"Oh, I get it. It's good cop bad cop." Harkin scoffed.
"If you like." said Garrus. "But as you can see, we're a bit short staffed here, so if I give you a cigarette would you mind punching yourself in the face?"
Sitting in one of the dark private rooms of Cora's Den, I watched as Garrus Vakarian put the screws to Roger Harkin, one of the first human C-Sec officers and 'a disgrace to the species' according to Anderson. I couldn't help but agree. Harkin was as drunk as he was dishonest and known for roughing up suspects, taking bribes and abusing drugs an alcohol. The official reason for his suspension had been for drinking on the job; however, Garrus informed me that he'd been removed because he had failed report a possible shooting down in the Wards.
"Normally," Garrus had explained, "A shooting in the Wards is run of the mill kind of stuff. But because this is Harkin, and because he was trying to hide it…I know there's more to it."
So I stood in the corner in my 'appropriate civilian attire', sidearm carefully concealed under my leather jacket as Garrus continued his questioning.
"Fuck you, Garrus."
"Commander Shepard, would you mind closing the curtains?"
"Not at all." I replied.
"Commander?" Harkin's tone conveyed significantly less confidence. "Anderson's crew?"
"Don't worry about him." Garrus withdrew his stun gun and pressed it into Harkins groin. "Worry about me. No cameras in this room. Music's pretty loud. Maybe you're just getting a really rough dance."
"Fuckin hypocrite."
Garrus sighed, withdrew the gun and turned to me. "I'm done with this, Commander, you can take him now."
I didn't let my face display the sudden confusion followed by the sudden realization of Garrus' strategy. He was playing Harkin like a little violin.
"Take me? Take me where?"
"I don't know, Harkin. He's on council business. He doesn't need to tell you or me for that matter. If you give us the information we're looking for, we'll be on our merry little way."
"Alright, alright! I'll tell you whatever you want to know." Harkin said, a little panicked.
"Really?" said Garrus. "What's the orbital velocity of the second moon of Palaven?"
"What?"
"Oh, you'd like something simpler?" Garrus lowered his voice and moved closer to Harkin. "Fine. Which clinic did the Quarian go to? And Spirits save you if you lie to me again."
"Upper Wards. Doctor Michel. Christ, Garrus I gave you what you want, now let me rot in peace!"
Like most turians born on Palaven, Garrus Vakarina had started his military training at age fifteen, but later decided to follow in his father's footsteps and become a C-Sec officer. He shared in my disappointment with the council, and my belief that sometimes one needed to step on a few toes to do the right thing.
However, pissing on the proverbial electric fence has consequences and can be a dangerous way to think. Garrus often became upset when rules and regulations limited his ability to do his job of applying the rules and regulations. Such is the way of bureaucracy. Red tape can sometimes kill more people than bullets. In the case of Saren, Garrus was facing more of a red wall and he was determined to get through it.
I found my friendship with Garrus blossomed incredibly easily, like we'd known each other our whole lives and all that was needed was a little catching up. Even now, no matter how much distance or time separates us, we can slip right back to where we last left off, as if it were nothing. Equal parts brother and friend, Garrus could be silent with me in a moment of despair or confusion, could stay with me in an hour of grief and bereavement, could tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with me the reality of our powerlessness. The antidote for fifty enemies is one friend. Garrus and his sniper rifle were an antidote for hundreds.
Garrus also taught me how to think like a cop, and less like a soldier. "Marines are all shoot first, shoot later, and get ready for more shooting. No questions in there anywhere." He taught me to watch for the little subtleties in facial movements when questioning different species. He caused me to open my eyes to my surroundings and truly take everything in. He gave me a new perspective on things. As a soldier, your enemy is usually clear and usually on the other side of your weapon. When you're a cop, your enemies could be everywhere and you're usually right in the middle. The whole world is one big grey zone.
Neither of us expected the sight we were presented with upon entering Doctor Chloe Michel's office. There, a human mercenary held her up against the wall and was pressing a gun to her forehead, shouting at her to tell him "where the girl went".
"I didn't tell anyone! I swear!" Her words were choked beneath terrified sobs and tears were streaming down her face. Garrus and I quickly drew our weapons.
The merc took notice and grabbed Dr. Michel, intent on using her as a human shield and pointed his weapon directly at Garrus. This was one of those 'I never want to be in this situation' kind of situations. What do you do? Do you shoot him because your life is in danger, or because your friend's life is in danger? Do you consequently endanger the life of his hostage in the process? Do you let him shoot you? Do you let him shoot her? Seconds matter.
Garrus shot him right between the eyes, faster than I could even process the situation. I can't say that I agreed with Garrus' method, though I couldn't argue with his results. I heard Dr. Michel scream and saw her go down with the merc, but before I could go to her three more men with guns and armour ambushed us.
I felt the air move as a bullet very nearly missed my head and I dove for cover behind a half wall. I planted down some covering fire at random intervals in order to draw their attention towards my position while Garrus sprinted around the reception area and through the examination room entrance for a flank. About thirty seconds later, I heard a door open, three shots fired and then finally quiet.
Garrus rushed over to Dr. Michel's side and I was relieved to find her shaken, scared, but very much alive, clinging to Garrus while she tried to catch her breath.
"Fist's men." She said, panting. "They came here to shut me up. To keep me from telling Garrus about the quarian. A few days ago, she came in. She'd been shot and she wouldn't tell me who did it. She was on the run."
Garrus led her to a bench and sat her down with a blanket from a nearby cot.
"She asked me about the Shadow Broker. She wanted to trade information for a safe place to hide." She brought her small hand to her forehead and swiped away locks of short auburn hair. "So…I put her in contact with Fist. He's an agent for the Shadow Broker."
Garrus looked at me with a tinge of concern in his eyes. "Fist was always an amateur asshole but the bastard decided to go pro on me. He works for Saren now and the Shadow Broker isn't too happy about it."
While on the Citadel I had actually visited a more reputable information broker in search of information on Saren. Of course, it had been a complete wash. The broker that I had visited though spoke of the Shadow Broker like a creature out of a storybook. Some great, invisible hand that had its fingers everywhere, that knew everything. The quarian we were looking for must have had something that Saren wanted bad enough that he was willing to cross the Shadow Broker to get it. I started to get my hopes up.
"She must have something that proves he's a traitor. Did she mention anything about Saren? Or the geth?" I asked, hoping to get the answer I so desperately needed at this point.
"She did!" Michel replied. "The information she was going to trade, she said it had something to do with the geth."
"If she went to Fist, she's in danger. We've got to move on this, fast." I said.
Garrus took a look around the room. "You know, we aren't the only ones going after Fist. The Shadow Broker hired a krogan bounty hunter named Wrex to take him out."
Urdnot Wrex, a famed krogan mercenary and bounty hunter, immediately impressed me. Just his size alone was enough to intimidate. However, despite his brutish appearance, Wrex rarely lost his temper. The mere threat of his anger was usually enough to frighten people into giving him what he wanted. When his fury was unleashed, on the other hand, it was a truly terrifying sight.
He didn't speak much. He rarely had to because when he did decide to speak, his words were often shockingly blunt and very much to the point. The way in which he delivered his words was enough to get people to listen. At nearly 700 years old, there were few scenarios that he had not experienced and he was rarely ever surprised by a situation.
I said before that there was such a thing as a 'natural soldier' and that most of them end up in the military. The ones that don't, however, usually fall into mercenary work. Like the soldier, the mercenary doesn't want to kill people as such, however they have no issues doing so, so long as they can justify it. They are motivated to take part in the hostilities essentially by the desire for private gain. As a result of the assumption that a mercenary is essentially motivated by money, the term mercenary usually carries negative connotations. I always thought of them as people making their way in the world the only way they knew how, just like me.
When I approached Wrex, I was surprised that he'd heard of my exploits as well and respected me as a fellow warrior. When I explained that I was going after Fist (dressed in full battle armour and accompanied by Kaidan and Ash at this point), he was more than willing to lend his expertise.
"My people have a saying," he said. "Seek the enemy of your enemy, and you will find a friend."
"We have a very similar saying." I replied. I knew right then, Wrex and I would get along just fine. Until we found Fist, at least.
When we reached Cora's Den this time around, it was dead quiet. There was no line outside the, no foot traffic anywhere around the place, the bouncer was missing, and the music had died.
"I get the feeling we're walking into an ambush." Kaidan muttered.
"That's because we are." Said Garrus. "He knows we're coming."
Wrex cocked his shotgun, shoved us aside and hacked the door to the club. "Let's not keep Fist waiting, then."
Before I could yell 'stop', the door flew open and we were instantly bombarded with gunfire. There were men behind the bar, on the stage and in the balcony. It was here I was able to witness Wrex's skilled use of powerful biotics combine with expert knowledge of advanced weaponry. He started blazing his own path through the enemy line with no regard for the rest of us. After nearly two centuries of working alone, working as part of a team did not naturally return to Wrex.
"Kaidan, cover fire! Ash with me, right! Garrus go left find Wrex! Watch for blue on blue!" I called through the comm as fast as I could.
Urban combat is very different from combat in the open at both the operational and tactical level and is exhausting, both mentally and physically. The environment is completely three-dimensional, booby traps and snipers are common, civilians can get caught in the cross fire and the consumption of ammo is nearly doubled. The chance for friendly fire is also greatly increased, and requires troops to react and correctly select targets almost instinctively. As Ash and I rounded the corner around the stage, I came face to face with Wrex's shotgun and unconsciously tried to knock it out of his hands. All I managed to do was point it towards the ceiling instead of my face.
"Relax, Shepard, I wasn't going to shoot you. All you humans look the same." He let out a low 'ha' sound that I suspected was a laugh.
"In any case," I said, trying to push my anger and frustration for him aside, "wait for my order next time."
Kaidan came jogging up behind me and we re-balmed our ammunition and stacked beside the door that led to the back offices. On my signal, Kaidan hacked the door and I was second behind Ash to push through.
We quickly took out the two mercs who had obviously been tasked with protecting Fist before the man himself emerged from cowering behind his desk, hands in the air.
Wrex, again unable to contain himself, strode past us, threw his desk aside and viciously pinned Fist against the wall.
"Where's the quarian." He said slowly.
Fist was desperately clawing at the hands clenched around his throat. I could see his face turning deeper shades of purple while he attempted to speak. Wrex lifted him off the ground.
"Questioning suspects is usually easier when their windpipes haven't been crushed." Garrus offered.
Wrex breathed out a frustrated sigh and let Fist fall unceremoniously to the floor. I knelt down while he struggled to catch his breath.
"She…isn't here." His voice was hoarse and rough and I knew Wrex had done some serious damage. "She…would only meet with the Shadow Broker...face to face."
Meeting with the Shadow Broker face to face was impossible, as everyone associated with them was hired through an agent. Fist had used this quarian's trust and naivety and sent her right into Saren's hands.
"Tell me where this meeting is." I growled.
"Back alley of the markets. She's headed there now." He sobbed. "Please. I don't want to die."
I hauled him to his feet and turned to Garrus who was preparing to take him into custody. Fist was a thug, a thief, and if his plan to lead the quarian into Saren's hands worked, he was also a murderer. Nothing would have made me happier than to kill him where he stood, but it wouldn't have been justice.
"We've-"
The deafening blast of Wrex's shotgun and the feeling of Fist's blood splattering across my face cut off my words. Wrex had shot him point blank in the chest and I watched his body slide against the wall to the floor, leaving a crimson trail as it went.
Ash was the first to train her weapon on Wrex. "Drop the gun, krogan!"
Wrex shouldered his shotgun and removed a piece of Fist's chest cavity from his armour.
"The Shadow Broker paid me to kill him. And I don't leave jobs half done." He turned his attention to me, ignoring the other two weapons pointed at his head. "Didn't mean to make a mess of your armour, Shepard."
I rarely raise my voice or lose my cool. As an officer, it's not my job to do so. And I firmly believe that yelling and screaming is not the best way to get a particular point across. In this case it was necessary to assert my authority, without further escalating the situation or provoking Wrex to fight.
"If you want to do this, you do it my way!" I barked "No more lone wolf bullshit, no more mercenary tactics. You follow my lead or we part ways here and now." I hoped Wrex could tell I had reached the end of my patience.
He took a second to process my offer, or threat and smiled. Wrex's smile was particularly frightening, because it never gave away his true intentions. "I like you, Shepard."
With the situation defused, and the clock running down, Garrus stayed at Cora's to deal with the impending C-Sec investigation while I took Ash, Kaidan and Wrex with me to find the quarian. I knew we'd be getting there late and I had no intentions on causing another hostage situation.
I quietly signaled for Ash to take a position of overwatch in a shop above the alley while we waited in the shadows.
"She's meeting with a turian." Ash's hushed voice whispered over the comm. "I don't have a clear shot."
"Keep on him, hold fire."
"Wait. She's backing off…contact!"
The quarian had apparently refused to deal with Saren's men. I saw her take out two assassins with an explosion while Ash's shot nearly took the turian's head off. With the threat eliminated, I had the others maintain a perimeter while I approached the now shaken quarian.
"Thanks for the help." She breathed. "Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Please tell me you're one of the good guys."
I smiled, introduced myself and escorted her to Udina's office.
Tali had been in all the wrong places at all the wrong times. Planning on starting her pilgrimage at Illium, she and her crewmates had stopped to investigate geth presence on a remote ice world. She managed to extract a geth data core (a feat few quarians can even accomplish) and stumbled upon a recording linking Saren to the attack on Eden Prime. Saren's hired thugs then tried to kill her.
Exercising complete disregard for her own personal safety, Tali tried to hand over the evidence to the local authorities on Illium. There, she faced nothing less than complete prejudice and discrimination that allowed for her attackers to dock before her and set up an ambush. Once Tali and crew had made their way through the red tape, they were attacked and Tali watched a friend die.
At this point, most people would have ditched the evidence and went back home.
Tali and Keenah'Breizh stowed away on a turian transport bound for the citadel. There, she was turned away by C-Sec, denied an audience with the council and once again attacked by Saren's thugs. She was shot in her side and her friend Keenah was mortally wounded, but she had managed to kill her attackers. At that point, she went to Doctor Michel, got in contact with Fist and endured one more ambush. All of this for a ten second recording.
If she were Alliance, I would have given her a medal. But since she was a twenty-two year old quarian, she was met with suspicion, disbelief and bigotry.
The human faculties of perception, judgment, discriminative feeling, mental activity and even moral preference, are exercised only in making a choice. Someone who does anything because it is the custom makes no choice.
I sat in Udina's office, dirty, sweaty and covered in Fist's blood, listening to the recording over and over again. Unfortunately, it left us with more questions than answers.
"Eden Prime was a major victory! The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit."
It was clearly Saren's voice, and Garrus had been able to confirm it through C-Sec investigative voice matching, but there was a second voice, a female voice.
"And one step closer to the return of the Reapers."
Reaper. I felt like I'd heard the term before. And while I watched everyone's face contort with confusion at the word, I felt a flash of fear. A feeling of dread, as old and familiar as possible, emerged from deep down inside me.
Reapers were, according to Tali, a race of highly advanced synthetic machines that existed 50,000 years ago and had hunted the Protheans to extinction. The geth revered them, considered them gods and were searching for the conduit in order to summon their wrath against organic life. None of this seemed new to me. I felt like I'd heard all this before and the questions and disbeliefs of Anderson and Udina were incredibly frustrating.
I spent the next several hours in Udina's office arguing that this ten-second tape was enough to incriminate Saren and get the council involved. I was exhausted. I needed a shower, a hot meal and a warm bed, but I stayed there refusing to leave until we had reached some sort of resolution. Garrus, Tali and Wrex had also asked to stay and I encouraged their presence while Kaidan and Ash attended to the Normandy's maintenance and replenishment routine.
Udina sat at the end of a large conference table, incessantly tapping his ring on the polished wood.
"That second voice is going to cause a bit of a problem." He grumbled. "He has an accomplice, or perhaps he's not even in charge."
"It still doesn't change the fact that he's involved." I snapped back. "We need to take this to the council so we can get after him."
"That voice…" Garrus looked up at the ceiling, searching his mind for something. "It's definitely female. Not turian…"
"And how can you be sure of that?" Udina challenged.
Garrus narrowed his gaze. "I know I don't look like much, ambassador, but I've spent a fair amount of time around turian females. I even have a mother…and a sister. Had a girlfriend once too."
Udina's constant mistrust of everyone was causing me to lose my patience, again. "He's right." I said. "The flanging effect isn't there."
Garrus sat back in his chair and continued. "The pitch, tone, and rate suggest maturity. She's confident. Almost dominant. She fully believes in her cause. She's almost reverent."
I must admit I was extremely impressed with Garrus' ability to construct a personality from eight words.
"I'd say most likely suspects are either a human female between the age of forty and sixty…" I could see Udina about to go off on another tangent before Garrus cut him off. "Or asari. A matron, or quite possibly a matriarch."
"Are you sure about this?" Asked Anderson.
"No." Garrus shook his head. "Everyone has a distinct voice, different from all others; almost like a fingerprint, one's voice is unique and can act as an identifier. But the recording is too short to get a proper ID and even then, that kind of evidence is flimsy."
I sighed and rubbed my eyes to keep them from closing involuntarily. "While I agree there's a possibility the voice is human, it seems very unlikely. Saren hates humans."
"Which leaves us with asari." Garrus shifted his posture, lacing his arms on the table and leaning towards me. "Have you ever heard of the Consort, Shepard?"
The next morning, I woke up clean, fed, but no less exhausted. I started having nightmares after Mindoir and I understood them as a symptom of post-traumatic stress, but I hadn't had one for many years. I had sort of trained my mind into dreaming of my family, my peaceful family, rather than how I last saw them during the raid.
Nightmares are common among soldiers and are mostly caused by stress. I used to have very vivid nightmares even during training where I'd find myself without proper kit, unprepared for a situation, late for a timing, or a combination of all three. Every so often I'd have a dream that involved friends who had fallen, or operations that had gone wrong and were lingering in the depths of my mind, but nothing that caused me concern.
The nightmares I started having after I had touched the beacon were different. The images were alien and unfamiliar but the feelings of fear and terror were recognizable. I'd wake up abruptly, usually shooting out of bed, covered in sweat. I'd calm myself down; tell myself it wasn't real and go back to sleep. After Eden Prime, I don't think I ever slept for more than three consecutive hours at a time.
Any lingering feelings of anxiety were almost instantly put to rest upon entering the Consort's salon. The décor, the music, the smell, it was all intended to put one at total ease.
Garrus' position within C-Sec allowed us to bypass the absurdly long waiting list for an appointment and I alone was escorted to Sha'ira's office. Her office was surprisingly simple. She sat behind a large glass table, legs crossed and fingers interlocked, allowing me to appreciate what most humans would consider a very evocative floor length dress. A couch and small lounge area was set off in the corner and a large one way window allowed her to observe the traffic from her high building suite.
Sha'ira was something out of a classic romance. She was beautiful and effortlessly graceful. Her skin was free of any facial markings and almost glowed, betraying her centuries of existence. I suddenly realized why her appointment waiting list was four months long. She radiated a sort of refined sensuality that many found irresistible.
She invited me to sit with a simple motion of her hand and got straight to the point. "Commander Shepard, I've heard much about you. What can I do for you?"
As a highly powerful and respected matriarch, I expected no less, and judging by her reputation I knew she could be trusted to be discreet.
I took a breath before I began. "I'm currently investigating a rogue Spectre, Saren Arterius. I've found a recording linking him to the attacks on Eden Prime, however there was a second voice in that recording."
"And you wish me to help you identify that second voice." She said gently.
"I'd like to go to the council with as much information as possible, yes." She understood my motives, and sat back in her chair while I let the recording play. I watched her face for any movement or indication that she recognized the voice. If she did know, she didn't show it.
The recording ended and I waited for her to speak. Enough time passed that I began to think this visit had been a waste of precious time. I saw her eyes drift towards the floor for an instant before her eyes landed on mine.
"The voice on your recording is that of Matriarch Benezia." Her words were almost pained.
"Can you be sure?"
"I have known the T'Soni family for centuries, though I have not spoken to Benezia for some time. She is highly respected and revered among our people as a teacher of religion and philosophy. She is well known. The T'Soni name itself is held in extremely high regard."
"Is there any reason you can think of that would have lead her to work alongside Saren?"
Sha'ira gave me a genuine look of uncertainty. "Her actions do not speak of her true character. I am…surprised by all of this. I had heard she had allied herself with a turian Spectre, but I thought they were terrible rumours."
At that point, I was only somewhat familiar with asari culture, drawing on what I was taught in high school and through the Alliance. I knew that the family was the basis of asari social structure. They maintain an intricate web of family and friends to call upon and prefer to work with those they know they can trust. I also knew that the wrongdoing of one family member could bring dishonour to the entire family name. For a matriarch of Benezia's stature to soil a name that had apparently been revered for millennia was almost unfathomable.
"I'm not looking to start a witch hunt." I told her honestly. "I just want to find Saren and stop him."
"Of course." She smiled. "You should know she has a daughter. Doctor Liara T'Soni. This news will be distressing to her."
"Do you know where I can find her?"
"Unfortunately, I do not. She is an expert in Prothean culture and technology. She is a scientist and an archeologist. She has accomplished much in her young life. She is…unique."
Sha'ira spoke of Liara with a fondness reserved for close friends and family. If I could find Liara, she could give me insight into her mother, and if I could track down her mother, she might lead me to Saren.
"Then perhaps I should find her." I shifted to the edge of my seat indicating I was getting ready to leave. "Thank you, Consort. Your assistance in this matter is greatly appreciated."
She gave me a curt nod and a gentle smile before she stood with me as I started making my way to the door. I felt her hand on my shoulder and turned to face her.
"I see you… your uniform fits as though you were born wearing it. You are a soldier through and through. Proud, solitary… alone, but it gives you strength." She took my face in her hands, and looked at me as if she was trying to solve a puzzle. "I also see the sadness behind your eyes. It tells a story that makes me want to weep. Pain and loss. And…anger."
Sha'ira was known for many things. She provided comfort for some, entertainment and stimulating conversation for others, but she was especially known for the value of her advice.
"This is who you are…but it is not who you will become." She smiled softly again and let her hands fall from my face. "Hate is a great burden to bear. You are capable of so much more.
"Take care of those around you, Commander Shepard. They will return in kind."
I thanked her for the free advice and descended the long, white staircase and caught Garrus' eye. He excused himself from the company of an attractive asari acolyte and we made our way for the salon's exit.
Neylina, Sha'ira's personal assistant smiled at the two of us and gave us a courteous bow. "Be well, Commander. You as well, Detective."
"Sa echarista." I replied, trying my very best not to offend her with my pronunciation. Her smile grew and we stepped out into the presidium commons.
"You speak asari? That's impressive," said Garrus. "Not many humans speak it."
"Only a little. I did some jungle warfare training on Niacal. You?" I asked with interest.
"Not really," Garrus said with a tone so disarming I knew he was lying. "My asari is pretty much limited to useful phrases like, 'Are these snakes poisonous?' and 'But you look much too young to be a police officer."
We made our way back to Udina's office and prepared to resume where we had left off the previous evening. Having the Consort identify the second voice in the recording was a major step forward and Udina was confident enough to present our findings to the council following comparative voice analysis provided by C-Sec. The evidence was still flimsy by legal standards, but enough to get the ball rolling.
Anderson, Udina, Tali, Garrus, Wrex and I all sat at an obscenely large conference table across from all three council members as we discussed the implications of the tape.
Councilor Tevos confirmed the inclusion of Matriarch Benezia and was equally surprised and disturbed as Sha'ira had been.
"Matriarch Benezia is a powerful biotic, and she had many followers. She would make a formidable ally for Saren." She said.
While they all agreed Saren would be stripped of his Spectre status and brought to trial for the destruction of Eden Prime, the council absolutely refused to believe that he was searching for a way to bring back the Reapers.
"Listen to what you're saying." Sparatus spat in his most patronizing voice. "Saren wants to bring back the machines that wiped out all life in the galaxy? Where did the Reapers go? Why did they vanish? How come we've found no trace of their existence?" He rhymed off those questions with such speed and arrogance it made my blood boil.
I was clenching my jaw so hard I'm surprised my teeth didn't shatter. "I tried to warn you about Saren and you ignored me. Tali tried to give you this recording days ago and you turned her away. Perhaps you should open your minds a little more before you make the same mistake for a third time." I said as calmly as possible.
Sparatus glared at me and the heat in the room increased by a few degrees.
Valern interjected before Sparatus could respond "The truth is that we don't know Saren's true purpose. The Reapers are obviously a myth. A legend he is using to bend the geth to his will."
No. I felt as if I was slamming my head against the wall. "The beacon showed me a vision. I saw the Reapers destroy all galactic civilization fifty thousand years ago! And if Saren gets that Conduit, it will happen again."
Always the first to play the skeptic whenever an idea was raised, Sparatus, when forced to accept the truth of claims he previously dismissed, was always just as dismissive of any recriminations against him or his ideas of the truth, instead shifting the focus back to more pressing issues at hand. Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies. Sparatus and the other council members adamantly refused and denied the Reaper threat and the topic shifted to finding and capturing Saren.
Udina demanded a fleet be sent, but after some discussion, he agreed that sending the Citadel fleet had a potential of provoking an intergalactic war with the Terminus Systems. Humanity's colonies would have to make due with the sparse defenses the Alliance could provide.
I listened to the bickering continue for a few more minutes before casually stating that I would bring Saren down myself.
The council took a few minutes to debate among themselves and decided that my idea was their best option. For Udina, it was a perfect situation. A fleet wouldn't be necessary, Saren would be brought down and humanity would get the credit.
"If that's the case, I want him made a Spectre. You have a vacancy." Udina sat back in his chair with an unmistakable look of confidence on his face.
Despite what popular culture tends to believe, there are no sacred words to be said, no religious undertones or great warrior induction to the ranks of the Specters. My appointment was made after hours and hours of back room political dealings, arguments and compromises.
I was given immediate access to council resources, which meant personnel, highly classified technology, including weapons and ammunition, armour and transport. While I still belonged to the Alliance and fell under the rank system, I answered to the council directly.
"He'll need a ship." Anderson said quietly. "The Normandy's quick quiet, and you know the crew. It's the perfect ship for a Spectre." He gave me a faint smile. "Treat her well, Commander."
I stared back in disbelief, but the look he gave me in return told me he would explain everything in private.
"Good." Udina interrupted. "Saren's gone. Don't even try to catch him. I suggest you start with this asari, Matriarch Benezia."
"We don't know if she's involved, but she has a daughter, Liara T'Soni." Garrus sat forward in his chair, brought up a projection on the star map in the center of the table and continued. "I did some digging and I found she was given a research grant to explore a dig site on one of the uncharted worlds of the Artemis Tau cluster. Might be a good place to start. See what she knows."
"Do we have a more specific address?" I asked.
"Unfortunately, no." He sighed. "However, your Spectre status should speed up the research process. We could gain access to the grant specifics."
"Speaking of Spectre status and specifics, I'd like to discuss Wrex, Tali and Garrus officially made members of the Normandy crew and part of this mission. They have been invaluable thus far." I gave Sparatus my more iron like stare, calling on him to object. He didn't.
"We will make the appropriate arrangements." Councilor Tevos said softly. "So long as you can properly accommodate them."
Dextro crewmembers would complicate things for my chief cook; however, I was willing to stress him out a little more for the sake of our mission.
After the arrangements for my official induction ceremony were made, our marathon of a meeting was finally adjourned. That night, Anderson and I shared a drink together in a small bar just outside of the embassy.
"I'm not the first human Spectre…am I?" I asked quietly.
Anderson sipped his drink and looked back at me. "Actually, you are. I was never a Spectre, that's just an old rumor that won't seem to die. I was being considered for it. I was on a job with Saren actually, and it went…awry."
When I said nothing, he continued.
"We accomplished our mission, but many, many innocent lives were lost. He told the council it was my fault and it was enough to keep me out. Now that you're an actual Spectre you'll be able to read the details, if you want. But the moral of the story is that I had my chance and it didn't take. The torch is in your hands now." He smiled.
"Don't know if it should be me." I said honestly.
I knew what being a Spectre entailed. I had read the privileges and responsibilities cover to cover a dozen times to the point where I had memorized every word, but I don't think it had sank in just how much power I had, and how much responsibility it placed in my hands.
"I think I know you well enough by now. You're a good man, Shepard. A good soldier, a great leader." He smiled and raised his glass, "Absolute power corrupts absolutely." He clinked my glass and put it to his lips before he finished, "but only if you are corruptible."
Anderson and I had a few moments where we weren't mentor and mentee, we weren't superior and subordinate, we were instead father and son. It was those moments I enjoyed the most with him.
"You'll make me proud." He said. "You always do."
We finished our drink and a brief informal handover of command of the Normandy before turning in for the night. The ceremony was arranged for the early afternoon the next day, despite my own protests. The fact was a publicly broadcasted ceremony was good for morale. It was considered a massive step forward for humanity and the Alliance within intergalactic politics and I had to do my part. If that meant standing tall in my dress blues in front of the council surrounded by media and dignitaries, then I would do it.
Though I've always been uncomfortable with the amount of press and praise heaped upon me, I understood its necessity. More than the Alliance, more than Udina, more than any other human I was humanities representative and I could not fail.
It was almost overwhelming. The ceremony was lavish and expensive, but relatively short. I stood on the petitioner's stage, just like in the vids, while the councilors addressed me, 'officially' granting me all the powers and responsibilities of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel.
I was a symbol. An ideal. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. I was an instrument of the Council.
The ceremony concluded with the repetition of "Me káthe mésa" which roughly translates from asari to "by any means."
I stopped at Spectre requisitions, ensured all maintenance and replenishment was complete, found bunk space for my three new crewmembers, addressed the entire crew to brief them on the situation, met with my command staff, charted a course for Artemis Tao and disembarked from the Citadel.
I moved my things to my new private quarters and sat at the small workstation, idly thumbing threw a stack of research grants issued to Doctor Liara T'Soni. She's been busy. I mused as I continued through the stack. The last one caught my eye.
I keyed the intercom. "Pressly."
"Yes, sir." Came the quick response.
"Set a course for Therum."