A/N: Tablet died. Most of my work was saved, but I lost my in-progress documents, which included a great deal for this chapter. Grumble grumble.


"Holy... no disrespect intended, T'Soni, but you look like something the cat dragged in," Ashley said with a wince when Liara walked into the mess hall the next morning.

Liara blinked, still half asleep. "Something the... what?" she mumbled.

"It's a human expression," Kaidan explained, giving the backside of Ashley's head a mostly gentle smack. "Cats are small animals often kept as pets or for the extermination of vermin. They're known for playing with their prey pretty extensively before killing it and bringing it home, hence the phrase."

"Ah." Liara said. If the galaxy is a... cat... then the comparison is apt, indeed, she thought with a small sigh. She certainly felt like she'd been battered and dragged around.

"Seriously, though, Doc, are you okay?" Ashley asked.

Liara forced a smile, hoping it looked better than it felt. "I am afraid I did not sleep particularly well," she said, wishing Ashley would leave it alone. She did not mind the sympathy, but the fact that nobody else had apparently had difficulty sleeping after the events of the previous day only served to remind her how much of an outsider she was in this place.

"Oh, shit, that was your first big combat mission, wasn't it?" Ash asked, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

"Unless you consider leaving the dig site on Therum as one, yes, it was," Liara replied, steeling herself.

"Damn, that's rough," Ash said, shaking her head. "Talk about getting thrown into the deep end."

Liara wasn't familiar with that particular turn of phrase either, but the context was clear enough.

"You know," Kaidan said slowly, "you may want to speak with Chakwas if you haven't already."

Ash glanced at the lieutenant. "Pff, Liara's tough, she can handle it."

Kaidan rolled his eyes. "That mentality is why we still have people coming down with PTSD, Ash. It's not a matter of being tough; it's simple brain chemistry."

"Yeah, yeah," Ash grumbled.

"Anyway, Liara, Chakwas is good with battlefield medicine... and I mean all battlefield medicine. Not all the injuries you get can be patched up with medi-gel."

Liara nodded slowly. It hadn't been the reaction she'd expected, but then... what had been? The people here aboard the Normandy were so far removed from her world, all she had to go on were vague assumptions... assumptions that had failed her in nearly every capacity so far.

"I may heed your advice," she said. "By the way, do you know where she is? She was not in her office when I woke this morning."

"The doc?" Ash asked, and Liara nodded. "I think she's still in the bathroom helping Shepard," she said, frowning slightly.

"Helping the Commander?" Liara asked, confused. "Is something wrong?"

Kaidan shook his head. "No, no, nothing's wrong. Chakwas is the best hand with cosmetics on board, so she's helping Shepard out."

"It's just a talk with some suits, not a formal ball," Ash grumbled. "I don't get what all the fuss is about, really. Soldiers are soldiers. We're there to shoot things, not look pretty."

"Image matters, Ash," Kaidan scolded. "Especially in politics, and the people she's going to talk to are important enough for any conversation with them to qualify as politics."

Ash muttered something that Liara's translator didn't quite catch.

"It's not like that-" Kaidan began before the hiss of the washroom door interrupted him. "Oh, hey, I think they're- whoa."

Liara turned and barely managed to keep her jaw from hitting the deck.

It was difficult, at times, for Liara to separate her own appreciation for the commander from what another human or even another asari might see in her. To her, she was always strong and beautiful and dangerous, but others might not see her that way. She was short, even by human standards, almost frighteningly skinny, and she moved with the stride and form of a soldier instead of a socialite.

But today, she had no doubts.

Shepeard had shed her utilitarian pocketed jumpsuit for a closely-tailored civilian suit, albeit one with a matching pistol holster and discreet shield generator. Her hair, normally a messy mop of red, had been carefully combed and styled back to give her an distinctly predatory profile. Chakwas had also taken pains with her cosmetics, as the eyeliner and shadow she wore helped transform her gaze – piercing enough on its own – into full on armor penetrating.

And I thought she was stunning before, Liara thought, half in a daze.

"I will take your shocked silence as a good sign, I suppose," Shepard said, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Doctor Chakwas, I believe your test audience approves."

Stepping out from behind her, Chakwas nodded primly. "As well they should. You're quite the sight, if I may say so myself."

"I'll take your word for it," Shepard said over her shoulder, then reached out her hand to snap her fingers in front of the trio at the table. "Anybody home?"

Ash blinked, then elbowed Kaidan in the ribs. "Sorry, ma'am," she said. "Meant no disrespect. You just surprised, well..." she looked at Kaidan, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his head and Liara, who had turned a remarkable shade of purple while chewing on a knuckle on her fist. "I guess you surprised all of us. Chakwas, I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me out next time we get some shore leave...?"

Chakwas let out a long-suffering sigh. "And that, Williams, is why I do not advertise this particular talent. I'll make you a deal: If I teach you, you get to teach the rest of the crew when they inevitably ask."

Ash grinned. "Yes, ma'am!"

Shepard cleared her throat. "I think we've proved well enough that Chakwas is good at her job," she said. "I believe I have a call to make."


As a Spectre, Shepard had priority access to nearly every communications channel in Citadel space, and several ones outside of it. It didn't matter why she needed to talk to somebody; if she waved her credentials somebody else would get bumped off so she could chat. In theory, this meant that she could park next to a FTL communications buoy and be talking to ExoGeni's board of executives within minutes. In practice, the availability of a communications channel did not necessarily mean that the person on the other end of the line would be around to answer.

Which was why she'd arranged for the ship's computer to send a high priority request for a consultation regarding the events and operations on Feros around three in the morning by Citadel time... to both the executives and the board of directors.

Politics were an interesting game. The most effective players in it were the ones with no stake in any particular outcome and no ego, but the people who held political power were likely to have very high stakes and massive egos. That inherent conflict inevitably led to scandal, backroom deals, and the profound differences between public perception and reality. It worked in her favor much of the time, as incongruities between her public persona and personal behavior weren't just accepted; they were expected.

On the other hand, it was an entirely separate set of social rules she had to remember. Some things – like disclosing personal preferences or interests – that were perfectly acceptable among the soldiers she normally associated were considered the deepest form of betrayal in the political arena, with consequences that could last for years or even decades.

In her normal circle of associates, nobody would have looked twice at the time a message arrived. There was little reason to; most written messages weren't high priority. In the world of corporate politics, the timing of the message was important. By sending it to arrive in the wee hours, she was telling them she wanted them to be frightened and unprepared. By sending it at all, she was telling them that not all hope was lost and that they might be able to make some kind of deal.

The more confused about her motivations and plans were, the better, as far as she was concerned. She wanted, no, needed them to be off balance for this meeting. She was quicker on her feet than the average grunt, to be sure, but her formal schooling was woefully lacking and the board of executives of a publicly traded company was unlikely to be filled with idiots.

Luckily, I'm the one holding all the cards this time around, and they know it. Or they soon will.

"Alright, Joker," she said, glancing up at the ceiling, "go ahead and warm our end of the link up, but don't activate until I give the say so."

"Aye aye, ma'am," Joker's voice echoed through the room. "Setting link up and standing by."

Nodding, she turned to the crew members that had taken her up on the offer to watch the meeting proceedings. Liara was there, as were Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan. Ashley had declined, saying something about politics making her skin itch, and Wrex was still passed out when the time for the call came up and nobody was interested in waking the sleeping krogan.

She was glad that Ashley had opted not to watch. It was going to be concerning enough to have Tali in the audience; having two people that might take the blackmail she was about to unload the wrong way would be more risk than she could justify. At least the quarian seemed to be able to stay quiet in stressful situations.

"A word of warning," she said to her crew, "This isn't likely to be polite... and it's probably going to be downright mean. Please keep quiet. You can voice your concerns, if you have any, after the call is over. Don't interrupt during it; they're expecting a private conversation."

She smiled thinly. "I never said it would be, of course. But that's what they're expecting, and I haven't disabused them of the notion."

Liara's lips twitched into the barest hint of the smile. It was the exact same maneuver Shepard had pulled on the asari, and she knew firsthand exactly how effective lies of omission could be.

"Understood, ma'am," Kaidan nodded from his seat. "I think we can manage."

"Good," she said, then keyed the commlink to the bridge again. "We're ready, Joker."

The wall at the back of the briefing room shimmered, pale blue of the holding screen dissolving into the warm hues of a lavishly furnished boardroom illuminated by the false dawn of the Citadel lighting system.

She recognized the chief executive officer, the chief operating officer, and the chief financial officer as well as six of the seven members of the board of directors. There were also several other men and women in suits, who she assumed were lawyers, standing around the edge of the room holding data slates and cups of coffee.

She'd done rather well for midnight blackmail, all things considered.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," she said, clasping her hands behind her back and squaring her shoulders slightly. "Thank you for meeting with me on short notice."

The CEO, a man named Alexander Jeshmin, smiled wryly at her from the head of the table. "We're fortunate that you agreed to speak with us before submitting your, ah, report," he said. "There are several issues we wish to address before you present this to the Council."

Do they really think I'm here to get their version of the story? Fools. "I imagine so," she said. "That's what this call is for, after all. I trust that you are all up to date on the work at Zhu's Hope?"

"Commander, our relief vessels are just arriving on Feros as we speak," a heavyset bearded man – Calvin Oakley, the chief of operations – on the CEO's right said. "We've only received the most fragmented reports from members of the colony and research team. We'll work as quickly as we can, but we won't have anything remotely resembling a complete picture of the situation for days at-"

Shepard scowled. "Excuse me, mister Oakley, but I did not ask if you were aware of the events of my visit. Clearly that's impossible. I asked if you were up to date on the projects being undertaken there."

The man's lips tightened. The question put him in something of a bind, she knew. If he admitted that he knew about the projects there, then he had just admitted to being involved in several very serious violations of Citadel law. If he said he wasn't aware, then he admitted that he was incompetent before the entire board... who might not have been briefed on the plan. It wasn't a pleasant place to be, and she had forced his hand.

Of course, there is always the chance that he doesn't actually know... but somehow, I doubt he's that clueless.

"I know the general overview, of course," he said, flicking an imaginary piece of dust off his sleeve. "If you want the specifics of the projects, you will need to consult with the chief researcher on-"

"I'm going to stop you there, sir," Shepard interrupted, holding up a hand, "before you dig yourself too deep."

"I beg your pard-"

Shepard let the smile fall from her face and leaned forward on the table. "You seem to be under the impression that you have the chance to prove your innocence to me. This is notthe case."

A button tap on the control panel at the edge of the table brought up one of the several data files she'd prepared for the session. "This is a data dump of the commlink of Ethan Jeong, shortly after his regrettable death during our rescue of the civilians of Zhu's Hope. Among other things, it includes several calls with people in this room about both the geth and species 37."

She waved the scrolling index of files off to the side and brought up a new list, noting with satisfaction the sudden lack of color in their faces. "This is a research archive that we extracted from a terminal while inside the facility disabling several geth dropships. It corroborates the information in the first archive, and makes reference to several other facilities off-planet."

Another wave of her hand shoved that scrolling list to the side. "This final document is the sworn testimony of one Elizabeth Baynham about her work on Zhu's Hope and the Thorian, as well as communications logs of her attempts to contact Colonial Affairs regarding the nature of the colony and the projects being undertaken there."

She slid those documents to the side as well and settled back from the table, folding her arms across her chest. "Now, mister Oakley, what was it you wished to tell me?"

The man swallowed and glanced furtively at the CEO, who sighed.

"Alright, Commander," Jeshmin said, "what is it that you want? You and I both know there's enough here to send half of this room to krogan prison, and you don't strike me as the gloating type... which means you're after something. What is it? Money? Research information? Favors?"

Shepard smiled. It was so nice when people could read the writing on the wall. "I have a list, actually," she said, clearing the documents from the view.

Jeshmin wove his fingers together. "Let's hear it, then."

"First: ExoGeni will recognize the tragedy of the geth attack provide both immediate and ongoing support for the colony."

"Already done," Jeshmin said. "We're not heartless, Commander."

"I said 'ongoing', master Jeshmin," Shepard reminded him. "That means ExoGeni backs them until they're fully self-sufficient, not just until the colony drops out of the public eye."

"Expensive, but not entirely unforeseen," he said with a glance at his financial officer. "Fine."

"For what it's worth, my staff archaeologist says there's quite a trove in the ruins. Properly managed, I don't think you'll be hurting too badly."

"I'm sure there is," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "What else?"

"Second," she said, "You will set up a research group, staffed by people not related to the original project, to analyze the remains of the Thorian. You will invite at least one predominately nonhuman corporation as an equal partner in this project."

"I'm sorry, what?" the chief financial officer sputtered. "You want us to repeat all the work, and then give it away? I thought you were humanity's Spectre, not a Council bi-"

"Will!" Jeshmin barked, hushing his CFO with a sharp jerk of his hand. "My apologies, Commander, but I have to agree – it is an odd request," he said.

"Hardly," Shepard said. "I am a Spectre, which means I have obligations to the Council. I am also human, and have a rather vested interested in the galaxy being a welcoming place for me. Tell me, if news of what you did on Feros got out to the public, do you think the galactic perception of humanity would improve?"

"Fuck the galactic community!" Will Banthard said, shifting out from behind Jeshmin's hand. "It's humanity's job to look after human interests."

"And that is precisely what I am doing," Shepard said, glaring at him. "I don't know if you're a student of history, mister Banthard, but we lost the first contact war. We are outnumbered by over a hundred to one by other far better armed species, and we would lose a stand up fight with any of the Council races. If humanity tries to establish a place for itself in the galaxy by trampling over the other members of the galactic community, we will end up like the other stubborn independent race that tried – or are the batarians your idea of a role model?"

"I-"

"Whether you like it or not, humanity is not in a position to ignore the galactic community and the Council. The best – the only – way forward for us to ensure our safety is to make ourselves crucial to too many people to go to war with. How many nations in Earth's history survived after going to war against the people that built their factories, ran their banks, and helped their defense? How many nations have attempted to?" She shook her head. "Your company broke Council law, broke Systems Alliance law, committed a slew of ethical violations, and then tried to cover it all up. I will fulfill my obligation to the Council by stopping you from doing it again. I will fulfill my obligation to humanity's future by making decisions that you seem unable to make wisely. I will fulfill my obligation to the people of Zhu's Hope by ensuring that their future is provided for."

The expressions on the faces in the meeting ran the gamut, she thought. The CFO seethed in his chair, clearly not pleased with the whole situation. Oakley's face was carefully blank, and Jeshmin seemed surprisingly thoughtful.

Most of the others just looked scared.

"The third and last thing on my list," she said into the growing silence, "is some housekeeping. You will forward to me all your research data on the Thorian so far, as well as details on all satellite facilities involved in the project. You will then delete all your local copies of said data."

Oakley frowned. "What are you going to do with it?"

"The data? Archive it somewhere secure. The satellite facilities will be shut down and the researchers moved into witness protection," Shepard said. "Does that satisfy all of you?"

"It's not like we have much of a choice, but... yes," Jeshmin said, and there was a scattering of nods around the room.

"Good," Shepard said. "Now, for my side of all of this. I will arrange things on my end so that Ethan Jeong takes the fall for the worst of what happened on Zhu's Hope. He is conveniently not present to contest our version of events, and was rather disliked by everyone I spoke to, so I don't anticipate any major problems there. I will also make sure that no official pressure comes as a result of my reports, but that does not render you immune to the consequences of leaks from your end. I am not offering you protection or immunity from the consequences of your own stupidity; merely an unofficial stay of execution. Understood?"

"Perfectly," Jeshmin said.

"Then unless you have any questions, we're done here. I've left you my direct commcode; you may leave me secure messages there."

"Thank you, Commander," Jeshmin said, and Shepard was surprised to think he actually meant it. Well, you ARE saving him from spending most of the rest of his life in prison, so...

She inclined her head in return, then cut the link.


"Holy shit, Commander," Kaidan said, shaking his head.

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Something wrong, lieutenant?"

"No, ma'am. I mean, it's just..." he shook his head again. "If you weren't a Spectre, that would have been so illegal I don't even know where to start. You don't do things be halves!"

She shrugged. "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing properly."

"Is this really justice, though?" Tali asked, her head slightly downcast. "All those colonists who died... are we really going to just let the people responsible get away with it?"

"They're not really getting away with it," Shepard pointed out. "We're stopping them from doing it again, and we're getting them to offer reparations for what they've done. Isn't that the point of rehabilitation?"

Tali's head angled down to the floor. "Maybe it makes me a bad person, but... there's a part of me that really wants to see them suffer for what they did."

Shepard sighed. She'd been afraid of something like this happening. "If I break our deal and get them arrested, not only will it be harder to do this kind of stunt in the future, but it will also seriously hurt our chances of getting support for the survivors at Zhu's Hope."

Tali clenched a fist, then let it go with visible effort. "I know, I just... it doesn't feel right."

"For what it's worth," Shepard said, "high stakes politics rarely feels right."

"You've done this before?" Tali asked, and Shepard nodded.

"Twice, although I was on the losing side both times," she said, watching Liara's eyes go wide as she realized what times Shepard was talking about. "But it turned out well enough in the end. Speaking of which, I need to make my report to the Council. You're welcome to stay for that, but I warn you – it may be boring."

"I'll stay," Tali said quickly. "Quarians don't often get to see this kind of thing."

"As will I," Liara said.

Kaidan stretched. "I'm good for now, I think," he said. "I've been through enough debriefings, and I have some work to do on our gear after Zhu's Hope that won't get any easier later."

"Going to try to get some of the slime out?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah. Ash said she thinks she has a solvent that will do the trick. I've tried everything in my usual kit, and that's saying something."

"Well, so long as you don't accidentally melt our gear, it's worth a shot."

Kaidan laughed. "I'll try to avoid it, ma'am."

"See that you do. Joker, can you file my report the Citadel council? I imagine they're getting rather testy."

Joker's voice crackled to life in the room once again. "Uh, can do, Commander, but..."

Shepard nearly rolled her eyes. "I can hardly offer ExoGeni protection from investigation if the Council doesn't know what not to investigate, yes?"

"Fair point, Commander. Message away," Joker said.

"Excellent. We'll give them a few minutes to read that over before setting up the call. Go ahead and grab a bite or use the facilities; we'll meet back in here in fifteen."


Garrus was growing more and more concerned about the woman he was serving under.

He'd thought it would be freeing, getting away from the bureaucratic red tape and all the artificial restrictions on taking down the bad guys. And it was, in a way – he wouldn't deny that there had been a part of him, a big part even, that had cheered when she'd taken the board members to task and had them sweating bullets in their swanky office.

But all of his satisfaction at their misfortune came from a deep-seated desire to see justice done. To see the guilty punished for their actions and the innocent protected. To have order maintained in the galaxy. Good guys were good guys, bad guys were bad, and there was a clear line between the two.

Except when there wasn't.

He'd been overjoyed when he saw Shepard shut down the suits before they could slow her down with their honeyed words and tricky web of lies, and had nearly cheered when she'd had them dead to rights. But right when he expected her to seal the deal, place them under arrest, freeze their assets, she'd... changed. Let them get away, let them keep their jobs and their titles and their positions at the company.

He agreed with Tali, even if he hadn't spoken up. That didn't just seem wrong; it was wrong. Shepard had bartered the suffering of the colonists away for favors. Maybe she was right, and maybe it'd be worth it in the long run, but that was a cold comfort to those living in Zhu's Hope who'd had their family members killed as a result of what ExoGeni had done.

But what really concerned him was the ease with which she'd done it.

Back in C-Sec, really violent crimes were rare. They happened, especially down in the wards, but they weren't that common. Which was good, of course, but not just because it meant less misery for innocent people. There was a very real cost for the members of C-Sec that had to deal with the aftermath. Being on a really bad scene left a mark on the psyche, and even the toughest investigators were rotated out after a few years to keep them from eating their own guns.

The only people that the job didn't get to were the ones who were bigger monsters than the people they hunted. He'd never personally met one, but there were stories, and not the kind of stories that grew in the telling. Cautionary stories, about the kind of people to keep an eye on, lest they turn out to be nastier than the people they hunted. They'd be your friend, right up until you weren't useful to them any more, then they'd sell you out in a heartbeat, as if none of it had ever mattered. And to them, maybe none of it did.

On the surface, nothing Commander Shepard did was that alarming. She was a little ruthless sometimes, but no more than he had expected of a Spectre. She'd been polite, kind, and professional in nearly everything he'd seen her do.

But... there were a few little things. The ease with which she'd killed the man who tried to blackmail her in Chora's Den. The blatant disregard for anything resembling justice for the people responsible for the Zhu's Hope atrocities.

There were rumors about her, too. They were old – the better part of a decade, which made them ancient history by galactic media standards – but in the archives, they were there. Accusations by the batarians of genocide, a disturbingly polished defense by the Systems Alliance, and the eventual dismissal of charges before they even reached a courtroom.

He'd downloaded the clip the batarians claimed to have gotten from her helmet camera, back when the news first surfaced while he was in the C-Sec Academy. It had seemed over the top back then, and he – like many of his peers – figured that it was another desperate attempt to discredit the fledgling Systems Alliance in its early attempts to colonize various worlds.

But now, looking back on things, he wasn't so sure. There were parts that were still over the top, that didn't make sense for somebody to say or do while in a combat situation, but her behavior... it was eerie how similar the Shepard in the clip was to the Shepard he'd fought alongside. The same mannerisms, the same biotics, the same stance.. and the same cold, dispassionate disregard for the lives of her enemies.

He'd had a chance to fight at her side now, and it had startled him a bit. She didn't kill like most soldiers did. He never saw her eyes tighten, never saw her tense before pulling the trigger or unleashing her biotics. Spirits, he'd seen veteran Hierarchy soldiers display more obvious tells at the firing range, to say nothing of actually being in combat.

He liked to trust his gut, as the humans were wont to say. His gut had been his ally through his career at C-Sec, and it had never turned him wrong. It was right about Saren, it was right about the cases he'd handled before then, and even if he'd had to engage in a little parallel construction to satisfy his superiors, it was always his gut that had given him the first hint that something was up.

Well, his gut was practically screaming that Shepard wasn't what she seemed to be.

The only question that remained, then, was what she actually was.


"Commander," Tevos said with a sigh as she looked up from her data slate, "ExoGeni should have told us about the Thorian. It would have made your job much easier... and would have likely prevented a tragedy, as well."

"You might have been able to capture it for study instead of destroying it," Valern offered.

"Given the creature's inclinations and abilities by the time we reached it, that would have likely failed," Shepard said. Privately, she would have happily thrown the entire colony at the creature in exchange for even a fraction of the knowledge it held – knowledge now lost forever – but that wasn't her job nor her role, and her personal views on the matter were irrelevant.

This time, at least.

"Perhaps it's for the best, then," Tevos mused. "At least the colony was saved."

"Two thirds of it, at least," Sparatus sneered at her. "Rather heavy losses for a rescue operation, don't you think?"

Shepard eyed him levelly. She didn't know what the turian had against her, or if it was even against her and not what she represented, but it grew wearisome when objecting to her actions was all he seemed to do. "It was not a rescue operation, Councilor," she reminded him. "Our goal was to acquire any data possible on Saren's location and activities, putting a stop to his plans if possible. We were successful in that regard, and you can find my conclusions and the data in my written report. Being able to save most of the colonists was a happy side benefit."

Tevos cleared her throat. "I have some concerns about this arrangement you made with ExoGeni, Commander," she said, tapping her data slate with a frown.

Shepard shifted, clasping her hands behind her back. "Specifically?"

"I'm not entirely certain why you're doing this," Tevos said. "There are several unconventional arrangements here, and while your report has a great many details on how the arrangements work it is very light on why."

The corner of Shepard's mouth twitched into a hint of a smile. "Consider it, if you will, a bit of back-alley politics, Councilor Tevos," she said. "Officially, I am a politically neutral agent in your employ. Unofficially, I am humanity's advocate within the Spectres, with responsibilities both to my people and to your organization."

"I'm well aware of the unwritten purpose of the Spectres, Commander, you do not need to explain it to me," Tevos gently chided her.

Shepard offered a slight bow. "Apologies, Councilor. It is my belief that humanity needs to work more closely with the other races in the galaxy in order to prosper, and while I cannot advocate in an official capacity toward that goal, I have no problem working unofficially for it. I have studied galactic history and I have no desire to see my people go down the path of the batarians. By keeping ExoGeni's existing leadership in place with a tight leash on them, I will be able to exert far more control over their affairs than I would otherwise. Hopefully this will keep them from rocking the boat quite so hard."

Valern smiled. "Clever. Risky. But clever."

Tevos nodded. "Indeed. I am not so sure it is the wisest move, but... I approve of your end goal, and as a Spectre you are well within your rights to attempt such a thing. The Council supports this plan."

"As such," Sparatus continued for her, "we will assign several agents to ensure that matters proceed as outlined in your plan so that you may focus on your hunt for Saren."

Translation: We like what you're saying, but we don't really trust you yet, so we're going to put agents we know the loyalty of on the job. She resisted the urge to smirk. That was entirely fine by her – she had little desire to micromanage the bureaucratic mess that her demands of ExoGeni would cause, and as chance would have it the plan she had submitted to the Council was the plan she hoped would use, with no ulterior motives in it at all.

The easiest lie is the truth, after all.

"Thank you, Councilors," she said. "That takes a load off of my mind, at least for the immediate future."

Tevos smiled at her. "Then if we have no further business to discuss, fare well, Commander. We wish you luck in your hunt, and look forward to your next report."


A/N: Next chapter: Several Citadel side quests, Garrus, a bit of breathing room, and then Noveria, where Shit Will Officially Hit The Fan.