Chapter 52. And So It Begins


Nine Hours Later, 7. January 2415 AD, Citadel, HSA Embassy, Medical Wing

A rogue Spectre.

A kidnapped councilor.

An angry ambassador breathing down her neck wanting to know how exactly his orders to pick up Fist had ended with her joining forces with a krogan mercenary, shooting up one of Lower Zakera Wards' most popular nightclubs, getting involved in another shoot-out inside a medical facility and bringing not only her target but also a turian C-SEC officer and an injured quarian pilgrim back to the embassy.

And to top it all of, a Section 13 agent insisting that neither Captain Anderson nor Director Harper were telling her the truth about what had been going on since Eden Prime and again reminding her of the more than cryptic message and vision the destroyed prothean beacon left her with.

To say that her life was chaotic mess of secrets, hidden agendas and confusion at the moment would've been painfully accurate.

Interrupting her pacing in front of the embassy's medical wing with a sigh, Emily looked at the door. While they wouldn't have all the answers, especially not in regards to what the beacon had done to her, the injured quarian and the turian C-SEC officer who hadn't left her side from the moment she had left the operating room, could at least help her make some sense of one of her current problems.

Namely, the kidnapped councilor.

While the Council had never offered a formal statement in regards to the disappearance or closed the investigation into the whereabouts of their former colleague, it hadn't taken long for a plausible explanation to surface. Although space travel was an everyday part of life and accidents were luckily rare, especially with vessels as advanced as that of the Asari Republics, cases of ships embarking on a journey and never arriving at their destination occurred every now and again. Whether it was a technical failure, a freak collision with another ship that happened to drop out of FTL in the exact same place another did or something as mysterious as the Omega-4 Relay that seemed to claim every explorer, settler or smuggler foolish enough to believe they'd be the first to make it through the unexplored relay and live to tell the tale, it was far easier to get lost out in space than people regularly traveling through it were comfortable with admitting. So as far as she and the general public had been concerned that was exactly what had happened. Matriarch T'Soni had gotten on her ship, set out to wherever it was that she had planned to go to and then, with the snap of a finger, she had been gone. No grand conspiracy, no kidnapping orchestrated by her current replacement or another unseen political rival, just an unfortunate accident that could've happened to everyone else.

Given what she had gone through these past few days, she probably should've seen it coming that it wouldn't be this simple.

Technically what she was about to do wasn't forbidden. After arriving she had been told to remain on stand-by and wait for further orders. No one had said anything about her not being allowed to launch her own investigation into something she was certain to be related to what had happened to her on Eden Prime. After all, she'd have to be a moron to assume that Arterius kidnapping Benezia wasn't somehow related to Arterius attacking Eden Prime and causing the beacon to do whatever it was that it had done to her. It just had to be. However from the real and not the technical point of view, the implication of remaining on stand-by had of course been that she should stay near or preferably inside the armory and wait for Udina to give her new orders, not go snooping around on her own and start asking question.

Emily had always considered herself to be by the book. She did what she was told to do and she did it to the best of her ability. To her orders had always been something she fully committed to. That was what it meant to be a soldier. Do what you're told and do it exactly like you're told. There was no room for bending the rules or using your own interpretation of what orders you were given. But with everything going on and the specialist's words getting surprisingly deep under her skin, she was starting to question the point of that mindset in her particular situation. Between losing the beacon, wreaking havoc in Zakera and pissing off Udina, there probably wasn't a lot of her career left to ruin.

What the hell.

Might as well find some answers.

Allowing herself another sigh before opening the door, the red-haired marine stepped into the mostly empty medical wing, immediately noticing the see-through barriers that had been set up between the bed the quarian was in and the rest of the sterile white room. Even though they had kept her suit intact, she figured that the doctors in charged wanted to lower the risk of further infection by setting up a small, improvised clean-room. From what she had heard regarding the state of the quarian, it was probably for the better. Although she seemed to be fine right now thanks to more medigel and whatever kind of antibiotics had been pumped into her system, Doctor Michel, who until further noticed had been 'asked' to remain in the embassy for her 'own safety', which was a nice way to say that she was being kept far away form the public eye because of what she had overheard in her clinic, had told her that it had been a very close call for the young woman.

After concluding that the quarian surviving the attempt on her life had already been enough of a reason to anger the ambassador by bringing her here, the N7 quickly glanced at the doctor currently tasked with caring for their 'guest' before looking at the bluish form that stood out against the white background of the medical wing and transparent glass of the clean room. Sitting on a chair that had been pulled right next to the entrance of the improvised quarantine wing was the turian C-SEC officer who by the looks of it had slept even less than her. Evidently struggling to keep his eyes open, she could pinpoint the exact moment he noticed her arrival by how he straightened himself in the chair, which creaked under the weight of his armor, and tried to appear as vigilant as possible.

"You know that she's save here, right?" Emily asked once she was sure he'd hear her. "There's no need for you to be on guard duty the entire time. Find a bed, get some sleep, she'll still be here when you come back."

"I appreciate the offer, Commander," the turian's voice flanged through the room, "but she's my only lead on the councilor and Saren. I'm not taking any chances."

"Now that kind of sounds like you don't trust us," she pointed out while leaning against the nearby wall, deciding that she wasn't going to sit down on the bed next to her no matter how tempting the prospect of sleep seemed right about now.

"Until I get her to testify in front of the council, trust isn't something I can afford," the detective replied.

"Well, I can only speak for myself," she shrugged,"but the way I see it, we're on the same side. At least when it comes to her."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Maybe?"

"With someone as high-profile as Saren turning rogue, there's no telling how deep this thing runs or who's side someone's on, especially not with people close to his allies."

So that what this was about.

Or rather who.

In retrospective it really hadn't been so hard to guess why the turian refused to leave the quarian's side.

"I see how it is," she said. "This is about Captain Anderson, isn't it?" He remained silent at that, giving her an answer and somehow adding to the specialist's warning at the same time without saying as much as a single word. "Honestly I don't think you have to worry about him. The captain's a good man," Emily offered.

"So was Saren before all of this." Alright. She'd be willing to see that point. "Then he snapped, got bought or decided to play for the other team for a change and see what it got him just for the fun of it and now a councilor's missing and his thugs are shooting people right here on the Citadel." And Eden Prime had been attacked and a prothean beacon had been destroyed. She'd keep that last part to herself for now though. "My point is, trust is a luxury none of us can afford right now," he finished before leaning back in the chair and reassuming his vigil of the door. She was starting to get the feeling that she should take a piece of that advice herself. "Now, why are you really here? I'm sure it's not for the company."

In retrospective she also should've known he'd figure out she was up to more than just a conversation. He might not have been a spy but being a detective on C-SEC was bound to give him the background needed to tell when someone had a hidden agenda.

"I was hoping to talk to the quarian," she answered truthfully. "Ask her about the Councilor."

"Tali."

"Come again?"

"Her name's Tali. Not quarian," as she looked at him with an unspoken question, the turian clarified. "At least that's what I think she said when I asked her earlier."

"She woke up?"

"I wouldn't call it waking up. She mumbled a couple of words, answered two questions and drifted back to sleep."

"I see."

"Your friend was right by the way," the detective said after a few silent seconds, his tone somewhat exhausted.

"My friend?"

"The guy from the clinic? Left without saying good bye? Only gave me this?" the turian clarified before holding up the small data drive.

"Oh. Him," she figured that he meant the specialist. "Definitely not a friend. But that's beside the point. Go on."

"When Doctor Michel came by to check on Tali she said that they almost lost her halfway through the surgery. If I had done it my way, she'd already been dead by the time C-SEC got her to a doctor."

"Beating yourself up over ifs won't get you anywhere," even though she gave that advice to a lot of people, she had the feeling that the turian needed it more than most of them. "She didn't die, that's what counts."

"That's not what you said to the other guy."

"You didn't leave her behind, did you?"

"I guess not."

"Commander Shepard," she suddenly heard Anderson call, the sound of his voice causing the turian's mandibles to press themselves tightly against his jaw. "Detective Vakarian," so that had been his name. Good to know. "The ambassador sent me to get you."

That was what the first human Spectre was doing now? Being sent to fetch people? Even though her own advice and the specialists words were still on her mind, she couldn't help but feel somewhat sorry for the part she had played in Anderson being benched. In a way she really would've liked to hear what Arcturus had to say about Udina's role in that but as things were, they were probably far too busy with picking up the pieces of Eden Prime to give him the much needed talk.

"What for, Sir?" she asked while pushing herself off the wall just as the turian rose to his feet, again causing the chair to let out a painful creaking sound.

"He didn't exactly say," the older soldier shrugged before nodding towards the turian. "But if I had to take a guess, it's probably about whatever's on that drive the specialist gave to him."

"I'm not leaving her alone," Vakarian spoke up.

"If it's me who you're worried about, Detective," the benched Spectre offered. "Rest assured that if I'm right, we'll all be going to the same place together pretty soon."

"And where'd that be?"

"The Council's chambers."

As with a lot of things today, she also should've seen that coming.


Meanwhile, 2156 CE, Theseus System, Feros

The Cipher.

At first he hadn't entirely been able to grasp the concept behind what he had come here to find, lacking the insight necessary to understand why the vanguard had sent him to scour through the ruins of those who had come before his own cycle to search for a creature that had survived harvest after harvest only because it was the only one of its kind and could never hope to leave Feros or become part of the pattern itself.

But then, just before he and the geth had set foot on this world near the small research outposts a group of corporate scientists had unknowingly set up near where Sovereign suspected the heart of the creature to be, it had become clear. As if someone had snapped his fingers, Saren had understood what he'd find in the dark, overgrown, long abandoned reactor tower he was currently walking through.

Some time before the end of their cycle, the original protheans, who had been the dominant species of an empire made up of dozens of civilizations who had all either come to or been forced to see themselves as 'protheans' as well, had been faced with finding a solution to bridge the gap that existed between themselves and their subjects. Owned to a unique natural ability of its creators that had never been observed before in any known space-faring species before, the technologies necessary to win what the protheans had called the 'Metacon War', which had been a galaxy-spanning conflict engineered by Sovereign to weaken the last cycle before its harvest, had been impossible to access for all but the original protheans. Faced with the dilemma of either giving up the edge that had allowed them to rule over the galaxy for several uninterrupted millennia and risk giving their subjects a chance to topple them and take their place or maintain the status quo and watch their empire crumble to dust under the synthetic grip of the Zha'Til, the prothean leaders made the only decision available to them, create a device that allowed the subservient species of the empire to interact with their technology in the same way they could, the Cipher. Once he had obtained it, Saren would be able to make sense of the beacon's vision, bringing him one step closer to his actual goal of finding the Conduit and using it to bring about this cycle's harvest.

Once that was done, he would've fulfilled his part in the pattern and played his role in this harvest.

Then and only then would he be able to res-

As his senses tore him from his thoughts, the turian froze in place, an action immediately mirrored by both the geth troopers he had taken with him and the asari huntress he had captured alongside the councilor back on Illium.

Something was off.

Thanks to the bent up ahead, he couldn't actually see what it was that had caught his attention but judging by the look on her face, the asari had caught it too by now. After all, once one actually noticed it, it was hard to ignore the stench the changing wind was now blowing into their direction from somewhere deeper down the half-way finished reactor core.

As he gestured for one of the geth drones to investigate, the white synthetic marched forward without hesitation, its own ignorance in regards to the smell, its lack of a self-preservation instinct and its complete obedience to him causing it to pay no mind to the possible dangers that could be waiting for it just beyond the greyish-black walls of the structure they were in. With every time its metal feet hit the floor of the large prothean tower they had been searching for the better part of the day, Saren expected something to happen, to see the pulse rifle in its hand flash up as it spotted an enemy or to see it ripped apart by whoever had tried to lay an ambush for them. But strangely enough, none of that happened. The geth simply marched forward, remained out of sight for a minute and then came back, looking no worse for wear, the few rays orange light that managed to find their way into the otherwise shadowy corridors still reflecting of its polished white armor plates like they had done before, not a single scratch being visible on it as its flashing head turned back towards the Spectre, signaling him that it was safe to continue. Sharing a brief look with the sole other organic of his party, Saren gestured for two more geth to join the drone and repeat the search. He had all the time in the world and he wasn't going to take any chances, not when he was this close to the Cipher.

Watching as the geth went on their way to join their comrade, the Spectre began to blend out the unpleasant scent, ready to dismiss it as the product of the majority of Feros' vast, planet-spanning cityscape having been left unattended for fifty thousand years right until he saw all of the geth spin their heads in the same direction in one fluid motion, the fact that they processed the information they did pick up on far more quickly than any organic could ever hope to allowing them to hear it way before him. At first he wasn't entirely sure how to describe the noise, not really having anything to compare it to but when he focused on it more, blocking out the high-pitched electronic sounds the drones produced when they communicated with each other at short range, the closest comparison he could find was that of a soldier marching through thick, fresh mud. Or at least it would've been that if it hadn't been for the addition of the grunting noise now surfacing from somewhere in the reactor tower.

Deciding that he had to see for himself what was going on, the Spectre walked to where the geth drones were standing like statues, his Phaeston, which had accompanied ever since he had first earned the honor of calling himself a Blackwatch operative, at the ready. Expecting to find some kind of indigenous creature as the source of the geth's apparent confusion, he was ready to make short work of it and continue to pursue his mission. It was only when he turned the corner and came to a halt at the edge of a hole in the ceiling that he realised what he had found and why the geth hadn't shot it yet.

There, suspended just below them by four thick and dozens of smaller tendrils wrapped around support pillars and dug into the wall of the tower, was a large, light-brown being. If it weren't for the snout-like 'face' of the creature, from which a smaller set of thin tendrils were dangling and that seemed to move in a manner not quite unlike breathing, he might've passed this up as the dead remains of a once enormous plant. But as things were, this thing definitely wasn't dead. If anything, it looked like it was breathing.

"Stand back, make sure no one interferes," he ordered the geth as he noticed that a transparent liquid was starting to leak from an opening between the tendrils, a mouth of some kind. Next the 'body' of the creature began convulsing into the direction of the snout, causing the turian Spectre lowered his Phaeston. Judging by the thick dark-green plates covering the softer portions of the creature, his rifle wouldn't do any real damage to it to begin with. Additionally, he hadn't come here to kill this creature. He had come to bargain. Watching as a set of green, two-toed feet became visible from the mouth below the snout, followed by a set of deformed legs and a hunched upper body with two mismatched arms, Saren realised what the creature was doing.

It was creating a humanoid body for itself. An avatar so to speak.

When the figure's surprisingly intact head finally left the opening, it dropped to the ground, struggling to get up at first. To be honest, Saren wasn't entirely sure how he knew that he was looking at a badly-copied prothean but he didn't pay much mind to it either. By now he had grown used to knowledge and memories that weren't his own coming to him from time to time at the hands of Sovereign. As the figure finally rose, evidently not bothered by how one of its arms already seemed to slowly fall off its body, its head turned towards the turian, its four eyes focusing on him like the wanted to see right through him.

"Stranger," it said in a barely understandable voice as the large creature behind it convulsed again, the smaller tendrils of its mouth moving in a way that reminded the turian of a puppeteer and his puppet only without there actually being any connection between the strings and the puppet. "A thousand feelers have sensed you and the cold ones wander through the Old Growth. Why do you approach the Thorian?"

"I came to bargain with you," he replied, feeling a strange calm wash over him in spite of what he was standing in front of. Normally he would've at least been unnerved by something so disturbingly alien but luckily for him, Sovereign was there to silence his less focused thoughts.

"You are not the first of this cycle to stand within and before the Thorian to request a trade without understanding the prize they'd have to pay. Before you continue, consider your words carefully."

"I am not like any of my cycle," Saren countered with an icy voice. "The Thorian holds a key I need it to fulfill my mission. If it gives me the Cipher, I'll pay whatever prize your master desires."

"You seek knowledge of the past? Of the builders that spawned this thrall?" the avatar asked, in return. "The ones who attempted to trap the Old Growth in their cold shells?" although he wasn't sure if the things was capable of even feeling to that degree, Saren picked up on the anger the avatar's words carried. Apparently the protheans were a rather sensitive subject for this particular plant.

Not that it mattered to him.

"Yes," he simply answered.

"The Thorian has watched for many cycles. None ever rivaled the wisdom of the Old Growth and none ever will," the prothean avatar mumbled. "But out of all, the builders came the closest to achieving it," was that a hint of pride? Spirits, how conscious was that avata- Before his misguided sympathy for the thrall got the better of him, the whisper fortunately silenced that line of thought as well, allowing him to focus on the task at hand again. "Their key holds many secrets. To unlock them will cost you a life," the avatar continued as he walked towards Saren, the already 'injured' arm slowly losing its attachment to the body in the process and falling to the floor of the light-brown interior of the tower, revealing the root-like tendrils by which it had been connected to the rest of the prothean's body and confirming that the avatar wasn't an actual prothean but rather some kind of copy of one made by a material similar to the hundreds of roots he had previously assumed to be simple overgrowth.

"A life?" as the whisper telling him that he was too valuable to strike this deal and urged him to simply take the Cipher by force grew into an insisting roar, Saren did something he didn't think he would've been capable of doing anymore. He didn't heed its advice and voiced words that were entirely his own. "What does that mean?"

"A life is needed to replace the decaying flesh of this thrall," the copy of the prothean answered. "Unlike the Thorian, we do not endure age. Time takes their toll on us, weakens us," as the avatar again looked at him, Saren began to form a theory around its words. The last protheans had made their stand on a distant world which name meant nothing to him nearly fifty thousand years ago, having abandoned Feros centuries beforehand. As he merged his own logic with the knowledge of the vanguard, it became clear that it had been far more than fifty thousand years since the Thorian had first claimed the prothean that formed the basis of this avatar and that in spite of its ability to create copies of the alien time and again for occasions such as this one, his template had already been declining for centuries. By the looks of the copy in front of him, the Thorian would soon be incapable of making any more copies, "Makes us brittle and fall apart," it finished. "Soon I won't be able to serve the Thorian, a new thrall is needed to take my place."

"You want me to become the Thorian's new avatar?" he asked, already knowing both his and Sovereign's answer to the request and preparing himself to give the geth the order to attack.

"No, not you. Your flesh lacks endurance," the thrall replied as its head shifted to the asari he had brought along incase communication with the keeper of the Cipher would've proved to be impossible by conventional means and required a mindmeld to be successful. "This one's doesn't," it explained as Saren noticed the small root brushing around the asari's boots. "The Old Growth feels the strength pulsing through its veins. It will serve longer and better than either of us."

Before he had understood the reality of the world he lived in and learned of the true meaning behind not just his own life but the lives of everyone in the galaxy, a trade like this one would've made him sick to his stomach. He never would've willingly condemned someone to whatever it was that the Thorian did to them to produce its avatars. Although he didn't know the details, just by looking at the thrall he knew that it was a fate he wouldn't even have wished upon his worst enemies. But now that Sovereign had shown him the truth and taught him what it really meant to live in this galaxy? Now he didn't even think twice about it.

No matter the cost, his role in the pattern had to be fulfilled. Too much was at stake for him to fail because of something as redundant as morales.

"If you give me the Cipher, her strength will be your strength," the turian replied before looking at the asari and nodding his head towards the Thorian. Much like he himself, the asari understood her role in the cycle and much like he himself, she was willing to pay the prize needed to achieve it. That was what the Reapers did to those which were fortunate enough to be chosen by them. They gave them a purpose greater than life itself.

Before he could ask himself why that thought seemed to cause his left hand to try and reach for the trigger of one of the grenades strapped to his belt or why he strangely enough wasn't trying to stop it, the next action of the prothean copy luckily snapped him and his left hand back to reality.

"Many have come to this place since the last great cycle and many tried to bargain with the Old Growth," the avatar said as it walked in between the asari and Saren, holding a hand out to both of them. "The Thorian heeded none of them."

"They didn't offer what I offer," Saren replied.

"They didn't seek what you seek," the copy retorted. "Knowledge is the Old Growth's desire as well. Before the trade is struck, it demands to know why you ask for the Cipher."

"Like I said," Saren's voice flanged. "I need it to complete my mission."

"An empty answer to the question that was asked."

Instead of trying to come up with his own reply to the thrall's copy, Saren simply decided to echo the words Sovereign handed to him. "The asari holds the answers you desire. Much like her strength, her knowledge will be your knowledge once I have the Cipher."

"So be it," the prothean avatar said in a whisper before suddenly grabbing a hold of Saren as well. As a second passed without anything happening, the turian had been about to ask what the avatar was trying to do when he felt a strange numbness come over him. Although this wasn't the first time that someone else's thoughts had joined his own, both Sovereign and the beacon having done it before, it immediately became clear that this was different than either of them. Unlike the vanguard or the beacon, the Thorian didn't seem to drown out his own thoughts or try to make his mind its own. It just seemed to offer a compromize of some kind, a new lens through which he could view the vision that had haunted his otherwise dreamless nights ever since Eden Prime. As he dared to take a glimpse at the set of images for another time, Saren felt a sense of clarity wash over him.

Now it all made sense.

Finally he understood what the beacon had been trying to tell him and how the protheans had managed to survive the last harvest.

Finally he was one step closer to fulfilling the new purpose given to him by the vanguard.

As he further embraced the calmness the Thorian offered and the knowledge the Cipher gave to him alongside it, the vision started to slow down and clear up, allowing him to pick out the pieces relevant to him. The Conduit was on a world that had never been part of the prothean star charts seized during the last opening of the Citadel Relay. Instead of being part of the register of all settled worlds, it had been a highly classified research outpost excluded from all records, which given the Conduit's nature only made sense. And although the whisper let him know that the relay that would lead to this world, Ilos, had been thrown out of its original position by a supernova four thousand years ago and was currently lost to even its creators, it also told him that there was still a way for him to find it in time.

While they might have failed to complete their own role in the pattern, the first servants of this cycle still held the next key to finding the Conduit. Although believed to have been extinct ever since the end of the war, one of them, a being that had yet to see the same truth of Sovereign and the Reapers that its ancestors had been shown over two thousand years ago, had survived the onslaught that had claimed the rest of her species, slowly growing under the ignorant watch of a corporation that had no idea how to unlock the true potential of their discovery. In time, she would serve much like the queens of old had served. He'd make sure of tha-

"Liar!" the avatar suddenly roared, tearing Saren from his thoughts just in time to see the feet of the asari disappear into the four tendrils of the Thorian's 'mouth'. "Your every breath carried the air of deception. The Thorian senses their taint upon your flesh. Their shadow has already claimed you!" it roared as the creature behind it growled and convulsed violently. "You no longer guide your own actions! You are but another thrall, serving a master lacking the benevolance of the Old Gro-" deciding that the grip of the avatar had tightened enough around his armored, a ball of purple energy manifested itself from Saren's hand, sending the copy of what had probably been the last prothean of the galaxy flying down the reactor shaft below the plant that had created it. As he heard distant footsteps and multiple sets of growls and roars that seemed to close in on their position, the Spectre turned towards one of the geth, the next set of his orders already being whispered into his mind.

"Call for reinforcements and establish a perimeter. Make sure no one else gets to the Thorian and keep it save from any who try to harm it," as he eyed the plant for a last time before beginning his walk back through the dark halls of the reactor tower, he muttered something he hoped would instill fear in this being which had avoided its fate for far too long. "Sovereign still has plans for it."


Three Hours Later, 7. January 2415 AD, Citadel, Presidium

The people going about their jobs around them, the stairs leading to the chambers, the C-SEC officers standing guard to make sure it all went smoothly. All of it was still familiar to her. After all, it hadn't even been two days since she had last been in this place. For her liking, that was far too often in one week that she had been asked to speak in front of the Council.

Besides her and the turian detective, who after much discussion and a call from his superior had been convinced to answer the summoning and leave behind his only witness in exchange for presenting his findings to the Council, Alenko, Williams and Anderson were also on their way to join Ambassador Udina, who had already been talking to the councilors for the better part of the last hour. Although they were about to enter the chambers, she still wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to be doing here. Of course a debrief in regards to Fist and the quarians had come to her mind but if that was the case, there would've been no need for Anderson to join them, or at least none that she could see at the moment.

"The Council's already waiting for you, Agent Anderson," one of the C-SEC officers, a salarian with a reddish skin complexion, said as they approached the chambers, his omni-tool flashing a bright green in the process.

"Actually, it's only Captain at the moment," the dark-skinned man corrected with a shrug.

"Heard of that. Don't approve of the decision. Arterius and you did a lot for the Citadel. Disgraceful that this is how they repay you," to the salarian the small smile Anderson offered probably appeared as an appreciation of his loyalty. But she knew better than that. It served to hide the emotional turmoil the captain was most certainly going through right now. Whether he kept a secret from her alongside the director of Cerberus or not, Emily could image that this entire ordeal was much harder on him than on anyone else, especially at the moment when only a handful of people knew about Arterius' role in things and most simply worked under the assumption that the turian was still the same 'Hero of the Citadel' he had been all these years, not knowing why his longtime partner had been temporarily removed from the ranks of the Spectres or what he had been up to these last few months.

"It is what it is," Anderson shook his head before waving for them to follow him into the chambers.

Just like the last time, the meeting was a non-public one due to the highly sensitive information being discussed and just like the last time, the three councilors were standing slightly above them on their three podiums. Unlike last time however, Udina was already there and talking.

"Good. You're all here," she heard the ambassador say as the doors shut behind them. He probably had been laying the groundwork for what they were supposed to do here up to now. "Now we can finally begin with the induction procedu-" he certainly sounded eager.

"All in due time, Ambassador Udina," the lone asari in the room cut him off calmly. "Before we continue, the council will review the evidence you talked about," there was a brief pause before Councilor Irissa turned to look at her and the turian next to her. "Detective Vakarian," at the sound of her voice, the C-SEC officer seemed to stand at attention. "It is my understanding that you and Commander Shepard managed to procure a recording that incriminates Agent Saren Arterius of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Branch of treason against the Citadel Council. Is that correct?"

"Yes, Madam Councilor."

"It is also my understanding that you have this recording on you."

"I do, Madam Councilor." Sharing a nod with her two colleagues, the asari brought up her omni-tool at that, causing a small drone to detach itself from the side of her podium. Floating towards the turian with the faint humming of a small mass effect core, the drone came to a halt in front of him, an orange, omni-tool-like interface appearing from a projector on its top.

"If you may," Emily had to give it to the asari, she had a way to make orders sound like polite requests like few others had.

"Of course," the turian said before pulling the human-made data drive from one of the small compartments of his armor, fiddling with it for a few seconds before finding the desired button that allowed the drone to access the data stored on it. Watching the orange interface to track the progress of the data transfer, Emily found herself tensing up in expectation.

She and presumably Vakarian as well didn't actually know what was on the drive. The only thing she knew for certain was that Udina had been told what it was and that it was important, or rather incriminating enough, to give him a reason to rush back to the council as fast as humanly possible to draw up some kind of response plan likely aimed at both stopping Arterius and earning some more good will before the HSA's government inevitably called him back to Arcturus for a lengthy series of interviews regarding his choice to pull the chair out form under Captain Anderson.

As a stuttering began coming from the drone, the N7 spent a brief moment thinking that the specialist might have put something to the drive to prevent this kind of access and considered to voice said concern to possibly prevent a diplomatic incident. But before she opened her mouth, she luckily realised that the strange sound was a part of the recording by picking up on the barely audible breathing in the background. After a couple more seconds filled by the same electronic sound from before had passed, a voice she was certain to belong to the missing politician began speaking.

"Eventually people will come for me. My huntresses were trained well. They will find me and they will stop you."

"If they come looking for you, their fate will be the same as yours, Councilor," a confident flanging voice replied. Although she couldn't claim to know him personally like other people in the room, she was certain that this was Saren Arterius talking.

"You believe you've won already?" the councilor replied defiantly. "Out of all people, I would've expected you to know that such a foolish mindset will cost you."

"Soon enough you'll come to realise why that won't be the case."

"Although it might appear that way, I don't fancy waiting."

Since this seemed to be an audio-only recording, Emily took the few seconds the voice paused to look around the room, taking note and trying to make sense of the expressions of the people around her. First there was Anderson who just like when they had arrived on the Citadel seemed to be the most affected. It had to be expected really. Out of everyone present, he was the one who had been closest to Arterius. She could only imagine what hearing something like this had to be like. Moving on there were the marines that had dutifully accompanied her on most of the steps of this increasingly more complicated mission, Alenko and Williams. The former looked as stoic as he appeared to be most of the times, not a crack visible in his expression. The latter not so much. While she wasn't as obviously hit by the recording as the captain, her shock was still evident. Even though it was impossible to tell, Shepard had gotten the impression that Williams had held the Spectre in high regards before Eden Prime. Although she luckily wasn't talking from personal experience, she suspected that seeing someone you looked up to fall like this was far from easy.

"The cause I've committed myself to leaves no room for failure. My success is a certainty," Arterius replied. "It has to be."

Next she looked at the councilors and Udina, all of which seemed to be doing very well with hiding the effect this recording had on them, their diplomatic backgrounds and experiences giving them an edge of the people in the room who weren't used to hiding how they felt at every turn to leverage some kind of advantage out of it. Their faces were simply straight, only the turian's mandibles seeming to be pressed against his jaw a little tighter than necessary.

"The cause you've committed yourself to is one of madness. Why do you refuse to see that?"

And finally there was the C-SEC officer, Garrus Vakarian, standing in front of the drone, its interface casting an orange shade on his grey, unmoving facial plates. As he stared at the drone in front of him, Emily couldn't say if it was the discipline most turians had drilled into their heads from an early age, his professionalism as a detective or simply the sense of having been right all along in regards to Benezia T'Soni still being alive that kept him this quiet. Realistically, it could be either of or all of the three things.

"Because the truth has blinded me to the lie we've lived all our lives, Councilor."

Returning her full attention back to the projection of the drone, a simple representation of a voice line, Emily now asked herself a very different question.

What the hell was the other turian talking about? Again, she couldn't claim to know him, but this didn't sound like something Saren Arterius would've said. This sounded like something taken straight out of some cult's manifesto. The only thing worse than a rogue Spectre was a crazy rogue Spectre.

"I fear that you're too far gone, Agent Arterius."

"If you embrace the truth and take your place at my side, I promise you that the fear will vanish."

"I'd rather choose death than watch you unleash these monsters on the galaxy."

Was she talking about the geth?

She had to be, right?

"I'm afraid you misunderstood, Councilor," another short pause followed as the flanging echoed through the silent chambers. "From here on out, none of us get to choose what we do. We are chosen and as expected of us, we will serve," as the electronic stuttering grew louder, Emily heard what sounded like a wince. "She's close to breaking, I can feel it. Continue the procedu-" as the recording turned into an increasingly louder repetition of white-noise, the N7 figured that this was all there was to the evidence the specialist had gotten from Tali.

"It was her," she heard the salarian councilor muttered. "That voice belonged to Councilor Benezia."

"Considering this recording, we have to assume that she's still alive," the turian added before turning to Irissa. "You have to inform the Republics at once. Find everyone who knew T'Soni. Someone had to know where she went before Arterius captured her."

"Sparatus, Valern," the asari sighed. "While I realise the implications of what I am about to say, I don't think that we should rush into this. We don't even know how old this recording is. For all we know Matriarch T'Soni could still be dead," the difference in how she refered to the lost councilor compared to her colleagues wasn't lost on the N7. But neither was the point she had. Ignoring what the asari stood to gain by the former councilor staying missing, Councilor Irissa was right. There was no reason to think her predecessor was still alive. Especially not after the ominous replies Arterius had given to her.

"Councilors, may I speak?" Udina asked.

"Of course, Ambassador."

"Setting aside Councilor Benezia's fate, this recording only further proves what General Arterius told us," General Arterius? Where they related or was 'Arterius' the turian equivalent of 'Smith'? Considering how these past few days had unfolded and judging by Anderson's visible reaction to the name, a clenched fist, it was likely to be the former. "we can't waste any more time than we already have. Saren has to be stopped and the people who can be trusted to do so are few and far between. So please. It's time to begin with the induction."

As the councilors shared a series of looks with each other before each nodding exactly once, Shepard wondered what was about to happen.

"Detective Vakarian, please step back," complying with the asari's 'request', the turian only removed the data drive from the drone before doing just that. Walking back to them all the while the drone returned to its original place. "Commander Emily Shepard, step forward."

Wait.

Where was this going?

Looking back to Anderson who only gave her a subtle head nudge into the direction of the councilors, Emily decided to comply. Not that there had been a lot of other options.

"Following Saren Arterius' treason against this council," the salarian continued in what was a slow pace for a member of his species, "he will have to be brought to justice. But given his long service in the Spectres and the lack of information regarding his actions, few can be trusted to face this task."

"But according to the words of your superiors and the assessment of your former supervisor, you belong to the group of people who can stop him."

Was this what she thought it was?

"Hence it is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Branch of the Citadel."

It certainly sounded like it was.

As with a lot of things lately, she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. Sure, she had set out to Eden Prime with the hopes of being good enough for this to become a possibility but right now, this didn't feel like it had gone down as intended. On the contrary actually, this felt like something akin to an act of desperation wrapped in a practiced speech.

"Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fires of service and battle. Those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file," Councilor Valern added before looking back at the asari.

"Spectres are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination and reliance," she said. "They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will."Or in her case, justice.

"Spectres bare a great burden," the third, turian member of the council spoke, his voice carrying a tone of command absent in the other two councilors. "They are protectors of galactic peace, both out first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold." Only now did it dawn on her that the person she was being sent after had probably been given the same speech.

"You are now a Spectre of the Citadel Council, Emily Shepard," the asari finished. "And unlike most, your first assignment will begin immediately," at this point it was probably just a formality to say it out loud. Everyone already knew what she would be ordered to do. "You are to bring in the rogue Spectre Saren Arterius and make him answer for his crimes against the Council."

"Additionally, you will also be tasked with ensuring the safe return of Councilor Benezia should she be alive," the turian councilor Sparatus threw in a second after. "And if not, to confirm her death."

"To complete this task, you will be given full access to the resources of the Spectres."

"And command of the Normandy," Udina suddenly added, causing her to glance back at Anderson who seemed to avoid her eyes as soon as he met them.

"This assignment is dangerous but we have faith that you will succeed." If that was what asari confidence was supposed to sound like, she definitely had misplaced a lot of her aunt's words of trusts as warnings over the years. "And although we know that this is an important event for your people," she added, looking at Udina, "your induction into the Spectres will have to remain a secret. At least for now."

She could see the logic behind that. Clueing Arterius off that someone new was coming to bring him in would only give up one of the few advantages she could see herself having over someone who had been survived and thrived in the most dangerous job the galaxy had to offer for nearly thirty years and who had an army of geth to back up his already impressive private resources.

Those were some great odds, weren't they?

"Finally we ask you not to delay your departure any further than necessary," the salarian finished before all three councilors looked at Udina, clariying that saying 'no' wasn't an option for her. Not that she would've done that either way. By the sound of it, far too much was riding on her stopping Arterius. She wasn't going to allow her uncertainty to get in the way of doing that. That wasn't how she had been raised.

"You're dismissed."


One Hour Later, Citadel, Docking Bay D-24

"Joker says the Normandy's ready to depart the moment we get on board," Alenko said as they passed the security check-point and she continued to read about what her newfound Spectre status was clearing her to do, which was basically just about everything. "He also says he received a data-package from the Presidum."

Those were probably the Spectre intel packages Udina had told her about before ushering her out of the embassy without even giving her the chance to talk to Anderson about what the specialist had said under the guise of wanting to ask him a few more things about her new opponent.

"Good tell him to-" she was about to finish her order when she turned the corner and bumped into a blonde man who instinctively went to rub his shoulder where her armor had stopped him dead in his tracks. "I'm sorry about that," sadly a brief apology was all she had time for right now.

"Oh my god, it's you!" the man exclaimed as his painful expression vanished in turn of a bright smile. "You're Commander Shepard!" for someone who had just ran into a hardsuit rated to stop assault rifles, he certainly was cheerful. "They gave you a medal during the Blitz, didn't they?"

"Uhm," again she found herself caught of guard. "Yes, they did," the N7 replied before trying to sidestep the man, only to find him jumping into her way and extending his hand.

"I'm Conrad. Conrad Verner," he said while enthusiastically shaking her hand after she had hesitantly taken his. "And I never thought I'd meet you in person. You! The Commander Shepard! You're my hero!"

"Well, now you did," she offered with a small smile. "But I really have to g-"

"They said you killed a hundred geth on Eden Prime, is that true?" he cut her off again, his voice and the words following the question becoming background noise as she picked up on a figure that definitely didn't belong into a human military dock.

What was he doing here?

"It was nice meeting you, Konrad, but I've got to go," she muttered before slightly shoving the man to the side and marching to the blue-armored figure waiting near another security terminal manned by several C-SEC officers who unlike him definitely had a reason to be here.

"Right. Of course. Don't let me stand in your way." She hadn't planned on it. "I'll see you around!" he called as she marched past him, hoping that he wouldn't. She had her fair share of public attention after the Skyllian Blitz. Cameras and interviews had already been enough, she didn't need a number one fan to top things off.

"What are you doing here?" she asked after having covered the small distance between where she had ran into the blonde man and the C-SEC post.

"The same thing you're doing," the turian shrugged. "Following orders."

"They gave you guard duty for bringing in that kind of evidence?" Williams aksed. "Damn, talk about ungrateful."

"No. Not exactly guard duty," he shook his head before unfolding his arms and letting them dangle at his sides. "I'm supposed to join you, help you bring back T'Soni. Executor Pallin's orders."

"Executor Pallin?" While she had no problem with the turian, as far as she knew that guy or C-SEC as a whole didn't have any business interfering with a Spectre's mission. Then again, maybe she hadn't reached that part of the manual yet. There were still a hundred pages left.

"Yes. Executor Pallin," the turian nodded. "Check your omni-tool again," he added with a wave of his hand that produced a small orange interface on his own wrist.

Closing the field manual and doing just that, she found the new message she had just received, the signature of one of her new superiors, the turian councilor, acting as the finishing line to a brief notice informing her of the 'cooperative' assignment C-SEC had requested her to take part in.

"This is cleared with the ambassador?"

"He's not the one giving you orders anymore, Commander," Vakarian replied. "Right hand of the Council, remember?"

"I do now," the red-haired marine nodded. "Alenko, tell Joker that we've got a guest," she instructed. "And tell Gardner to break out the dextro supplies."

"Appreciate it," the newest, unexpected addition to her team offered.

"Don't. I heard it tastes terrible," the biotic lieutenant replied.

"You did?"

"Worked with the Cabals a couple of times. The ones who were brave enough to try it didn't exactly like our take on your food."

"Great. There goes my appetite."

"Probably for the better."

"When the two of you are done chatting about dinner," Emily injected before continuing her way to the Normandy's airlock, which at this point was just a few turns away, "we have a mission to get back-" as she turned the corner and stared at the large alien reptile waiting next to the airlock and calmly observing the ships of the Citadel Fleet passing by in front of the window, she lost her line of thought for a few seconds. "-to," she finished with a delay as the krogan turned to her.

"Told you, you'd see me again," Wrex offered with a slight smirk before reaching for the large, beaten-looking footlocker at his left side.

"Ma'am?" Williams muttered from behind her, the unspoken question as to what they should do becoming clear thanks to her tone.

"C-SEC let you out already?" Shepard asked as she looked at the bounty hunter. Although he had made his personal interest in her mission clear, namely finding out what had happened to some of his people, she hadn't actually expected him to show up again. Or find a way into a closed-off HSA military dock as a matter of fact.

"Turns out keeping me locked up in the holding cell with a bunch of drunks is not a good idea."

"They didn't even try to put you in solitary?" she heard the turian ask as he stepped up next to her.

"Would you?"

"Not without Special Response," he replied dryly.

"Heh."

"Setting aside why you're walking free," she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"You know exactly why I'm here."

"Yes I know, but I meant what you're doing here," she repeated, pointing her finger at the ground. "How did you get past the checkpoint?"

"I worked for the Broker longer than any of you've been alive. Did you really think I didn't pick up on a few tricks along the way?"

"He means that he bribed, threatened or tricked the customs staff," Vakarian offered, again reminding her why she didn't particularly like that this was the only HSA dock HSA marines weren't allowed to guard for themselves.

"Thanks, I got that. Doesn't explain why it worked."

"Customs is pretty much the worst assignment in C-SEC," the turian shrugged. "They're not going to argue with someone like him unless they absolutely have to."

"You should listen to Blue over here. He gets it," Wrex replied with another smirk that vanished quickly when he turned towards the Normandy. "You know that I want my answers and trust me when I say that I'll get them one way or another. So you either take me with you or you might end up seeing me for a third time or a fourth time."

Was he trying to blackmail her?

Looking at the krogan again, Emily came to a realisation she knew she only even considered because she technically no longer answered to the HSA's chain of command.

If she was going to go after the longest serving turian member of the Spectres, a man according to classified intel had put most other living or dead agents of the Council to shame in regards to how good he was at his job, she'd need a lot more than a couple of marines and a C-SEC detective that appeared to be jaded with his own profession. She needed a big gun. Someone who could actually take Saren Arterius on in a one-on-one fight if it came down to that. And here she was, being handed one on a silver platter in form of a biotic krogan that could probably throw a small tank if he put his mind to it. Although still not sure about the bounty hunter's intentions, from a pragmatic point of view she knew that she wasn't going to get a much better chance than this. If it came down to it, having Wrex on their side might be crucial to the success of her mission.

"It's your call, Shepard."

"Alright," she finally said. "You're in."

She'd have a lot of explaining to do once those airlock doors opened.


8. January 2415 AD, Orbit Around Elysium, HSASV Makalu

"Guard rotations, officer postings, sick calls, replacements," he listed to the MP next to him as they entered the otherwise closed-off section of the dreadnought, "hell, even the cleaning detail. I want it all. Give me the names and service records of everyone who had any business being on this deck the day it happened."

"That's a lot of people."

"And I plan to look into all of them."

"Alright," the dark-haired Colonel Salib noted before looking up from her tablet. "Anything else I can do for you, Specialist?"

"Only for you to stop calling me that from here on out. If my cover is supposed to work, you'll need to start treating me like I'm one of your guys." Redford shrugged as they came to a halt in front of the office where the admiral had been found dead in. "It's better if people don't know Section 13's aboard."

"Copy that."

"This has been opened how many times since they found the admiral?" he asked as he examined the door and counted the number of seals that had been broken before the most recent one had been taped over the lock.

"Thrice. Once by Evidence, once by the decon-team to clear any residue of the neurotoxin Evidence found and once by the Makalu's XO to retrieve Kohaku's personal belongings."

"That's a lot of people walking around a crime site."

"We limited access as much as possible but when an admiral gets poisoned in his own quarters, its bound that a few people have to get in there and pick up the pieces."

That was an ample description for what he was here to do.

Pick up the pieces, find out who amongst the crew was responsible for the murder and rat out the IFS while he was at it.

"Well," he said before slipping a small pocket knife into his hand and sliding the blade across the thin tape, "You know what they say. Fourth time's the charm."

"That's not what they say and from now your sentences should always end with Ma'am or Colonel," Salib replied dryly as the door opened, causing him to turn back to her. "What? You wanted to be treated like one of my men, so that's what I'm doing."

"Fair enough,Ma'am," the blonde specialist offered before pulling another non-standard issue item from one of the pockets of the set of marine combat fatigues he had donned for the time being. Putting the pair of shades on and watching their HUD built a holographic depiction of how the room had looked before the evidence group and decontamination teams had done their job, Redford rubbed the back of his hand with the other before interlocking his fingers and stretching his arms forward. "Let's get to work."

"I still don't see why you want to take another look at the room. I thought you read all the reports on the way here. Do you think my guys worked sloppy?"

"No, that's not it, Ma'am. Far from it, actually. They did a spectacular job."

"Then what?"

"Unlike your guys, Ma'am" he offered while walking towards the piece of the floor where he saw a holographic depiction of Kohaku's dead body and the broken shards of glass that had been found near his hand, "I'm usually the bloke you try to find after something like this happens."


Codex: Feros

Hailed as the single greatest prothean discovery besides the Citadel and the Mass Relay network, two-thirds of the planet's surface is covered by a single megalopolis evidently designed to draw water from an equally enormous but even less explored aqueduct system leading all the way from the equator to the icy pools of the planet.

Although protected by law and semi-frequent patrols in the area, Feros' city has been subject to looters on countless occasions. Furthermore its vast distance from the Council's heart territory, questionable state of the structures themselves, some of which have spontaneously collapsed in the past and added to the dozens of meters of fallen debris covering the planet's ground level and unexplained disappearances of science teams venturing too far away from the few small outposts still present on the planet have made it a very unattractive goal for all but the most determined archeologist.

Although Feros is considered to be a garden world in every regard, it should be noted that indigenous flora and fauna are mostly unheard of. The most common and likely explanation for this phenomenon is that the prothean construction effort required to build this kind of megalopolis likely eradicated most of the native species by permanently altering Feros' original state, leaving behind only a number of invasive species like varren which likely first arrived on the planet alongside looters or pirates.

In 2415 AD/2156 CE a number of research outposts existed on the surface of Feros all of which had to be abandoned following [This information has been redacted by the authority of the Citadel Council].


A/N:

Yes. I'm late. As always

I knew I said 2-3 chapters per month.. roughly one month ago.

Turns out I horribly misjudged how much time I'dhave left at the end of every day, a state that will continue until the first week of june after which I HOPEFULLY will become more productive again.

My very low personal goal for until then is ONE more chapter, namely the next one.

Alright enough of this.

Let's talk chapter (I say it like that because after chapter talk, I've got something else to say that's been kind of time consuming)

So, we are finally OFF the Citadel and Wrex and Garrus are onboard for reasons very different than canon (this is a hint that you should start paying attention to one of the two a bit more carefully, maybe some of you'll figure out what I'm talking about before it's actually spilled out in the one POV scene planned for that). Tali, for obvious reasons isn't along for the ride... yet. Sorry all Tali fans but you don't recover from being shot that fast.

For those of you waiting on Liara...

Soon.

Like, next chapter soon probably.

Additionally to the beginning of our journey (hence the titel, some of you might know where its from), we also got to see Saren again.

On Feros.

With a bit of a twisted version of the Thorian that's mostly based on the fact that I PERSONALLY always had the impression that the thorian acted the way it did in ME 1 to Shepard because of what Saren had done to it, namely sent the geth after it, implying that before it was JUST an arrogant, know it all puppeteer parasite that actually gave a shit about its puppet and not... well kind of a dick who tries to murder everyone.

Additionally to Feros and the Citadel, which again I am glad it's over.. don't get me wrong, I liked writing it but it kind of dragged at the end there) we finally managed to get into Redford's storyline, which as some of you may have deduced by now, will be kind of a sidestory and more importantly... drumroll please

A polticial murder mystery.

Yeah.

It's gonna be far removed from the whole reaper stuff, obviously.

Now, of course I won't get all NCIS on you. The main focus of that arc is going to be on the IFS/HSA dynamic and how the Skyllian Blitz and namely the way it ended (I told you all it'd have consequences) kind of messed with the HSA's military.

So yeah.

For those of you who liked the more political intrigue stuff of SV, that's gonna be the shit.

Promise.

Jesus, it took way longer than expected (not in chapters but in real life time) to get here.

But again. Real life keeps catching up to me.

NOW

After chapter talk.

Something else that I've been thinking about for quite some time now, basically ever since I realised Semper Vigilo is picking up, is what else I want to do with this universe while I write the story and AFTER I'm done with the main plots of all games.

And after a lot of consideration, the idea that won is this.

Eventually, I don't know when, I'll start publishing (note not writing or collecting ideas) another fanfic that's going to consist of tie-in stories related to the main story. Now, to put it into a better perspective, these will be short stories (either single chapters or a couple of chapters each) loosley connected to each other taking place DURING, BEFORE, and... possibly (no spoilers) AFTER the events of Semper Vigilo and will focus on characters that don't necessarily get so many pov chapters in this fic.

The main inspiration for this was an Avatar episode some of you might know: "Tales of Ba Sing Se" and for the sake of disclosure, the idea that it won over was a Fringe Wars Prequel... once I realised that I can totally put Fringe Wars chapters into what's currently dubbed "Semper Vigilo, A Series of Loosely Connected Stories." (We'll work on the name.)

So. Just a little sneak-peak at what may come.

IF there's an interest for it to start somewhat sooner, the current plan is that I might publish the first single-chapter story of this new project at the end of the year. (Since it's not really set during the events of what's to come I feel free to say that it's gonna take place during the Krogan Rebellions and have a salarian character in it, guess with that what you want, here's a hint tho, it's based on a codex line.)

IF there isn't, it's only gonna see the light of day when I'm done with ME 1.

So yeah.

That's gonna happen eventually.

But the main focus will of course stay on SV. For anyone that got scared, this story is still happening and it's the main focus of my attention. We will go all the way to then end and it's gonna be awesome.

For the record we're at 443 Reviews, 694 Favorites and 785 Follows.

That's huge. Almost 700 favorites and almost 800 follows.

Soon.

See you around next time.