"This is Khalisah Al-Jilani for Westerlund News, reporting on a disturbing high-profile assassination in the middle of the downtown Bachjret Ward. Earlier today, two armed criminals executed a highly co-ordinated attack on the building behind me," Khalisah gestured to the blasted entrance she was standing in front of, and her camera swivelled to capture it, "Killing a total of fourteen men and women, including Dahlia Dantius, alleged drug kingpin and sister of the well-known ambassador Nassana Dantius. Nassana declined to comment, though expert sources are indicating that the attack was organized by a rival drug lord displeased with Ms. Dantius's sudden skyrocket to power. I'm joined by Executor Pallin, C-Sec, a ranking officer at C-Sec. Executor, could you please describe for me what happened here?" The camera swivelled to the turian standing opposite her, in full armour. He looked very displeased.
"The attack was over nearly as quickly as it started. A female human sniper killed three men on the roof from the Siharth Building, over there." The turian pointed to a tall, sheer glass skyscraper. "You can see where one of the windows was blown out by the sniper. Then she grappled to the roof and used a maintenance stairwell to get to Dahlia Dantius, where the sniper killed Dantius as well as her three bodyguards. Meanwhile, a krogan male was attacking the ground floor."
"There are rumours floating that the krogan male was actually dropped from skycar-height out of a Citadel Waste Disposal truck, can you confirm or deny that?" Khalisah asked eagerly. The turian looked very disgruntled as he said,
"I am afraid I cannot comment on that matter."
"And is there any clue as to the identities of these criminals?"
"Only that they identified themselves as 'Red Dragon' and 'Black Dragon.' They used equipment largely consistent with low-level mob enforcers. Black was the krogan, red the human. If any of your viewers see any strangely coloured dragons flying around—do let us know." It seemed to be costing the turian Executor a very great strain on his patience to participate in the interview. Khalisah decided this would be a good time to cut it short.
"Thank you, Executor, that will be all. Once again, this has been Khalisah Al-Jilani, reporting live from the Citadel for Westerlund News." The camera disabled the live broadcast at her cue, though of course it was always still filming in case she ever saw anything noteworthy. She just wished she'd been here this morning, she could've sworn she'd passed by this building just the other day….
Oh well. She couldn't dwell on that. She made her way onto a side street and fell into the flow of traffic milling beneath the shimmering skyscrapers, intent on getting back to her apartment to do some research. Despite what the Executor said, Khalisah wasn't convinced this was the work of a rival drug lord. The equipment they had used might have been typical of mob enforcers, but Khalisah had been reporting for thirteen years and she'd never seen an attack as co-ordinated at this one. This stank of the Shadow Broker, she was sure of it.
And more than that … whoever that sniper had been, they had fired four perfect shots from one high rise down to another in about three seconds flat. It was foolish to draw conclusions without hard evidence, but having recently examined what information there was available about Commander Shepard, she couldn't help but see similarities. Like the assassin, Shepard exhibited extreme accuracy and marksmanship ability. Like the assassin, Shepard was a remorseless killer. And, shuddering as she remembered Shepard's cold face, with those unblinking eyes and that gruesome scar, she could definitely see where the nickname "Red Dragon" might fit. It was just a hunch, but maybe if she was able to dig up something else in her research…. Shepard. Shepard. The name sounded familiar, like she'd read it somewhere before, though she couldn't remember where from.
She hadn't realized how far her thoughts had carried her as she walked: she barely recognized the area of the Citadel she was in. She took a moment to check her omnitool's local map, when she heard someone calling her name, a deep male baritone.
"Al-Jilani!" She turned to see a tall, middle-aged black man marching towards her, a look of dislike on his face so intense that it took even her off-guard. She was used to people being angry with her for some reason or another, but this man looked downright furious. It was only after he had caught up to her that she realized he was wearing an Alliance uniform. "I want a word with you," The man said, his jaw set defiantly.
"I'm afraid I don't have time to chat with viewers," she said automatically, wondering what she'd done to piss this guy off.
"How about viewers who can get you arrested?" The man snarled.
"The Alliance has no authority on the Citadel," she said coolly, though she made a mental note to delete her camera's video records after she got home.
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure that hacking private databases is still illegal," The man insisted. That made her falter; she scanned his eyes, but she couldn't tell if he was lying yet. "My name is David Anderson. I'd like to talk to you about Nicole Shepard. Why don't you join me for a cup of coffee?" He gestured to a nearby coffee shop. Apparently salarians couldn't get enough of the drink, so coffee shops had become nearly as popular on the Citadel as they were on Earth. She was about to say 'no' when he took her by the arm and led her in. His grip wasn't tight, but she had the impression that he wasn't about to just let her get away without having his say.
He thrust her into a seat and sat opposite her, staring very hard. Getting more than a little exasperated with his dramatics, she said
"Could we get to the point?"
"Stay away from Nicole Shepard." Khalisah's eyebrows shot up in surprise. So that was what this was about. That made this horse a much different colour. She ordered a coffee from the touch panel on the table between them.
"Are you trying to silence the press?" A volus waiter brought her coffee—Khalisah accepted it and took a sip, ignoring the scorching on her lips.
"I'm trying to stop you from destroying a good person," Anderson insisted, pounding on the table with his fist. The touch screen panel briefly went haywire and flashed multiple drink options.
"The people have the right to know that the Alliance is training a bloody assassin and sending her off to kill people they don't like."
"For Christ's sake, listen to yourself! Osaka wasn't some damn political idealist, he was a drug lord, a rapist, a murderer! Would you really want a man like that running amok?"
"No. But that doesn't change the fact that you and I both know she didn't kill him on her shore leave," Khalisah insisted. She knew without the faintest doubt that Anderson would never see eye-to-eye with her, but she was hoping he might slip up and say something he didn't mean to in his anger. "It's more than humans among my viewership, you know. Plenty of aliens are curious about just what the newest Spectre has been getting up to, now that she's taken up galactic espionage."
"And it's customary to investigate every detail of a newly appointed Spectre's history, is it?"
"As a matter of fact," Khalisah said, taking another sip of coffee, "It is. Of course the Citadel Council tries to hush anyone who looks too closely up, but that's the Council for you. Secretive elitest pricks, each one of them."
"You want to know about Nicole Shepard? I'll tell you about Nicole Shepard," Anderson said harshly. "She was the best I ever saw. Ever. She can jump higher, run longer, shoot better, think faster than any soldier I've ever seen. She could do that at nineteen. And because she could," Anderson continued, his voice rising now, "The Alliance decided to use her. To get the most out of her, put her where the danger was thickest. That's how she wound up on Akuze, and I'm sure you've read about that by now!"
"Yes, I have," Khalisah said, slightly unnerved by the Alliance captain's sudden fervor.
"That's why she got sent on all the shit." Anderson waved a hand furiously. "Because she was incredible. She's the most gifted person I've ever met, athletically, or in terms of intelligence. And it's earned her nothing. Not a lick of gratitude, or happiness, or … nothing. She deserves better." Khalisah could tell he meant it. She knew the liars when she saw them and Anderson, whatever he was, was no liar. There was something like sadness in his eyes when he spoke about Shepard, enough that she could tell that Shepard was important to him.
"If you think sympathy for some soldier is going to—"
"She's not just some soldier! Dammit, haven't you been listening to me, she didn't have a choice! She—" Anderson looked furious with himself and turned away from her, rising out of his seat in one movement. "I should've known better than to appeal to your humanity. Just know this, Jilani. Nicole wouldn't go looking for evidence to put you away for the underhanded bullshit you pull in the name of journalistic integrity." Anderson leaned over the table. "But she'd do it if I asked. Enjoy your fucking coffee."
When Anderson left, the prevailing feeling in her was not fear, but one of excitement. It seemed she'd stumbled upon quite the interesting drama, indeed.
XXX
"The Broker is pleased, and it seems Nassana Dantius is, as well," Barla Von wheezed, reclining back behind his lavishly decorated desk. He seemed almost sorrowful at the prospect of having to divulge information of his own. "But if I might comment, the hit was a little too professional. Most mob thugs would not think to rappel from one skyscraper to the other. Or jump out of a waste disposal truck. Such distinctive mission profiles may serve to give you away should you ever work for the Broker again."
Nicole shrugged. "We left no evidence behind, we're both very careful about that sort of thing. The most that C-Sec will come away with is a very partial profile of two criminals identifying themselves as 'Red Dragon' and 'Black Dragon.'"
"Fair enough," Barla said, his earlier courtesy apparently drained from him. Nicole had decided not to ask anyone along when she went to collect Barla's information, since she didn't know what it was he'd be saying. Barla stewed in the silence for a moment, surveying her across tented fingers, before he finally acquiesced. "For the past several months rumours have been flying around about some sort of base, where there seem to be an atypical number of krogan. However, the especially unusual thing is that there do not seem to be the appropriate number of krogan arriving at the base. It would appear they are being born."
"I don't see how this relates to Saren," Nicole said bluntly.
"The other part of the rumour is that the base is controlled by Saren. Certainly, his ship has been seen in the system." She could practically feel Barla savouring the moment, coveting this one last secret. She wasn't having much trouble understanding why he'd gone into the information business. "The system is Virmire. A beautiful world, by all accounts, though uninhabited. At least, officially uninhabited. Too close to the Terminus systems, you see, for any real colonization efforts. An ideal location for a secret base."
"I don't suppose you can give me the source of this information?" Nicole asked, already knowing the answer. Barla tapped his fingers on his desk and leaned forward.
"Oh, I can't do something so brazen as that, Spectre. Not yet. When you have earned more credit with the Brokerage, perhaps you might be privy to such information … but no, for now you will have to take me at my word."
"All right. I need to get going."
"Oh? What's the hurry?"
"I have a turian to kill," Nicole said blithely.
"That might prove difficult to do with your ship still in for maintenance," Barla pointed out. "Not to impose, but consider this some free advice … take the chance for some R&R. I deal with mercenary and military types regularly. The ones who have nothing but their work…." Barla shook his head. "Very unpleasant people, I'm afraid. It would be a shame to see you turn into one such as that. Saren was like that, as a matter of point."
"I see. Thank you."
XXX
Liara had joined Ashley, Kaidan, Tali, Garrus, Joker, and Wrex on the Presidium, according to the last message she'd sent. Apparently they were getting ready to go to some club. Flux. The name had somehow taken on a dark significance in her mind, filling her with an indescribable dread. She knew it was stupid. It was a club, that was all—people went there to … do whatever it was people did at clubs. She'd never been inside a club before, not when all the people were there. She somehow couldn't count the time she'd shot Wrex and interrogated Fist. The automated skycar she was in was taking her to the Presidium, and with a jolt in the pit of her stomach she realized it was descending, the ground rising up at her.
When she landed, a lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed, ignored it, and climbed out of the skycar. Her thick jacket and long shirt felt unbearably hot in the artificially warm Citadel weather, but she felt comforted by all the layers of extra protection. Sweat stuck in her hair, making it more difficult, stray strands clinging to her face. She wiped it out of her eyes and reminded herself to get it cut. She'd been distracted lately.
The main Presidium square was crowded, but she saw Liara and the others by a small park bench, one of a hexagon of benches surrounding a large plant that looked kind of like a tree with purple bark streaked through with white veins. Its leaves were a very pale blue. Nicole wasn't sure what planet the tree was from. Tali saw her first and waved exuberantly, grabbing Liara by the wrist. Even from a distance, Nicole could see Liara smiling, offering a much meeker wave than Tali's. Joker, on his crutches, was looking very apprehensive about Tali's enthusiastic bouncing. As Nicole approached, the others nodded or waved in some greeting, but it was Ashley who stepped forward first.
"So? Ma'am?" Nicole hadn't told Ashley the details of her task for the Shadow Broker, but from the look in her eyes the soldier had her suspicions. "What did you learn?"
"Virmire. Saren's on Virmire. When the Normandy is ready to undock tomorrow, we leave immediately." Ashley nodded seriously, but Wrex stomped forward and rubbed his hands together rather menacingly.
"So that leaves us an entire day to find out what kinda drunk you all are. Heh heh heh. Shepard, we're not likely to get attacked in a club," he said in an offhand way, gesturing towards her. She realized he was talking about the combat mesh, and quickly managed a very sickly sort of smile.
"When you consider how we met?" Mercifully, Wrex accepted that as an answer and gave a casual shrug of his massive shoulders.
"Fair enough."
"It's a little early to head to Flux," Ashley was saying, in a very mother hen sort of way. Taking command of the group seemed to be second-nature to her; even if, Nicole thought wryly, she wasn't the ranking officer present. Nicole wasn't really listening to anyone talking; Tali and Joker were saying something. All of her attention was focused on Liara, who was trying to seem like everything was all right. Trying, and failing.
"Yo, Shepard," Joker said, snapping her out of her trance. As far as she could remember, no one had ever addressed her with 'Yo, Shepard' before. She looked to Joker, who jerked his head in a direction over Nicole's shoulder. "It's Anderson. Looks like he's in a bit of a hurry, too."
Nicole whipped around to see Anderson all but marching towards her, nearly knocking a poor salarian out of his way in his haste. Nicole tried to hide her surprise: it was very unlike Anderson to be so dismissive of the people around him. When he caught up with them, he immediately said, "At ease." Belatedly, she realized Kaidan and Ashley had been standing at attention … as she should have been. But quick as that Anderson had beckoned to her to follow him away in private. He took her over to an alleyway between two embassy buildings, which was as close as they could get to private on the Citadel.
"Sir, what's—"
"Cut the 'sir' crap, Nicole," Anderson said, automatically. Nicole's normally blank face was betraying her concern. She had almost never seen Anderson so out of sorts—not since she had first told him that Saren had been the one to kill Nihlus.
"Okay, Anderson. What's going on?" She asked. "Are you all right?"
"No. No, I guess I'm not. Well, I'm fine, I just …." Anderson shook his head grimly and looked over his shoulder, displaying a bit of low-key paranoia that was almost charming. This was the Citadel—no doubt someone, somewhere was listening to what they were saying. "It's about that interview with Al-Jilani."
"It's fine. Really. She was going to get the facts sooner or later, so I just—"
"You just put the Alliance's bullshit off as your own," Anderson said bluntly. Nicole was taken aback; she'd never heard him speak about the Alliance that way before. "Nicole, you didn't have to do that."
"I didn't see why I shouldn't," she shrugged. Anderson shook his head, just slightly, and had affixed her with a very strange stare. He looked almost sad. Slowly, very slowly—with Nicole deeply appreciating how well he knew her—he laid one hand on her shoulder.
"There are those of us who care about you, Nicole. And what you do with your life. You don't need that dragging you down. You deserve better."
"Anderson, I … thank you."
"If you're really that grateful," Anderson started, "Then maybe you could tell Al-Jilani 'no comment' next time." Nicole allowed herself the slightest grin as they started walking back towards the others.
"I'll think about it."
Anderson shook his head, but he mostly just seemed amused.
"God, you really have grown up," Anderson said, surprising her. A very fond smile was on his face, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Sorry. Just, sometimes, I can't help but remember the Nicole Shepard I knew as a kid. You weren't quite so tall back then."
"Yeah…." Nicole murmured. She knew Anderson had meant nothing by it, but she tried to avoid thinking about her childhood. But the only good, truly good thing in her childhood had been Anderson, and Chakwas. Even the memory of her brother felt corrupted now, having heard his name uttered by Gabreau. For Anderson, she could do better. "I'll try and be more careful around the reporters, Anderson. For your sake, at least."
"I appreciate it, Nicole." Anderson sounded like he wasn't quite finished, but was trying to restrain himself. She figured he thought of that as about as much of a victory as he was going to get. "I suppose I'll get out of your hair. Let you spend some quality time with your crew. And, uh, I hope I'm not intruding, but … maybe a little extra quality time with Dr. T'Soni?" Anderson asked, his eyebrows rising. Nicole felt her cheeks burning again and silently cursed at how often that was happening, lately. "Don't sweat it. You'll do fine. Girls go nuts for the big, tough marine types." Nicole raised an eyebrow of her own. "Girls like her, I mean. Scientists, academic types—oh come on, I'm not being sexist!"
"I know, Anderson, I was just messing with you," Nicole said. He stared at her, then laughed.
"All right. I'll go and spend the rest of the afternoon removing my foot from my mouth. Just try and remember," he said, obviously trying not to sound too serious, "That I'm always gonna be here for you. You only need to say the word."
Nicole stopped walking and looked at him, knowing how strange she looked. Knowing how incapable she was of expressing emotions, of expressing the right ones. She looked at Anderson and saw everything good that had ever happened to her. He had gotten her out. She wished she could express how much he had done for her. How grateful she was.
Then, summoning reserves of self-control she didn't know she had, she hugged him. She didn't care that they were in a crowd. Once, long ago, she'd realized that all the people in the crowd didn't care about anyone else in it. But the years of training in the Alliance, the years of being the freak with the facial scars, the one who had lost her unit, the one without a past … she hadn't been able to handle that. But Anderson had never cared. Anderson knew everything about her and still, somehow, he had helped her. He had saved her.
Once he got over his surprise, Anderson hugged her back, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Before she let go, Nicole took the opportunity to whisper,
"Thank you."
Anderson's smile was back—that calm, collected, reassuring smile that somehow made it seem as though everything was going to be all right.
"You don't have to thank me for a single thing."
XXX
The club was very crowded, which in retrospect shouldn't have been nearly as surprising to Nicole as it was. But it wasn't just the people, the hundreds of people, pressed so tightly together that they might have been sardines. It was that it was all in darkness, with flashing neon lights so bright they made Nicole's head spin. It was the music, some roaring pounding grinding over synthetic melodies that all combined to overwhelm her senses. Ashley, Tali, Wrex, and even Garrus had seemed comfortable enough here—though Garrus wasn't exactly the most skilled dancer Nicole had ever seen. But she, Liara, and Kaidan had almost immediately attached themselves to the bar, eyeing the rest of the proceedings with mounting unease. Joker had joined them, but not out of the same reservations.
"Goddamn legs!" Joker yelled over the music. "This is a really good beat, too … Nicole, Liara, you gonna get anything to drink?"
"What?" Liara asked, her voice completely drowned out by the music. Joker formed a cone around his mouth with his hands and shouted,
"ARE YOU GOING. TO GET—oh, nevermind," He muttered. Nicole could hear him. She could hear everything in the club—it was starting to drive her crazy. Kaidan was slowly making his way through a vodka martini, and though he didn't look entirely in his element, he was watching the others dancing with much more interest than Nicole or Liara. Nicole could tell that Liara was trying not to seem too put out, but her eyes weren't really looking out into the club. This wasn't what she needed. But what could she do, just … walk out on their friends? Nicole tried to ignore the prickling feeling in her skin. She was too close to too many people. Three times now she'd seen someone brush someone else out of the way to get to the bar. If they did that to her….
"Hey, Commander." It was Kaidan, not quite shouting like Joker but somehow making himself heard. "Clubs like this aren't exactly your kind of thing, are they?" Kaidan's face showed nothing but quiet, unobtrusive concern. Nicole felt another stab of guilt; of all the crew she'd neglected, she knew she had avoided him the most. He deserved better than that.
"What was your first clue?" She replied, trying to sound conversational instead of shell-shocked. As if on cue, someone's elbow bumped into her back—Nicole went stiff, and nearly spun around to defend herself, but managed to stop half way so that it looked like she was spasming very violently. Luckily, no one noticed. Except Kaidan.
"You know, no one will mind if you leave. I have to sometimes—the headaches." Kaidan tapped his temple and gave a sort of pained half-smile. "There are a lot of quieter bars on the Citadel that might suit you better. I find they can be a lot more relaxing."
Nicole didn't know quite what to say. She had just been hoping to get through the night without freaking out and punching anyone who happened to brush too close to her. Suddenly it struck her this was the last chance she might have to do something with Liara before they found Saren. And they were wasting it both pretending not to be uncomfortable. "Kaidan … thank you."
"Hey, don't mention it," Kaidan shrugged, returning to his drink. "Not everyone can have fun the same way. Nothing wrong with that."
Nicole felt like she should say something, but her words kept getting stuck in her throat. This entire place was digging into her, ringing in her skull, making it hard to think. She nodded, and then turned to Liara—who, without genetically enhanced hearing, had missed most of Nicole's conversation with Kaidan.
"Wanna go?" Nicole asked, jerking her head in the general direction of the exit. Liara pursed her lips, then nodded. Nicole tried to smile, and took Liara's hand. It was amazing how automatic that gesture was becoming, even if she was still wearing her combat mesh. She had to remind herself to be calm, but in the midst of all these strange people, the feeling of Liara's hand in hers was almost … reassuring. That didn't make getting out through the crowd any easier, though. Nicole had to press her way through the teeming mass of bodies, clenching her teeth and forcing herself to push through.
They were nearly at the exit when someone bumped into Nicole's shoulder so suddenly that on sheer reflex Nicole shoved back, sending them sprawling into several outraged dancers. Nicole had subconsciously pulled Liara close to her side, one hand now wrapped around her waist like a vice. She was glaring at the young girl—an asari—she had knocked to the floor with eyes that threatened murder before she fully realized what happened. Nicole tried to stammer out an apology as the girl effortlessly got to her feet and looked Nicole over appraisingly.
"That was rude," the girl said bluntly. Her fringe had been coloured a bright gold in elaborate patterns, which was extremely distracting. So too was the fact that her clothing was comprised solely of a very limited amount of black latex.
"Sorry," Nicole managed to say, very stiffly. The girl was still looking at her, her eyes first passing over Nicole, then Liara. Nicole only just then realized she was still clasping Liara to her waist, so she let go, her feeling of intense embarrassment amplifying as heat rose in the back of her neck. Though it startled her a bit, Nicole was relieved when Liara's hand found hers again.
"You're a little rough around the edges, aren't you?" The girl asked, with a predatory smile. She looked at Liara and asked, "Girlfriend?"
Nicole's wide-eyed stammering apparently failed to suffice as an answer. The asari's grin widened as she looked between the two of them.
"She's spoken for, if that is what you mean," Liara said, somewhat quietly. Nicole found her ability to speak was rapidly diminishing as this conversation bore on, and the uncomfortable heat in the back of her neck had spread to her ears and cheeks.
"Fair enough," the asari sighed, sounding more than a little disappointed. When it was obvious that Nicole was still too shocked to be of much use, Liara led her out of the club. It wasn't until they were back into the main Presidium before Nicole could even find her voice.
"Sorry about that."
"Do not mention it," Liara murmured. "I did not much enjoy Flux, either. It was very … loud."
Nicole managed to grin. "Agreed."
"And I do not personally approve of all the clientele," Liara said forcefully. "I hope I was not presuming."
"What? Oh, no. No, definitely not." It seemed Nicole hadn't entirely regained her faculties of speech. Still somewhat red-faced, Nicole barely realized they were walking down the long, wide path of the Presidium It was late, now, and the stars were visible above the Citadel, glimmering brightly in the blackness of space. Nicole had always liked looking at the stars. It was nicer now, that there were much fewer people walking about the Presidium at night.
Nicole had gathered enough of her senses, though, to realize that Liara was distracted by something more than a scantily-clad asari making a minor scene in a club. There was a park bench beneath one of the alien trees Nicole had noticed earlier. She guided Liara towards it and sat down, using the time to think of something to say. She found without the slightest surprise that she wasn't very good at this sort of thing.
"Liara … you're not all right." Nicole winced. That hadn't been the right thing to say at all. "Do you—would you like to talk?"
"No, I know those things are hard for you, you do not have to—"
"Well, I'm making the effort already, so you might as well take me up on it, right?" Nicole said, managing to almost sound natural. Liara shot her a sidelong glance, the faintest smile at the corner of her lips. "The fact that I'm bad at this doesn't mean that I'm not at least going to try."
"It's just … ever since the Caretaker, I keep thinking about my mother. Then yesterday, I was speaking with all her people and it somehow made it real. She's gone." Liara was staring at her hands in her lap. "There is so much I should have said, so much I could have said so easily, and now … now I will never have that chance." Her eyes were watering, tears slipping down her face in perfect lines. Little drops fell into the palms of her hands. "I miss her, Nicole. I miss her so much."
Suddenly, without her usual careful overtures, Liara turned to Nicole and hugged her, burying her face in Nicole's hair. Nicole didn't even go stiff, just embraced her back, gently squeezing one shoulder. Surreptitiously, she looked around them; no one was watching. No one she could see, at least. She could hear Liara's muffled sobs, heard how hard she was trying not to be overcome by despair.
Nicole kept trying to think of what to say. There were probably a dozen very clever, comforting things she could have said, but none of them came to her. So she held Liara, and didn't let go, and stayed with her even when she felt her own discomfort rising, even when the dam broke and Liara's crying turned into quiet, gasping sobs. Nicole had cried like that twice before. First when she had been hiding beneath a prefabricated home during the batarian attack on Mindoir, never knowing if her brother had survived. The second time when Delilah Vargas and all the members of her unit had been eaten by thresher maws. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. There was nothing useful she could say. She just had to be there—to let Liara know there was a world to come back to. So that she'd know that there might be something left in it, even after all this.
Liara clung to her in the darkness, and hours passed. Once or twice Nicole noticed someone walking by, but they just moved on. She always stiffened when they approached, but thankfully Liara didn't notice. She couldn't bear to let her own neuroticism take control.
"What time is it?" Liara said, long after she had stopped crying. When she finally emerged from Nicole's shoulder her make-up was smeared, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Now her expression was almost numb.
"It's about two in the morning," Nicole said, finding gentleness in her voice that she hadn't thought she was capable of. "Want me to take you back to the hotel?"
"Okay."
They left without saying anything, Liara's hand grasping onto Nicole's, as though she were clinging to an anchor. The hotel desk clerk didn't look even a little surprised that they were returning so late, though Nicole felt their prying eyes on Liara, wondering what had happened. That was just natural curiosity, of course, which didn't in the least dissuade Nicole from shooting the clerk with a look that would have sent a full-grown krogan screaming for their mother.
"Are you going to be okay?" Nicole asked, when they arrived at the door to Liara's room. Liara looked tired, and drained. Nicole knew that feeling, too. When you really felt the horror of what had happened to you—when you really processed the loss—it was too much for any one person to handle. It wore you out. Left you empty, for a while.
"I think so. Thank you."
"Get some rest," Nicole said softly, opening the door. Liara, clearly too exhausted to say anything, just nodded and retreated into her room. Nicole closed the door behind her, leaving it open a crack until she head the soft thump of Liara falling back onto her bed. Then she returned to her own room.
It was impossible not to remember the terrible things that had happened to her, no matter how much she told herself not to make Liara's suffering about herself. She remembered trembling in that prefabricated home, her knees hugged to her chest, the pistol she'd stolen clutched so tightly in one fist that her fingers hurt. The worst of it had been that though, one some level, she knew her brother couldn't have survived, she couldn't resist hoping he was somehow out there. But then, when the Alliance had come for her, she had seen the body. And then...
Gabreau had sent for her. Gabreau had used Nicole's period of weakness, had used the time when she had been so hollowed by grief that barely any of her old self was left. Nicole found she could barely remember what she had been like, as a child. Had she been friendly? Rude? What had her hobbies been? Very vaguely she recollected playing football with some other children, and digging up fake Prothean artifacts with her brother in their backyard. She remembered doctors, and tests … but no, that had to be after Shadowhill. It had all become jumbled up in her head so that she could barely remember any of it.
She couldn't even remember her brother's face.
She hadn't been able to think about any of this before. It had been too much for her, even all these years later, even after she had armoured herself in cold competence and killer instinct. Even after she was tall and strong and proficient with a dozen deadly weapons, she couldn't confront her own memories. But now it didn't seem so hard.
Now, for the first time in her life, there was a small part of her that existed outside of herself. The part that had enabled her to hold onto Liara as she cried. The part of her that felt really, truly human, for the first time in a long, long time.
XXX
The next day she got up early to report in to the Council. She'd decided to leave this meeting for the last day of their stay on the Citadel, both because now she would have something tangible to report, and also because she was less than ecstatic about the prospect of appearing before them. Like all political types they spoke a language both foreign and utterly boring to her.
She had expected to have to wait, but when she announced herself at the Embassy she was instructed to head directly to the Council chambers. She supposed they were nearly as eager to have the business with Saren resolved as Nicole was. For a long time Nicole had just thought of Saren as another assignment—a monster, and a remarkably dangerous one, but just a monster to be put down. Now, knowing that he had manipulated Liara's mother, and led her to her death … now she had a very personal reason to want him dead.
When she met the Council, early in the morning, they didn't seem quite as composed as normal. Perhaps that was just the hour of the day. Whatever the cause, only Valern, the salarian, maintained his usual strict, slightly holier-than-thou demeanour, and it was he who spoke first.
"Welcome back to the Citadel, Spectre. We trust your stay here is only temporary?"
"The Normandy leaves this morning, for Virmire. I have information that Saren may have a base there." This elicited a spark of curiosity in Sparatus's eyes, and Tevos seemed to waken slightly. The turian Councilor leaned forward to speak.
"We have recently intercepted what may be a garbled distress signal from Virmire. A salarian STG team was stationed there not too long ago."
"Then I will attempt to assist them as best I can, while carrying out my own mission."
"Naturally," Sparatus replied, though Valern seemed distinctly rankled.
"Though you must of course prioritize your mission, we would greatly appreciate it if you managed to extract the STG agents on-site. They are very valuable assets."
"I will do my best," Nicole said, in a tone which promised that her 'best' would suffice. That seemed to satisfy Valern. "I trust you do not wish to enquire as to my methods?"
Tevos nodded sagely. "Indeed. The less we know, the better."
"Good. Then if that's all, I'll be on my way."
"There was one more thing," Sparatus said suddenly, his voice unusually reserved. Normally, the turian was a little quick on his talons, as an old turian saying went. "You were looking through the Spectre archives on Dr. Saleon. Knowing of the good doctor's history with one of your comrades, I took a personal interest. Many of Saleon's victims were turian," Sparatus said. Of course they were. Sparatus wouldn't have given half a shit about some criminal just because one of Nicole's 'comrades' was hunting him down. "His ship was recently spotted. I've forwarded the co-ordinates to your file, in good faith. I was hoping we might have a chance to talk, actually." Nicole's eyebrows rose. Whatever she was expecting, that certainly wasn't it. She nodded, and the other Councillors waved them on. Sparatus stepped away from the Councillors' podium and walked with her, towards another hallway. Nicole acknowledged that this was the turian wing of the Citadel Embassy; and it appeared to have been cleared for their use.
"I wasn't aware most of Saleon's victims were turian," Nicole said cautiously. It seemed like the thing to say.
"That's because they weren't. I had to come up with something so that Valern and Tevos wouldn't inquire too much. Valern has a mind like a trap and Tevos smells intrigue so often she's forgotten what flowers smell like." Sparatus pushed open a door to an office and beckoned Nicole inside. "I have not approved of all of your methods, Commander, but I can say that I—and the other Council members—am impressed with your efficacy. If other human Spectres will be up to your calibre many more may follow."
Nicole blinked in surprise, and said only, "Thank you."
"Don't bother thanking me. Gratitude is unprofessional," the turian said dismissively. "I have seen what limited video data there has been left of your exploits, and I noticed something. Your weapon."
"My rifle?"
"No, not that one." Sparatus shook his head, as though he were dismissing an irksome fly. "The dagger. The Talon you carry. It belonged to Rameus Talinor." This was not a question. "What was your relation to him?"
"Why do you ask?" Nicole said, her voice guarded. The Councillor's tone had taken on a much greater sense of urgency than she was used to.
"Colonel Talinor was a war hero, Shepard. And more than that he 'disappeared' under very suspicious circumstances, shortly after famously retiring from military life. So I think you know exactly why I ask."
"You know about Shadowhill," Nicole said. Sparatus nodded; he'd said as much before. "They captured him. Tortured him. They forced me to … hurt him. But I tried to save his life."
"I find that a little too romantic to believe."
Nicole shrugged, trying to sound casual even as her heart was pounding. The mere mention of Talon's name—his real name—brought back old, haunting memories. "Believe me or not. He is dead now, though. I shot him. They were going to torture him, for helping me escape."
"I see. And of course, the Thaknate wouldn't have divulged any of this when you told her … I am assuming that is when you acquired Commander Talinor's Talon?"
"Yes," Nicole said, through clenched teeth. She could understand Sparatus's insistence, but that didn't mean she had to like it.
"It is rare to see a human who possesses a turian sense of honour. If you don't mind me saying, I suspect this is one of the traits which gives you such persuasive power over your followers."
"Pardon me?" Nicole replied, actually laughing. Sparatus did not seem amused.
"You do not see it? Allow me to explain. I have monitored your progress, as all the Council monitors the progress of all the Spectres. You have cultivated a close relationship with several members of your Alliance crew as well as many others. The krogan battlemaster, Wrex. Garrus Vakarian, a C-Sec operative whose name crossed my desk for Spectre consideration more than once. The quarian Tali—were you aware she is the daughter of a General? And now Ms. T'soni, a celebrated archaeologist, recent millionaire and, though this is known only to a few, exceptionally powerful biotic. You have a relatively rare gift among Spectres. Most of you prefer to work alone."
"I'm not hearing a point."
"My point, Shepard, is that you should wear that dagger with honour." Sparatus looked directly in her eyes. "It is all that is left of him." A suspicion that had been clawing at the edge of Nicole's thoughts suddenly clicked into place.
"You knew him."
"He was my sister's ex-husband. She died—gunned down in battle. They never had children, but he was like … a brother to me. I have long wondered what became of his Talon. I had thought it had been taken as the prize of some two-bit mercenary. Rameus and I disagreed on a great many things, but he was a good man. And my sister loved him. That dagger is one of the few things left of him. Don't let it go to waste."
"Councillor," Nicole said, with a respect for that title she had never displayed before, "I promise you I never will."