A/N: Sorry to be so late. House sold, being demolished, to my eternal chagrin. Have under two weeks to get out and salvage anything...yes, over Christmas...and the house we had thought to buy is 25% overpriced for the market, so we have to pack as if moving out of state. It's as bad as it sounds, and it's going to be an awkward few weeks here; I will likely be late again with Chapter 24. But stay tuned; I'm overdue, not MIA.
*** Conrad Verner ***
A Citadel Taxis skycar settled onto the landing zone near the upper markets; a human and a quarian stepped out and walked along the vendor stands.
Shepard looked briefly toward Tali as they walked. "You weren't really serious about that 'sleeping on a crate' thing, were you?"
"Well, only partly. I mean, where else would I sleep? It's not my ship, and you're not quarian. I don't know how your people...um…handle such things."
"Normally, contractors are berthed on a larger ship," Shepard explained. "But Normandy is so new, we're just lousy with CHA contractors and engineers. This was a shakedown flight, or it was supposed to be." He stopped, thinking about what the Captain must have known before they even left the shipyard.
They were only a few paces from a vendor's stall that his VI had identified as potentially having a relatively large selection of quarian armor. As his ARO displayed this on a callout, a volus to his left said, "Best place on this ward to buy upgrades. Prices are pretty good here."
Meanwhile, Shepard's ARO had polled DisplaiD and added a callout to the volus merchant in the stall: Expat.
Expat's suit VI informed him he had just been identified, so he turned and extended his arms to the visitor in the traditional vol-clan welcome. "Hello, Earth-clan. No doubt you've just come back from the colonies. Will you be needing supplies?"
Shepard tapped his armor. "This is Alliance armor, not a colonial c-suit. What colonies are you talking about?"
"Oh. My mistake, Earth-clan. I assumed…" Looking quickly at the quarian and then back to the human, Expat inhaled, interrupted himself, "Ah, it doesn't matter. Feros? Noveria? If you haven't heard of them, you will soon. But it doesn't matter where you hail from. [rasp] My goods are available to all."
While the volus was speaking, Shepard's ARO had scrolled up a list of notifications:
Civilian contractor approved.
Berthing and equipment TBD, MFO Gomez notified
Logistics confirms update, consumables updated for +1 Crew
He gestured at the interface, acknowledging the approval, but realizing he would need to be sure they had dextro rations. To keep the volus talking while he texted the modification, Shepard asked, "Okay, why would I know about Feros?"
"It's an old Prothean world. Their buildings still litter the surface. [rasp] The humans aren't the first to colonize it, but they are the most recent. Hmm...I just realized I haven't heard from my contact on that planet for some time. [rasp] Ah, well. I'm sure he's fine."
"And what's so unusual about Noveria?"
"The corporate capital of the Attican Traverse. Very cold. Very snowy. [rasp] I don't get too many clients from there. They have all their own…private suppliers."
To Shepard's surprise, the reply came back immediately: D. Gomez: Yes, sir. Dextro ration feedstock added to resupply.
"Hm. I'll keep that in mind if I ever get there. But for now, I'd like to see some quarian armor."
Tali turned to the volus as if expecting a refusal, or profession that he had none.
Instead, the short, rotund alien put his hands behind his back. "Ah. Unfortunately, that will mean adding to the suit's weight unless you get an integrated set."
Gesture implies genuine apology, Shepard's ARO informed him.
Expat continued, "That sort of armor couture will probably be available only through a Maker. You may need to check at the Emporium on the Presidium."
The volus shopper had waddled over to the stall. "Have you been to the Emporium up on the Presidium? It's really expensive." He turned to Shepard with a rasp, "I suggest you try the markets down the stairs one level if you can't find what you're looking for."
As a way of getting his attention, Tali stepped closer to Shepard without touching him. "You don't need to do that. If you can get armor my size, I can integrate it myself while we're underway."
"An excellent idea," added the volus, "but technically challenging."
"I can do it," Tali said confidently.
Shepard leaned forward on the counter. "Okay, show me what you've got."
"Most excellent. I am sure you will find something pleasing."
A kiosk rose from the countertop, with five sets of quarian armor scrolling across its holographic face. Shepard touched one to stop the scrolling, rotated the kiosk so Tali could see and reach it easily. "Okay, this is what's available here. You've got a nine thousand credit budget. What sort of gear do you want?"
Tali interacted with the kiosk holograph, comparing prices, capabilities, and specifications. Her mind reeled. This alien was about to gift her a 9000 credit suit of armor, just because. "Well, the Survivor looks like the best performer. It's also several times what I have to spend."
"Oh…" rasped the volus, "I'm sorry. It defaults to the highest-priced options. If you touch the price, it will display all the available levels."
Tali touched the holo, studied it for a moment, and swiped through the choices. One of her VIs tagged the kiosk with a callout and offered its analysis and recommendation. Tali pointed, "It looks like the Survivor-VI doesn't offer as good in tech and biotics protection, but I think I can mod it to perform a little better. What I can't do is up the protection. For the money, the Survivor still looks best." She looked at the volus, pointed at the kiosk display. "Colouration is just a marketing ploy, isn't it?"
[rasp] "That's right. Devlon brand their armor as any smart company would. [rasp] But you can upgrade to customize the colour scheme. [rasp] And it sounds like you want to modify the armor yourself. [rasp] Be careful your modifications don't void the warranty."
Tali cocked her head. "You're joking, right? No one that it fails to protect will live to file a claim."
"I still advise against it, young one. [rasp] Better ten times hurt than one time killed. [rasp] But let me make another suggestion that may make it unnecessary." The volus inhaled very noisily, then continued, "If you buy or upgrade a weapon, I'll throw in [rasp] an armor upgrade of one class."
Shepard asked Tali, "You're carrying a shotgun and a pistol, aren't you?"
She produced them instantly, held them up proudly. "A Storm-V and a Stiletto-IV. Oh wait…" She regarded the shotgun as if seeing it for the first time, "I traded the Storm for a Scimitar-III."
"Not much of a shotgun user, myself," Shepard admitted, "but that sounds like an upgrade."
"Yes it is," Tali agreed, "the Scimitar is a better shotgun, and Elkoss generally has better design."
Shepard addressed Expat, "If I upgrade two weapons, will you put two upgrades on the armor?"
The volus gestured in the air before him, manipulating an interface only he could see. He looked from the weapons to the kiosk, and then to Tali. "I'm glad to hear you're already a satisfied customer, [rasp] and I'd like to encourage you to keep using Elkoss Combine's fine equipment, so…[gulp, rasp] we have a deal, Earth-clan." He reached up to take the weapons, placed them into a compartment in the wall behind him and closed the door. "My staff will require a few minutes to perform the upgrades," he wheezed. "You are welcome to continue shopping, or if you're hungry, [gasp] there is an Earth-clan feeding store nearby."
Shepard's ARO asked him to approve the three purchases. As he did, he asked the volus, "Is there a place that sells quarian food?"
Tali flinched; she nearly jumped. "No," she interrupted. "Nobody sells quarian food except other quarians. Only aboard the flotilla. Most people think quarians and turians eat the same food, but we don't. At least not unless we have to. Turians are predators, they're carnivorous. But their food has the same chirality, and this causes the confusion. If I eat your food, it has about as much nutrition as…plastic."
"That's true," Expat nodded as he looked up from his sales interface. "Oh! Earth-clan, [rasp] you are…a Spectre?"
"I am. I didn't realize how fast that news would travel."
"If it were news yet, I would know it," the volus inhaled as he waved to his left at a display on his HUD. "But your e-sig makes it clear." As he inhaled, he turned toward Tali and then back. "Did you not know, Earth-clan?"
Shepard lit his omnitool, dug into a menu and checked his signature data. The ERC waveforms matched, but were subtly there was an additional string appended to the header. He squinted at the ARO's information, brushed it aside, and checked the actual signature. "Oh, I knew, all right. But you saw it in my ID, right?"
Tali seemed doubtful. "Yes, well...anyone can claim to be a Spectre, but if you really are, your e-sig will have the Citadel authenticator taglet," she explained. "Not everyone knows to look for it. But if it's there, open it and look for the designation."
Shepard knew how to validate his own e-sig, but had not looked at it in weeks, certainly not since leaving the Council Chambers.
Seal of the Citadel Council, read the expanded electronic signature. The motion graphic cycled through its animated loop: Spectre Agent 11259375. Active. Certification Validated, Citadel Council. Approved. Seal of the Citadel Council…
He nodded slowly. "Looks like it's official," he said.
Expat turned sideways and extended a stubby arm. "Congratulations, Earth-clan, and [rasp] thank you for choosing Expat's for your first purchases as a Spectre."
Chuckling to himself, and slightly surprised, Shepard reached down and shook the three-fingered hand. "Thank you…uh…and you're welcome."
The volus seemed barely able to contain himself; Shepard noticed a brief tremble in the exosuited merchant. "However, you may still wish to visit the requisitions Officer at the C-Sec Academy. [rasp] They will have exotic equipment that I simply do not have access to."
Shepard recalled Captain Anderson saying something like that right after their last meeting with the Council. "What's the best way to get there?"
The volus quivered subtly and pointed toward the taxi stand. "Public Transit will take you right there. [rasp] I would be very honored if you would bring any [gasp] recovered equipment to me. [rasp] I can get you excellent finder's fees and salvage rates."
"Hm…I'll keep that in mind." Shepard waved a thumb over his shoulder and looked at Tali. "You want to go shopping while he's baking?"
Looking quickly from the human to the volus and back, Tali seemed briefly at a loss. "Um…sure!"
Before they could turn away for the taxi, they heard a gasp. "It's you!"
Shepard's ARO put a callout on someone out of his field of view to the right; as he turned his head, the highlight label slid into view: Conrad Verner.
A lanky, blond-haired man was just approaching from the stairs. "I thought it was you when you ran by here before with your weapons out. You and that C-Sec officer and some of your soldiers." He turned and pointed behind himself to the top of the stairs. "I figured you had to come back, so I waited right there…and you came back!"
Turning to face Shepard again, eyes wide, he continued, "You're Commander Shepard, the hero of Eden Prime," he took a hesitating step closer. "I am so honored to meet you!" He seemed at a loss to know what to do, bowed his head.
Shepard extended a hand, which was instantly seized and shaken vigorously. "Nice to meet you. And you are…?"
"My name is Conrad. Conrad Verner." He grinned almost maniacally, raising a clenched fist. "On Darhurst, they say you killed over a hundred geth on Eden Prime!"
"Geth are synthetic," Tali interrupted, "They're not alive to kill."
Shepard shook his head. "I spent most of my time trying to stay alive and help the colonists. And Darhurst tends to exaggerate to get more viewers."
"Hey, I know you're probably busy, but do you have time for a quick autograph?" He offered a datapad.
Shepard took the pad, waited for his VI to approve it, and then signed in the available rectangle. "Anything for a fan." He handed the datapad back, "Here."
"Thanks, I really appreciate it. My wife is going to be so impressed!" Holding the pad in both hands, he grinned at it, and then looked up at the Commander. "I'll let you get back to work." He started to turn away, then stopped suddenly and added, "But next time you're on Earth, I'd love to buy you a drink." He looked at the datapad again and started down the stairs. "Thanks again!"
Shepard watched the other man dash off. He shook his head, smiling to himself. "You never know what's around the next corner."
As they started for to the taxi stand again, Shepard said over his shoulder, "Thanks, mister Expat."
"You are most welcome, Earth-clan!"
Tali watched…and kept her thoughts to herself.
# # #
Waiting until they were safely sealed in the relative privacy of a taxi, Tali twiddled her fingers for a moment before she asked, "Um…did you understand why that vendor was sending you to C-Sec?"
Shepard turned toward the quarian as the skycar cruised the narrow corridor; neon Cherenkov and ultramarine shapes flashed past the window beyond. He speculated, "Trying to make nice with the new Spectre?"
Tali shrugged, "Yes, that's true, but really he's trying to get the latest tech, weapons, and armor. Spectre agents have access to things that nobody else does. He's hoping you'll sell him yours as you wear it out. Or as you get it. But he had to be kind of indirect about it."
"Hm." Shepard was going to say that it was unlikely that would happen, but his ARO displayed,
D. Anderson: When you have a few minutes, can you come to the embassy? I've been talking with the ambassador and the Joint Chiefs, and we've got some planning to do.
Touching his left thumb to forefinger, Shepard subvocalized, Will an hour be okay, sir?
D. Anderson: Sure, that'll be fine. You find your way to the Spectre Office?
Not yet, sir. I'm on my way there with the quarian.
There was no reply as the taxi descended next to a column of windows that looked like an office building; an elevator ascended past them. The taxi settled to the ground with a thump; Shepard and Tali were exiting the skycar when Anderson's reply came in:
D. Anderson: You'll probably need a couple of hours at the Spectre Office. This isn't just a "pick up your gun and badge" thing. But since the closest Spectre Office is at the Academy, you might want to walk the quarian aboard Normandy and then return to visit the Spectre Office. There will be some business to handle, and it will take some time. Tell Draven to accommodate the quarian like the contractors, and get her set up while you're away. I want as many of those CHA contractors off the ship as possible. Then come see me at the embassy.
Shepard touched his left index finger to thumb, illuminating his omnitool gauntlet as a social cue before realizing the alien might not quite understand. "Uh…right. Change of plans," he said.
Tali had been gazing around the C-Sec Academy atrium, but turned to look at him when he spoke.
"Captain Anderson says I should get you aboard first; it looks like the rest of my day just got eaten up with other stuff." He pointed at the vertical glass tube at the center of the atrium. "Fortunately, the elevator is right here."
"What about my weapons and armor?"
"Skipper said to get you aboard, berthed, recognized by security, and so on." He shrugged. "Like I said, frigates don't usually have contractors; he's probably expecting it to take longer than usual." He started toward the elevator. "On the other hand, it might be a little easier right now, because we're still trying to figure the ship out. People haven't gotten stuck in ways of doing things. But if necessary, I'll pick up your stuff before I come back aboard." The elevator door hummed open and they stepped inside.
"What we don't have is a pay grade for you." Shepard gestured for RTM, subvocalizing, Victor Indigo, the quarian isn't a regular contractor. Find out what Alliance procedures apply, and how much we need to pay her.
Tali watched as Shepard waved his omnitool past the sensor; its display showed Dock 42-2. "I appreciate it. I hope it's not going to be too much trouble. I'm really looking forward to this; thank you."
The elevator began its ascent.
"The Galleybot says we can accommodate you from one of the printers, but it'll have to be clearly marked," Shepard read from his ARO as it was updated. "Do your people normally use food printers?"
Tali's helmet tilted quizzically. "Are you kidding? We've raised it to an art form. It's almost all anyone has access to. It's not like we can just go to a farm and get fresh food. Even if the geth haven't wiped out every organic on Rannoch, we can't even keep any animals we could rescue." Tali seemed to catch herself, made a cutting gesture with one hand. "I'm sorry, it's a sensitive subject, for quarians generally, and me particularly. Yes, we mostly use food printers, and if you want, I can get you everything we've learned about increasing efficiency and optimizing for medical personalisation."
Shepard looked away from her to study his ARO briefly. "I'm probably not the one who'll need that, but I'm glad you have it available."
"I have a question for you," Tali said. "Will I be have free run of the ship, or will I be confined to a place if we're not…um," she waved her hands vaguely, "you know, actually hunting Saren and the geth?"
"Obviously there are parts of the ship that are very sensitive or dangerous, and you'll be kept out of those by security measures already in place. When we're engaged in ship-to-ship combat, you will probably be safest in the Medical Bay. At least until we can find another place, or if another place is even considered necessary. But you'll have relatively free run of the ship." He looked down through the transparent bottom of the lift. "It'd be a pretty damning statement about how the Alliance treats its contractors if we always put you back in a toolbox after we were done using you."
"It would," Tali said quietly. She fidgeted, "Sorry, I hadn't meant it like that. I'm just…I'm very excited about learning everything I can, and I didn't know…um…how restricted I might be."
The elevator hummed quietly as it rose toward the dock.
"So are there only people aboard your fleet? No pets or food animals? I thought it was mostly civilians."
"It is mostly civilians," she agreed, "but collectively we call it the Flotilla, or the Migrant Fleet, and different ships have different complements. Most of the military force we have operates like civilian police, and soldiers are scattered throughout the fleet. So there are soldiers on every ship. But there are a few warships, mostly on the periphery, to keep predators and pirates away. They fought more in the early days after the Geth Uprising. These days, practically all of them have their families living aboard them…there are just a lot fewer of them…relatively speaking. Soldiers often marry soldiers, too. And the Admirals usually cooperate to try to keep families together.
"The cruisers and other warships are also equipped with the most state-of the art equipment, because they often have to repair civilian ships that have troubles and are falling out of formation. They have the best sensors so they can spot potential hostiles a long way out. There's a lot of prestige being in one of the military ships; it almost always means you're really good at what you're doing."
The elevator had stopped, and the doors slid away. As they walked out, Tali continued, "There are a few types of animals that we keep on a few of the liveships, but they are relatively space- and resource-intensive. We have enough flora and fauna on ice to colonize a planet, but we've never been able to find a planet available to resettle everyone at once."
Shepard noticed he was frowning, and that his frown had been deepening. Captain Anderson must have known some of this, but it sounded like a wrong that had been committed so long ago that no one felt like they could do anything about it. In a galaxy of hundreds of billions of stars, how hard could it be to pick out a world for them to try to live on? Something was clearly wrong with this situation.
The quarian stopped suddenly, ran to the rail, leaned over it as far possible; it looked like she was about to throw herself over it. "Keelah, is that your ship? It's…it's beautiful! I've never seen anything like it! It hardly looks like an Earth ship…or anything else I've ever seen!" She looked over her shoulder at him, pointed at Normandy's prow, "That, right there. Is that your ship?"
He almost laughed at her reaction. "Yes it is. I think Normandy is the Alliance's newest ship. So new that we haven't even had a proper mission yet; we just got back from our shakedown."
Tali's VIs and sensors took in as much as they could; her HUD filled with data callouts, identifying systems, capacities, pulling data from her NetBite and correlating it with what she could see. She switched the display to clear the data and studied the ship hanging from docking clamps.
This is the future, she thought. I'm looking at tomorrow's warship.
She looked back at the human again, just standing there smiling at her. "When can we go aboard?"
He pointed at the docking arm. "Right now."
Tali started toward the gangway; she practically ran there.
"Wait wait wait," Shepard jogged to catch up. "Security will want to see me there, and I'll identify you." He trotted past the quarian, who had stopped at the end of the covered gangway, and strode to its end. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the quarian still waiting at the platform. He waved her over.
"Here's where it'll get interesting. I've never done a Contractor Debut before. Normally, the Captain would have approved the request, I'd handle the forms, we'd wait a few days, and then Trident would get back to us. The Liaison would greet you at the platform where we were to meet you, and the VIs would already be done exchanging information about you.
"But that would only apply if we were on a bigger ship; a cruiser or battleship, which I've served on, or a dreadnought or carrier, which I haven't. They have the extra capacity for contractors; we don't. But a frigate is normally assigned to picket a larger ship, and if we needed a contractor, like I said before, you'd normally be berthed on that larger ship; we'd dock to bring you aboard when we needed you. Or else we'd use a P-3 Mullins or some other ship's boat."
The boatswain interrupted, "Executive Officer Shepard is aboard. OD Pressley stands relieved of the deck."
Shepard looked at Tali, pointed at the door with his nearer hand. "This should be interesting."
The airlock's inner door grumbled aside.
Warrant Officer Talitha Draven was standing just inside the door, a salute already rendered. "Welcome aboard, sir. Dock Command said you were on your way up with a new contractor."
Shepard returned the salute. "I appreciate you being proactive about this, Draven. But I suspect your day is just beginning. I don't think the Alliance has ever had a quarian contractor."
Tali managed a hesitant little wave at the human female. "Hi…"
The smallish Asian-featured woman smiled confidently. "Actually sir, we've really got a leg up on this. It's unusual, but she isn't the first, so I was able to get a lot of help from Operations." She held up her arm, lighting her omnitool. Shepard recognized the PDT and nodded approvingly.
"Everything you always wanted to know about having a quarian contractor, right here," Draven gestured forward with her thumb, "We also have a ship that was co-developed with the turian government, and our equipment was already designed for joint operations. When Spectre Nihlus was aboard, we were able to support him without missing a beat; everything from galley to medical converts on demand." She beamed confidently at him. "With him gone now, I'm kind of glad to have the opportunity to find out how well we're equipped."
"Outstanding, Draven." Shepard indicated the Warrant Officer with a wave of his hand as he looked to his right at Tali. "In that case, I'll leave you in the competent hands of our ILO while I head back to the station. If either of you need anything, message me."
WO-2 Draven was equipped with a half-headband HUD; its left-eye holograph informed her of how to formally greet a quarian visiting from another ship. She extended both hands, palms up, and bowed slightly. "On behalf of Captain David Anderson, I welcome you aboard SSV Normandy, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. I'm at your service."
Tali replied by bowing, and brushing her hands, palms up, across the human's. "Compliments of Orvik'Rosech, hod Rayya. I am at your service."
The human stood straight and extended her hand, offering a human handshake. "I'm Warrant Officer Talitha Draven, and I'll be your shadow for a few days while you're getting used to life aboard Normandy." She smiled as Tali exchanged the human greeting as well. "Are you hungry? We can start by getting your galley profile set up."
As she stepped out of the airlock, Tali seemed at a loss for words. "Um…that would be good." She glanced quickly at Shepard and then back. "Oh…I was just telling Commander Shepard that I have information for exactly that: Increasing efficiency and optimizing for medical personalisation. And if you already have dextro-compatible food printers, I can help you configure it for duplex operation in just a few minutes..."
Shepard made eye contact with Draven as the woman began to guide the quarian down the accessway, and nodded with satisfaction as the inner airlock door grumbled shut.
# # #
He returned to the elevator, descended to the C-Sec Academy atrium, and followed his ARO directions down two flights of stairs to the Spectre Office.
Folding his hands together, the turian at a desk looked up; a collection of holographic displays around him collapsed as Shepard approached, leaving only the control console lit. "Commander...Shepard. Here with the Alliance, first time on the Citadel. Is that about right?"
"Yes it is. My Captain said I should come down and check with you about special equipment and supplies."
"Ah. We do in fact stock special equipment, but its use is generally restricted." The turian leaned forward, hands still folded in a gesture that looked quite casual.
"Restricted to…?"
"I'm afraid that information is also controlled. Though I do have an array of equipment you might not find anywhere else. Would you care to see it?"
"I suppose that would be a good start." Shepard illuminated his omnitool, and selected his e-sig, displayed its contents. "But you might want to have a look at this first." He pinched the e-sig token, extended it to the turian official.
The turian hadn't taken his eyes off the omnitool display. He put his hands back down on the desk, leaned forward with his fringe contracted. "Spirits, that's either the best forgery I've ever seen, or…you're the human Spectre." He shook his head in disbelief. "Sorry, I'd heard about that, I just didn't believe–" He sat back in his chair suddenly, made a noise like metal clanking on a rock. "My apologies, Agent." He stood, rendered an Alliance salute. "Welcome to the Spectres. I'm C-Sec Liaison Tello Dasinian."
"Thank you." Shepard returned the salute crisply as his ARO displayed the turian's rank in his native language. "It all came as something of a surprise to me, Latarn. No apology is required."
Dasinian sat back down, gripping a biometric reader. "It's unusual for Spectres to come here to get equipped."
"I assume my Captain had a reason for doing so, but he didn't share it with me. It's possible this is the only one he knew."
The turian looked up at him again. The way he moved suggested impatience, and Shepard's ARO informed him of this. "Agent, you are a Spectre. You don't have a Captain. You report to the Council directly."
Shepard paused, then shook his head. "Well, the Captain of my ship, David Anderson, told me to come here. Is there someplace else I should be instead?"
"David Anderson?" Dasinian lit his omnitool, worked it quickly. "Oh, the human candidate from before. He's your Captain? Or, I mean…he was?"
"He still is," Shepard defended, "at least as far as I know. Is there someplace else I should be?"
"No, this is fine, it's just unusual. Your David Anderson probably sent you here because this is where Spectre candidates usually equip for their evaluations, so it may be the only one he knew of…twenty years ago. Once you've been accepted into the program, the Central Spectre office is where you would go for a proper outfitting. I can't do the full medical workup, but I can arm you." He worked the controls at his console, opening and closing some of the secondary holographics as he did. "It looks like your government has set up an expense account and CAO listing through something called AGAS. Do you know this AGAS?"
"Sure do," Shepard said. "Alliance General Accounting Service. Does that tell you if the account is associated with the ship or with me?"
Dasinian looked down at the holographic display. "Normandy?"
Shepard nodded. "That's my ship. Okay, I have my mission, does that tell you if I have a budget?"
The turian looked up quizzically. "You're a Spectre, Agent. To accomplish your mission, the resources of the Council are at your disposal." He leaned back in his chair, manipulating the biometric reader. The door behind Shepard hissed closed. "Here." The turian looked to his left as wall panels parted to reveal an array of weapons, armor icons, biotic amps, and omnitools.
He looked down at his own omnitool and thought, Looks like it's time for an upgrade. He waved an arm at the impressive collection. "Are you familiar enough with all this to advise?"
"Technically I have C-Sec rank, but primarily I've been part of the Spectre Office for three years. I've served in Fleet Special Operations where I earned my crossed swords, and as a Requisitions Officer before transferring to the Citadel." He leaned forward on his elbows. "So yes, I think you could say I'm well informed."
Shepard folded his arms across his chest. "I'm currently using a Logic Arrest VII linked to a neural implant I've had since childhood. But I've always lusted after the Savant line of omnitools. Do you have access to those?"
The turian tilted his head. "Savants are made on Thessia, and they're actually meant to be used with a Serrice biotic amp. You don't show up here as a biotic." He gestured at the holographic display.
"They're still really powerful 'tools. Do you have them?"
The turian managed to look irked. "Not here. But I know that there are asari Spectres who use them. So you may need to check with the Spectre Office in Sector Two, near the asari embassy, when you have the time to get your full medical integration scan done."
"If I get any equipment issued here but don't fire it before I get there, can I exchange it there?"
The turian sat back in his chair, "Commander, when you are issued equipment by your Alliance, it is my understanding that you do not pay for it. Is this true?"
He shrugged. "To a degree. You're given a budget, though. So it's smart to spend more on critical gear, or to upgrade your armor on your own. I'm an engineer, so I spent big on my omnitool, and didn't buy a shotgun at all."
The turian held up a taloned claw in an obviously human gesture. "My point is that this is a different world. It is not a retail exchange when we're outfitting you. You're being equipped with the best devices and systems that the collected Council races can get. And that you will be most comfortable with. Your life and mission depend on it. Of course, if you hire or use freelancers, they will officially have to buy their own equipment, but you are welcome to return current equipment for new equipment and supplies at any time, and in any condition."
Dasinian looked severely at the human as he rose from his chair and stepped over to the equipment arrayed on the wall. "Obviously, this could be abused for personal gain. So be warned, human. The Spectres have enemies, and it will be important that you give them no opportunity to hinder our mission: Preserve peace in the galaxy. It is a responsibility unlike any other, and as much will be asked of you, much will be offered in order to ensure your success."
The plates above the turian's eyes rose; Indicates altruism, said a callout on Shepard's ARO.
"Providing an agent to the Spectres is a significant obligation, both to the Council and to the source government," he said. "I doubt your own government would have selected you without being confident in your discretion." He raised a hand to the display. "Whatever weapons, armor, specialized equipment, or other technology I can offer you to improve your chances of success are yours for the asking. If you can not understand why this is so, or if you think this is merely a financial opportunity, I suggest you return to your Captain and inform him that you are not well-suited to this task."
Without waiting for Shepard to reply, Dasinian glanced at his omnitool, turned and selected a pistol from the wall. "However, I see that you are wearing an Alliance sidearm. I think you will find this a great improvement." He extended the weapon to the Commander, grip first.
Spectre Pistol-M VII (2182), said Shepard's ARO. Chassis officially supports 710g deep modification.
He took the grip with his left hand, passed the weapon to his right; it felt heavy and solid. As his VI pulled specs from the display's p-net, it populated his ARO with technical callouts, and then with comparative information about his current sidearm.
17.2g woven-eezo epitaxial linac with 64kV 2ns launcher, SkunkArb GmbH electronics with crosslinked alritresigon fibre shielding, biometric security, and Brinnister Expert suite of omnitool-compatible service apps and automation.
Turning it around, he nodded approvingly. "Now that's a hell of a pistol." He started to hand the weapon back.
"And it's yours, Spectre." Dasinian pointed at the SmartClip on Shepard's right thigh. "Even unmodified, it should easily outperform your old weapon."
Shepard lifted his Stiletto-IV off its SmartClip and held it up next to the Spectre pistol.
Touching his left thumb to middle fingertip, he subvocalized, Captain, this office apparently doesn't do the medical scan, and doesn't have the omnitool I want. Should I just come over now?
There was a pause as the message was converted and routed, and the Captain replied, D. Anderson: That would be good.
The turian let him study the weapons for a moment before continuing, "Speaking of which, if you wish to retire that older weapon, I would be happy to take it."
"Hmm. Not yet," Shepard looked down at the pistol. "At the moment, it's still a Known Good."
"Very well. If you prefer to hand-carry one out, I'd suggest a case." He stooped, lifted a pistol case out from the bottom section of the display, and flipped it open on the desk.
Shepard nestled his older weapon into the protective intelligel case, and lit his omnitool. "Thanks. I'll get some time on the range with that when I'm not taking up your time, too." Pressing a switch on the new pistol, he started its acquisition protocol from his omnitool, continuing to hold it as the omnitool transferred his preferences, logged the transfer of ownership with the Citadel and Alliance, then imprinted his e-sig, updated his p-net inventory, and asked him if the change of pistol was temporary or permanent.
He reached into the air in front of himself, touched the ARO's virtualized key for Permanent, and holstered the weapon.
The turian pointed across the room. "You should also be aware that the Academy has a ten-lane range on level six, other side of the atrium." The turian pointed to his right and up.
"Level six shooting range…good to know. Thank you." Shepard reached over his shoulder and drew his "big gun," the Equalizer VI. "My weapon of choice is my sniper rifle. What do you have in that?"
Dasinian looked from the rifle to Shepard and back. "Hm. That's quite a weapon; would you excuse some professional curiosity about where you got it?"
"Not at all. It was a joint operation a few months ago with a turian group, uh…" his VI displayed the group number on his ARO, "the 126th Spec Ops. The CO and I were talking, and I found out that he collects–"
"That he collects Alliance weapons," Dasinian finished with him. "Congratulations, Commander. That was the Blackwatch, and they were probably evaluating you even then. As a Spectre, you should be aware that the Blackwatch do not have a unit number; that at least was misdirection."
He tapped the sniper rifle once with a talon. "The Equalizer would normally be an excellent choice. If you prefer to engage at range, you will like this." He turned and activated a selector on the display; with a brief chorus of servo noises, the shelf of sniper rifles tilted back and retracted, revealing four other shelves, one of which slid out and tilted down. Dasinian selected the one closest to himself, lifted it out and presented it to Shepard.
Spectre SASR-A VII (2182). Chassis officially supports 2120g deep modification.
With his omnitool still lit, he started its acquisition; his ARO added, 54.4g matrixed-eezo epitaxial multicaliber linac with 196kV 5ns launcher, Odin ammoblock with aero variable shaver, UV combo laser rangefinder/stabilizer/distortion compensator, biometric security, Brinnister Expert suite, including a remote-controlled or VI-operated sentry-gun system when used with servo tripod.
The relative specs were simply awe-inspiring. Besides the fact that it could throw a six-gram slug, the Odin ammoblock could deliver each round in a variety of configurations, optimized for cyclic rate, force, range, accuracy, or several combinations thereof.
He smiled unconsciously, It's like having my old Gorgon-3 back.
Dasinian had put another case on the desk, and Shepard laid his Equalizer inside it. Lifting the the Spectre weapon from the desk, he compacted it and attached it to his SmartPak. It was noticeably heavier, but not enough to be a problem.
"Now here's something that might be nice," Shepard said. He reached over his shoulder for the assault rifle, and was momentarily surprised to find he was holding a geth weapon. "Oh, I forgot. My Avenger was destroyed." He extended the rifle toward the even-more-startled-looking turian. "Check this out."
Dasinian's head tilted and he leaned in for a closer look. "Where did you...what kind of weapon is that?"
"Uh...I used to carry an Avenger. But it was destroyed during Eden Prime. I recovered this on the battlefield and used it that day...um...but the reason I bring this up is because I've spent a disproportional amount of time and money on my sniper rifle, but I've never quite been happy enough with an assault rifle to seriously rely on it. Considering it was destroyed on Eden Prime, perhaps that's not so bad."
"Agent, if your words are true, then this weapon is almost invaluable. I would strongly advise you turn it in to a Citadel Council Weapons Lab." He pointed up and behind Shepard. "Level Three, just behind you."
"The full VRS was part of my report," Shepard said. "But I haven't really been debriefed about it all yet, and...um...simply hadn't switched it back to another print of my trusty ol' Avenger." He regarded the weapon for a moment. "But you're right, I should turn this in at the embassy; no point in my carrying it now. Though that will leave me short a weapon." He looked up at the turian. "If you can put an uncompromised AR in my hands, this will be a really great day."
The turian dreiffed his fringe. (Shepard only knew this because his ARO put a callout on it as the spikes lifted and lowered quickly: Fringe "dreif" – a highly contextualized informal gesture indicating various degrees of friendship, amusement, or smug self-approval.) "Then allow me to introduce you to the 2183 Spectre-grade assault rifle VII."
Shepard put the geth rifle on the desk as Dasinian hefted a matte black rifle and presented it to him. Its ultramarine indicators glowed briefly as he gripped it, showing an unused ammoblock.
He turned toward the door, kerclacking the ammoblock into place and dropping to one knee as he did. It gripped easily, balanced perfectly, and felt meaty and strong without being cumbersome. It nearly purred in his hands; the scope alone would probably have set him back a month's pay. This wasn't just a weapon, it was art.
Spectre Assault Rifle-M VII (2183). Chassis officially supports 1220g deep modification.
"This…is an assault rifle's wet dream of itself," Shepard hefted the weapon and stood again.
Dasinian seemed quite pleased. "I'm glad to have offered something of such value to you, Agent."
With his omnitool still lit, Shepard started its acquisition.
His ARO added, 34.4g matrixed-eezo epitaxial linac with 96kV 2ns launcher, Odin ammoblock with aero variable shaver, VI-assisted stabilized sight with infrared, biometric security…
He didn't bother to finish reading it. Gripping the rifle by its stock, Shepard held it where the SmartPak could reach it. Its compaction seemed quieter than he was used to. Good for covert ops, he realized. He smiled unconsciously.
Out of habit, he touched his left thumb to index finger, and lit his omnitool as a social cue. "This has been a very valuable meeting, Latarn. My Captain has just messaged me to join him in a meeting, so I'm afraid I'll have to leave before I think we've finished. Can you supply another case large enough to fit my pistol and the geth assault rifle?"
"Of course." Dasinian produced a sniper rifle case that accommodated both weapons. "I'm glad we had this meeting, Agent." He moved to return the pistol case to its storage.
"Thank you for your time, Latarn," Shepard carried the two cases out and up the stairs.
As he crossed the atrium to the elevator that would take him to Normandy's dock, he smiled to himself; carrying the two large cases made him a little self-conscious.
*** Glossary ***
AGAS: Alliance General Accounting Service
Biosuit (or "b-suit"): unlike a pressurized EVA suit where the entire volume of the suit is pressurized, a biosuit pressurizes only the helmet, and uses an intelligent material that flexes and bends as needed, in much the way that Spandex™ does, but without allowing the body to dry out. Technically a "space activity suit," the biosuit is only one of several ways to solve this problem, though as of 2183 it is the most widely used.
CAO: Council Accounting Office
CHA: Cord-Hislop Aerospace
Convertisuit (or "c-suit"): A snugly-fitting garment that can be converted into an EVA-ready biosuit in a matter of seconds. In most cases, the helmet must be manually donned, but more expensive systems can be added to automate sealing. Though not meant for long-duration exposure (days,) garments worn by space station inhabitants have convertisuit capability, but not all of them look like it, depending on the source. For example, Minimum Subsistence Allocation (MSA) clothes in such places are frequently not as artful.
Darhurst: A human news service, founded by a whistleblower in the early 21st century. Purportedly thorough in verifying its facts, Darhurst fell on hard times around 2176 when a hacktivist group – which some claim was created by an organization that had been exposed by Darhurst journalists – started feeding false information to Darhurst producers.
ERC: Encryption Redundancy Check. Most users have multiple protocols of encryption protecting their local (p-net) data and data exchanges. ERC is a meta-protocol that accelerates computation by re-encrypting only once what has been or would be encrypted multiple times by competing encryptions. Early versions were crackable, but since 2172's advent of 2.4Gb encryption "laces," it would take longer than the age of the universe to crack even with quantum brute force methods. Of course, VIs have been tasked with cracking them, and the next generation of encryption (due out in early 2184) is expected to use dedicated, quantum-entangled VIs that change the encryption on the fly.
hod: quarian demi-honorific, similar to "nar" [born on] and "vas" [crew of], but specifically used when speaking of the Captain/Commanding Officer of a ship in the second person to someone from another ship, or to a [non-quarian] alien.
HUD: Heads-Up Display
ILO: Interservice Liaison Officer
Latarn (pl. latarna): turian equivalent of a Staff Sergeant
MFO: Master Fabrication Officer
PDT: Procedural Decision Tree
RTM: RealTime Messaging
WO-2: Warrant Officer Grade Two
