"Is this your story again?" Nekros asked, drinking another shot of Turian brandy. Having completed today's work early, he had decided to meet his friend, who had been working on Omega. He admired his friend very much – charismatic, royal and driven, he was a leader that Nekros will never be. Most importantly though, his friend had ditched C-Sec to follow Commander Shepard, fulfilling a purpose that he made for himself. Now, with the Commander dead, he continued to live a life that he believed was right – and Nekros was jealous.

"Well, you can't possibly think I'll lie, will you?" His friend replied. He still wore that visor of his, though Nekros had noticed that it had been upgraded. It was no longer a large rectangle, but now closely covered his left eye. Nekros had always wondered why he had his visor all the time – and why only on the left eye – but he never bothered to ask.

"No, but I trust the Council, too. They said-"

"The Council are just a bunch of idiots who only care about how they look!" Garrus replied.

"I know, I know. But what can I do? Even if you are right, I can't help, and as much as I hate it, I have a duty, too." Nekros said. They had this conversation before – something about the Sovereign not being Geth. That was the only fault that his friend had – being scared of these things called Reapers.

Garrus seemed to think deeply about his reply. His eyes darted to and fro, searching for answers; a way to convince others of the existence of the Reapers. Eventually, like hundreds times before, he found nothing.

"I used to think that duty was with the hierarchy as well. But even the leaders make mistakes. That when soldiers like us take things into our own hands and kill whatever crazy thing is out there… I think this is one of those cases." Garrus finally spoke. Although he tried to hide it, it was clear to Nekros that he was almost begging for him to believe his words. An awkward silence hung about for a couple of seconds.

"I trust you Garrus. I really do. But I don't know what to do..." Nekros said, finishing his brandy. "But I'll fight. That's the only thing I can do – fighting. If you are right, and the Reapers do come, I will be ready. And I'll kick some alien ass with you when the time comes." Nekros knew that at least that part was true – if such thing as Reapers existed, then he would be ready.

…

Kisa leaned forward on her seat to check the control panel:

DEST: CITADEL

ETA: 89 MINUTES

SHIP STAT: OPTIMAL, SPEED

TRAVEL STAT: IN-TRANSIT, RELAY JUMP

Satisfied that everything was going well, she sat back, rotating her seat towards Jackson. Gentle music played from the speakers, enough to cancel the dry hum of their borrowed ship. It was a small shuttle, designed for intergalactic postal service. It had enough room for only two people (in the cockpit), but its cargo hold was large enough to house a skycar. Right now though, it housed a small prison where the Blue Suns Batarian was probably nursing his wound. Jackson's shot didn't break the bone, but came very close to it.

Jackson was in the pilot's seat, though he wasn't doing much. Their course was pre-plotted thousands of times before, so the computer could handle most of the flying. Jackson simply sat back and read his datapad (while also forming a blue ball with his right hand). Being a slow reader, he was still reading through the various documents about possible candidates.

"So, found anyone yet?" Kisa asked. She had many other questions to ask, but she decided to play safe for now.

"No." Jackson said. He turned off the datapad and placed it back into his bag. He still kept his ball though, making it hover above his head. "I should probably get some rest from reading."

He snatched the ball from its location, which never quite touched his hands. He started to play around with it, splitting it into four, spinning them around the cockpit and eventually joining them back together. Kisa could see that he was focusing very hard trying to move the shapes in the way he wanted them to move. It was an impressive skill. After that, he changed the colour of the ball from blue to green to yellow to red to…

"So… Why are you doing this?" Kisa finally asked a question she's been wanting to ask for some time.

"Well, it's fun, pretty and it helps me to control my biotics." Jackson replied. He then bit his lips in concentration. After turning the ball back to blue, he created a small network of light within the ball. The web didn't last long though – it immediately fell apart. "Damn, I can never get that to work."

"No, no, not why you're doing this. Why are we recruiting a member from different species?" Kisa asked again. The blue ball vanished.

"Well…" He hesitated, scratching his left palm. Jackson had avoided explaining things beyond Beta-Two, simply because it was a painful memory. But he decided that at least Kisa deserved an explanation. A brief, cut explanation.

"There's… a Prothean structure beyond Beta-Two. I don't know exactly what it is or what it does, but it seems like some sort of a fort. My science team…" Jackson paused for a moment, his throat tightening. "Reported that there was an AI called the Observer inside the structure. They managed to talk to it, which revealed that it, and the structure it resided in, was some sort of a command centre in the past cycle. From there, a Prothean could activate all remaining war assets that was scattered throughout the galaxy."

Kisa had expected some sort of ideological explanation, perhaps something about "species bonding together to fight the Reapers", like what Commander Shepard said before the Spectre died. So she was surprised when Jackson started to speak about Operation Unveiling.

"But the Observer didn't grant access to the science team, claiming that humans didn't represent a significant portion of the current galactic intelligence. So that's why I'm bringing a member from every species onto this mission, to get that stupid AI to activate the assets." He summed up briefly.

"Oh… That makes sense." Kisa said, although there were many things that didn't make sense at all. For example, why was a Prothean command centre so far away from the Citadel? Why didn't the AI activate the assets before the Protheans were killed? How could that stop the Reapers?

Patience. I'm sure Jackson is waiting for an opportunity to explain everything.

…

Rallel ran out of patience. From what she could see, so had Thea. Ironically though, they were asking for patience.

"Please! Listen to me! We have the true culprit coming to the Citadel this very moment! If you could just delay your verdict for another thirty minutes, then we can provide new evidence to the case!" Thea pleaded. It wasn't in her nature to ask – she just did what she wanted. For now though, she had to bow down low.

"And who will confirm that statement?" The jury asked. They were more or less scared of both Thea and Rallel and wanted to imprison them. However, since Thea was currently a lawyer, and her crimes were committed outside the council space, she could easily elude the law. So they had to at least lock down Rallel.

"I will."

Everyone in the courtroom (which weren't many – a couple of small-time politicians, two camera crew, five judges, Rallel and Thea) turned around to see the newcomer. He was a tall, red haired human with a piercing blue eyes. He wore the humans' formal black business suit with the Alliance logo stamped neatly on his left shoulder. His voice was crisp and polished, and so was his gait. Surprisingly though, he made barely any sound as he walked. He stood up on the podium next to Thea and gave her a wink. Thea repressed the urge to punch him.

"May I ask, who are you? How did you enter this room?" One of the judge asked, clearly confused at this man's proud arrival. A trial for a possible terrorist, regardless of the size, was held in a high-security room. No civilians could get in without permission.

"My name is Finley Adams. I am… an Alliance officer. I currently hold the access status A under the directives 45 Spec-Ops and 9824 HIGHCOM." The human explained. "The two being next to me, Rallel Ghanovan and Thea Sorac is currently under HIGHCOM watchlist, and I reserve the right to detain them. With it, I would like to grant the Asari her wish to delay this current trial by one hour."

The juries (and Thea) were shocked – directive 45 Spec-Ops meant that this human had almost Spectre level clearance, and HIGHCOM was the mysterious human organization which had gained significant lawful privileges throughout the galaxy. Their presence was just as revered as the Spectre's, though only few lawyers who specialised in high security knew about them.

Four out of the five judged knew about the directive 9824 HIGHCOM, and also knew that HIGHCOM members usually ended an argument with a firefight. Clearly not liking the concept of dying that day, the judges quickly voted to delay the trial. The fifth judge, who didn't know about HIGHCOM, complained, though he was silenced by the other four very quickly.

The three defendants left the trial room, heading towards Rallel's detaining cell. The Human was grinning, the Batarian was confused and the Asari was contemplating on whether to commit her first impulsive murder.