Summary: Shepard manages to secure the information the Council needs, but the conclusion of one exercise beyond her typical purview has the unexpected consequence of thrusting her right into a new one. The massive scale of what is now being placed on her threatens the skewed sense of normalcy her life had before the Normandy. And she struggles to find a way to come to terms with it all.
Acknowledgements: I want to throw many kudos and flowers at the feet of my beta readers-xforeverquotex and my paramour. You guys are amazing and I appreciate your time and assistance with this piece.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, I'm only playing with their universe. I do not own the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do it for the love of the game, the world, and the characters; and because they stuck with me long after I turned the game off (and back on, and off, ad infinitum).
08 Chasing Intel
i.
There were four hours left on her timer and Shepard intended to steal one. Stopping at the Fifth Fleet HQ she briefed Anderson on what she'd discovered and even let him in on her plan to play nice with the krogan and the turian. The commander had explained away his concerns as using the resources you had available. It was a stance Anderson couldn't argue with too much, though he didn't like the idea of her going anywhere with a krogan without a full squad for back up. Of course, she wasn't too keen on it either, but her assessment of the situation told her the risks were minimal.
Back on the ship, she discovered someone must have been playing a screwed up game of musical armor sets because everyone's left glove was not their own. After returning Niveda's gauntlet and reappropriating her own from Crosby's kit, Shepard set out on a personal quest to regain a little sense of humanity.
It had only been about twelve hours since her day started but it felt longer and was definitely stranger than even her usual. She thought she might just need to unwind a little bit to get it all to fall back into place. A hot shower made her feel a less tense, though it hadn't provided quite as much relief as she'd hoped. Just at that point when she'd been warmed by the water almost to the point of soothing, she heard Alenko's voice in her head again along with the little nervous flutter in her chest that had accompanied the statement at the overlook. For a moment she smiled when she remembered the blush in his cheeks and the nervousness in his voice as he'd tried to backpedal and correct what he'd said.
She turned and pressed her hands against the wall, lifting her face into the stream of water. Then the officer in the back of her head snapped to and overtook the image. Nyx's life had always had priorities, and her career had always been the foremost. In the past she'd been flirted with before, even by men she had worked with, but she had never taken the bait. A part of her felt what was happening with Alenko was not that simple. He wasn't throwing lines at her or making innuendos. The lieutenant was letting things slip, revealing things he didn't seem to mean to. It was endearing and confusing; promising and frightening.
Usually Nyx kept her personal life far away from her own specialty-she had dated a medic and a weapons specialist, but never had the inclination or the interest been there for her to even consider starting something with anyone in her own specialty, let alone her own squad. Part of her reconciled this new dilemma with the reality of it all. She'd met him before she'd known he would be on the Normandy, let alone part of her squad. But when it all came down to it, Shepard knew it didn't matter. Not really. There were regs about this-clear cut, fairly easily understood rules about fraternization within the same chain of command. In their association it was doubly clear-as a crewmember of the Normandy and as part of her squad-she was twice as culpable.
What the hell is going on with you, Shepard? This isn't like you. You don't get hung up on things, especially men. Maybe it's specifically because you know he's off limits. And humans always want what they can't have. She knew that wasn't a viable explanation for her distraction, but it was as good an excuse as any and seemed to quiet her subconscious for the time being.
Shepard grabbed a large cup of coffee from near the mess hall on the way back to her quarters. By the time she finished it she had nearly completed the transition back to almost human. Within a half an hour of returning to the ship, she was re-armored and ready to meet with the aliens she'd set an appointment with. She had lingered a little longer than she planned in the hopes that Caz might ping her before she left to meet with the aliens. Her old friend had been silent, which wasn't wholly unexpected given the grab bag of information she'd off-handedly asked him for. In fact thinking about it she knew it was a little unreasonable to think he'd be able to get back to her in less than sixteen hours, and that would only be if he'd seen the message immediately.
After tucking her gauntlets into a pouch on her belt, she looked up and noticed the staff lieutenant leaning on the bulkhead that separated the bridge from the helm. As she approached he wordlessly straightened and stood a step behind her at her right shoulder.
"Something I can help you with, Lieutenant?" she asked as she waited for the airlock to open.
"Not at all, ma'am."
When she stepped in, he followed. Shepard turned her head and eyed him for a moment before the door closed. "Where ya headed?" she asked casually, though she had a sneaking suspicion she knew the answer.
Anderson had not been to keen on her plan. He had all but ordered her to take at least one of the squad with her.
"Just following orders, Commander," he replied carefully.
Nyx breathed deeply for a moment with a minute shake of her head. "And what are those orders?"
"To accompany you."
"Of course, they are." Shepard's steps were quick and heavy as she strode up the gangway. And in that moment she didn't care if her stance gave away her irritation.
Shepard and Alenko had made their way across the wards. She had not planned on the escort, but Captain Anderson had ordered it. Her aggravation must have been clearer than she thought because as they neared the rendezvous point Alenko advised her that his orders were to escort her to Flux, and to be prepared to accompany farther, if his presence or assistance were requested. The commander had not expected that admission, and part of her had to wonder if Alenko was supposed to announce that caveat in his orders to her.
Understanding and appreciating her CO's concerns about the situation, she had not intended to fight him on his insistence that she take a crewman, at least, when she thought he had ordered it. With the revelation, Shepard knew that Anderson was trying to remind her of her training. She also suspected he was hoping that since the lieutenant was already there and prepared, that the commander would just take him along because it was convenient.
It all boiled down to faith. Shepard always seemed to have more of that in her people and in others than Anderson did. The captain trusted his people, once they earned it. The commander was a little different. She leant everyone a modicum of faith from the outset; to gain her full confidence a person had to earn it. But she gave people around her the benefit of the doubt at the outset. As her old chief put it to her old team, Commander Shepard gave everyone enough rope to hang themselves with-usually it didn't happen that way, but sometimes it did.
Anderson didn't place quite as much faith in people or their words in general as Shepard did, though there were exceptions to every rule. While the commander was willing to trust the word of the aliens she was meeting, in the CO's book neither a krogan mercenary nor a turian security officer garnered such consideration. He'd read files on both, and while Vakarian at least seemed on the up and up, Anderson had told her that you could never be too sure with C-Sec. But in the end it looked like her old friend was going to trust her and her judgment, if nothing else he was at least going to let her run the mission her way.
Standing in the doorway of Flux, a loud dance club near the markets, the commander noticed Alenko wince. Bright lights danced and flashed in the darkness and the music was enough to make her wish she'd brought her helmet so she could tune it out. Shepard liked all types of music but the playful techno circus music was not something she could abide, nor did she define it as actual music.
Hell, it reminds me of the Corona Club. The thought instantly made Shepard grimace, though she knew it was more due to her current mindset of trying to distance herself from the things that happened that night than the memory itself.
The crowd was made up of a surprising mix of aliens, there were even a few humans. But the two males she was looking for right then were nowhere to be found yet. Of course, she was a mite early.
"Come on, I'll buy you a drink," she offered, moving toward the bar.
Alenko followed her, stepping up to the bar beside her. "I don't like the idea of this, Shepard."
Nyx didn't know why Alenko and Anderson were up in arms about the aliens, though even Joker had mentioned she might want to take more back up than the knife on this one. "I'll be fine. One's a C-Sec officer-"
"And the other's a krogan mercenary," the lieutenant replied as he stared at her sharply.
She met his gaze, and there was a staggering amount of concern in his eyes, more than there should be, more than she wanted there to be. Shepard looked away quickly.
"The turian is a known quantity. And the krogan is not a threat," Shepard told the sliver of her reflection she caught in the decorative mirror behind the bar. She was trying to sound nonchalant. While she wasn't worried about going to see Fist with the aliens, she wasn't totally lacking in concerns. But hers seemed on a whole different scale than those of her commanding officer and her lieutenant.
"The krogan's not a threat?" he scoffed. "He's a krogan. And a mercenary. His file is … rather extensive. And I know I wasn't the only one that noticed the reception C-Sec laid out for him."
The commander leaned on the bar for a minute and tried to consider things from his side. This was not the first time she'd had a conversation like this with a subordinate, but when she and Chief Jensen argued over tactics and approaches, things seemed a little less weighted. Suddenly her mind was swimming in a pond she didn't want to be in. She shook her head clear and went another route-cold and detached. But that didn't seem right either. So she shifted again.
"Yes. I noticed the extra squad up the stairs. Yes, I read the listing of the work he is suspected of being part of. And I'm aware of the reputation that intelligence states Urdnot Wrex has, but I know what I'm doing. Trust me," she said, glancing up at him. With that she noticed a slight change in his demeanor.
He turned toward her and leaned his forearm on the bar, closing the distance between them slightly. His eyes bore into hers. "I do trust you, Shepard. I just-"
"Don't trust them?"
He nodded, his jaw tightening.
"Then trust my judgment. I've worked with people like Wrex before. And the read I get off him is not threatening, well, at least not toward me. Right now." She stopped adding, it didn't seem to be relieving the lieutenant's apprehension.
Kaidan just stared at her; she wasn't sure if he was reassured or not. But it didn't matter, she knew he'd follow her orders. He was too good a soldier to go against her direct order, unless it countermanded the order of a superior, which he had already told her he did not have. The bartender being otherwise occupied prompted her suggestion that she would have to owe him a drink once she noticed Garrus and Wrex arrive. Shepard wasn't surprised when she had to order Alenko to return to the Normandy; she had expected to. From everything she learned about him, she knew he would not just walk away and leave any member of his team in that situation.
ii.
Tali'Zorah nar Rayya had been on the Citadel too long, and as her time there looked like it was drawing to a close she was even more cautious about keeping to herself. She mainly stuck to the maintenance tunnels, only the oblivious insectoid Keepers and grubby children seemed to frequent those places. When she did brave the corridors most of the other beings strolling through the wards made a point to avoid her. Some would glare, and one male human had been so bold as to spit in her path as he passed her. She ignored them all. The last thing she wanted or needed was undue attention.
For the last several months, she had been itching to start her Pilgrimage. Her excitement and planning often made her father shake his head at her in exasperation, while her Auntie Raan would just giggle with her and encourage the newest idea Tali presented. At first she just wanted to see anything in the galaxy beyond the Flotilla. Then she drafted a plan that might put her in a place to bring back something of untold usefulness. But after only having been gone a little over a month, she just wanted to go back to that place, a place she knew, a place she belonged.
She hadn't been anywhere near the Citadel and just happened upon a patrol of geth on a deserted little moon. Separating one platform hadn't been too hard. There had been an overwhelming sense of pride when she managed to get any data off the memory core at all. Then it all went sideways and she wound up hiding in crawl spaces on the Citadel, surviving on turian rations she had gotten from a shelter early on. Then she wound in a human clinic after some turian security officer took a shot at her when she refused to relinquish her identification information.
Not being able to comprehend how her pilgrimage went so far off course, she ducked into another darkened corridor, with a resolved sigh. That's why you're doing this, she told herself again. The Shadow Broker can get you off the Citadel and with the credits Fist said he'd pay for the information you'll be able to return to home with your head held high. She'd already planned it out, in theory, dreamed about it a few times-returning to her people with a new ship to add to the roles. It would be a Pilgrimage gift worthy of the daughter of one of the Admiralty.
She just had to get off this station before Citadel Security or Saren Arterius' people found her. Tali had staked out the place she set for the meet; and when she arrived, the cameras she placed days earlier were still there and had not been tampered with. She tucked herself into a crawl space she had seen children using and waited.
Her fear would not overrule her. There was no other choice. This had to be done-for herself, for her people, and to get her off the Citadel in one piece. But she was scared out of her mind. Tali hadn't planned on spending her trek into adulthood in hiding. A soft chime rang in her ear announcing the meeting would happen soon; it was followed quickly but somewhat distant chatter.
Leaning her head forward she steeled her resolve and her nerves. No one could know her fear, her concern, her desire just to go back home. When she stepped out of the shadows, the turian spun and looked at her.
"Well, well, well. I'm glad you showed," he crooned, stalking toward her.
Tali glided down the steps gracefully, wordlessly. He probed her for the whereabouts of the data, eying her like he would see the answer written on her suit. When he set his hand on her, she slapped it away. "Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?"
"Calm down. They'll be here." He leaned toward her, his gaze clearly implying intent beyond anything she would consider consenting to.
"No way! Deal's off!"
When she turned, he grabbed her arm. She was prepared for the double cross, and her reaction caught the turian and his salarian friends by surprise. The electrical explosion stunned and blinded them long enough for the quarian to put some distance between her and them. She pulled up short when her escape was cut off by an approaching human flanked by a krogan and a turian.
Tali'Zorah was certain in that moment that Saren's men had found her. She backed herself against a crate and when the human drew her pistol, the quarian screwed her eyes closed. She heard the shots, but felt nothing. Opening her eyes she saw that the woman was firing on the turian she had come to meet, and his associates.
She wasn't sure what was happening, but not being the target of both groups gave her a little more confidence. And once Fist's men were handled, Tali'Zorah spun and took aim at the human. "I don't know who you are…"
"I'm Alliance. Lieutenant Commander Shepard."
Alliance. What do the humans have to do with this?
"What do you want?"
"Are you okay?" the woman asked taking a step toward her, hands raised in the air. The turian had put away his weapon as well, but the krogan still had a shotgun in hand.
Gesturing with her pistol, Tali stated, "I can take care of myself."
"I can see that." The smile was genuine and seemed to suggest she actually agreed. "I realize you don't know us. But I'd like to talk to you, and this isn't really the safest place for that."
"Why do you want to talk to me?"
"We're trying to find evidence against Saren," the turian announced. "And we were told you might be able to help with that."
Tali looked at them, then at the krogan. The human glanced over her shoulder and gestured at the large alien. Reluctantly he put his weapon away finally. "Some place public."
"Will the embassies work?"
Tali nodded.
"Let's get out of here, before anyone else shows up." Shepard let the turian lead, she figured it would be the least obvious, and the krogan walked a few steps behind the quarian. At first Tali kept glancing over her shoulder at him, he tried to smile at her once, presumably to calm any possible anxiety. It made her chuckle.
Tali'Zorah wasn't really sure what had happened in that maintenance area, but it certainly wasn't what she had expected. There were four more humans in the office when they arrived at the embassy. Three of them seemed to be waiting for them. The fourth seemed to be annoyed by their arrival.
The man she would learn was the ambassador was angry and didn't try to hide it. "You're not making my life easy Shepard. Fire fights in the Wards. An all-out assault on Chora's Den. Do you have any idea how many-"
He stopped momentarily when he turned and saw the marine flanked by a formidable pair of aliens and standing next to a petite demure quarian. "Who's this, Shepard?" Tali watched his eyes move from one alien to the next and stop on her and narrow. "What are you up to, Shepard?"
He looked suspicious. It was not something unfamiliar to Tali, at least not since coming to the Citadel. She clasped her hands in front of her, uncertain for the first time about having accompanied the human.
"Making your day, Ambassador. This is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, and she has offered to help us," Shepard said, taking a step toward the quarian.
Tali looked over at the woman in shock. Shepard had pronounced her name right. It surprised the quarian that such a little thing as that could make her more comfortable but it did. She straightened a little and keyed open her omnitool as she explained what Saren had been after and how she had managed to retrieve it.
iii.
"Eden Prime was a major victory. The beacon brings us one step closer to finding the Conduit."
"And one step closer to the return of the Reapers."
After hearing the recording, Donnel Udina was practically salivating. Shepard and Anderson were a little more concerned with the information in, than the implications of, the recording, but Udina was happy just to have the evidence he needed to prove Saren was behind the attack on Eden Prime. So much so he muscled in another meeting with the Council for the end of the day.
Williams eyed the aliens carefully as she approached the commander. "Nicely done, ma'am."
"All I did was escort her back here, really," Shepard replied, redirecting the praise from the chief as she had done with Williams after Eden Prime. "Turns out the Tali'Zorah, here, barely needed our help."
"Tali, please. And you are being modest, Commander," the quarian accused.
"She does that a lot," Williams noted.
"Guess Saren's outmatched across the board then," Anderson suggested as he slipped an arm over the commander's shoulder and led her away from the others. "Looks like you have made some interesting connections here, Shepard."
"Not the first time," she said with a telling smirk.
"So, are we going to need to put in a new requisition order?" Anderson asked.
"Not sure. Didn't really discuss the options past Fist and Tali, though, by the sound of it, Tali's up for anything that gets her off the Citadel. Not that I can blame her much. But we'll have to see what the Council does about Saren."
"What do you think they are going to do about you?" Anderson asked quietly.
"Nothing to do. The evaluator's dead. If this were ICT, I'd say they'd reassign me. But I'm not sure this kind of thing would work the same way. If the guy that spoke up for you bites it because you weren't there to back him up, that reads like an automatic fail to me," she opined, staring out at the large lake.
"I think you're selling yourself short."
"The turian councilor already made his opinion known. He blames me for the beacon. And there's cause. It did explode after I touched it, voluntary or not. And these sorts of things require unanimous votes I'm guessing, right?"
The captain shrugged, when she glanced over at him. "He won't come back when they rescind his status."
"No doubt. He's psychotic, not stupid."
"You've already proven-"
"That I can shoot up a strip club. Let a mercenary kill an unarmed prisoner. And escort a very capable quarian. I haven't proven anything."
David stood and looked down at her. "Do you want this?"
"You know, Captain. That's the thing. I don't know if I want it. I never thought about being a Spectre. All I ever wanted was SpecOps, and N7 was a pipe dream that came true. I got what I wanted," she replied, shaking her head uncertainly.
"I can see that. But will you do it, if they offer it to you?"
"I'm not sure." She turned and faced him. "I know this is what the brass wants. I know you said the Alliance needs this. Udina's all 'humanity needs a Spectre.' But why me? I'm just. … God, how did Admiral Lindholm from First put it…?" She thought about it a second tilting her head then looked up at him seriously. "A little bitch with a rifle and some comfortable boots."
"That's bullshit and you know it, Shepard," he growled, softly poking the air between them with his index finger."Why don't you see these things in any shade but your own? You protected a vital intelligence resource. Got a C-Sec officer and a krogan to work together to thwart a rogue Spectre's attempt to bury evidence against him and kill an innocent just trying to go home." He looked at her sharply. "For Christ's sake, girl. Modesty is one thing, reality is another."
"Is it? This is what I'm good at. Being on the ground. Running and gunning with a face full of mud. I don't do politics. I don't play these backdoor games."
"You. What you've always done. That is what a Spectre is." He leaned toward her in a way that suggested he was about to cross a line. "There was a committee," he whispered.
Her eyes widened and searched his.
With a nod toward the ambassador, he explained, "Udina, Vice President Walsh, Secretary of Defense Rossellini, head of the Parliamentary Defense Committee, General Zhong the Alliance Chairman, and Hackett. They only let me in the room because I was working for the admiral. They picked you. Yours was the only name they could all agree on. You are the only soldier with the reputation and the skill to pull this off. That's why they picked you."
"So, you're telling me I'll sink my career if I turn this down?"
"The Alliance won't turn its back on you. Zhong, Rossellini, Hackett, me, we all know you're a solder first. But it's like we all know, sometimes sacrifices have to be made." The look in his dark eyes told her more than she wanted to know. "This might be yours."
"You damn well know I've made more than my fair share already." Her glare was sharp at the implication.
"I know." He looked at her softly. Shepard in some ways had become like a daughter to him, and he knew they were asking a lot. Hell, probably too much.
Shepard looked out at the lakes again, watched the humans and aliens milling about the sidewalks leisurely, wholly unaware of her or Saren or his geth. "Fuck," she finally said a little too loudly. She glanced over her shoulder and realized everyone was now looking at her. Her eyes moved over their faces-humans, krogan, turian, quarian. She smiled widely. It was the oddest group she'd ever seen gathered in one place. Shepard looked back up at Anderson and nodded determinedly at him then punched him in the shoulder as she walked back toward the marines in the group.
"What was that all about?" Alenko asked.
"Nothing," she replied with a glance at her boots. "Why don't we all go grab a bite? Politicians are easier to take when you're not starving."
"I could eat," Williams and Wrex said in unison.
"I'm buying," she called with a smile and a deep laugh. The four marines and three aliens slipped out the door, heading for the embassy bistro since they only had a few hours.
iv.
For Shepard it almost felt like the punch line of a joke four humans, a turian, a quarian, and a krogan walk into a bar-and there seemed to be a few patrons that wondered the same thing until they saw how well-armed six out of the seven were. Wrex was the only one that ordered alcohol, the rest were a little more conscious of protocol and appearances.
"Like I'd go near that chamber, even if they'd let me in the door," Wrex announced when a large flagon was set on the table in front of him.
Shepard and the others were conservative in their ordering, opting for coffee, tea, water, and Garrus ordered some turian concoction the commander couldn't pronounce. When the waitress set the tall thin glass filled to the brim with a thick red liquid in front of Garrus, Nyx couldn't help but make the comparison to blood, but what really threw it off was the bright yellow garnish that looked like a hibiscus flower floating on top of it, though she knew it likely wasn't. When he lifted it to his mouth, the syrupy drink stuck to the upper part of his mouth and Shepard tried not to laugh, but it was no use.
"What?" he asked.
"Seriously, Vakarian," Williams replied. When he lifted his napkin to his face, Shepard grabbed his arm. "No, you have to see this."
The chief snapped the image and rounded the table to show it to him. His mandibles fluttered slightly, then he wiped at his mouth calmly. And the whole table erupted in laughter when Garrus did.
"But, my, you did look pretty, Officer," Shepard said playfully between giggles.
Garrus shrugged. "If I find the right gown, I could probably net me a senator back on Palavan."
"Maybe one of the colonies," Wrex joked.
"Are you implying I lack appeal?"
"You don't think the fringe would be a dead giveaway," the commander replied, and the turian looked at her curiously. "Yes, I've seen a female turian. Spent some time outside Vallum on Taetrus."
"What were you doing out there?" Garrus asked.
She tilted her head slightly and looked up at him. "Getting my ass kicked."
"I don't buy that for a minute, Shepard," Anderson countered, knowing the truth of it.
"You of all people?" the commander looked at him and shook her head. "You did a cross training with the turians. It is nothing the sneeze at."
"Yeah, but you were what twenty at the time? You were in your prime."
"Were?"
Anderson laughed loudly. "You are getting up there, now, Commander."
Williams' jaw dropped, but Shepard just bowed her head and laughed. "You put an operator on the line and you just catch hell all day long."
"What were you doing with the turians?" Wrex asked rather seriously.
"Making friends. Pissing people off. You know, the usual," Shepard declared, sipping her coffee.
"Yeah, right. Shepard, you don't strike me as someone who could piss someone off. Too damn by the book." Wrex lifted his flagon to his lips and took a healthy and audible gulp
"Trust me," Garrus added, "by the book can piss people off."
"Very true," Alenko said, looking up from Tali's omnitool.
Shepard knew it was true, but it wasn't the only way she could push someone over the edge. Anderson knew it. Kaidan knew it.
"What do you think the Council will do, Shepard?" Tali asked, very keen on the answer.
Nyx shrugged. "Not even a shade of an idea. I don't know how politicians think."
"They don't," Wrex grumbled.
"On that, I have to agree with the krogan," Garrus nodded, raising his glass to the larger alien.
"They'll rescind his status," Anderson declared. "If we're lucky, they'll do something else intelligent." He lifted his mug to his lips and took a long drink while everyone stared at him.
"Like?" Williams asked with a look that said she knew there was something behind the statement.
The captain got a reprieve, because the waitress returned, this time with food. And once again Wrex's order was the center of attention. The slab of barely seared meat was about size of a small dog, and when he cut into it is quivered gelatinously. Shepard was as much a carnivore as the next soldier, but watching that meat jiggle like it could feel every slice curbed her appetite completely. Chief Williams, however, was wholly unaffected.
The group chatted about nothing of importance as they ate. Wrex talked about his joyous reunions with C-Sec every time he visited the Citadel. Tali and Alenko continued to talk tech and omnitool upgrades. Ashley talked to Garrus about sniper rifles, while Shepard listened in and offered her own careful opinions. Wrex wanted to know about the captain's combat experience, which drew everyone's attention. Then, when Anderson's omnitool chimed they all straightened, knowing this little diversion was coming to an end. As everyone headed for the door, Shepard sought out the waitress to settle up the check and was informed the captain had made a liar out of her.
He winked at her when she exited the lounge and caught up with them. "C-O's privilege," he mentioned before she said anything. She had pulled that little move on her own team before and knew better than to argue, though she narrowed her eyes at him with mock irritation. He clapped her on the soldier and pulled her close for a moment before letting her go. Shepard smiled up at him. One thing in her career had always been certain, Anderson had her back no matter what.
v.
Captain David Anderson led the pack of seven toward the Council Chambers. Shepard had managed to essentially dare the Urdnot Wrex into joining the rest of them, and he tromped along heavily, drawing numerous gazes not only because he was a krogan, but because of the company he kept. Anderson was glad he was there; he thought it might help cast a positive vote for the outcome he wanted from this meeting.
He understood Shepard's hesitance. He'd been there. They were similar soldiers. Joined to serve the Alliance with grandiose dreams of protecting people and keeping Earth and humanity safe from all that lay beyond home in the black sea of space. She trained with her people, fought beside them, protected them, and dragged them back home safe, if she could. She was a marine. That was how she defined herself-it was clear in her manner, her life, even her introduction: rank, name, service. She was Alliance; hell, he of all people knew just how thick it ran in her blood.
He, of all people, knew just what he was asking when he brought this opportunity to her. And with everything else it could be labeled as, the Spectre candidacy was an opportunity. It was a chance for humanity to take a larger role in the galaxy, to prove themselves. Anderson didn't have any children, he had a nephew and he had Shepard. In more ways than he would ever admit to, she was his legacy. She had the chance to correct the mistakes he had made, repair the failures. She had already done it more times than she knew. But this was the biggest-he had been the first human candidate for Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. Saren, his evaluator, sank Anderson's chance, and even irrevocably damaged his reputation in certain circles after all was said and done.
Part of him felt like he was over stepping his bounds, as her commanding officer and as her friend, by pushing for this. But he knew Shepard-her strengths, her weaknesses-he even knew the things she hated for people to know, some she had told him, some he discovered on his own.
He waved Shepard forward as they mounted the last staircase leading to the chamber. "Keep moving people. The Council won't wait all day," Anderson ordered with a glance over his shoulder at the people who had been part of all the insanity leading up to that point.
vi.
Darkness. She liked the darkness, it made it easier to think. Nyx's head was still spinning. First, Saren being stripped of his Spectre status, which everyone had expected given the strength of the quarian's evidence, then suddenly she was granted the same rights and responsibilities that the turian had just lost. Things started to spin out of control when Udina basically handed her the pink slip to the Normandy and told her not to hit the trash cans when she backed it out of the drive. All of this with Anderson standing next to him, telling her to treat the Normandy well.
Yes, she knew the crew and it really was the perfect ship for a Spectre, but it was his ship. That one hung her up. She nicked his ship right out from under him. Anderson had always had her back. He had pulled her out of some places she was sure she would not make it out, and he had put her in a few places like that, but too many time he had been in the thick of it with her; and here she was snatching the best ship in the Alliance Fleet out of his hands.
She felt like she was betraying someone who had always been there for her. She stood up, stretching as she crossed to the window and leaned against the window. Looking out at the Citadel, she couldn't help but imagine what it might be like down there-not knowing. The bliss of ignorance.
The rest of it loomed in her mind. Bring Saren to justice at all costs. Then there was some mysterious Conduit to find, which no one knew anything about. And stopping the Reapers, which, best she could tell, were some sort of mythical machine race the geth worshipped. It got unwieldy fast. The idea of just putting together a plan to nab Saren was relatively far beyond the boundary of her comfort zone. But the rest of it Nyx felt qualified under Ashley's term: some next level shit. It was difficult to try to work through, but she was trying.
Shepard's head spun so hard and fast, she felt a little dizzy again and laid her forehead against the glass. Down there were millions of people who had no idea what was happening around them, what was out there, what she was being asked to try and accomplish. Down there were millions of people that needed her to be the tip of the spear. Suddenly her considerations went beyond the Alliance, her men, and her people; she was a Spectre now, for all that meant, part of her still wasn't precisely sure, but one thing she did know was that she was no longer merely beholden to the powers that previously yanked her chain, there were a whole new set of hoops to jump through.
"Well I have to agree with one thing, Alenko was right this is a big place." Shepard quickly realized that was probably the worst thought to add to her current mix of insanity. And again she heard his voice clearly: no reason they wouldn't love you. And she clearly recalled the nervous look he cast at her when the chief made the smart comment about leave and walking drag. Then there was the response to the gunmen outside of Chora's Den and his chivalrous streak rearing its head in response to Harkin, and the way he trembled slightly when she touched his arm.
"Goddamnit, Shepard. Get a grip," she ordered quickly as she peeled herself off the glass and marched to the door.
Her movement was swift and she was highly distracted, which intensified when she ran head long into the lieutenant as the door opened. Her hands stopped on his chest for a second and she felt Alenko tense beneath her touch before she pulled away quickly as if she had pressed up against an open flame.
"Sorry," she said slipping past him. She heard him say her name but it did not register before Nyx was up the stairs and walking purposefully through the CIC.
The airlock closed behind her as she took a long slow breath. The sound made her chuckle-the soft crinkle of the wrapper in her pocket reacting to the motion of her fingers drumming against her thigh. The sky opened above her as she stepped out onto the dock. And she took a deep breath, there was so much more room out on the gangway. For the first time in the last several hours she felt like she could breathe again. Her eyes moved from the elevator then back to the ship suddenly under her command. The green bug guy was still there and he ignored her completely as she walked down the gangway. Fully expecting it to turn around and reprimand her, she hopped the first hip-high bar and waited for a response. When none came she continued the rest of the way down the deck.
Taking a seat on the end of the gangway she pulled the item out of her pocket and stared at the all-too-familiar electric blue logo on the thin silvery wrapper. Looking at it she could not help but think of her mother, who had started buying them for her a few years before her biotic potential was officially recognized. It had been one of the few times her mother was on leave when her father shipped out, and Nyx along with him.
As a girl, Shepard had not realized what precisely was happening at the time, but she still remembered it and looking back it was one of the first times her parents seemed to recognize that there was something off about their daughter-well, more off. She was never what anyone would call normal: she begged for shooting lessons before she was ten, her grandfather passed down the family K-Bar to her before she was a teenager, and her bedtime stories consisted of soldiers, space, and aliens more often than they did of princesses needing rescuing.
Before they had put out on that trip, Hannah Shepard had pulled Nyx aside and tucked the silvery box in the bottom of Nyx's footlocker. Then she and Nyx sat cross-legged on the floor across from one another. Hannah Shepard had held the bar between them, staring at it with a trace of anxiety that Nyx had not read correctly at the time.
"Now these are only for you. You keep one in your pocket and if you feel dizzy or hungry, you eat it." She had nearly placed it in Nyx's hand but pulled it back. "And I know that Lin and Caz are your best friends and you'll want to share. But you really shouldn't."
"Why, Mom?"
Hannah had smiled. "You're different, Sweetie. And they aren't made for everyone to eat. They could make them sick. Okay?" It had been an over exaggeration, but if someone would have recognized the snack Shepard would have likely been declared and amped much earlier than she was.
Her parents had harbored suspicions about Nyx's biotic tendencies, but she had not been detected then, though she must have manifested some sign for her parents to lay out such strict precautions. A few years after that incident it had been her father who finally brought it up to his daughter.
Back on the gangway, Nyx stared down at the wrapper for a moment, then ripped open the seam and took a bite. She let her legs dangle loosely over the edge and leaned back on one hand and admired the massive scale of the city-station around her. It dwarfed Arcturus Station. For the first time in weeks, she did not think about anything really, except how weightless her feet felt as she loosely kicked them while she looked around and chewed silently. The first thought came to her about three bites into the bar.
"God, these things are still disgusting," she told the item as she pulled the wrapper back over it. She stuffed the partially-eaten bar back into her left pocket then dug out the thin volume she currently carried in the right-it was a small anthology of galactic poetry, featuring some of the most well-loved poems from a myriad of cultures. Shepard had purchased it on a whim, and some of the pieces were striking, others, like the Vorcha quatrains, were a little more of a struggle.
She leaned back against the crate to steal a few minutes to herself in the silent brightness of the Citadel, the words of a Hanar bucolic drawing strange images in her brain. The scenes typical to a human pastoral poem took on a new strangeness when that pasture was beneath the deep oceans of the Hanar homeworld Kahje. Despite her unfamiliarity with the species, the planet, or life beneath the water's surface, the poet described shades of a striking and beautiful life.
In that brief moment nothing existed but the imagery of a simple life, and Shepard realized when it all came down to it that was what she had always been fighting for in a lot of ways. For people to have that even if it was not the path her own life took. She reread the poem, replacing the little slip of raw linen between the pages when she was done.
With her promotion things were inordinately more complicated all the way around, and even in the limbic space between the Alliance and the Council that she now inhabited things were even more unclear. But she was certain of one thing. The mission, the goal-Saren had to be brought forth to answer. That she could accomplish.
vii.
According to Fleet Command the transfer of Normandy to her command and the resupply would take a handful of days. Rather than mill around the ship and think too much about it all, Shepard opted to try and distract herself from everything pressing down on her with some of the whispers she had heard while she was searching for information.
Garrus helped her with a situation involving the sister of a waitress from Flux, finding out which officer was heading up the investigation and getting her a meeting with him. Shepard and Officer Chellick butted heads over his chosen investigative methods, though she understood the impetus for it. Feeling it could possibly be a project that was funding Saren, the commander offered a different type of assistance with his investigation. The turian jumped at the chance. Shepard went along with it, because any thorn she could stick in Saren's side and twist, she was going to make use of, even if she just thought it might be a thorn that was in his neighborhood, she was going to twist it.
Her visit to the Citadel was taking a strange turn. But these were the types of things she had always done. She would over hear something or be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and get herself involved in things she might not have planned. Just like pulling those kids out of the basement on Elysium or interrupting a scheduled rape and pillage visit by the Na'hesit at an Anhur village. Shepard knew she would place herself in this type of position whenever it came up, to keep a civilian from putting themselves and their life at risk. It was just who she was-the way she chose to be.
Alenko and the quarian had accompanied her on the buy. She played it straight and brought Chellick his evidence and proximity recording. The officer had secured the video of the exchange and swore that Jenna had already been pulled out of the club. Now he just has to hope that no one realizes what she was doing there, Shepard thought as they left the Citadel Security suites and entered the building's atrium.
Running around with Alenko and Tali was like getting a crash course in combat engineering, software design, and hacking, though too often Shepard found herself drowning in the tech. She tried to listen and keep up with all of it, but no matter the topic, the two of them always reached a point that made the commander feel like a confused child trying to read ancient Greek. It had been the same when they were discussing, signal boosting omnitool ranges as they strolled toward the elevator in Citadel Security.
It was fairly clear she would need a different approach to deal with General Septimus Oraka. Despite Williams' correct assessment that Shepard wasn't one for rescuing whores. The commander was more concerned about other things, namely the consort's information trade.
Given Septimus' position Nyx asked Tali if she would not mind too much if Garrus tagged along. The quarian had waved the commander's concern off and said she had a few things she needed to take care of on the Citadel before they put out. This trip through the wards was much quieter, Garrus was still getting a feel for the humans and how to approach them. It reminded her of the first few days she knew Marric Toran, her liaison from her turian training exchange.
When she, Vakarian, and the lieutenant arrived at the strip club, she started by trying to talk General Septimus Oraka down. She should have realized that would not work. Her experience with turians was vast compared to some of her species, but she knew that it was still highly limited, and her experience with lovesick turians, even more so. After the initial hitch, she and Garrus opted for appealing to his since of honor.
There we go, she could not help but think, when he came around.
Oraka's shoulders squared back up and he seemed more like a stereotypical turian when he handed her a datapad and all but demanded a favor. Shepard chuckled when he detailed out the information. With a quick glance to her right she noticed the slight smile of recognition on Alenko's face. Septimus' favor brought her full circle. The Elcor diplomat was ecstatic, or so he said, when the human delivered the information he was accusing the asari consort of leaking. When they walked out of the embassy, Kaidan was watching her, and she noticed it.
"What?" she asked.
He shrugged. "I've never seen anyone take that kind of interest."
"I overheard something about an intel leak that could affect the stability of multiple colonies, possibly put colonists at risk. So, I thought I'd look into it." She made it sound completely innocent and exactly what anyone else would have done, because that was how she saw it.
"Precisely," he said with a trace of surprise in his voice
She smiled and agreed. "Precisely."
The lieutenant was obviously taken aback by her willingness to get involved. She guessed that even as a Spectre it might seem beyond the scope of what was required of her. But that was not the reason she why she did it. She felt her answer to Kaidan captured her motivations, her concern for the colonies and the citizens there that could have been affected by whatever Septimus had gotten a hold of. Her concern was for those who could not fight what could be coming.
With that thought it struck her. That was what Nihlus had been doing on Eden Prime. That was what she was being tasked with as a Spectre: chasing down Saren, bring him in, trying to reign in his geth, and stopping whatever this Reaper threat might be. It was the same on Elysium, on Anhur: she had helped people-kids, civilians, soldiers alike-protected them all from a force they could not deal with on their own. This was the same work she had always done, just on a whole new scale.
As she strolled across the Presidium there was a new lightness to her step, the weight was still pressing down on her, but she had found herself a foundation. A place she could move from and come back to when it all seemed too much. The two men with her balked for a moment when she slipped through the entrance to the Consort's establishment and Nelyna directed them to Sha'ira's suite for a second time.
viii.
From the moment they entered the building things seemed surreal. The overwhelming scent of incense, the temperature that was about five degrees too high, but that might be to compensate for the… Alenko stopped the thought before it finished. They all knew what this place was, when you got to the bare bones of it; what the consort and her apprentices were. Ashley was right. Many things to many people, it was a poetic way of not calling herself what she was. Even Fredericks had not been able to explain it all away. She might be many things to many people, but for a lot of those people she was a really expensive sure thing.
Kaidan and Garrus exchanged a look, as they followed Shepard up the stairs, and again when the asari liquidly moved toward the commander. As Shepard visibly tensed at the contact initiated by the alien, neither male was particularly certain what was happening, and became even less so when she bestowed the gift of words.
What does that even mean, Kaidan thought as he watched with rapt interest.
Sha'ira touched Shepard's face softly, gazing into the human's eyes with great admiration as she spoke. Kaidan felt his jaw tighten, as the reaction of the commander seemed to align with his. Shepard seemed uncomfortable with a veritable stranger writhing against her and touching her so intimately. The lieutenant could not help the acidic nature of his thoughts in that moment, nor the little twinge of jealousy he had no right to claim. Shepard was his commanding officer, nothing more. Control yourself, Alenko. His flexed and released his fists at his side a few times and tried to relax.
"I see your skin, tough as the scales of any turian. Unyielding. A wall between you and everyone else. But it protects you. I see the sadness behind your eyes. It tells a story that makes me want to weep. Pain and loss. But it drives you. I see you."
The asari held Shepard's face in both her hands, closing the little remaining distance between them, and gazing intently into the marine's darker blue eyes, and continued, "Your uniform fits you as though you were born wearing it. You are a soldier through and through. Proud, solitary... alone."
The movement was sharp and short. Sha'ira looked at Kaidan for a moment before returning her gaze to the commander. With a quick glance to his left Alenko was aware that he was not the only one to notice. Garrus looked at him for a moment, then both men turned their attention back to the highly intimate display being played out in front of them.
"But all this gives you strength. Your strength is what has kept you alive, what made you survive. You will continue to survive. You do not hide your strength and it serves you well. Terrifies your foes. Few will dare stand against you. It is that same strength people are drawn to. It is why you lead and others follow without question. You'll need that leadership in the battle to come." Sha'ira stroked Shepard's cheeks with her thumbs then kissed her lightly on the lips, lingering for a moment. With that she loosed the officer's face and took a step back as she took Shepard's hand in both of hers. "A small token, and my sincerest gratitude for your assistance."
"You're very welcome. And thank you," the commander replied, with a shocking amount of politeness.
Shepard turned and walked past her two associates who were freely staring at her until she passed them, then their gaze moved to the asari. "Good day, gentlemen," Sha'ira stated with finality. The two men's heads cleared and they hurried down the stairs to catch the commander.
The officer was standing near the glass fence at the edge of the water looking at the token. She slipped it into her pocket as her team caught up with her. When she looked up at them, a crooked smile painted her lips and was accompanied by a playful look in her eyes.
"Well, I'll be damned, Shepard," Vakarian began. "That was… something else."
"Yeah, well. That's one way to describe it," the commander agreed.
Garrus shifted his weight in a way that revealed he had something on his mind. Shepard looked at him until he finally said it. "Look, I know this is strange. But I've been investigating Saren for a long time and I'd really like to help take him down. I thought with you being a Spectre and all, you could use a little sniper fire power. My scores are off the chart."
The smile widened as she held up her hand to halt the litany they all figured he had prepared. She had seen what she needed to see. And part of her was glad she did not have to ask him to sign on.
"Same rules apply. You follow my lead. No pulling a Wrex and shooting prisoners in the face."
Garrus gave one sharp nod as he chuckled and shook her hand.
"Welcome aboard," Alenko said, shaking the turian's hand.
"Guess that makes three. Meet Wrex, Tali, and I at the dock in three hours with whatever gear you have and we'll get you settled in," Shepard ordered.
Out of the corner of his eye Alenko noticed the twitch of the turian's mandibles.
"Will do, Commander."
The two Alliance officers watched the turian trot off at a pace just shy of a run. "Where's this leave our marine detail?" the Lieutenant asked, still looking at the turian.
Shepard folded her arms over her chest as she leaned against the balustrade and crossed her ankles. The deep labored breath told him all he needed to know. "Did you have a chance to read the dossiers intel sent over on Wrex and Garrus?"
The Lieutenant nodded.
"We don't have anyone that can touch that on the detail. And our mission just changed starkly. We've already lost one to Saren and his geth. And in total honesty, that team is too green to go up against what we're facing now."
He could see it in her eyes, she did not want things to be this way. But she also did not want to lose anyone else to this thing. And neither did he.
"I agree, but what are we going to do?"
"Give them the choice?" she shrugged.
He did not give her an answer, did not really have one to give. For him it was a no-brainer. He would not walk, and from what he knew of the remaining members of the detail they would not give up the chance to serve with Shepard, and that was before she became the first human Spectre.
"This isn't a cut and dried situation. There's not an answer for this sort of thing in the regs. If they want to transfer out, I'll sign off and leave them here. Or they can take modified duty for the tour. If need be I'll call in some favors and get them a nice posting with lots of weapons fire and explosive potential," she added.
Kaidan smiled and looked at her incredulously for a moment. "Do you really think anyone would transfer off the vessel of the first human Spectre?"
Shepard just laughed and shook her head. "Offer it anyway. Let them know I'll take care of them if they want it."
"You want me to offer it?"
A quick nod. "That way they won't feel like they are offending me if they choose to walk. It'll be easier for them to make the choice that's right for them that way."
"Aye, aye, ma'am."
Shepard looked down at her boots for a moment. There was a barely visible scuff on the toe that seemed to be the focus of her attention in that instance.
"The same applies to you, Lieutenant. If you'd like to walk-" She looked back up at him and, for one of the first times he could recall since he met her, her eyes were suddenly unreadable, almost devoid.
He knew it had to be intentional, she did not want to influence his choice, did not want him to know her opinion before he made his choice. He shifted slightly, uncrossing his arms and setting them on his hips as he took a moment to contemplate the scuff mark on the toe of her boot. When he looked back up at her, he watched her carefully for a minute before he spoke.
"Well, it's like I said. I'd be crazy or stupid to walk away from the first cruise of any Spectre." When he said it, he saw a flash of something in her eyes and the wall that the consort mentioned seemed to go back down. It's almost like watching a biotic barrier fade. "And besides that it's been a long time since I've had a C-O who wasn't scared to death of me. It's kind of nice to just be the staff lieutenant instead of that biotic."
"Been there a time or two myself," she divulged quickly with a relaxed smile.
She held her hand out to him and when he reached for it she grabbed his forearm tightly. The commander smacked him on the shoulder and added, "Good to know you're still on board despite all the mythology it looks like we'll be chasing."
"I'm in it for the long haul," Kaidan replied, still studying her responses to what he said.
There seemed to be relief in the look she gave him. And there was relief for him there too, relief that she was pleased that he intended to remain on the Normandy. Or maybe that's just what you want to believe, he corrected himself as she loosed his arm.