The ship they ported to was salarian.
Shepard expected something clinical and antiseptic, but the interior was surprisingly organic, in a way even Asari vessels didn't convey. Smooth, flowing lines dotted with planters full of strange botanicals, shifting, dappled light, the subtle air flow all conveyed a sense of the outdoors she hadn't experienced on a ship or station since the former Citadel. She glanced up at the ship's captain with her odd eyes, one bright and flickering, one still hidden behind a milky cataract of damage. "It's lovely," she stated simply, and smiled.
"You seem surprised, Commander," the salarian answered. If her gaze disturbed him he didn't show it. As with most of his race, his voice sounded faintly sardonic to her. "We are an advanced culture, and deeply sensitive to the benefits of a proper sensory atmosphere."
"Of course," she murmured. "Thank you for having us aboard, Captain."
Behind her, Miranda and Garrus had debarked the flitter and taken up instinctive positions at her three and six. Garrus rolled his eyes around the entryway appreciatively, making a little noise that sounded like a whistle. Miranda… well, she looked like she always did. She looked politely bored. "Sir, I understand the Council is waiting for us to arrive. Would you be so kind as to show us the way?" Shepard continued. With an enigmatic little nod, the gangly captain turned to lead.
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"Bailey," she barked, surprised. The man fumbled with a crutch and rose to his feet, clearly wanting to embrace her. She closed the distance and pulled him briefly into a one-armed hug. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, her smile turning into something genuine.
"Well, with Udina's little coup attempt and Anderson's… untimely misfortune, the short list of human council eligibles is giving the aliens fits. So I guess I'm a glorified seat warmer for now. Between you and me, I think they're kind of hoping you'd be up for the job, Shepard."
If she laughed a little shortly, no one seemed to notice. "I doubt it, Bailey. My brand of diplomacy tends to piss off politicians."
"Ah, but you're a tough negotiator. When you point that smoking barrel at 'em, nobody leaves the table."
She shrugged. "To clarify, I also set the best table in the Alliance. Come for the food, stay for the looming threat of violence." Patting him on a shoulder, she moved forward into the makeshift conference room.
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"Councilors," she nodded. They had arranged themselves in a kind of elevated semi-circle, clearly working the room to their best advantage as always. Bailey hobbled in, shut the door, and took a back seat.
"Commander Shepard. We are gratified for your audience," rumbled a somewhat burn-marked Turian. Ah, Sparatus. Her old nemesis. Or so he'd like to think, she thought grumpily.
"Indeed, it is good to see you looking… well?" the asari called Irissa managed. She fixed her brilliant eyes on Shepard's somewhat tattered body with what in human terms was incredulity.
Valern got to the point. "We need your assistance with a few issues," he said, his huge black eyes telescoping shut to punctuate his words.
"I'm sure I'll regret this, but please elaborate," said Shepard. Behind her, Garrus fidgeted. Miranda was a vision of cool white stillness. Shepard resisted the urge to spit or tap her foot.
"Without functioning mass relays, the galaxy is falling into socio-economic chaos," the salarian recited. "The scientists and engineers amassed in this quadrant have been able to conduct some remarkable studies on the remains of the old relays and the Citadel, as well as the schematics for the Crucible device. We believe we will be able, given time and resources, to build an approximation of the old technology to replace what was lost. However…"
"Here we go," Bailey muttered drily.
"However," Valern continued sternly, "there is no current 'hub' in place for a mass relay system. Ongoing research suggests the Citadel played that role, among its other functions. Without a central hub, the relay system as it stands now will not work. We can built bilateral relays that communicate with one another, but not an interlocking system of relays. Therefore…"
"Therefore, someone will need to make their way to a central star system and build a hub."
"As always, Commander, you have a quick grasp of the situation."
"How would one accomplish this? The amount of fuel needed to travel between star systems without a relay is astronomically huge, not to mention FTL travel is far from instantaneous. It would take years… decades, perhaps…"
"More than a century in total. However, we believe we are in possession of a ship, per se, large enough to undertake the journey, albeit in hops."
"The old Citadel," said Miranda quietly.
"Just so," said Valern, pleased.
"Don't you think that's a bit… dangerous?" Garrus queried. "From what I understand, the Citadel controlled the Reapers. And then it killed everyone aboard and tried to fry Shepard."
"We have cleared out a number of ancient system codices that were revealed when Shepard took control," trilled Irissa. "We have also done a general cleanup and removed superfluous structures. The Citadel will be prepared for launch to the nearest fuel-bearing star system in less than 8 standard Galactic days."
"Eight days? What's the rush?" Garrus was simultaneously perplexed and irritated. The three Council members glanced at one another, and then, as if in decision, back to Shepard.
"Each day is precious," Sparatus said gruffly. "Each day we… the many races of the galaxy… remain in limbo, unable to return to home and life, we get closer to true cultural annihilation, the kind the Reapers sought to bring about. As the ark hops from system to system, it can carry with it quantum entanglement constructs that will seed the mass relays being built. We estimate the nearest star system, Alpha Centauri, is less than five light years away. At FTL speeds, that means if a team leaves now, we could be sending hundreds if not thousands of refugees home in about three years. Would you wait, Vakarian?" Garrus was silent, pondering.
Shepard, who had been standing silently at parade rest throughout most of this exchange, spoke up. "Who will go?" she asked.
"We were hoping you would help us decide," said Valern.
"Me?" Shepard was not good at playing coy, but she made an effort. "I'm just an ex-Spectre Alliance soldier. I'm not much for making grand decisions." Bailey made a snorting noise that could have come from an elephant.
"There is a seat on this Council for the human race. We want you to fill it," said Irissa. It suddenly struck Shepard that for all her glamour and cunning, the asari diplomat could not compare to Liara. She slowly began to shake her head.
"You've done a marvelous thing for the civilized races," said Sparatus. "You've brought about a temporary truce and united us against a great evil. Your achievements alone have earned you a leadership position, but your value as a diplomat is a far more potent consideration at this juncture. The galaxy's peoples listen to you."
"Only when the chips are down," Shepard rejoined. "It is a universal truth that hard news is never welcome, and I've been kicked out of a LOT of meetings in my time."
"You're a remarkable leader, Shepard," said Irissa softly. "The galaxy needs you. We need you."
"You certainly have a need. But before I answer you, will you allow me to make some suggestions?" There was a general nodding and flurry of alien hands. "First off, you need to give the quarians a council seat. Without their massive fleet and their truly revolutionary insights into the Reaper AI frame, we'd all be long dead." Valern coughed angrily, Sparatus looked stony, but Irissa looked thoughtful. "Let's also face the truth. Even if a hub team is able to seed new mass relays, you're going to need the Migrant Fleet and all its travel resources sorely in the next few decades. The least you can do is give them a voice in your deliberations." She watched their faces as they thought about it. Slowly, the three seemed to come to an agreement.
"You make a valid point, Shepard," said Valern. "The Migrant Fleet is self-sustaining and the only force capable of significant lateral movement besides the… what did you call it? The hub team. We will approach the quarians for candidates."
"Do you have any suggestions?" added Irissa.
"Tali'zorah vas Normandy is an excellent soldier, gifted researcher, and more than capable of working with different races and cultures. She distinguished herself in the battle of Rannoch and proved capable of extraordinary compromise and flexibility. Not to mention she's personally assisted in taking down more than one Reaper dreadnought. But I am biased. I leave it to you to explore suitable candidates. Perhaps Admiral Xen, she seems to have a very level head on her shoulders."
"Is this another human idiom? Are people with crooked heads less intelligent?" whispered Garrus.
"Shut up, idiot," hissed Miranda.
"Also," and here Shepard paused to take a deep breath, "I think you should consider giving the Krogans a Council seat as well." Sure enough, the turian Councilor literally turned purple with rage, and the salarian's eyes began flickering open and shut so fast he looked like a crazed steam valve. Before they could light into her, she raised a hand, and -miracle of miracles- they subsided. She waited a beat to see if smoke would come out of anyone's ears (where does a salarian keep his ears anyways?), then lowered her hand back down to her side.
"They've grown," she said in a low monotone. "I know it and so do you, even if you don't want to admit it. You all saw how Wrex handled things on Palaven, and then again on Earth. The Krogan forces were magnificent. And now they have a chance to rebuild, spread, integrate. You can keep tearing one another apart, or you can get your own heads out of the sand and face the future. You have needed them twice before, you will need them again in the years to come, so put aside your fear and hatred and make a new start that will benefit everyone." Shepard paused, unable to resist rubbing her forehead wearily. "Or, you know. Keep treating them like lab animals and see how long it takes before they revert and start ripping off heads. That's another plan you could do."
"You force this on us now, after blatantly disregarding our request to keep the genophage intact," Valern fumed.
Shepard narrowed her eyes. This sounded familiar. "I keep my promises," she spat. "Wrex had humanity's back when you turned yours. I'll thank you to remember that." For a moment the room seemed fraught, on the verge of violence.
"Enough!" said the Asari. "We've all made mistakes. Valern, we know your reasons for wanting the Krogan kept under control. And Shepard, we know you are anything but subtle. Given the possible consequences of subterfuge, many of us think you made the right decision when you decided to honor the pact this Council made with the Krogan. In the end it is what it is. Shepard makes an excellent point when she says that the Krogan will rebuild with us or without us. I would rather have them under Council jurisdiction than the alternative."
At some point in the conversation, Garrus had appeared directly behind Shepard, his hand lightly grazing a concealed blade at his hip. She felt his breath ruffling her short hair, and turning, flashed him a quick grin. As she turned the edge of her ink flashed up at him from beneath her collar, and he flushed. The turian councilor regarded the pair with interest.
"Vakarian," Sparatus barked suddenly. "I know your father."
"Yes, sir," said Garrus, flicking his eyes delicately away from Shepard's chest.
"A very distinguished name, Vakarian. Your mother was also from a good clan."
"She was… a remarkable woman, Councilor."
"No doubt, no doubt. And you, you have no doubt made a very distinguished bond?"
"I… have no official ties, no, sir."
"No official ties. But perhaps a special woman? Another military leader? Your father could keep me updated I suppose, he is working on the Citadel renovation, of course."
"He is? He's here, sir?"
"Indeed. He has lobbied for years to keep his progeny out of my political scheming, but after recent events he will be hard pressed to keep me from submitting your name for Ambassador. I take a great interest in your career, young man."
"I'm afraid I would not make a very good ambassador, sir."
"I heartily disagree. Don't you disagree, Shepard?"
Her mismatched eyes flickered up to Garrus's glittering blue. "I do indeed. He's far too good for me to ever spare him," she said with a smile. The councilor huffed, but for a moment the marksman and the commander only had eyes for each other. Then she lowered her gaze and unhooked a data pad from her belt.
"I've compiled a list of observations and suggestions over the course of the past two months, that I'd like to leave with you before I exit today. Apart from the things we've already discussed, I've laid out an argument for decriminalizing AIs, reintegrating rogue human factions, centralizing Prothean studies, and a few other things. I very much hope that you will take my humble words into consideration. And furthermore, I will not be accepting the Council position." She laid the data pad on the desk before the three politicians, and stepped back. After a few seconds, a storm of expostulations and angry exclamations burst forth.
"Commander," cried Irissa, "please explain!"
Shepard's body ached miserably from standing so straight. "I believe my reasoning is fairly obvious, but I'll review it. First, when it comes to choosing between the interests of the Alliance and the interests of the Council, I am and will forever be hopelessly biased. Secondly, even if I did become a Councilor, there are factions on Earth and Luna that are attempting to turn me into some kind of dictatorial figurehead, and I would rather not have to kill those people. Lastly, my own work isn't over. The Reaper threat is finished, but what they have left behind still puts us all in danger. I cannot and will not rest until I am satisfied that the world of the old machines is put away for good.
"So if you will not join the Council, and you will not join the humans, what will you do?" demanded Sparatus angrily.
"Again, I think that should be obvious," said Shepard, raising one eyebrow. "I will take the hub team to Widow."
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**Let me try and explain my terrible scientific reasoning behind why the mass relay systems only work with a hub. Theoretically (and I totally stole this from Orson Scott Card), one could create a "quantum entanglement pair" which is like, one particle that is in two different places at once. Anything you do to the particle in once place, also happens to that particle in another place. So you can use the "pair" to communicate, or with, say, a different kind of particle, maybe you could use them to make mass relays. The trouble is there's only two in a pair. So if you want to use one relay to go to several different places, maybe you have to have one central place that has one of each pair. Like a server. I.e. let's say you have A1 and A2 and that is a quantum entangled pair. If you want to go from A1 to A2, no problem. But if you also have B1 and B2, and C1 and C2, and so on, and you want A1 to be able to go to B1 and C1, then maybe you have to have one spot in the middle where all the 2s go. If A2, B2, C2, and D2 are all on the Citadel, then you can go A1-A2-B2-B1 and then B1 would be some totally different place. Get it? No? Yeah I suck at explaining. Just read the story.**