A dead flashlight's a dead flashlight," Alenko gruffs, when Vakarian points that out. He must've got the nickname from Williams, who's back on the Normandy, helping Tali'Zorah guard the engine room. "You want to take out a few more, you've got that assault rifle hooked to your shoulder."

Wrex cackles. "You'd both see more action if you didn't hide behind every damn scrap of rock you came across." While he's talking, one of the high-jumping synthetics leaps down from the ceiling of the cave they're picking their way down, but before the krogan can take it out, Kelsa steals his kill. "Now that's not fair, Shepard," he grumbles.

The soldier shrugs, throwing a glance behind her. "You talk too much," she tells them, smirking. Thirty-three. "Come on," she says, rolling a nod to a rickety-looking elevator. "The signal's coming from underneath us." Kelsa hangs back to let the others onto the platform, only because that means she'll be the first one off when it reaches the next level down.

Or she would, if the geth hadn't fucked up the scaffolding so that the platform hitches halfway to the cavern floor. The whole thing shudders and tips sideways, and Kelsa has to jump onto a stony outcropping to keep from falling all the way. Rock chips off around her from incoming fire, and instinct drives the soldier on, so that she dives and dances onto some lower boulders. The wall to her left's unnatural, smooth stone carved with designs from over fifty thousand years ago; the discovery shut down the mine by Alliance and galactic law, and the mining company simply abandoned the shaft, leaving all of their equipment to rot underground. A quick glance tells Kelsa that some kind of stasis field covers the gap in the prothean ruin, and she judges it safe to leave that flank unguarded as she looks for better cover amidst the rock and the drilling machines. Another twenty-seven geth later, eight of them Kelsa's kills, and the cavern's finally still. Still, but not quite silent.

A muffled echo draws the soldier's attention back to that blue-tinted wall, and a soldier's wariness sees Kelsa level her shotgun, just in case. She sees the figure of an asari caught in the middle of the force field, the alien's feet nearly a metre from the ruin's floor. Kelsa doesn't relax, though, even as she crosses the littered floor; she keeps her gun up, and the rest of her squad follows her lead. "Are you Liara T'Soni?" Kelsa asks, once she's close enough to make out the asari's whimpers more plainly.

The alien can wiggle a little, just enough to try to talk. "I am," she says, her voice echoing strangely through the kinetic barrier. "Please, help me...I've been trapped here...for days, possibly."

Kelsa doesn't move. "How'd you get stuck like that?"

"I was investigating these ruins," the asari tells them. "It appears...I must have activated some kind of...security field," she manages, but it's clear that every word takes more effort than the last. "The control panel is...behind me. If you can...reach it...that would help."

The soldier looks back to the ruined elevator. "Doesn't look like we're getting out the way we came in," she says, more to herself than anything. "There another way up back there, too, T'Soni?"

"There is," the asari warbles, but Kelsa turns her back to the trapped alien.

"Alenko," the commander snaps. "Keep her in your sights." The lieutenant replies with an uncertain Aye, aye, Commander, and Kelsa stalks back through the cave until she comes to a big machine that looks like it could come in handy. "I think this'll help."

"I think so, Shepard," Vakarian says, from three steps behind her. Covering her back, even though he's not under her command; they're both after the same thing, they're both soldiers, and that's good enough. "It's a mining laser, Eldfell-Ashland proprietary design...which means they stole it from a turian firm," he quips. "Give me two minutes and I can have it slicing through this rock like a sword through the sea."

Kelsa nods and directs Wrex and Alenko to stand aside. True to his word, the turian has the laser spinning to his will, and he uses it to carve a trench down to the next level of ruins. "I...think that did it," T'Soni gasps. "Please hurry...I think I'm running...out of air…"

The commander leads the charge down the new pathway, but there aren't any geth waiting for them in the lower section of the prothean ruin. Just as T'Soni said, there's a way up to her level; another elevator, both far older and much more advanced than the platforms that Eldfell-Ashland threw up in the catacombs to help their miners get around. Just as the elevator reaches the captive asari, an ominous rumbling sounds from the walls of the cave beyond her. "Shit," Kelsa says. "Looks like we don't have too much time."

Alenko's already at the control panel that T'Soni told them about. "I...think I can get this," he says. "Doctor T'Soni, do you know which buttons I should press to release you?"

"I...I'm not sure," T'Soni tells him, struggling, trying to turn her head. She can't quite make it. "I know the code is directional...you see there are four circular buttons? Those will take down the shields...if you can press them...in the correct order…"

"Got it," the lieutenant vows. The ruins are shaking, just a little bit, and Alenko's gotta try three times, but he eventually figures out the right sequence. The blue-tinted barriers flicker and die, and the asari falls onto her hands and knees.

Kelsa makes sure she doesn't stay that way for long; the soldier rushes forward, picking T'Soni up roughly by the collar of her uniform and pinning her against the old prothean wall. Kelsa's combat knife whispers against the alien's sapphire throat, just underneath her jaw, while the soldier's shotgun rests flush against T'Soni's cheek. "I've got three questions," Kelsa tells the other woman, "and if I don't like your answers, I will kill you, asari. You get me?"

"Commander," Alenko ventures, nervous. "This place is about to come down...is now really the time?"

Kelsa's green eyes don't twitch away from the asari's sapphire orbs. "It is if she wants to keep breathing for more than five minutes," she tells her subordinate. "Now, tell me what Saren Arterius wants with this place."

The asari's face is blank, from shock or exhaustion or terror, but mention of the name should've registered something. Instead, even with the possible tools her of own death within millimetres of her face, T'Soni blinks. "I've never heard that name before," the asari claims.

For some reason, Kelsa believes her. A few chips rain down from the ceiling, too close above them. "Okay," she says. "Do you know what your mother's been up to? Why she's betrayed the Council?"

The ridges that serve as the asari's eyebrows pull together. "Betrayed...what?" Now she looks afraid, but it's not the fear of guilt, at least as far as Kelsa can tell. "I've not spoken more than pleasantries with Mother in over fifty years, since I finished University and struck out on my own."

It's Kelsa's turn to blink. Fifty years? She almost asks how old T'Soni is, but that would burn up her last question, and they really don't have a lot of time. "Have you ever heard of the Reapers?"

Several loud crashes steal the words of T'Soni's response, but it's clear that she said no. "Come on, Shepard," Wrex yells. "This place's gonna blow!"

Kelsa hesitates for one more heartbeat before she pulls back. "Keep an eye on her," she yells to Alenko, and she punches the ancient elevator to take them as high as it'll go the second he pulls the asari onto the platform. As high as it'll go doesn't quite get them to the surface, though, and there's a fresh gang of geth waiting for them in the tunnel that the elevator connects them to.

A gigantic krogan, even bigger than Wrex, looks to be their leader. "I believe that belongs to Saren," he rumbles, pointing his assault rifle in the asari's direction. "As thanks for retrieving her, I'm to give you a quick-"

"We don't have time for this shit," Kelsa barks, lunging into a run. She's still got her big field knife in her left hand, turned down so the flat of the blade's flush with her forearm. The distance to her quarry disappears before she's even finished talking, and Kelsa takes a spray of assault rifle fire on her shields before she can sink the knife into the krogan's eye. That, coupled with a point-blank shotgun blast to the turtle-man's throat, is just enough to bring him down with a gurgled scream. Kelsa lets go of her knife as the krogan falls, using her momentum to bull into the geth. She takes two of them out, but the rest are just a distraction that the others can clean up, and she urges the rest of the team forward as the cave shakes apart around them.

The Normandy's sleek profile is waiting for the party at the mouth of the cave, and Kelsa can't imagine a more welcoming sight. She dives into the open cargo bay, rolling to one knee, and a half-second later she's joined by the rest of the shore party, along with a thick plume of red-brown dust from the final collapse of the ruins.

"Cutting it a little close there, Commander," Moreau quips over the intercom. "Another ten seconds and we'd've had to pull you out of lava and sulfur. The Normandy's not really spec'd to land in an active volcano...you know, for future reference."

Kelsa coughs, choking on the first answer that comes to mind. She sees that someone, probably Williams, has recovered the Mako. "Get us the fuck outta here, Lieutenant," she says instead. "Set course for the relay."

"Aye, aye, Commander," the pilot affirms. "Know where you want us to jump to?"

The soldier straightens up, taking stock of her crew, and their new guest. "Haven't decided," she admits. "We picked up a package I wanna open first. Shepard out." The comm crackles and cuts out. "Everybody all right?"

Vakarian and Wrex both say they're fine. "Just some scrapes and bruises, ma'am," Alenko tells her, but he nods to T'Soni. "I think Liara should see Doctor Chakwas, though. Exhaustion and dehydration, if for no other reason."

The asari struggles to her feet. "I'm fine, really," she says. "Now that I've been able to move and breathe…"

Kelsa grunts a laugh. "I didn't scramble that krogan's brain just to watch you die of thirst." She checks her gun for dust, but the gesture must look menacing, because the asari flinches. Kelsa frowns, but she doesn't feel guilty. "I'll take you to see the doc, then we'll hold a debriefing in the comm room. Everybody meet up there in half an hour." She looks over to the armory bench. "You too, Williams. Bring the quarian." The other human woman snaps off an Aye, aye, ma'am, even though she was skulking around and trying to make herself invisible to the mostly-alien party. Kelsa nods and caches her shotgun at the small of her back, making a note to clean it out when she gets the chance, and then she gestures for T'Soni to follow her. The asari hesitates, sparing a glance to Alenko, who probably seems much friendlier. "It wasn't a request, T'Soni," the commander reminds her.

Finally the alien draws up her courage, and follows Kelsa into the elevator. Here, in the ship's brighter lights, Kelsa can see more details; the splash of darker freckles over the asari's pale-blue cheeks, the purple hue to her lips. She's tall, taller than Alenko, but she's obviously rattled by Kelsa's inspection. "I am at a loss," T'Soni says, swallowing; as she does so, Kelsa notices a thin line of purple on the right-hand side of the asari's throat, where the knife whispered just a little too closely. "You know my name, even my mother's name, but I don't know yours."

The soldier takes a breath, and the elevator doors open onto the crew deck. "I never knew my momma's name," she admits, and she's not quite sure why she does it. "But she called me Kelsa."

Author's note: Thanks so much to everybody who's reading along, especially to my lovely reviewers! And an extra-special thanks to clafount for being such an awesome beta-reader!