"Where we headed?" Garrus asked gregariously as he took the other pilot seat.
Shepard blinked and shook her head in consternation while the corners of her lips lifted. "You don't know where I'm going but hopped in anyway."
The Turian's piercing blue eyes slipped over to her for a moment before returning to the instrumentation. "Oh, they said something about rescuing Valern but Liara said I should get the details from you."
"Tali…should put you on a leash," she said with a pleasant smile before lifting off.
"Tried that," he replied matter of factly, "Single-handedly inflated the cost of replacement leashes so high we got complaints from the Admiralty."
Shepard huffed with amusement. "She and the kids going back to Rannoch?"
"She'd just call every five minutes, so no. They'll stay here for now so she can always get the latest."
She nodded, pleased. "Good. Liara'll love the company, too. Hopefully we won't be gone long."
"What's the plan?"
Shepard inhaled deeply and settled into a more comfortable spot, fingers lifting to scratch her forehead while she thought. "Well, looks like Tevos anticipated my help so they've set a few things in motion to get us started. Valern went missing on Sur'Kesh," she explained, "But they think the Salarian government might be behind it, so I can't just walk in the front door and expect to get their help."
Garrus motioned between the two of them, "Wait, we're supposed to go take Valern back from his own government? Bit of a tall order isn't it?"
Her eyebrows lifted and she nodded slightly in agreement. "It is. Thankfully the Salarians have internal factions just like everyone else. Clan Linron has maintained power up to now but word is they've got some pretty stiff competition."
His Avian eyes widened and his jaw plates spread. "And the enemy of our enemy…." Garrus crooned in satisfaction.
"Right. We're not going to Sur'Kesh. We're going to Mannovai."
"Never heard of it…but do we have time for this?"
"No choice," Shepard said with finality. "I've been told the Narra clan can get us the intel, support, and transportation we need."
"But why go to some backwater when we could just rendezvous on Sur'Kesh?"
Shepard sent an automated Spectre level jump slot request to Relay control; maneuvering their shuttle to the front of the long line of ships awaiting their turn to traverse the giant gateway to the Widow system.
"Apparently they're having a holiday," was her distracted response, "And the Dalatress isn't taking vid-calls."
"Figures," he grunted.
Garrus sighed wistfully as they made the jump, the view of the Serpent nebula doubtless bringing back memories. "Sure do miss rolling in here on the Normandy," he said before his head swivelled. "Hey, you think we could stop in for some of those Cora-Cora noodles? It's been years…"
The corner of Shepard's lip curled into a smile. "Sure, was gonna stop here anyway." She turned to meet his questioning gaze and said with no little excitement of her own, "Hey, I'm a Spectre again. I get all my toys back!"
Garrus simply laughed.
"You're right, though," she followed up, "We can't stay long, so keep a low profile."
"Right," he chuckled, "Like you can keep a low profile in Convergence Country."
"Oh I'm not worried about me," she said, "I'm worried about Bailey getting hold of you!"
Garrus groaned and ran his talons over his head fringe, "Crap, I forgot about that."
Shepard's eyes sparkled, "What, running C-Sec doesn't interest you? I think he's holding off on his retirement just so you can take your place behind that giant desk."
"Yeah well, I...don't really wanna talk to him about that right now."
She noticed the serious expression on his face and sobered a bit. "Something wrong?"
"Nothing wrong, but Tali and I have been discussing future plans and..well," he paused, flustered, "That's a strategic discussion. I don't need the added pressure."
Shepard blinked and scratched the itch on her forehead again, "So you really do want to run C-Sec."
His mandibles worked for a moment before he spoke, and his voice was softer, introspective. "I like to think of myself as a problem solver. It's what I do..what I've always done. Before we met I was frustrated with my job at C-Sec because I was prevented from solving problems by rules and regulations but," he turned and looked at her, "Now I've been a politician. When we all thought you were dead a few years back I was angry at a lot of people, including your old boss, Anderson, for dropping the ball. It's only now after all this time that I understand that problems are currency for politicians. They haggle and they trade the solutions to those problems but sometimes, in the end, it can't be solved just because some key person wasn't sufficiently compensated ." His eyes bored into hers before he shook his head. "Anderson couldn't get the job done because that's not how he thinks. It's not how I think."
Shepard nodded. "It was a mistake, putting him in place as the Councilor. Took me a long time to realize that."
"Oh I don't know," Garrus offered, "If he'd been on the Citadel when the Reapers attacked Earth he'd have had a much larger impact on the galaxy's response." He held up a cautious hand, "Not that he didn't have a huge impact on the ground there, too. I have tremendous respect for him, you know that."
When she nodded soberly he continued, "Anyway, I have a much better understanding of why things work the way they do now...and if were in charge of C-Sec I think I can streamline some of our processes and get back to solving problems the right way."
"Well," Shepard said fondly, "I'd hire you."
"Great," he said with a grimace, "Now I just have to convince Tali to leave her homeworld again."
Shepard turned back to the controls and got clearance for docking, murmuring, "Afraid you're on your own for that one. You want to hang out on the shuttle while I get my things? Bailey's monitors'll light up like a Christmas tree the moment you go through security."
"Sure, just get me some of those noodles?" He asked hopefully.
"No problem."
Shepard was smiling a lot at passers-by; enough that her face was hurting by the time she turned the corner, and she heaved a sigh as she was scanned and then allowed entry. Once in the cool, dark, familiar confines of the Spectre office she felt herself finally relax. She was alone as was often the case here, Spectres spending much more time in play out in the galaxy rather than in the office. She took a few minutes familiarizing herself with the new technology throughout, but eventually normalized on the new steps necessary to get her access to some of the most valuable intel in the galaxy. It never failed to please her that in many cases that data was outdated compared to Liara's. What didn't please her as much was not being able to find which Spectre had been assigned to the Tuchanka situation. It reeked of back-room deals but she couldn't be too offended, considering she was here on just such an arrangement.
She focused instead on requisitions, swiping through the latest and greatest equipment lists available to her while trying to ignore the loudly (to her) thrumming pull of the Convergence groupthink here on station. It was constant; and unlike the first time she heard the call with its bright spikes of intensity and need during the war it now had the regularity of a heartbeat, lulling and calm. It felt like waves of the ocean to her, beckoning, and in between running the latest damage numbers for ammunition at specific range or the hardiness of the latest armor versus various kinetic attacks she felt her own pulse falling into a similar rhythm.
She could feel them all around her, warm glowing embers sensed through the walls of various offices and walking down the embassy hallway. They'd all looked at her oddly as she moved through the crowded ward to get here, likely wondering why they could sense her and yet not reach her. It was the reason for all her vapid grins and nods...a reassurance provided just so she could get to her destination without being sidetracked with uncomfortable conversations.
She'd picked out the last of her equipment and was about to complete the transaction when she realized one of those presences had stopped outside the Spectre office door. She paused, turning her head to look over her shoulder even though she knew she couldn't actually see them, and heard an urgent rap on the solid metal frame. She considered ignoring the intrusion but after a moment curiosity got the better of her, so she strode to the door and opened it.
Before her was a crisply dressed man, tall enough to make her crane her head upward. Even marked with the lines of middle age she noted his dark skin, green eyes and aquiline nose before memory crashed into her present, overwhelming her with the sights, sounds and sensations of a long ago feckless youth.
"Aaron?" she asked, brows furrowed and suddenly lacking breath, "You're…..alive?"
His expression was both tender and pained, earnestness ever his signature. Those eyes glued themselves to hers before he nodded with a slight incline of his chin. "How are you, Jor?" he queried softly as if the words were something holy.
"I…" she fumbled. That name for her, the lilt of his accent, the deep familiarity of it brought a lump of nostalgia to her throat before could stop it. "Fine," she managed after a moment, "I'm fine." It took another moment for her to connect the fact that he was in the Convergence, which only served to confuse her further. "How did you?" she started, then "Did they tell you I was?" followed by a shake of her head and finally, firmly, "What can I do for you?"
"Yeah," came his answer with an amused gasp, the crooked smile on his face lighting up his eyes. " They told me," he said, the Irish clip of the consonants in his words making her smile in return. "Long time ago, in fact. I was just.." he continued, gesturing back down the hall from where he came, "Running some errands for Earthhome when I felt," he stopped and cleared his throat, "Well, when we felt you come in."
The memories hadn't stopped parading in the back of her mind while he spoke, a stark reminder of a time before the Reapers when all she had was guilt over the death of her family, anger at herself and the Batarians, and the Alliance to steady her course in life. Interspersed were all the things she did to make herself feel better in the short term; all the drugs and the alcohol and one Mr. Aaron McPhee. He'd been worldly and clever and so very very strong when she'd met him...and those just happened to be things she needed most in her life.
She realized after a second that none of the words she was considering had actually made it out of her mouth, but he thankfully took the pressure off her with his calm, confident voice. "Listen, wouldn't normally have bothered you but you should probably come with me before you make any changes in the Spectre database."
There, that was normal. Expected. Her mind and mouth started working again. "Okay, why?"
He looked around before motioning down the hall, so she obliged and fell into step with him, the door sliding shut behind. He spoke in a low, bored tone and she supposed it was for the benefit of anyone who might be watching. "Given the potential risk of diplomatic incident on your current task, we think it prudent that as few people know of your involvement as possible, other Spectres included."
Shepard blinked and answered back in the same bored tone, "I need Spectre grade from requisitions."
"I can get that for you. Where're you docked?"
"E64," she said before looking sideways at his profile. "Your vocabulary's had a pretty big upgrade since the last time we talked."
He tilted his head with that same cocky grin, nonplussed, "Yeah? Well you've done pretty well for yourself, too."
She kept her expression as neutral as possible while her emotions raced. "How the hell did you get mixed up in all this?" she motioned around them to the Citadel bulkheads, "Last I heard you were slinging narcotics out of Binthu."
He shook his head slightly, "Trade ran out pretty quick once Cerberus moved in and took up all the likely bases. Strange people, them Cerbs," he joked, "Immune to my shining persuasion."
He looked at her and she looked at him and she knew he returned to his old vernacular just for her. The whole situation struck her...that here and now, so far away, she could for a moment feel like the 18 year old she'd been on that deployment; feel that hardened innocence that had her dabbling in everything she shouldn't so she could, just for a moment, be in control of her own chaos.
Didn't take much to put 2 and 2 together as far as he was concerned, though. "You were smuggling on the god-damned Citadel," she remarked in shock.
Aaron huffed, his perfect mask breaking, "Not my proudest moment but god's truth, the money was good while it lasted."
"Who you working for now?"
"Officially, I'm working for C-Sec," he smirked.
"With that background?" she demanded a bit louder than she should've. At his warning look she calmed with a quick inhalation and scratched at the damn itch on her forehead.
"Who better to combat smuggling than the guy who knows the cracks in the armor?" After seeing the derisive look on her face, he added, "It's not like there's a trust issue, is there?"
Not with him being in the Convergence. He was right. She nodded slowly and asked, "Is there someplace private we can talk?"
"Course," he said amicably. "This way."
They took a left and went through a couple winding corridors before stepping into a small unused office with no view.
"What's on your mind?" he asked while taking a seat on the edge of the lone desk.
"To be honest I'd like to grab a drink and catch up but I have zero time."
"I know you've got to go," he acknowledged, "And I hope you don't mind that it was me that approached you. I was close-by and just wanted to see you."
"No, don't mind at all," she said, her lips curling into a smile. "I honestly had no idea you'd made it."
"Well you would've, if you'd just shared," he laughed. "They don't know how stubborn you are, though, do they?" He winked at her, full of memory and a smidge of offered promise. "Not like I do."
"Eh.." she chuckled, flattered; but held up her left hand with wedding band firmly attached.
He shrugged with that same alluring grin as if to say he had to try; that he'd always try.
She considered him for a fond second, pursing her lips. "Why'd you stay?" Then, to clarify, "In the Convergence, I mean."
"You mean beyond having a normal life not spent ducking the authorities, with a decent paycheck and benefits? Well…" He put his hands behind him on the desk to prop himself up while he chewed his lip, then looked directly at her. "The experience is actually pretty great."
"I guess I just never pegged you as one for community engagement," she quipped, eyes searching his.
"Oh I'd be lying if I said it was all easy," he admitted. "To have every part of yourself and everything you've ever done available for inspection by anyone at a moment's notice? The good and the bad?" He shook his head. "I guess what sets in after awhile is that literally everyone's done similar kinds of things, you know? You realize on a really deep level that they're simply…." he chewed his lip for a moment, "A response to stimuli. Once the guilt goes away you just..don't do most of that stuff anymore. It's not necessary."
"Not necessary?" Shepard followed up, "So do you only do things that are approved by the group?"
"We're not automatons, if that's what ya mean," he said, a hand reaching up to stroke his chin, "I still do some stupid things but the difference is there's no need for explanation. When I go tie one on or have a legendary night at Flux nobody questions it. They know all the reasons behind it and understand without me having to cover anything up."
She must have had a suspicious look in her eye because he gestured with that same hand to explain before putting it back on the desk. "There's no gossip, no…lies or manipulation of any kind. Can you imagine that?" he asked with wonder, "What a better world that is?"
"I believe you," she said evenly. "But what happens when someone does something serious?" Shepard asked with concern. "I know the Convergence has killed people to protect themselves. Where's the line drawn?"
Aaron's face crinkled in amusement. "If you're wanting a breakdown of Convergence jurisprudence we're definitely going to need that drink."
Shepard nodded with a wry grin. "Look, I know I'm springing all this on you," she admitted. "It's just...this is really important to me and I need to understand what the Convergence has become," Her eyes sparkled before she continued, "In 30 words or less."
They both chuckled and Aaron tilted his head, daunted. "Oh boy, okay. Short version. There's only one rule, and that's not to talk about us. If you plan or commit a crime that could put you in a position where you might talk about us is when we take action; and our first step is to work with you on the problem. Violence is literally the last option. Otherwise you go through the normal judicial system and we'll do our best to assist you within reason. We take care of our own, and it's not like you'll lack for work once you get out of detention, so there's no financial pressure for you to flip." He sucked on his bottom lip, eyes calculating before he spoke again. "The bottom line is...we're family. There's no problem we can't handle together. I know it seems like this radical sort of…. thing because it's so different than what you're used to. But when you're actually in it," he smiled brightly, "It's just a new kind of freedom."
"Way more than 30 words," she joked to his smirk, "But thank you. That helps."
"I wouldn't steer you wrong, love," he said, standing up and straightening his uniform. "That's obviously just a very small part of the whole, though. If you ever decided to share with me for more...I wouldn't say no."
She dropped her eyes in conflicted thought, memories of the pain caused by the Illusive Man and Saracino far overshadowing any good she recalled. She never stayed, though; never spent quiet time with the millions of others that meant harm to none. What did she know, really?
"I'll keep it in mind," she said quietly before straightening. "For now, I need my equipment."
"Then let's get that sorted," he said with a businesslike stride to the door. Before he opened it, he paused and turned to look at her. "Eh..this is gonna sound a bit daft," he said with a bit of embarrassment, "But… I'm proud of you, Jor. Damned proud."
It'd been a long time and she'd had much larger-than life mentors to emulate since their youthful relationship, but the praise made her feel warm anyway.
"Thanks," she said sincerely before smiling. "I owe you a drink."
As their shuttle approached the gas-giant named Haleguese, its HUD targeted one of the tiny diamond-glittering moons in orbit. It didn't bother Shepard at all for the moment that she couldn't actually see Sur'Kesh, floating somewhere behind Pranas' shining presence. Out of sight, out of mind for now, as far as she was concerned.
Mannovai was an outer moon, as far from the giant's roasting magnetosphere as one could hope but with outposts still heavily shielded and partially underground. She'd visited many moons with shielded installations over the years and was expecting more of the same; so she was surprised by the two massive rings surrounding the satellite at intersecting angles that grew into view. The closer they got, the more apparent it became that they were artificial and inhabited. Very...inhabited. The sheer amount of traffic moving in and around them as they spun around the moon was head and shoulders above the volume actually going to and from the surface. It was clear that the vast majority of the population of Mannovai was in the rings, themselves.
"Now ain't that somethin'," Garrus muttered from his seat, sharing her curiosity with a tilt of his head before tapping at his panel with interest.
The moon itself was surrounded by clouds, no part of the surface visible to space. There were clusters of lights glowing dimly beneath them in places, along with some telltale terraforming towers peeking out of the murk at uniform distances from one another.
Shepard followed the shuttle's guidance path to bring them beside and at the same speed the closest ring was turning. When that settled into something appearing normal she was directed to a landing bay.
While performing maneuvers, between the crowded flylanes and tight corridors, Garrus straightened in his chair, eyes incredulously wide when his head turned to her. "Did you know there's over a billion Salarians living in these rings?"
"What?" she exclaimed while trying to focus on her landing on the large open flight deck. "That can't be right."
The Turian kept reading, then hummed in understanding. "Says here these platforms are 5 kilometers wide and the circumference of the moon is 11,500 kilometers. There's also two rings so….." He did the math in his head, a claw coming to his lips in thought. "Oh, can't forget the orbital distance factor which makes the true circumference about.." He glanced over to see her smirking while he mathed out loud. "What?" he protested.
"Nothing," she replied, the smirk abiding while she shut the shuttle down. "I'm actually impressed."
Garrus hmphed. "Now where was I?" he muttered to himself before snapping his fingers. "Right, so roughly 12,500 times 5 times 2 is 125,000 square kilometers of real estate up here. That's...amazing."
"Pretty dense population, still," Shepard countered, but not without grudging respect. "I'm guessing we won't be seeing much greenspace."
Her Spectre credentials came in handy once again in customs and the pair bypassed hundreds of waiting Salarians, eliciting groans of frustrated envy but also the occasional gasp and hurried whisper of recognition. There was no hiding her galactically broadcast profile or her bright shock of red hair in a place like this. Should have brought my damn hoodie after all, she admonished herself, and pulled up the collar of her coat as high as she could manage without tearing the fabric.
Thankfully they weren't pelted with foreign objects like she'd feared and managed to turn the corner toward the exit without incident. She glanced sideways at her friend and Garrus grimaced in what passed for an encouraging smile when they heard a call behind them. She stiffened and turned with a tightened jaw to see several of their host race jogging to catch up, one of them waving frantically.
"Shepard?" Another of them repeated in a decidedly female voice as she approached, "Jordan Shepard?"
She sighed and waited for the group to arrive, putting on her most diplomatic smile. "I'm Shepard," she confirmed.
The female before her was dressed elaborately for a Salarian, with colorful robes and several shining bands rising up from her shoulders and around her throat, accentuating the graceful length of it. Unlike most of the Dalatresses Shepard had previously encountered, her skin was smooth and unmarred with wrinkles or scars. She was clearly very young.
"I am Narra Irrum," she said breathlessly, "I'm here to take you to the Dalatress."
"Narra," Shepard repeated thoughtfully. "Are you related to her?"
"She is my mother," Irrum said, smiling.
One of the males stepped forward, his manner protective, "We have a skycar waiting, if you'll come with us."
With a nod, she and Garrus fell into step with them.
Irrum folded her hands as she walked. "I'd like to apologize on behalf of the Dalatress for the formalities you've encountered. We are celebrating Schaklass Day, a holiday the Narra clan holds especially dear."
Shepard swallowed the sense of urgency dogging her steps and answered politely, "We thank the Dalatress for taking time out of her schedule and sending her own daughter to meet us. I hope we'll be able to speak with her soon."
"Oh the pleasure is mine," the young woman said with a twinkle in her eyes, "I volunteered to come find you."
Her eyes widened at that, and she stole another look at Garrus before clearing her throat. "Is that so?"
"It is," she confirmed. "You've been rather elusive the last few years and I've always wanted to ask you a question."
All the conversations with reporters she'd ever spoken to came back to her then, and all their loaded questions. She'd always taken time to prepare for those interviews since the end of the war, to ensure her answers were as calculated as their queries inevitably were, but here she was, flatfooted. Hopefully the Salarian's youth meant the interest was a vacuous one, but she focused tightly against whatever was about to come her way.
"Go ahead," she murmured as neutrally as possible, but they'd arrived at the car and paused long enough to load inside, with Shepard and Garrus in the back and the diminutive Salarian in between them. Three discreetly armed males sat across from them, watching intently for any sign of aggression while the last of them drove in the front. Garrus nodded agreeably to the trio to make doubly sure everyone was in a relaxed mood before she began.
"While as a Spectre your responsibilities were for the preservation of the galaxy as a whole, you've spent a large part of your life defending the Alliance, Earth and humanity against anyone who would hurt them. You care for your people a great deal, correct?"
Shepard's brow furrowed and she tilted her head slightly. "Of course I do."
Irrum's expression softened with care and curiosity. "And yet in all the stories I've read about you, never once has it been mentioned that you went back to your own homeworld, despite the ceremonies they've held there in your honor. Why is that?"
The question surprised her and she was silent, not really knowing how to answer or if she even should. Even Garrus was looking at her with interest, though whether it was in her answer or her reaction she couldn't guess. "You seem to have done your research," she answered weakly, buying her a few seconds to think.
The Salarian girl nodded before adding, "I apologize if the question is too personal. To our people, birthplace and bloodline is at the center of who we are, so I'm simply curious why you seem to be avoiding them both."
"I can see why that might seem strange to you," Shepard answered after a moment of consideration. She didn't want to go into the politics of the thing; the fact that so many groups wanted to use her as a banner for their causes or beliefs or that the Mindoiran government had proven no different. "In our culture if you're born on a colony you can either be nationalistic about it or accept that you're just one of many people that came from many different places to start fresh. It's a fairly new colony, so because everyone I ever knew there died, my entire bloodline as you call it, I don't feel much of a tie to the place; but that's not a jab at the people who've built their lives there, the people who love their home. Does that make sense?"
"It does," she said softly, "Our clan has been here on Mannovai for so long it's difficult to think of it as anything but a permanent home, but that hasn't always been so."
Shepard nodded and scratched at her forehead before continuing. "To be fair, I do need to go back. I'll just wait until my daughter's a little older."
Irrum's eyes widened excitedly, "So she's been born! When?"
Relieved at the change of subject as well as the Salarian's apparent enthusiasm, she spoke animatedly about Athena's birth and first few days while they flew down the interior of the ring toward their destination. Turned out she was right about the general environment within them. The rings, as far as she could tell, were mostly industrial complexes interspersed with the living communities that supported them.
Gone was the lush foliage and low lying swamps of the Salarian homeworld; they'd made little effort to duplicate that environment here. At the same time, they had taken steps to soften the starkness of their habitat. The residential areas didn't rise as high as she would've expected, preserving a feeling of openness, and there was flora growing liberally on every available surface for beauty and scent. The skyglass was pointed toward the moon's surface, surprisingly, though there was a respectable view of Haleguese looming over Mannovai at present, it's size probably making it a frequent part of the starscape. When the terraforming was done and the moon became someplace that could actually sustain life it would be a beautiful vista.
Their skycar turned abruptly to one of the more ornate set of structures in sight, with buildings of various heights clustered around an open park. Shepard could see hundreds of people gathered there before the car settled down just outside of view.
"Welcome to Eeldich University!" Irrum declared brightly, and to her surprised pleasure Shepard could find no hint of deception in her face or words. "Come with me," she added as her attendants exited the car and held open the door for them. "My mother will be excited to see you."
Shepard certainly hoped so.
Most of the attendees were young, like Irrum, but that seemed normal as they were in a university. What was strange (although not so strange again, she realized, being in a university) were the clothing fashions. Most of the Salarians Shepard had dealt with previously had been soldiers, dignitaries and scientists. These were college age children, mostly male as their population was usually represented, and the clothing was varied and colorful, with wild accenting jewelry. There were even hats...oddly shaped hats that would have fallen off a normal head but stayed in place by hanging on the pair of cartilaginous horns all Salarians possessed.
Faces froze and conversations stopped around them as they made their way across the crowded fete, followed by a wake of whispers behind. The disturbance was noticed by a small number of Salarians at the top of a tall set of stairs, ending in an oversized set of doors into the great hall at the center of the university. They turned as one, with a female in the more recognizable hooded dress of a Dalatress moving forward with a hand outstretched in greeting.
The old habits pivoted Shepard's head around defensively one last time before she began to ascend; but the comforting weight of her sidearm paired with the shadow of Garrus to her left helped prop up the diplomatic smile flagging on her cheeks.
"Plotting your escape already?" Garrus crooned with a note of amusement, "You've never been one for small-talk, I'll admit, but I don't think it'll kill you."
"Well," she said with a slow exhalation, "We're on a space station, so we can rule out 'Weather' as a topic."
"And we've already met the fam," Garrus replied with a voice lowering in volume as they neared the top, "So I guess we're primed to dive right into politics and religion?"
"Perfect," she said brightly before accepting the Dalatress' hand.
"Jordan Shepard," the Salarian leader said in a smooth tenor that reverberated through speakers all around the park, "I am Dalatress Narra. We welcome you to Mannovai!"
The sound of hundreds of Salarian voices cheering, some even chanting her name, was startling. She turned her gaze to look over the crowd and lifted her other hand in a wave of acknowledgement before looking at Narra again. Knowing her words would likely be heard, though she didn't know immediately how, she chose them carefully.
"It's an honor to be here, Dalatress. Thank you for your kind invitation."
Narra turned toward the upturned faces of her supporters and lifted her hands as if in supplication to the sky. "Dalatress Schaklass gave her life to heal the fractures within her clan and ensure that her people could live in peace and prosperity. We honor her sacrifice by giving gifts to one another in friendship." The Salarian turned her dark jeweled eyes to look at Shepard once more. "You, too, have sacrificed much for unity. Your presence here is a gift to me , Shepard. Schaklass' peace be upon you."
"Peace be upon you!" Shouted the crowd in unison.
This was a new generation of Salarians, it dawned upon her suddenly. They were probably only 10-15 years old...and while that equalled maturity for their species, some of them could very well have been too young to clearly remember the war or the details of her actions in it. They were honestly and legitimately welcoming her here, and the realization was like the first cool breeze of fall after a blistering summer.
They were looking at her now, all of them, with expectation. She fumbled through her thoughts, trying to think of something, anything to say to express the hope she felt. Despite all the years and all the memories, good and bad, the old words still came back to her lips like reflex.
"And also with you," she said earnestly, and the crowd cheered.
Narra, for her part, smiled graciously then nodded to her compatriots before inviting the pair into the great hall. There, among the towering heights of molded plasticrete, her expression became more serious.
"Your timing is good. I had doubts you would come," she said without preamble.
Tevos' briefing hadn't mentioned any personal interest by the Dalatress, so she responded with a neutral, "Oh?"
The Salarian turned her hooded head to regard her, and she blinked her large eyes once, slowly. "You've been reticent to involve yourself in politics since you withdrew from society. I certainly didn't expect you to take an interest in our internal squabbles."
Shepard's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid you've been misinformed. I'm only here to find Valern."
"Yes," Narra said musingly, "I'm aware." The Dalatress motioned to one of her aides with a flick of her wrist, and the male turned and disappeared into a side room. "While the goal is a noble one," she continued with a grave nod of her head, "The situation is more complicated than you may realize."
"You have intelligence on Valern's location, correct?"
"Correct," she intoned, watching Shepard patiently.
The Spectre glanced over at Garrus, who shrugged amicably. To Narra she said, "What's complicated about that?"
The door where Narra's aid disappeared opened once again and a familiar figure in fine clothing came into view.
"Hello, Shepard," he said, striding toward her while she tried to place where she knew him.
Garrus' eyes widened, "Rentola, right?" he asked, claw pointed questioningly. "You served with Kirrahe in the 3rd STG."
"Garrus Vakarian. I'm impressed," Rentola murmured, looking at Shepard as if to say he knew she hadn't remembered. He stopped before them, folding his hands at his waist. "Colonel Kirrahe sends his regards."
"Consider them returned," Shepard said gruffly. "But if STG is aware of the situation, why am I here?"
"STG doesn't normally involve itself in political disputes," Rentola said with a trace of bitterness, though he studiously kept his eyes on Shepard while Narra glared at him. "Valern's kidnapping, however, if that's what it is, crosses a line that cannot be ignored. It is, in fact, the lack of intelligence that STG possesses that is most concerning, and indicates that the perpetrator may have assistance from within STG, itself."
"And you need an impartial 3rd party to referee," Shepard added, lips twitching.
"All that we require," He corrected her sternly, "Is the stalemate broken." He shook his head slightly in disapproval. "I don't mean to disparage your accomplishments, Spectre, but your calling card is chaos, as I saw firsthand on Virmire. What we need is someone who will break protocol so we don't have to."
The anger that blossomed at his words brought the memory of him back, now; sullen and resentful every step of the way, even in victory. "Virmire was a success, despite the losses we both suffered," She rebutted, "And it was the result of a plan agreed upon by both parties…"
"We sustained 77 percent losses…" He hissed over her.
Garrus stepped forward as if to intervene, but Shepard raised a calming hand to him and turned once again to the Salarian while Narra looked on.
"Everyone on that beach knew the odds," She said quietly. "And I don't think your math includes how many lives we potentially saved that day."
He was silent for a moment, blinking rapidly in thought.
"Look, I get that you don't like me," She said without rancor. "And that's okay, but the bottom line is we have a Salarian life to save." Shepard waited until his eyes focused on hers before continuing. "Can you help me do that?"
Rentola looked between her and Narra and appeared to reach a conclusion, straightening and nodding once. "I….can."
Shepard nodded too, then glanced between both of the Salarians before her. "Good. So what are we looking at?"
"It will come as no surprise to you that we oppose Linron leadership," Narra began. "We've been enemies for generations...but that's not what this issue is about. It's about vision. They were wrong about the Genophage, wrong about the Reapers, wrong to withhold our military assistance in the war, and doubly wrong to attack Tuchanka while the rest of us were risking our lives for each other. They've been duplicitous for so long I don't believe they know how to act otherwise...and it's all to maintain power. I suspect Valern stumbled on something he shouldn't, and that's why he disappeared."
Shepard hoped that's all it was. "Dalatress Linron's been missing for years," She said confusedly, "Who's calling the shots for them these days?"
"We've been searching for the Dalatress and the fleet that went with her for a very long time. They finally declared her MIA 18 months ago. Their clan has been run by a committee of the highest ranking females since that time while they determine the next leader," Renkola explained. "I suspect the method is also being used to screen any one person from accountability for the clan's actions until they are ready to defend her."
"The Salarian people elect their leaders, I thought."
Narra rotated a hand and spoke, "We elect our clan leaders, who then form a representative government."
"So why is Linron's clan still in charge?"
Renloka hmphed, "While there may be some doubt about their decision-making, there can be no doubt about their political prowess. They've tied up the proceedings with every bureaucratic and legal loophole they could find."
Narra added on with a gleam in her eyes. "It's only a matter of time before the government declares a vote of no-confidence, though. A vote that will come to pass all the swifter if proof can be found of their malfeasance."
Of course, Shepard thought. It all made sense, now. Narra no doubt expected Shepard's personal grievances with Linron to 'encourage' her conclusions.
"Dalatress Narra," Shepard began, "While I am, without a doubt, sympathetic to the case you've laid out, I'm not here to topple the Linron regime. I'm only here to find former Councilor Valern, alive or otherwise, and bring information about the circumstances of his disappearance to the Galactic Council."
While Narra's expression soured at the accusation, Rentola's brightened unexpectedly.
"Of course. I wasn't expecting more," She said with a sniff. "I wanted you to be fully informed, that's all."
"Then we're good," She said with a smile that she hoped took the sting out of it all. She turned to Rentola. "Can you outline for me why you believe Linron's forces might have taken him?"
The male seemed suddenly keener to help, but she wasn't sure if it was because she'd shown she could be impartial or simply because she'd snubbed Narra. She'd have to be careful with him.
"The city in which he disappeared, Talat, is a Linron stronghold. Not much happens there of which they aren't aware. STG's orders also come from the sitting government...Linron's...so it's entirely possible that they are covering up the event in the name of governmental security." He watched her eyes squinch, then added with a calming twitch of his fingers, "And they may believe they are performing within the line of duty while doing so."
"Rentola," Shepard intoned carefully, "You're in STG. Why are you helping me at all?"
"If our good name is being sullied purely for political reasons it should be stopped," he said firmly, "No matter what the law might say about it." He took a quick breath, releasing it before adding in a tremulous voice, "Also...Kirrahe asked me to assist you."
She wanted to call them out for not giving a single fuck about Valern, but chose to ask a question instead. "I assume you have a plan?"
"Of course," They both said at the same time, and Rentola swung a hand toward the door he'd originally come from.