24 - Citadel: Expose Saren

Commander Shepard lost track of Ambassador Udina on the way back to his office, but it wasn't something that overly concerned her. Probably he had some diplomatic business to smooth over in the aftermath of humanity's complete humiliation before the Citadel Council, though she couldn't imagine what that might be. She also couldn't care less; it wasn't exactly Udina's fault, but he hadn't proven himself to be the pinnacle of diplomatic acumen either.

So if Udina noticed the somber mood in his office when he finally returned to it, he showed no signs of it, and it was just as well. Captain Anderson, Lieutenant Alenko and Chief Williams were all sitting at the little table in the corner while Commander Shepard stood staring out over the balcony at the Presidium outside. None of them looked up to greet him or recognized his arrival in any way, and Udina failed to notice this too. "It was a mistake bringing you into that hearing, Captain," he said as the door closed behind him, "You and Saren have too much history. It made the Council question our motives."

Anderson looked up from the table, "I know Saren. He's working with the Geth for one reason only: to exterminate the entire human race. Every colony we have is at risk, every world we control is in danger. Even Earth isn't safe."

"Then we need to deal with Saren ourselves," Shepard said.

Udina sighed, scratched his chin. There was no anger left in him, no conflict or blame. Just a problem, and the need to deal with it. "As a Spectre, he's virtually untouchable. We need to find some way to expose him."

"What about Garrus Vakarian?" Kaiden said, "That C-Sec investigator we saw arguing with the executor?"

Williams added, "It did seem like he was close to finding something on Saren. He said something about needing more time to investigate fully?"

"It couldn't hurt," Shepard said, "Any idea where we could find him?"

Udina said, "I have a contact in C-Sec who can help us track him down. His name is Harkin..."

Anderson almost choked on his spit. "Forget it. They suspended Harkin last month. Drinking on the job. I won't waste my time with that loser."

"You don't have to, Captain. I don't want the Council using your past history with Saren as an excuse to ignore anything we turn up. Shepard will handle this."

Commander Shepard turned from the balcony as if his words had been a gunshot. "Ambassador, you can't just cut the Captain out of this investigation..."

"No, Shepard, he's right. We can't afford any more setbacks. I need to step aside."

Udina didn't so much as nod at this, just took it in stride and moved on. "I need to take care of some business. Captain Anderson, meet me back here in two hours. Bring all the Eden Prime data you have and we'll see if we overlooked something. Shepard, you and your people do what you can, but please try to stay out of trouble." And then he turned to leave, as if he was trying to avoid the series of rude gestures and unflattering comments that was destined to come flying his way any second now.

"You heard the man," Anderson said, standing up slowly, "We're down twenty at half time. Better get our asses in gear."

Williams stood up as well, and Lieutenant Alenko stood up saying, "What does that expression mean? I mean, no, I know what it means, but what's it from?"

"It's an American thing... sports reference maybe. I dunno."

They followed Captain Anderson in something not totally unlike parade formation, two by two with Commander Shepard at his right hand and the Lieutenant and Chief behind them. They exchanged no words as the Captain called the elevator; the Embassay Lobby somehow seemed entirely too crowded to even breathe, let alone speak.

It sucked, but they had indeed lost this round. It wasn't painful because they'd lost - as a soldier, Shepard was prepared for this as much as anything else - it was painful because their winning or losing meant so much to so many people and yet depended on so many things totally out of their control. That feeling of helplessness wasn't something any soldier could train for or even accept. It was, in fact, probably the number one cause of so many civil wars and uprisings throughout history, when some politician or another made his own soldiers feel so utterly helpless that they would take up a weapon and murder their own leaders just to make that feeling go away...

The elevator doors opened and Captain Anderson stepped inside. Shepard and the others followed him in and then flattened themselves against the walls as the car started to move towards the roof.

"Harkin's probably gettin drunk at Chora's Den," Anderson said, "It's a dingy little club over in Zakera Ward."

"It's worth a try," Shepard said, "But we're in trouble if that's our only lead."

Anderson thought about it for a moment, "You know... you should talk to the Volus banker over in the Commons. His name's Barla Von. Rumor has it he's an agent for the Shadow Broker."

"What's a shadow broker?" Williams asked.

"They have a thing here called an Information Broker. It's like a cross between a journalist and a private eye. They buy and sell secrets to the highest bidder. The Shadow Broker isn't the most famous, but he is the most prolific, and Barla Von is one of his top representatives."

"So he might have information about Saren."

"He might," said Anderson, "He specializes in moving large sums of money without leaving a paper trail. A financial genius. Doesn't do anything illegal, but he knows all the loopholes. He's got an impressive client list. Ambassadors, diplomats, Spectres. That's probably why the shadow broker deals with him."

"So then what's so important about this Shadow Broker guy? He sounds like a glorified blogger or a tabloid journalist..."

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Captain Anderson led them onto the rooftop and straight to a public air car that was already open and waiting for a client. "Think of it this way." Anderson said, stopping next to the car, "Everyone has their price, it's just a matter of who can afford it. With enough money, you could pay someone to give you the specifications of the Normandy's stealth systems, and if someone offered you more money than you paid to get it, you'd make a profit selling that info. Those are the kinds of secrets I'm talking about. Or maybe not always that dramatic. You could buy information you could use for blackmail, insider trading, or just embarassing a rival politician. You could buy information that could start a war, or sell information to prevent one..." Anderson's face twisted into something between a grin and a grimace as he sat down in the air car. "I got it. Imagine if the Office of Naval Intelligence was being run on a for-profit basis. You could spy on people just to sell their secrets to their worst enemies. And then you stay in business by spying on your buyers and sell their secrets back to your original victims."

"This... um... doesn't seem like the kind of person we ought to be getting involved with." Shepard walked around to the other side of the air car and sat down next to him while Williams and Alenko took the back seats.

"I beg to differ. Information brokers are a necessary evil in galactic politics. Buying and selling information is part of the game, and the Shadow Broker is the best player on the field. Always pays to the highest bidder. Doesn't get involved in politics and doesn't pick sides. Simple system, but it's worked so far. He's not a threat to anyone, he's just a resource we can use. Or she. Or they. No one really knows."

"Any recommendations on where to start?"

Anderson hit the switch to close the doors and cockpit cover and started up the air car's mass effect engine. As the computer went through the system checks he asked, "Have you been down to the wards yet?"

"No. Why?"

"Then you should start with Barla Von. The Wards can be pretty rough on newcomers, but if you think of it like Hong Kong or Gaza, you should be okay. Well I mean... not okay, but you won't be that surprised when something weird happens." Anderson took the controls and the Air Car lifted off. The computer put a navpoint on the car's HUD plotting the location of the nearest available public landing pad in the Financial District. Not for the first time, Shepard wondered what kind of safety measures were in place to prevent these cars from being accidentally - or worse, deliberately - steered into the sides of buildings at high velocities. That the VI soon moved the car into the flow of traffic - literally dozens of cars running along the circumference of the presidium ring - made her wonder this even more.

"I'm also planning to requisition a shuttle from the Alliance outpost in Zakera Ward," Anderson added, "It'll take me a while, but it's better than moving around in the public cabs."

"Remind me again why that is," Shepard said.

"Because Saren isn't going to stand idly by while we go on investigating on the side. Even if he thinks he's untouchable, which he basically is, he'll have his people keeping close tabs on your investigation. At the very first sign that we might be onto something, he'll have one or all of us killed."

"God..." Williams shudders, "And this is the kind of guy the Council trusts with galactic peace?"

"He's the kind of guy who gets the job done," Commander Shepard said, "Whatever the job happens to be, whatever it takes to reach the goal. He's ruthless and efficient and shows no hesitation at all."

"Which is why they wanted you, Commander. Saren is an unstoppable force, and you're an immovable object. I have a feeling one of the reasons they selected you was to counteract his growing influence among in Citadel Space."

"Is this what we were talking about last night? How he's getting more and more involved with galactic politics..."

"Exactly. Spectres don't have any real limits on their power except for the scrutiny of another Spectre. The Division is supposed to police its own members and keep them from flying off the rails. But when it's somebody with a pedigree like Saren Arturius, you can get away with a lot before they call you to the carpet."

Williams laughed, "So the Council created their own monster and now they're refusing to admit that it's grown out of their control."

"I can almost see their point of view," Alenko added, "Saren's never let them down before."

Shepard shrugged, "Well, his particular brand of crazy is very useful as long as it's directed at someone else."

Anderson laughed as the air car banked over and circled down towards the landing pad. The Financial District spread out below them, along with the high terraces of the Presidium Commons with its shops and restaurants and villas overlooking it all. The VI planted the air car on the ground and hit the switch on the console to open the doors; the car's transparent carapace opened up around them and Shepard and her team stepped out.

"Good hunting out there, Shepard. I'll be in the ambassador's office if you need me."

"How about that shuttle?" Shepard asked, "When can we expect that?"

"There's a Lieutenant Bailey over in Zakera Ward who owes me a few favors. I'll put in some calls."

Shepard saluted, and Captain Anderson closed the air car and rose up and away from the landing pad. Somehow, Shepard saw it like a flag going up on the mast of a battleship, signaling the start of a new operation. In some ways it was, in other ways it was the end of an otherwise brilliant military career.

Funny how those two things could coexist in the same symbol.