Author's Note: Longer note at bottom, please read.
Saren Arterius was an incredible turian. His devotion to duty was second to none, and his skillswereconsidered to be among the best of his order.On the other hand, he was a despicable personwhose morals and methods were questionable at best. For example, one recorded incident tells of how he dissected a batarian smuggler's hand without anesthetics, simply fortheentertainment value of a krogan mercenary he was questioning. Another regrettable incident tells of how hethreatened the life support of a paralyzed asari's bondmateto get information from her mother. As the record shows, he taunted the bond-mate with his omni-blade, making larger holes in the tubing, culminating in severing the supply line completely after obtaining the information he needed.
Looking beyond that, his methods for adjudicating criminal behavior were – pardon the pun – poorly executed in every sense of the word; the reputation Saren built was not based upon a sense of poetic justice. While it is logical that an enormous territory requires a fearsome reputation to be kept in order, Saren's wholesale slaughter of entire stations was definitely more than necessary. Further deeds are simple enough to research; the mundane mind seems to delight in every morbid fact, and as many fantasies that the darker tastes can concoct.
Thedifferences, or lack thereof, between Saren and Shepardhavebeen debated time and time again. Sometimes I think that the only purpose for historians is to get another book published on the subject, rather than add knowledge. Every month, I receive a new shipment of reading material,petabytesof information that appear on the open market. Each time, I store the majority of it in long-term memory. No sense losing even the useless, I guess; I was always something of a packrat.
At any rate – one moment. Pause recording – ….
… - are you sure the probes are picking up that much activity? No, I'm not questioning your capabilities – it's just – all right. You check on that while I double check the sensor parameters.
… - It's not voice activated? I'm certain I asked him to upgrade its programming that way … ah. That is … logical.
Resume record– blast. Have to get that command-software repaired. You'd think the epicenter of a production station would at least have functional equipment! A coherent users guide wouldn't be amiss, either.
At any rate, the Saren issue was not a large problem, at least at first. It was insurmountable.
Imagine finding out that George Washington, Mahatma Gandhi, and Admiral Grissom all conspired together to betray your family to slavers.Now imagine finding someone who would believe you. A difficult proposition, no? This was not nearly as difficult in that regard, but what followed was much, much harder. You see, Saren had years tobuildhis advantage; decades even to create a financial empire to support himself. What could a single man do, even if he was an N7+?
Dr. Arnold Pavenmeyer
~Project Ragnorak Files
System Alliance Embassy, Ambassador's quarters, Citadel
Shepard stared at Udina in disbelief. He's crazy. "You want me to do what?"
"I want you to bring down Saren within twenty hours."
No, that sounded just as crazy the second time, too. He took a breath. Got to play this carefully. "Ambassador, I don't think you quite realize how much work is involved in this." Shepard raised a hand, ticking off the points on his fingers. "First, I need background information, more than what the SAIS has." He gave the older man a sardonic look, "At least what the Spectre channels will allow. I need to look into his finances, his arrest records, what weapons he prefers, how he likes to approach an assignment. This kind of thing takes months to prepare, not hours."
Udina grimaced. "I know this is rather sudden, but I believe it must be done."
Behind the ambassador, Shepard could see Ashley rolling her eyes expressively. Kaidan had returned to the Normandy, overseeing the equipment being loaded; Shepard found himself missing the man's calming influence. Odd how quickly both he and Ashley seem to have fit in. He glanced at Anderson, to see him patiently working on a dedicated console in the back. Wait … he's deliberately pushing himself into the background, leaving me front and center! The captain caught his eye, winking once. Blast it, he knows I know! He narrowed his gaze. Setting me up for Spectre already? We will have words, Commanding Officer or no. Aloud, he responded to Udina, "Why so soon, anyway? Saren isn't on station, and we have no way to track him. We might as well take our time and do this right."
The ambassador spread his arms expressively. "I know, Shepard, and that's what makes this difficult. If we could take Saren down immediately, it would be good for everyone, but we can't, so we have to play this strategically. This has to look good, and that means we have to get something good enough to destroy Saren's reputation, even if we can't get the actual person."
Shepard tilted his head to one side, trying to understand. "I can see how the Alliance wants to see progress," he said slowly, "but there's something else going on here. Isn't there." The last part was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes, of course, you know how multi-level politics can be." Udina scowled, "The only reason we were able to get the Council to think about making another human a Spectre was because of that Beacon. Without the Beacon, the only leverage we have is our technological differences, and the salarians are making too much profit from our shared expertise for us to risk alienating them."
Another human? Who else … Shepard noted Anderson hunching slightly. Must have been bad.
"More than that," Udina continued, "Saren has made us look weak, and we need a response. The Alliance is a sovereign power, with a military the equal to both the salarians and turians combined!" His fist came down on the desk, thudding with finality. "I think we could take on the asari, too. Their Destiny Ascension may have enough firepower to equal a fleet, but they rely on appearing invincible. Saren is the same." A slow smirk began working its way across Udina's face. "We had to teach the galaxy we weren't going to be pushed around at Shanxi, and we'll have to do it again now."
Shepard blinked. We barely won Shanxi. As in: almost lost.
"What, did you think I'd give you some line about pride and justice?" Udina showed his teeth, actually chuckling. From experience, it meant bad things for others. "Bring down Saren, and you prove to the Council that a human can take on the best the rest of the galaxy can send against him. Avenge Eden Prime, and give the Councilors a black eye for what they're doing."
Behind Udina, Anderson fidgeted. Shepard missed seeing his warning glance.
"It's a show of strength; Saren took on one of our colonies and lost. You will take down Saren, or at least expose him for what he is: a murderous, lying tool of the Council."
Shepard sat back. The rhetoric was typical of Udina, but this level of vehemence was not. Maybe he's more patriotic than I'd thought? A warm feeling touched him. It's possible, after all, politicians have to be everything to everyone. That has to take a toll on your mind. A different thought rose, though. Do we really want to anger the Council that way? Yes, Saren must be punished, but not by rubbing the Council's collective face in their problem. He shrugged mentally. That's a problem for the politicians. The situation hasn't changed though, so it's six to one, half a dozen to the other.
"Can't be done." Shepard answered flatly. "I need a month at the least; it would take five hours just to get a full background workup from SAIS, and a week to go through all of it properly." He idly wished for the comforting weight of a long rifle at his back; always a calming presence. "To get it done fast, I'd need a team of auditors, and a forensics expert too. Check his bookwork for discrepancies, and get through wherever he's been."
A female voice spoke up. "Commander," both Shepard and Udina twisted sharply. Ashley looked somewhat abashed at the attention, but forged on. "What about that turian in the Tower? Detective something or other? If he was investigating Saren, he has to have had some files." She shuffled her feet awkwardly. "He seemed awfully interested in seeing us win."
Shepard groaned internally, Et tu, Ashley? He ignored the informal address, since it was only in thought.
"That's a good point." Udina perked up again, making Shepard wonder if the man was mildly bipolar. "I think you can find him through Harkin, one of the foot officers in C-Sec. Rumor has it he knows where everyone is, although," his face made a strange motion, "he is one of the most thoroughly repugnant examples of humanity I have ever had the pleasure of encountering."
"Right." Shepard stood. "I'll get on that then. Where do I find this Harkin?"
"In the club, Chora's Den I think it's called." Udina must have noticed Shepard freeze. "Surely a soldier like you has been in a club before?"
Shepard didn't turn around. "Chief Williams, let Major Alenko know we'll be re-arming at the Normandy. We have a detective to catch." Something I never expected to say. He finished in his head. The thought of his destination squirmed in the forefront of his mind. Or go. He shuddered.
[break]
Anderson watched his protégé leave the room, the great granddaughter of General Williams close at his side. The fact that the woman, renown for being impossible to impress, had attached herself so closely to the young commander spoke volumes of his leadership skills.
He has such a gift, why can he not see it? Anderson shook his head. Life has handed him so many handicaps. I pray he won't break with this one. His focus changed to Udina, puttering away behind the ambassadorial desk with a smug grin on his face. I do everything I can … and he calls himself a friend.
Anderson took a breath. "You lied to him."
The ambassador lowered his tablet, looking mildly shocked. "I did no such thing Captain Anderson. Every word I said was the truth!"
"All of it?" Anderson pushed his voice deeper. He didn't have the threatening rumble Shepard could attain, but knew the visual portion of his disappointment more than compensated. "Did you tell him why the asari have been playing hardball with you? What they've been up to since they first discovered the salarians cut a deal?"
Udina flushed, angrily. "Bah. Shepard knows the economic situation better than me sometimes. He knows the asari have been toying with our trade agreements for years now." The older man gritted his teeth at the thought. "Every time I think I've made inroads, an emergency comes up, or the financial situation changes. If I didn't know better, I'd say there's a conspiracy."
The Captain watched the ambassador natter on, complaining about delays, rising from his chair, ascending into a higher-leveled dudgeon. Out of habit, he checked the windows, looking for potential eavesdroppers. I should probably ask Shepard if Udina is in on his little theory, get his thoughts on bringing him in if not. The thought was intriguing; an ambassador would be a powerful ally. Satisfied, Anderson re-focused on the balding man.
Udina had his hands in the air, pacing through the luxuriously appointed room, settling his feet heavily as if the floor had done him some personal wrong. "And after that, I managed to divert an entire shipment. Fifty tons! You know what happened?" He spun pointing at Anderson, "She thanked me, but pointed out how the salarians were able to resupply a day earlier. One day!" His hands fell, shoulders slumping before he rose again. "Fortunately, the salarian contracts are proceeding better than we'd hoped. Between the Hephaestus stations and the nanotechnology assets we've been releasing, we've been able to accelerate their colonization plans exponentially," his eyebrows rose and fell happily. "They love the stations almost as much as the quarians do."
A sudden thought made the ambassador's expression turn thoughtful. "If I recall correctly, one of the asari Matriarchs owns a significant portion of a nanotech producer." His eyes widened, "That's why Tevos is so eager now!" Udina scrambled for a blank tablet, scribbling notes on its surface haphazardly. "Shepard is from Mindoir, one of the leading centers for nanotech development. Now it makes more sense!"
"What does?" Anderson lifted his hands from the keyboard.
"Why they want Shepard!" Udina happily plonked himself back into his chair. "He's from Mindoir, one of the foremost nanotechnology producers in the Alliance. If I recall, he arranged for a Sirta med-gel plant too; the colony has become a cash cow once it was resettled." The ambassador almost seemed to spin his chair, such was his enthusiasm. "Ha! That matriarch I was talking about, the one back under the Goyle era, was gifted with thirty percent ownership of a nanotechnology patent. Right now, that patent is earning billions in net profit. Everyone will want a part of that, or at least the appearance of being involved in the process."
"Ridiculous." Anderson snorted. "Shepard's control over Mindoir is the same as my control over the Traverse: poor to nonexistent."
"Ah ah ah," Udina countered, waving a finger. "It isn't just a show. You know as well as I how highly the colony holds him in regard, and what we know, Tevos suspects! It's politics to her, and Shepard is an Alliance member connected to a strong portion of the techno-economy!"
Anderson nodded slowly. "With Shepard as a Spectre, they show that the Alliance is considered a worthy partner. By denying me, they demonstrated a selective process …" his expression darkened. "Or too much credulity."
"Excellent!" Udina clapped approvingly, "you have a flair for politics, don't you?"
Waving the idea aside, Anderson decided to switch topics. "Speaking of technology, what are the quarians up to recently? The Normandy project has had me busy for a while now. Should I be aware of anything?"
"Hmmm." Udina's exuberance dampened. "I must admit, I am conflicted about the quarians. Half of the Council approves of our getting them out of circulation, but the other half appears to believe we are poaching from their own reserves." He shook himself, "and yes, I know there are three members of the Citadel Council. Basic arithmetic and politics do not appear to mix."
With a sigh, the ambassador walked to the wide opening. If forced, he would probably admit the Council knew how to demonstrate the Citadel's attractive vista to best advantage. "Last I knew, the Migrant Fleet had almost finished refurbishing its Heavy Fleet, and that the Liveships were back in fully functioning order. The reverse chiral worlds we are loaning to them are highly productive, their efficiency levels are off the charts." He tapped his chin, musing. "Now that I think about it, this geth report should be made available to them. They may find it of interest."
Anderson snorted. "I have quarians on Normandy's ground teams. I'm pretty sure the Migrant Fleet is completely aware of the situation by now."
"Hmph. They should have gone through official channels," Udina grumbled. "But … I suppose it is understandable; I'll forward a report all the same. Might as well gain some favor there." He scribbled a note. "No matter. Back to Shepard: finding evidence on Saren." He sighed. "Councilor Tevos appeared to take great personal interest in the situation. The request for a human Spectre had to have been passed through her approval list, after all. She's seen our candidate short list, too."
The raised tone made Anderson think hard. "She didn't object very strongly when Saren deep-sixed my own attempt a ways back. Why are they playing so oddly?"
Udina shrugged. "I wasn't sure before now; Tevos is very hard to read, as you have no doubt discovered for yourself. She has a reputation for being a master of the long-term strategy, well-earned at that. I also know she considers her race to be superior, and on occasion I have felt she talks down to anyone whom has not performed some great deed on behalf of the asari." His eyebrows lowered. "But she is one of the most powerful beings in Council Space. She only backs winners, and right now we need her in our corner."
Anderson waited patiently. With politicians, it normally took some time before they finally got to the point.
Brown eyes focused on his own. "Our talks have led to potential agreements, all hypothetical," the ambassador's shoulders went back, but his head was still hunched, as if he were nervous. "Very hypothetical, but her record does not indicate a penchant for prevarication, even hypothetically." He resumed his original position, eyes lost in the distance.
"Three of the oldest firms in Asari space have been sending inquiries, very politely phrased, ever since this Spectre business began again. They provide discrete support for Huntress groups, an eclectic bunch if there ever was one. The point is the groups are highly independent, and take good manufacturing wherever they can find it." His eyes gleamed. "That's why I was surprised when Tevos opened preliminaries; she's been so standoffish before that I'd almost given up hope. Now, she knows of Shepard and Mindoir, and the Huntress groups are seeking high-quality gear … that would be quite the coup!"
Anderson nodded. I've seen them in action. Formidable opponents; very few wish to be on their bad side.
Udina echoed his nod, as if to himself. ""They use the best hardware available. They know what's good, and I would be willing to bet they've been lobbying for Alliance tech." Udina settled in his chair with a self-satisfied look. Essentially, should we succeed, Tevos would be publicly acknowledging us as being worthy of trade. She knows the volus and hanar are very profitable, and humanity has now been in contact with the asari for over thirty years. That's faster than greased lightning in their eyes. If we can gain contracts with the asari similar to what we have created with the salarians and quarians, Alliance profits will break all records, dare I say it? A new Golden Age for Humanity?"
The man's face froze. "He has to do it, Anderson!" his eyes grew wider, "By all that's holy, help Shepard get Saren. In the name of Humanity, get Saren!"
"You know I'll help him as much as I can, if he will allow it." Frowning, Anderson stood. "I'll do what I can. Right now, the Normandy needs me to watch over its refitting, since its Executive Officer is being sent on a hunt. Good luck." He left the ambassador to his plots, wondering all the time if his own well-wishes were heartfelt.
[break]
Shepard picked up the small stuffed bear from the last ground mission, freshly laundered. The button eyes were gleaming; likely the result of a sonic cycle removing what might have been years of grime. The dried blood was gone as well, leaving it feeling lighter too, almost as if the loss of its previous owner had destroyed some part of its being. He stroked the soft brown fur, letting the frustrated rage build up once more, reminding him of what had to be done. Never in my presence. Death happens, but when a Shepard is around, it happens to others. His jaw set, stoking the inner anger to a quiet burn. Trouble is coming: its name is Shepard.
Carefully, he placed the toy in his locker's upper portion, just behind a spare pair of boots. No one to date remarked on his behavior; every soldier in the game had developed their own unique quirks at some point or other. Word got around, particularly when a weapon of blunt trauma hung in the background.
Returning to his primary work, he began re-armoring. The Nightstalker set had arrived, making him feel whole once more. He'd been forced to undergo another bio-scan, mapping his peripheral nervous system for proper setting of the element zero conduits. That had been a decision out of his power, although getting through the scan with minimal questioning had been a bit of a chore.
It was worth it, though. Shepard admired the spotless armor pieces. Its black surfaces had been roughed in a matte finish, just as he preferred, red N7 stripe boldly gleaming down the right pauldron. Carefully, he flicked the visor into a different mode, letting him see the ultraviolet finish gleam its hidden message. He allowed himself a moment of smugness. N7 Plus, best of the best.
Heading back to the airlock, he ran into Pressley. Seeing the man gave him an idea. "Navigator, how are your research skills these days?"
The older man looked surprised. "Hmmm, still pretty sharp, if I do say so myself. I've been going through the databases ever since I came aboard, and I was doing quite a bit for the Academy before I was asked to come here."
The idea grew. "Would you have enough time for a side project, Pressley? I wouldn't ask, but it is somewhat important."
The balding man smiled. "Checking the maps used to be a full-time job, but with the improved VI's the Captain got us, I can get it done in half the time. What do you have for me?"
Shepard took a step to one side, lowering his voice. "I'm going after Saren; he's the one who sicced the Geth on Eden Prime, set up that bomb and destroyed the Beacon."
The Navigator's eyes grew flint-hard. "What can I do, Commander?"
Keeping an eye out for prying ears, Shepard leaned closer. "Market research. Get in touch with SAIS, see what they have on non-human shareholders in major Alliance colonies." He tapped his new omni-tool; it beeped, flashing once. The navigator's own implement flashed a second later. "I just sent you contact information for my personal broker; ask him to help with the search. Tell him to prioritize his search for Spectre clearance trades, anything that had to be given high-level confirmation."
Pressley nodded once, "Understood, Commander. How far down do I go?"
"The Normandy comes first, Pressley. Make sure everything needed for her is done first, then go through the rest. The broker has an entire firm behind him to do research, I just want you to figure out search terms and go through what you can." Shepard straightened, clapping the man on the back. "I'll get you as much help as soon as possible, but for now, let's keep this quiet. Your cover can be simple, like checking where good hiding places for the Normandy crew will be."
"Hiding … places?" The man looked confused.
"Places where humans can interact outside Alliance space without raising suspicion. Humans are seen in places with money, places with a lot of people moving around, ships moving in and out on a frequent basis." He paused. "Can you do that?"
The navigator's back stiffened. "Can I? I … may or may not … have run an illegal database network for a hacking group in my early days." His cheeks darkened, "Something I'm not exactly proud of now, but back then, I was a ghost in the systems. Sometimes I think it's why I do what I do now." He gestured at the CIC, "I search the maps, looking for weak points, checking for errors. I am the final say in where we go, and nothing," His lips moved upwards, "Nothing gets past my systems on this ship."
Shepard's estimation of the older man went up a notch. I better take another look at his record. If he's as good as he says, why didn't SAIS recruit him? "Very well. Do your best, and let me know if you need anything. I have twenty hours, officially, but I would be willing to bet this project will last a lot longer."
He left the man, and headed for the airlock. Just before he joined his squad, Captain Anderson intercepted him. "Commander, a word if you will?"
"Of course," Shepard followed his CO's lead, drifting into a quiet corner. "What is it?"
Anderson's jaw was clenched, evidence of strong emotion. "I've gone up against Saren, Shepard, a long time ago. Be careful, he is very good. Even more brutal than his reputation would suggest."
Shepard's eyebrows attempted to explore his hairline. "You? But how –" Facts assembled themselves in his mind. Present during ostensibly a political action, indicating confidence by Alliance brass. Very quiet, restrained actions during that little exhibition. Highly decorated N7 operative. Extensive experience in anti-terrorist actions, specialist in guerrilla warfare. Given the Plus ranking almost twenty years ago, shortly before – no? "Candidate?" he asked quietly.
A firm nod told Shepard everything; it had not ended well. "Any hints, Captain?" He kept his voice light, but quiet.
"You're an N7. You know what happens if you get caught." Anderson looked sideways as a technician fumbled past. "If you can get the proof Udina wants, there's a chance the Council will do something about it. But if not," the man's posture tightened into something more … carnal. "If not, the Alliance just might send one of its best after him. Remember the Goyle Treaty; Systems Alliance law enforcement agents are allowed to pursue a suspect into Council Space."
Shepard growled, making a guttural noise deep in his throat. "With enough restrictions to choke a Thresher Maw, yes."
Anderson shrugged. "It's better than nothing. Could you honestly say you would allow a Council agent free reign in Alliance space? Keeping in mind both sides have technology that could damage, or empower, the other?"
For a moment Shepard wanted to protest, out of sheer stubbornness, but resisted. "No."
The older man clapped him on the shoulder, firmly slapping the armor plate protecting the soldier. "Get out there and get it done. I'm counting on you, Shepard."
Shepard set his jaw. "I read you, Anderson. Saren's going down. One way or another."
[break]
The route to Chora's Den was surprisingly close to C-Sec's location. So close, in fact, that there appeared to be adequate signage, betraying frequent usage. He frowned, considering. In a way, that makes sense. Turians don't seem to have regulations for off-duty hours, and while it's a stereotype, asari probably think of it as a second job. He shook his head sternly. Knock it off. There are plenty intellectual asari not interested in either killing you or finding the local moth-shop boutique … you just haven't met any yet.
On autopilot, Shepard nearly tripped over his boots again, almost missing the flash of movement. His peripheral caught the motion, recognizing the off-white color. Instantly, he dove for cover. "Tangoes, three-o'clock low!"
Ashley cursed, matching his move as gunshots began passing overhead. Her assault rifle was already in hand, her body tense, almost vibrating in happiness. "Close quarters combat; get 'em in knife range and I'll be happy."
"Hah, mech pusher." Shepard gave her a wink. Camaraderie in battle … all right. But leave me alone everywhere else. "Never satisfied, maybe I should get the next fight delivered to the Normandy bay?" The return snort made him chuckle inwardly.
To one side, Kaidan had generated a barrier around himself, using the boosted shield to take several shots in order to look over the field before dropping flat. "Two hostiles across the gap." He jerked his shoulder to the side, the direction in which they had been traveling. "Movement on the left, looks light, no heavies."
Switching to a pistol, Shepard tracked to one side. "Covering left, push them out front."
He waited before the familiar crump of a detonating grenade went off to his right. A surprised yell, followed by a burst of assault rifle brought his lips upwards grimly. Just beyond the angular edging of a wall, yet inside his field of vision, a faint azure flash trailed from one corner to the next. Biotics. Shepard gave a derisive sneer to no one in particular. Once they go blue, nothing else will do.
His omni-tool clicked, spitting a grenade into the launcher on his forearm. Shepard paused, tracking the end point of the biotic trail as it flared and faded, getting closer behind different corners. Powerful opponent, using biotics to speed up the approach. Good way to get close fast; depends too much on having distracted targets. Estimates ticked through his mind before his finger twitched. The grenade flew over a dozen meters, and slapped against the floor plates just shy of the wall.
That out of the way, Shepard joined fire with his squad, teaming up with Ashley to tag one of the more aggressive targets. The anti-armor modification on his pistol punched through the thin cover, forcing their assailant to start running. Her disrupter mods were forcing their prey to stay low, but with Shepard now aiding her attack, hiding was no longer an option.
Turian. Shepard could see its head-spikes now. They moved along the wall, accompanied by an unusual, orange glow. It shone from behind the metal barrier, like some form of armor floating above the alien's regular armor. Strangely, a trail of sparks followed the glow, along with a scraping noise.
Before Shepard could take advantage of the visible target, an explosion boomed to his left. A scream, shifting in tone, went past him as a blue flash ricocheted off one of the pillars filling that section of the station. The cerulean haze of a biotic Charge terminated in an asari, lying broken against the far wall.
It was just enough warning for Shepard. He fell into a shoulder roll, firing back to the left. A second asari blurred towards him at a dead run, her purple-tinted barrier slapping his bullets aside as if they were nothing.
Frowning, Shepard sent a sub-vocal command through his visor, switching from semi-automatic to full auto. His bullet spray doubled, kicking against his wrist with more energy.
The biotic barrier swirled more actively, but didn't fall. The asari picked up speed, bringing her shotgun to bear.
He was not interested at in the prospect of experiencing such damage at close range. Shepard's off hand flickered, sending an EMP burst from its supporting position on his gun-hand.
The asari pounded closer, running as if she were possessed. Shepard could understand that; Kaidan and Ashley were busy taking out two others whom had cover, so at the moment, the asari was facing a single opponent. As soon as one of her allies made a mistake, or if Shepard's own allies switched targets, her situation would go from bad to dead.
Of course, Shepard hid a vicious smirk, she might be arrogant enough to think she could take all of us on at once. Maybe do some damage from ambush, but never in open combat.
His concealed grin threatened to widen as the asari triggered a blast. The gun failed to respond, making her pupils dilate.
Shepard took advantage of her confusion, winging another grenade at her feet. She tried to jump, but the shifting tactics combined with the unexpected weapon failure threw her concentration. All she was able to do was increase her barrier before the explosion threw her off her feet.
Another surprised cry told Shepard that his squad had finally broken through the turian's enhanced shields. He stood up, waiting. The affected turian floated upwards in sight, just high enough to be targeted by Ashley. He went down.
Stalking forwards, Shepard kept his sidearm aimed at the groaning asari. Stopping at a safe distance, he waited for his squad mates to get closer. Hostile prisoner Rule Number One: never approach an unsecured prisoner alone. Internally, he boosted his estimation of his comrades a few levels; they had adapted to the situation fluidly, trusting each other implicitly.
"Who are you?" Shepard holstered his weapon, getting down on one knee. Over his left shoulder, Ashley had her Avenger leveled in a blatant warning.
"Go kiss a varren." The asari growled at him.
He sighed. "Look, you need help. You're in over your head, and –" he ducked a coruscating ball of blue fire. "That was rude."
"Drink sacha and die!" The asari's hand quivered, but stopped its motion as Shepard pinned it to the floor under his boot.
Without emotion, Shepard clubbed the asari's temple with a fisted gauntlet, striking the region above her aural lobe to overload her pain receptors. Her eyes rolled up in response, unconscious. He looked over her body a moment, then tapped his earpiece. "Shepard to Normandy. Would you notify C-Sec they have a few bodies to pick up?"
"Normandy here, acknowledged. Message sent."
Shepard didn't pause, pointing at the other bodies. "Search them. Take their omni-tools, good weapons, anything that looks valuable."
Ashley's head jerked up. "Sir? Are you serious?" Behind her, Alenko froze, eyes flicking between Shepard and the bodies lying on the floor, one precariously balanced on the ledge.
"Identities will be through their omni-tools." Shepard ignored the living-but-unconscious asari, moving to riffle through the pouches on the dead asari. "Weapons can tell us where they get supplies; any useful data will probably be stored with the valuables." He looked up, eyes hard. "No time for a proper crime scene; this is fast and dirty forensics. Do you think C-Sec will give us first crack at the data?"
"Um … no, sir." Ashley slowly moved to the balanced turian. "But … I don't feel right robbing the dead."
"Spoils of war. They attacked us for no reason. If they were justified, we can always send a nice apology to their next-of-kin." Shepard grunted, checking the asari's boots. Good high-quality boots. Dirt in the treads, turian made. Heavily used. "I would bet you that half of what C-Sec finds would go to the evidence rooms. The rest would be untrackable." He didn't bother explaining the statement, and flicked a glance back at the weapons chief. She was slowly but professionally going over the remains of a turian. He sighed, quietly. They're new to this. Black ops have made you cold, Shepard, treasure the innocence while you can.
"Copy the omni-tools." Shepard kept his tone in a grudging acceptance level. Pick your battles, Shepard. Don't break out the artillery for every fight. Still, if they're going to be with you for the long haul … "But take the side arms." He gave both of them a measuring stare. "Always good to have an unregistered weapon. Trust me on that one."
He watched in quiet amusement as they sped up their actions. Compromise. The soul of discretion I am.
They worked their grisly task in silence for the next few minutes. It took Shepard less time than the others, but he was more used to this kind of thing, and more thorough. Asari may have not used amps out of pride, but they were renown in certain circles for hiding wealth. Bracelets, necklaces, money pouches under the armor … the number of ways to conceal riches was endless.
Jogging boots striking metal caught his ears. He rose, motioning for Kaiden and Ashley to back away. From the further side of the chamber, a turian, followed by an asari and another turian came into sight. His short, clipped strides faltered when Shepard moved.
Shepard kept his hands widespread, the universal no threat posture. "C-Sec?"
The turian nodded in a world-weary fashion. "Officer Chellick, C-Sec Investigations. You called about an attack?" His eyes moved over the bodies, now in a neat row on the floor. They landed on the unconscious asari. "Left one alive, did you?"
Shrugging, Shepard made a circling gesture with one hand. "You know how it goes. First chance of shore leave and suddenly everything goes pear-shaped."
The turian sighed deeply. "Yeah, happens every few months. Alliance, right?"
"Commander Shepard, Systems Alliance." Shepard gave a formal salute. The turian came to attention, returning the move crisply. Turians understand military. Show you're like him, and he'll do things that would have benefited himself, were he in your place. "I'm the Executive Officer on the Normandy."
The turian motioned to his companions. The asari immediately moved to the still unconscious attacker, pulling what looked like handcuffs from her belt. "I don't suppose you could tell me what's going on then, could you?"
"Politics," Shepard grunted. "I'd tell you more, but I think you have a lot of the information already."
The turian's manner chilled. "I see. Anyone I should be talking too, in case of … complications?"
"Not really. I'm just looking for some information on Spectre Arterius, and these mercs managed to get the drop on us. No proof of correlation. Yet." He tilted his hip to one side, letting the arm fall beside one holster. "On that line, do you know where I could find Detective Vakarian?"
The turian shrugged. "Mister Vakarian is on official leave right now. He's had … a lot on his mind lately."
"Ah. I would still like to talk with him, if that is possible?" Shepard persisted. Given the turian mindset, he probably pushed Detective Vakarian from memory as soon as he went off duty.
"Can't help you there." The turian appeared eager to get on with his day. "All I know is he was called up to the Executor office a while ago and word came down to make sure he didn't stop by the Armory before he took some vacation." Chellick's shoulders went back, head lowering slightly, "Garrus is a good detective; a bit odd, but his heart is in the right place."
Mantling, Shepard thought. That's what the ornithologist told me it was called, some residual attempt to look bigger … or something. Don't remember what else ... Mister he called him, not Detective. Significant.
"My apologies for wasting your time." Shepard drew his lips over his teeth in a friendly display, but he tensed his abdominals, twitching a hip sideways. "Please, have a nice day." Turn your shoulder to him, keep eyes wide. Combine the honest expression with deceitful hips … being a turian has to be confusing.
The turian gave a stiff nod, striding to the apparent team medic. Shepard noted the alien's hips twitch slightly, a reflex action with one knee swinging out of line, ruining what would have been a perfectly straight military stride.
"Wow, never a slow day with you, is it Shepard?" Kaiden commented quietly.
"I've heard of the concept," Shepard checked his peripherals. No one was observing them at the moment. "But I've found I can't get much done when things go quietly."
"Amen to that," Kaiden agreed. Ahsley nodded quietly.
"So then …" Shepard unconsciously let his shoulders drop, starting to walk towards the so-named 'gentleman's' club, "On to our original objective … hope it's worth it." He mumbled the last part under his breath.
Unfortunately, Kaiden's ears were sharper than he'd anticipated. "Something wrong, Shepard?"
The commander growled at himself. Watch it, bonehead. Next thing you'll be spilling company secrets to a reporter! He took a moment to compose himself. How much do I tell him? Them? Shepard corrected himself, seeing Ashley's inquiring look. Blast it all for a game of soldiers He took a breath. "I do not have the most – amicable – feelings towards those businesses. Have either of you seen an Officer's Club on a Hegemony world?"
Both of his soldiers shook their heads.
"Then give thanks. What they do in the name of entertainment …." He shuddered, and didn't attempt to minimize the movement. "I've been sent in periodically. One of the most likely places to find human slaves. It's a perfect place to show off how powerful the local leadership is, and how weak humans are. Each time, I wasn't – " he swallowed, "able to liberate everyone, but I made damn sure the owners had a most – poetic – restitution for their loss. I've never been in a place like that voluntarily. Ever since then, I've felt like burning down the house whenever I get close to a place like that."
There was little time to adjust to the idea. The business was located a mere handful of paces from where the C-Sec officers had arrived. Shepard held back a growl at their callousness, but kept it from leaving his throat.
Flashing lights, advertising an improbably flexible woman of indeterminate race, sparkled off his visor as they drew closer. The title: Chora's Den was made out of a stable light source, in comparison to the image. Shepard fought down an inner anger again. This is getting tiresome. Stress is one possible reason, but even high-stress situations don't make me this irritable. Shaking it off, he adopted a longer, more confident stride. The faster we get this done, the faster we can get out.
The doors opened, revealing darkened innards. Shepard ignored the writhing figures above the counter. Memories flooded against the barriers in his mind, screams echoing through his subconscious. The immaterial sounds receded slightly as he focused on the customers.
As if in response, the anger flared again pounding in time to the pulsing rhythm. It hammered on his soul, calling the darker aspects he knew were buried within. Adapting to it, Shepard used the beat to measure his steps, searching each face he came across. Loud music boomed off the cages, batarians lolling at their ease. Once in a while, hands reached through the bars, grasping hopefully at passing trays, only to be struck down. He shuddered, hoping the armor covered the movement. One asari, darker blue than most, seemed to be trying to catch his attention. Dismissively, Shepard shouldered past, continuing his search.
There.
At the table furthest from the entrance, sat a balding human, slightly paunchy in appearance. While multiple humans were present, if in minimal numbers, this one wore the C-Sec uniform – badly. Stains covered his shirt front, and the jacket was slung carelessly over a corner of another chair, looking as wrinkled as if it had been manufactured in the previous Ice Age. Udina's less-than-enthusiastic description seemed more and more appropriate.
Hmmm. Model of civilian authority, eh? More useless than a mermaid in a chorus line by the look of him. Shepard shoved his thoughts back into the depths, stepping towards the man.
"Are you Harkin?" He kept his voice civil; while it was debatable, he was wearing the emblem of the Alliance. An example had to be made.
"Who wants 'ta know?" The balding man slurred. He seemed to have trouble focusing on Shepard, eyeing him somewhere in the abdominal region.
"Udina said you could tell me where Detective Vakarian is." Shepard really, really hoped the information was short. Deeply held memories were rising to the surface, much in the same way monsters from the deep detected a tasty morsel bobbing on the ocean's surface.
"That sunnova … something … bad." Harkin straightened slowly, elbow dragging through an unidentifiable fluid spilling across the table. "Y'know he tried ta investigate – " He slumped, threatening to fall before regaining his balance at the last moment.
Shepard didn't move to help.
"Tried ta investigate me?" The man finally burst out. His volume was easily covered by the club's music, not that it probably would have bothered the clientele.
"Big surprise," Williams commented sarcastically. "I saw your record on the way over. Didn't know it was possible to have so many DUI's and a legal driver's license at the same time."
"They ain't gonna lock me down …" Harkin leered at her. "I'm one of tha first human C-Secs y'know? Udina's got meh back."
Ashley backed from the man. "Charming."
"Do you, or don't you, know where Detective Vakarian is?" Shepard took control of the conversation once more. He felt vaguely disturbed, the human C-Sec officer had a deeper look of cunning in his eye. No way he applies that intellect to his job … Shepard looked around. Aha. A krogan, loitering next to the exit was keeping a close eye, not on Harkin, but Shepard and his crew. Farther to one side, a pair of humans were drinking freely, except the level in their mugs never seemed to decrease. Not smart enough to avoid getting drunk, but smart enough to hire guards for when he does. Pathetic. Unless getting drunk is a cover?
"He ain't a detective no more, not Vakarian." Harkin raised his glass unsteadily. "Not after what he explahne … explaneish … said."
Shepard raised an eyebrow. One of the krogan bouncers apparently not with Harkin's personal detail, had noticed his own presence, and was now paying close attention. Soldiers were evidentially common to Chora's Den. Armed soldiers bearing the colors and arms of the Systems Alliance … apparently not so much.
"The point?" he asked. Screams echoed through the short hall, coarse laughter shaking the walls. The memory was swiftly quashed, forced into its container until it would be needed. They always were, eventually.
The smaller man smirked upwards. "What's it worth to ya?"
Shepard felt Alenko stiffen behind his shoulder. Casually, he took a step closer, hiding the biotic's reaction from the lesser man. "The information will help the Alliance, isn't that enough?"
The corner of Harkin's mouth yanked back, like a particularly clever monkey, detecting an unexpected bit of fruit. "If tha Alliance wants it, then it can pay a lot. I know tha'," one of his eyes twitched spasmodically, "I seen enough stuff going through to know that." The non-twitching eye slid over Williams form appreciatively.
The thudding music wasn't quite loud enough to conceal Ashley's growl. Harkin heard it too. "A few hours with soldier girl there should work." Teeth gleamed. "Unless y'all too high 'n mighty for an occifer – a osserfi – wossaname – me."
Shepard's estimate went down. The man's not only drunk, he's born stupid, even dumber than me. It's a wonder he's survived this long … Udina, what have you done? Shepard glanced at the Gunnery Chief's face. Despite the poor lighting, he could see the darker color. Masseter muscles are clenched, blood in the face, teeth bared, eyebrows down. Yep, definitely angry.
It gave him an idea. "Chief Williams," he gave the soldier a deliberate wink, "would you mind taking this upstanding officer of the law outside for a little … entertainment?"
The dark-haired woman stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. Then, her lips curved upwards. Shepard held back a shudder; he'd seen sharks with more amicable teeth.
"Certainly, sir." She raised an eyebrow, "but you know, I am still on duty."
He waved airily, "Consider yourself off the clock for say –" he checked his wrist, "fifteen minutes?"
"Plenty of time, sir." Ashley bent her gaze to the oblivious man at the table.
"Ah-ah," Shepard held up an admonishing finger. "Off duty soldiers should not address a superior officer as 'sir.'"
"Ah, right. Shepard." Her eyes didn't rise, measuring the seated man. "Come on bud, you wanna have some fun?"
Shepard took a couple steps back, ignoring the now leering Harkin getting towed away by the armored woman. Idiot. He has all the survival instinct of a dodo. He shoved down yet another memory. Can't leave yet, need to give her a few minutes.
He glared at the room in general, casing its weak points out of habit. Then again, this place is a dive, no one would notice … one of the krogan shifted slightly, aiming his shotgun in their direction rather pointedly, beginning to walk after the gunnery chief and her … date. The approach of another krogan, larger and with a scarred red crest distracted the gun-wielding krogan made him pause, but not move the gun. All right, a little waiting game.
"Looks like we have a couple minutes before we need to leave, Kaiden." Shepard kept an eye open, waiting for the right moment. "Have any suggestions?"
The biotic pursed his lips. "Have any stories you tell the rookies?"
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "You're not rookie, Alenko."
Kaiden shrugged. "So? This is a strange place, and we're waiting for orders. Why not?"
"Point." Shepard leaned against a nearby table, folding his arms so one hand was near his sidearm. A new game, eh? Let's see how you play. "You ever get training in Counter-Biotic-Combat maneuvers?"
The other man snorted. "I trained with other biotics, so I suppose you could say I did."
"You didn't get the CBC course load?" Shepard asked, a little surprised. "I'd think any biotic would want training there."
"Tell me about it." Alenko leaned against a wall, casually folding his own arms. "You took it, I guess?"
Shepard nodded. "Of course, standard N4 training ... did you ever go up against an asari Huntress?"
The biotic gave a fond smile "Took all the courses in that line, mostly in technology based takedowns. Biotics are induced by nerve actions, whether by motion or just training. Disrupt the action, and you hamstring the biotic." A faraway look came to his eyes. "My first training session was … interesting. An asari Commando was hired to give us a bit of a workout, no weapons."
"Ouch," Shepard winced, "sounds painful."
"It left a few marks, true." Kaiden acknowledged. "Nina, the asari, had a bit of an attitude. It was well deserved, but I was a hotheaded youngster."
Shepard sighed knowingly. "Weren't we all at some point?"
"I guess," Kaiden shifted his posture. "She had left a few openings in her stance, and I took the bait. At that point, I was a pretty decent hand-to-hand combatant, and I knew it. Problem was, she had better biotics, and she knew it."
"What happened?" Shepard asked innocently. He eyed the large scarred-plate krogan brush past the Harkin guards. The guards moved out of the larger krogan's path after only a short exchange of glares. Interesting.
"Well," Kaiden paused for a moment, "I was thrown around for a bit. She reduced my weight, then tossed me at the ceiling, then increased my mass to hit the floor. Hard. Then she demonstrated some of her favorite moves, and I had a few close-encounters of the walled kind. In the end, I managed to get some payback."
Apparently oblivious to Shepard's split attention, Kaiden continued. "She tossed me up at the ceiling again, then started lecturing the group while I was up there. I was able to push against the ceiling to change my angle while Nina wasn't looking; then brought me down with a lot of extra mass."
Shepard laughed silently. I know what's coming, rookie mistake, especially from an actual Huntress.
"She'd bumped up my weight to a few hundred kilos, and brought the whole thing down right on her own head." Kaiden chuckled heartily. It was an infectious laugh, something Shepard couldn't help but join in on.
Shepard settled back a little further. "You landed on a full-fledged asari Commando?"
The Lieutenant's voice continued, soothingly calm. It was an interesting dichotomy, what with the floor-shaking rumble of the raucous bass music booming in the background. This is a better place, perhaps. The thought surfaced without warning. It was intriguing, how such things arose from nothing.
Relaxing slightly, Shepard let the other man continue. It was interesting, hearing the descriptive experiences someone else had undergone, particularly when the conversation had started as an interrogation of himself. At the risk of seeming rude, he let his own eyes roam, picking out individuals, examining them for a moment before moving on.
A turian caught his eye. The head-fringe was a peculiar color, as if the turian had used gold leaf on the tips. The unsteady lighting played over the metallic finish, gleaming at Shepard.
"All right, Lieutenant?" Shepard looked up, Anderson's dark eyes locked on his own. "Lieutenant, get the wounded out of here. Take this," the older man handed him a gold-colored credit-chit. "Give it to her family. It's not much, but it will get them to safety."
He changed his focus, watching the nervous bartender behind the counter. Her eyes kept darting to a specific location under the flat top, as if seeking reassurance from something, probably a weapon.
"Got you now, little traitor." The batarian levelled a Graal spikethrower at Shepard's face. "Did you think you could s**** over the Blue Suns, and get away with it?" Behind the batarian, one of the hired mercenaries slowly lowered his own aptly named Executioner sidearm at the batarian's skull.
Shepard gave the batarian his sunniest expression. "Pretty much, yeah."
The music thumped in a new pattern, bringing Shepard out of his reverie. Part of his mouth curled upwards at the memory. That was a good ending. No loss there.
His attention turned, watching a customer berating an entertainer about something. She looked young, although Shepard knew asari didn't really age in the same way humans did. Yet, her body language indicated annoyed fear, an intriguing combination.
"Please, sir, don't hurt me." The woman, on her knees begged. One of her eyes was blackened, and blood stained her blouse. "Please, just … just take what you want. I won't fight you, please?"
Shepard jerked to attention, frowning. He turned away, trying to find something better to look at. His eyes stopped on a krogan, grunting angrily at another turian, before finding a human woman talking to an asari. Both wore the abbreviated outfits that would have been unseasonable at almost any time on Mindoir.
The asari laughed, pushing away the prone body. "I have better things to spend money on than fixing your mistakes, Kazmel. Find a way to convince me, and I'll think about it."
The body stirred, struggling to get up. Faint gurgling sounds were coming from the direction of its mouth, annoying the asari. She stopped laughing and leaned closer. "Get your dirty carcass out of my sight Kazmel. Or I'll find your daughter and let her show you how to pay off debts. Got it?" One blue hand flew back, shoulders raised …
Shepard felt the blood drain from his face, memories coming in strongly. He feigned looking at his omni-tool before addressing the lieutenant abruptly. "We need to leave. Now."
Giving him a startled look, Alenko moved, clearing the way in front of Shepard. He kept looking back at Shepard's face, then redoubling his efforts. With judicious use of his biotics, they reached the exit in record time, exiting the club less than twenty minutes after entering it.
Feeling a great relief, Shepard closed his eyes a moment, opening them to see Alenko's concerned eyes looking at him. "I'm all right, just … a lot of pressure recently."
Hesitantly, Kaiden nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly my finest moment. Some folk might be a bit … sensitive about it."
"It's nothing to worry about." Shepard said firmly. What was he talking about after the Nina bit? Must have been important if he's so apologetic now. Have to ask about it later, when he's more relaxed.
The biotic apparently took the hint, falling silent. Shepard tried to read the expression on the other man's face; his attempt failing as abysmally as he'd expected. The younger man's face was as unrecognizable to him as that of an elcor. Don't dwell on it. He consoled himself. Back to work. Which is … what right now?
Given a lack of options, Shepard decided to begin searching for Ashley.
The formidable soldier he'd met on Eden Prime was nowhere in sight, raising his concern level slightly. C-Sec was just now hauling away the bodies, or at least looking as if that action were imminent. Chellick noticed them, acknowledging their presence with a jerk of the head before returning to his work. The unconscious asari was gone, recovering in a hospital probably, and a pair of Keepers were slowly ambulating towards the gunfire-damaged walls.
Seeing the Keepers gave Shepard another sick feeling, different from what he'd felt in the Den. The green-skinned arthropods … or so they looked to be … were a nauseating, luminescent green. The tiny packs on their ventral surface clicked in time with their movements like miniature timepieces, a small receiver dish rotating in place. To his surprise, the arthropodal pair turned, advancing on him. For an instant, Shepard saw tiny jaws just below the bulbous eyes, teeth like stiletto daggers peeking out. He blinked, and none of the creatures had jaws, let alone teeth.
Then, he noticed something different. Not only where there no teeth, none of the … things … had even looked in his direction. He shook himself. You're tired, hallucinating, Shepard. They haven't changed in millennia. He squinted. All the same, it feels like they're watching me, waiting for something.
His omni-tool chirped an incoming message alert. He glanced down, then hurried to open it.
Commander,
Fun time is over, unfortunately. I got Harkin to tell me where that detective is, meet you by that alley outside C-Sec?
Chief Williams
Shepard lengthened his stride, leaving the Keepers, and their hallucinogenic attributes behind. "She got it," he called over his shoulder. He broke into a run, armor plates moving smoothly with him.
The designated position was thirty steps from the entrance of Chora's Den. Shepard paused at the sliding door, letting it hiss open without slipping through. Are there doors on everything? He considered the potential fire hazard, balanced against the vacuum protection. Tough call on a station … but this doesn't look nearly strong enough to hold against vacuum.
Ashley Williams stepped into his view. She was humming a cheerful tune, almost loud enough to cover the moaning sound coming from a bundle further back. She grinned at him, "Hey Skipper!"
Shepard checked his wrist. "Williams. Excellent. You have the information?"
The soldier drew herself upright. "Yessir. Vakarian is supposed to be picking up supplies from a Doctor Michel in the Wards, but he also has an apartment in the number Four ward." Her mouth twitched in what Shepard recognized as a suppressed motion, "Also, Mister Harkin has decided to leave drinking and skirt-chasing for the indeterminate future. Sir." Her statement was punctuated by a hollow groan from the alley at her back.
"An expensive lesson." Shepard was already accessing the Citadel network, requesting the address. "In time, he might even thank you for it." His attention re-focused on the conversation, "Bravo squad, do you copy?"
"Roger that Commander." The now-familiar Lieutenant Jørgensen's voice came in strongly.
"Send a quick-response team to Doctor Michel's Clinic in the Wards; no power armor."
"Copy that. Light assault on the way. I'm closest right now."
He tapped the earpiece. "Understood. Let me know as soon as you are there, you are looking for a turian named Garrus Vakarian, so be polite."
A laugh came back over the comm. "When haven't I?"
Shepard rolled his eyes, hiding the action by keeping his back to the two squadmates. This is a bad idea. I know it.
[break]
No one was there.
The apartment rose into the simulated sky, pretending to be a mighty edifice amongst equally false giants. While there were indeed buildings taller than the local ten story 'skyscrapers,' none truly compared with a planet-based version.
Shepard knocked on the door once more. It's funny, he thought, pushing the elevator button won't make it go any faster, nor will knocking on an empty door magically produce inhabitants. I know this, yet I fall in the same habit … something to think about.
"Doesn't look like anyone's here." Ashley commented.
Shepard gave the smooth door a rueful look. "Apparently not." He brought up the Bravo squad channel. "Lieutenant, any luck?"
There was a pause before the Jørgensen's quick voice returned. "No soap, Commander. Doctor Michel said there was a quarian, three turians and a few asari, but … ah … Vakarian isn't around."
"Blast." Shepard tapped the door again. No response. "Head over to the Embassy and wait there. If anything happens –"
"Yeah yeah," Jørgensen interrupted impatiently, "Don't worry Commander. We got your back."
He raised an eyebrow at her tone before deciding to just let it go.
The clack-stomp of boots hitting a metal floor reached his ears. Out of habit, he translated the potential walker. Flat clack, not a high-heel. Sounds like it isn't metal, not human unless a human bought local. But … it's an almost nonexistent delay between heel-toe connection, so either a turian or a quarian. Not many quarians here, so turian.
"Detective Vakarian?" Shepard asked aloud without turning.
The sound stopped, before picking up, moving closer. Now the steps were quieter, yet oddly firm, grounding their owner for sudden movement. They came to a halt a medium distance away. "That would be me."
Turning around, Shepard recognized the face. Blue streaks along the mandibular plates, diving and swooping in the customary identification for colonies established centuries before; but what was more relevant, the ones he'd studied as being major contributors in military history. From the Carthaan colony, I think. Maybe the Thracia? The two look fairly similar. There was something about this turian, however, that gave a sense of danger. He wasn't sure what exactly, but it made one feel, cautious. He couldn't help comparing it to the other turian that had practically twisted his life inside out so recently; while Nihlus had espoused dark colors, Vakarian was wearing C-Sec blue, very close to Alliance colors. The paint on the flat planes of his mandibles matched his armor's hue, giving the impression of a turian made of armor.
Shepard held out a hand. "Commander Shepard, SA Navy. Attached to the SR-1 Normandy. A pleasure."
Slowly, the turian took his outstretched hand. Extensive interaction with humans, or a devout student of inter-species interaction. Shepard considered alternatives. Or he was higher on the C-Sec totem pole than I'd thought … "If my information is correct, you were the man investigating Spectre Saren Arterius?"
Vakarian's dark eyes flashed. "I am. The Council denied your side of things, I take?"
It was odd how comfortable Shepard felt, like he was speaking with an old friend. He shelved the thought for the present. "Good and bad. My Spectre status is still possible, but Saren was cleared of all charges."
"Damn." The turian looked furious, the spines on his skull spreading slightly, a very strong reaction given their immobile nature. "Under duplex praeceps aguntur, that means he could dodge a lot of reprisal … although I'm not sure why the Council would risk repercussions like that."
Shepard translated mentally. Something like Double Jeopardy? He suddenly felt angry as well. "He's not getting away with murder, not if I have anything to say about it." Somewhat encouraged by the turian's reaction, he continued. "I've been tasked with investigating Saren's activities. I'm bringing him down for what he did to Eden Prime."
The turian's facial plates shifted, widening around his eyes. "Really? After what the Council said?" The turian's legs shifted to a wider stance, ordinarily an aggressive tone, but the majority of his weight remained farther back, a sign of approval.
A very different turian. The first I've met that takes such a cavalier tone about his superiors ... a mutant, perhaps? Forcing a casual grin, Shepard let his tone drop. "There's something about me you might need to know. Saren is a Council Spectre, but he has immunity only in Council Space. My jurisdiction lets me pursue wanted criminals … no matter where they go."
The turian's needle-shaped teeth flashed menacingly. "I like the sound of that."
Good. Shepard stood back as the detective keyed his door to open. "Will you help?"
The door slid open, and the turian made a gesture, "Please, call me Garrus. It doesn't take a brilliantly handsome detective like me to suspect we will be working together for a long time."
Not at all self-conscious. Shepard thought. This could be interesting.
A/N: The latest chapter is up and running! It took less time than I thought, although this chapter has the record for most relays between my beta and I. Over 4 shifts, if I recall correctly. Yes, there was quite a bit of foreshadowing going on here, and I needed to double-check some of my timeline sheets, ensuring everything is rolling on schedule.
Now, I wanted to let you know I replaced the first chapter with the Prologue I had intended to put there. It was originally placed in the end portion of Early Discovery, but as that is more of a supplemental work for this, I moved it to where it made more sense.
Thanks to Nightstride, for his tireless, uncomplaining efforts on this fic. It would be a much poorer, boring fic without his sterling beta skills. Thanks also to Schadenfreude, for allowing me to borrow her protagonist. Best of luck in your higher education miss!
Next update is unfortunately vague; physics test on Monday, and a Senior Seminar paper I'm working on; Scandinavian Heresies and why they never really existed. For your reading pleasure, please look for any of the afore-named authors; also, a shout out to the collab fic I've been working with F13D and Andotrota: Dawn of Titans.
Until next time folks!
