A/N: Thank you for your patience. Chapters like this are hard to write, probably because they aren't very action-packed. However, this will set the stage for the next few chapters, which will be a bit more exciting.
I basically have every chapter outlined, up until about the events of the end of Mass Effect 2's equivalent in this story. So far, it totals about 44 chapters, with at least twenty more expected for the events of Mass Effect 3. So, yeah, it's a lot, but I will continue writing as much as I can, no matter who is reading.
Once again, thank you for your patience, thank you for everyone who has reviewed and Favorited/followed.
Patient131071 Thanks. Saren is a biotic in the games, but I like to think that this is due to Reaper modification, not in-utero element zero exposure. It never says that Saren served in the Cabals in his history, so that much is fact. That, and I like the idea that he is not inherently powerful, but skilled enough to overcome his opponents advantages.
The pain was the first thing he really noticed. So much pain. His very nerves were set onto the thinnest of edges. Electricity never seemed to stop coursing through sparked a thousand times, but each wave came harder than the last. Every time, it was new pain, such that he had never felt before in the hours he spent in agony. It didn't make sense, and the fact that it was so animalistic and illogical kept hurting and hurting. He could never get used to it, never numb himself to the overwhelming desire to die quickly instead of this hell. It was excruciating. It was worse than torture, because torture, at least, had an end.
But he kept falling, falling, deeper and deeper. Saren heard screams and echoes of screams coming from inside his head and bursting out his own ears. The sound was high pitched and wailing, like metal on metal. It went beyond the frequency he could hear, then tore him apart and put him back together so he could hear more. The screams contrasted against the deep, bass rumble. It was behind him, always behind him. No matter where he looked, it was nowhere and everywhere. He couldn't see it, but it resonated against him, pushing him back against the fire and the screaming pitches. He was caught in the crossfire, smashed and torn and burnt and aware that every second was one he couldn't escape.
Then he could feel through the pain and screams. Every time he was shocked, every wave carried with it a scream, and a roar of the machine. Then fear. All-knowing, obliterating fear. The surge of adrenaline pushed him beyond limits. Blood was everywhere. He knew every time that he would not escape, but him body would not obey the order to just give up. Instinct overwhelmed him. The desire to run, his one chance to escape with his life for a few more precious minutes.
But he could never move. Always paralyzed with fear or screams or pain. Saren could feel it. The roar, the vibrato of the hum whispering, then growing into a crescendo of fire. He felt the heat on his back, and he tried to turn to face it with his own two eyes before succumbing to a red haze that ripped him apart thousands of times before and a thousand times to come.
Voices began to come, every time he died inside. They started quiet so he strained to hear even the shallowest of breaths before growing to add to the chorus of screams and metal. It drowned out everything and amplified it all, bringing it to heights that broke his resolve every time to stand. His conscious shattered into fragments of madness, just curling up away from everything and experiencing it all a thousand times at once and a million more times over. All he wanted was to stop wishing for the voices to stop saying it, over and over and over and over and run away and scream with the rest and die alone forever.
Warning. They are coming. Stop them. The galaxy will die. Warning. Stop them. They are coming. The galaxy will die. Warning. They are coming. Stop them. The galaxy will die. Warning. Stop them. They are coming. Stop them. They are coming. The galaxy will die. They are coming. Stop them. They are coming. Warning. They are coming. They are coming. They are coming.
The Reapers are coming. The galaxy will die.
You must stop them.
The machine to his left beeped. It was dark, and the machine beeped again. Feeling slowly returned to his muscles, and with it, intense fatigue. Another beep, and he realized his eyes were closed. It beeped again, and they shot open as he jerked up with a sharp intake of air.
Light struck at his eyes, blinding him. Saren groaned as they adjusted, and a pang of irony hit him as he realized the room he was in was quite dimly lit.
He was lying on a stark white medical bed, his lower body covered with a white blanket. The machine beside him beeped again, signaling his pulse from a wire connected to his temple. Across the room, a human woman sat at a computer, studying him. She was older by human standards, with thick gray hair and wrinkles around her cheeks. She was dressed in a medical uniform, and she stood as Saren attempted to tear off the wire.
"I would advise against that if I were you," she said sternly. Her voice was different from the others, and her words seemed slanted. Most likely a sub-cultural accent, derived from her home on Earth.
Saren paused, talon hovering over the needle. "And why is that?" he said slowly, putting as much venom into his tone as he could.
The human female wasn't impressed. "That needle's the only thing that kept your vitals steady for the last twenty-nine hours," she said matter-of-factly. "Unless you wean the drug out of your system, you'll most likely go into regressively violent cardiac arrest."
Saren blinked. He hand twitched, and slowly resumed its original position by his side. He scowled, and folded his arms as he lay back on his bed.
The doctor held back a smirk as she walked over to the machine and checked the stats on the holo-screen. She made a few notes, before running some diagnostic tests on her turian paitient.
Bored, Saren looked around the room. He was obviously in a med bay, and it didn't take a salarian to figure out he was on an Alliance vessel. The other marines from Eden Prime were nowhere to be seen. And that woman, the one who led the geth, who killed Nihlus...
The memories of the encounter flashed through his brain. The geth, the Reaper, Nihlus, the human Kaidan, the woman, Nihlus, the beacon…
The machine beeped again, louder and more frequently. The doctor looked up, startled, and Saren realized her was gripping his sheet in an iron fist. The woman gave him a look, and Saren ignored her.
"Where am I?"
"A medical bay," the doctor replied instantly, trying her utmost to focus on her medical data.
Saren didn't miss a beat. "On what ship?"
"The Alliance SSV Normandy SR-1," the doctor looked him in the eye. "Now if, you're quite finished-"
"And who are you?"
The doctor gave a huff. "Dr. Karen Chakwas, SSV Normandy."
"Saren Arterius, Spectre."
"I know."
Then it was Saren's turn to huff. Dr. Karen Chakwas smiled, and the turian stared her down. The woman didn't budge, and returned to her diagnostics. After several moments, she glanced back at the Spectre. Saren had his head back, and his face contorted into a scowl. He tried to meditate, to control his anger. His breathing slowed to a deep, menacing pace. His nostrils flared, and mandibles twitched, betraying his emotions. Damn humans just had to be so infuriating, he wanted to scream.
No, not scream. Not like them. He pushed that away. It hurt too much.
Sensing his discomfort, the doctor spoke again.
"You've suffered severe head trauma. The beacon down there did a number on your nervous system," she said. Saren ignored her, the doctor persisted.
"Based on my scans, whatever happened was meant to be a data transfer, like a machine imputing numbers for calculation," she explained. "Instead, I believe the obelisk attempted to imput sensory details into your memory, and imprint on your psyche. However, the technology wasn't adapted quite right to your physiology, inhibiting the process. Electrical activity in your amygdala increased dramatically, but the incident sent you into a coma-like state while your body tried to process the information, most likely due to the increased amount of adrenaline flowing through your blood."
Saren cocked his head to the side, his curiosity piqued. Chakwas continued.
"Add that the fact that this data transfer was the biological equivalent of six petabytes of information, and I'm quite surprised you haven't died several times over." Chakwas sniffed, and resumed her work at the medical station. Saren blinked again. What the bloody spirits happened? His dreams, whatever it was…
No. Not now.
The door to the med bay slid open with a quiet swish. Saren turned his head, still trying to sort things out in his own brain. He almost did a double take when he recognized the figure striding through the doorway.
The human was tall, and held himself as such. He dressed in clean-cut Alliance dress blues, down to the last button on his collar which marked him as a Captain. The usually warm eyes betrayed nothing but fire as his gaze flickered from Chakwas, who was busy trying hard to study new diagnostics, to the turian patient in the bed. Decades old scars had healed, and although the lines on his face were ever more prominent now, the echo of the once proud Alliance marine still came to the forefront of his memory.
He carried himself with a new air of command, one Saren was sure was meant to be intimidatingly angry, but the slight, almost unnoticeable limp in his leg gave Saren the briefest moment of confidence. The human stopped by his bedside, nodding to Chakwas. Saren returned his stare, until the captain spoke in gruff acknowledgement.
"Saren."
"Anderson."
Silence, then-
"What the hell happened down there?" Anderson's voice was heavy.
Saren grit his teeth, and started. "One of your people went AWOL. She attacked your team, and activated the beacon with the help of the geth-"
"I know, Saren. Kaidan…Lt. Alenko told me that much," he hesitated, looking down. Then he held his head high, jaw set. "I can thank you for your…assistance, but I'd rather like to know why the hell you were on Eden Prime in the first place."
Saren responded immediately. "Council's orders. Nihlus was the official envoy, but Special Tasks and Recon had reason to believe that increased geth activity was tied to the discovery of Prothean technology."
Anderson gave him a look. "Then why didn't Nihlus tell us that before we entered the system? We went in blind into one of our own colonies, failed to extract our objective, and lost three of the four people I sent down there to begin with!" By the end, he was almost shouting. "It would have been damn helpful if you had been there to stop it before…it happened."
Saren averted his gaze. Anderson's eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling me, Arterius?" The edge in his tone was not friendly. "Why were you on Eden Prime?"
Saren glared back. "That, Captain, is none of your concern," he responded icily.
"Like hell it isn't," Anderson retorted. "My ship lost three men down there, Spectre. One has apparently betrayed everything she stood for her entire life, attempted to murder her companions, kidnapped a man twice her size, and succeeded in killing one of the Council's best operatives."
Anderson turned his back to the turian. Saren allowed his gaze to drop momentarily, before-
"You can talk to the council if you won't talk to me," Anderson said, walking toward the door. Saren Froze. "I have geth, a rogue N7, and a dead Spectre to deal with. I don't need another problem right now."
The heart rate monitor sped up, and Chakwas looked over, concerned. Anderson, too, turned his head, before retreating from Saren's menacing look. The machine resumed its normal pace.
Ignorant fool, the turian thought. You're going to undo years of work. He gazed out the window of the med bay and watched Anderson walk, shoulders sagged, toward the CIC.
He kept staring, until a memory came back to him.
"The female," He said quietly, making Chakwas jump. Saren turned, and made eye contact with the doctor. The woman tensed. "The traitor. Who was she?"
Chakwas paused. "Shepard," she said at last. "Olivia Shepard."
"Shepard," he whispered to himself. He would not forget that name.
He exhaled deeply. He needed to find a way to stop her, especially if she had allied itself with the geth, and them with a Reaper.
As much as he hated to admit it, he needed the Council.
Usually, flying a ship through space at near faster than light speeds excited Joker. One of the reasons he loved flying is that is almost never got boring. Even just sitting back and enjoying the view had endless appeal. It helped that it was one hell of a view, too. Refraction of light through the Normandy's mass effect field turned everything out there into spectacular displays of cosmic awesomeness, in his opinion. Stars turned into pulsars, quasars, and even gamma ray bursts.
Right now, all he could do was nervously shift in his seat, and try to keep his eyes on the screen in front of him. He had to stop himself from freaking out when they dragged Kaidan, two other humans and a turian back onto the ship. Kaidan hadn't told him what happened-he'd been too unconscious to speak, at the time- but Jenkins found him in hushed tones and said that the Commander had gone AWOL down there, killed Nihlus, and kidnapped Vega. The marine quickly scuttled away when Jokers jaw almost fell off. He almost didn't hear the Captain over the speaker when he called for the fastest route to the Citadel.
In any event, the Normandy's pilot was shocked. Shepard always seemed, well, Shepard. Nice, loyal, strong, flirty. Crazy? No. Homicidal? Definitely not. The woman cried after she had to kill those two pirates on Benning. Hell, she even apologized her ass off after accidentally throwing Jenkins across the room with biotics, despite the fact the kid said that he had the time of his life. He almost punched the Jenkins himself when he brought the news. But, well, glass knuckles weren't as close to brass knuckles as he'd like. Or the rest of his arm, for that matter.
The space around the cockpit bent and retracted, signaling their deceleration into the system. The bursts of gamma radiation retreated back into the distant glimmer of lazy stars. Bright lights curled up shyly, backing away now that their fun times of dancing along the far reaches of space were over. Joker knew how they felt. Looking forward, the Normandy's helmsman tried to avoid looking to the conspicuously absent co-pilot's chair, and focused on the sight in front of him.
Arcturus, as a child, was always the biggest thing he'd ever seen. Compared to the capital of the Systems Alliance, he always felt smaller than he really was. The sight always took his breath away.
Now that he was older, he felt a little nostalgic for his old home station. The first time he had seen the Citadel, he felt foolish and a little excited when he realized that Arcturus couldn't hold a candle to the sheer massive scope of the Prothean construct. Now, five gigantic arms stretched out of the shimmery abyss of the Serpent Nebula, opening themselves up to Joker and his girl. When they passed through the security Fleet, Joker did a double take after they passed one of the newer asari dreadnoughts, the famed Destiny Ascension. For a species that really hated being called 'promiscuous', they sure didn't mind making every damn ship look totally jaw-dropping. He was sure if ships could cat-call, asari ships would get harassed constantly. Even if every ship was technically a 'she'. Even the Normandy. He coughed, and tried to push that image out of his head.
Joker veered the Normandy away as the Ascension rumbled past. Or, at least, a rumble seemed like the kind of noise it would make. If, you know, there was actually sound in space. Ah, well…
He pushed the reverse thrusters, signaling the slight tug as he tapped the brakes for landing. They swooped down past the magnetic lock and settled into the docking port with a resonant click. He tipped his hat to himself. Another smooth landing.
Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Joker's spirits dropped, reminded of the crew's current situation. Right. Shepard. The Spectre.
There's always something.
He tried his best not to spin his chair around, but instead peeked over the edge of his headrest.
Anderson came first, dressed in his blues. For a man who didn't normally look happy, he seemed downright pissed at the moment. He was flanked by the turian Spectre- Saren?- and Alenko, as well as the two marines from Eden Prime. The captain had extended a post aboard the Normandy to both of the survivors, but only the woman, Williams, took it. The other one, Jacob, was nice enough, but he had politely refused. Nevertheless, both had been called to the hearing with the council.
Joker kept his head down as the group exited through the airlock. He caught Alenko's eye and shot him a sheepish grin. The lieutenant smiled soberly, returning a small wave. The turian spotted this, and stared the pilot down, inquisitively. Joker's grin vanished and he jerked back around, pretending not to notice.
What an ass.
The Council, as always, stared their party down. Saren was grimly reminded of the last time he had been in this position, with Anderson at his side. The Alliance captain gave his report, but none of the councilors-save Valern, spirits bless his hyperactivity- showed much concern. The two Alliance marines, Ashley and Jacob, added their part, for what it was worth. They all seemed mildly concerned about the geth threat, but the reports of a rogue N7 hardly seemed worthy of their attention. None seemed to think the flagship was worth much consideration. The human ambassador, Udina, seemed to grow angrier every minute.
Then it was Saren's turn to speak. He had relinquished his time to let the humans speak first. Let them build a basis for his story. He scanned the councilors, now. Tevos seemed distracted-no doubt, she felt this small hearing a waste of her millennia-long life. Sparatus seemed more concerned about the geth. The old turian was probably writing an order in his head to increase turian defenses toward this minor threat.
And Valern was deep in thought. The old man was stroking his chin with his fingers, his eyes staring off into the distance. No doubt the wily old man was calculating something in that massive head of his.
For a group of galactic leaders, they sure had a hard time seeing the big picture.
Saren stepped up. It was time to play the game.
"Councilors," he said, "These humans have given you their side of the story. A geth force, with a mysterious new warship at its head, has attacked a human colony in search of a Prothean artifact. One of these humans, Commander Olivia Shepard, has turned rogue, and sided with these machines for unknown reasons.
"However, this is not the greatest threat that has been revealed to us in light of recent events." He paused, searching for the right words.
"The human commander, Shepard, came into contact with this prothean device. She alone has access to the data from that beacon, and she will use that information against us.
"She killed Nihlus Kryik, a Spectre…and a friend." He bowed his head. "I was unable to save him.
Sparatus made as if to speak, but a glare from Tevos hushed him.
Saren continued. "She is not the only one with the data from the prothean beacon." He looked up. "I, too, hold that information in my head."
Valern remained silent as Sparatus began to protest, but Tevos quieted him again. the asari councilor spoke.
"We have heard this before, Saren. The human captain was kind enough to relay this to us," she said firmly. "What this council wants to know is why you were on Eden Prime in the first place. Were you not assigned to deep cover in the Terminus Systems?"
Saren tensed. He could feel eyes on him from every angle. He cleared his throat, and answered.
"Councilors," he began. "I'm…afraid that I have not been entirely honest with you."
Behind him, he heard the human ambassador snort.
"For several years, I have been running a covert operation in Citadel space. I have amassed a network of spies, mercenaries, and contacts. I have established several safe houses and weapons depots across dozens of systems. In preparation."
"In preparation for what, Saren?" Tevos pushed.
Saren looked up, and met the eyes of the councilors.
"Eden Prime is not an isolated event. I have reason to believe that the geth have allied themselves with an ancient race of intelligent machines known as the Reapers. The warship that the Alliance marines speak of, according to my information, is most likely a Reaper itself.
"When I say that this event is not unique, I mean it. I have evidence that the Reapers are much older than contemporary galactic civilization. I believe that these machines were responsible for the disappearance of the Protheans, fifty thousand years ago, and the death of every civilization fifty thousand years before them. When I say that I have been stocking up for a galactic war on my own, I am completely serious. I believe that Eden Prime is the first of many incidents that will culminate in our combined galactic extinction, if we do not act to prevent it.
"It is my duty as a Spectre to protect the galaxy from unseen threats. This council has given me the power to do this within any means that I see necessary. Believe me when I say that the threat of a Reaper invasion is real. It is your duty to act upon my initiative. I will not allow Nihlus to die in vain."
Silence. Then a small chuckle. Saren's eyes narrowed as Sparatus burst out laughing. The sound echoed eerily around the council chambers, cutting through the stillness like butter. Behind him, the humans whispered amongst themselves.
Tevos waited until Sparatus was done, then spoke up. "I…find this very hard to believe, Saren. How did you come across this information?"
"Camala."
Saren jumped, and Tevos looked surprised. Neither of them had thought that Valern would answer the question.
When Saren was too stunned to speak, Valern said it again. "Camala, Agent Saren. Eighteen years ago, you led an operation with then Lieutenant Anderson-" Anderson stiffened, clearly remembering the incident with old fury-"in which you claimed to have lost the human Dr. Shu Qian's data on artificial intelligence and reports of an artifact that pre-dated the Protheans." Valern paused, for what Saren assumed was dramatic effect. "We both know that you did not. I can only assume that this data gave you the basis of your theory about the Reapers. Now, the full picture is evident. You did not trust us to act on this information. You may have been right. Why come out now?"
The councilors question hung in the dead air.
"You used me as a scapegoat."
Saren turned around, to see Anderson standing with clenched fists. The turian felt trapped. The Captain grit his teeth, and didn't speak again. The other humans backed away, well aware of their commander's anger. Saren looked away, shamefully. He didn't want to face Anderson now.
The council spoke quietly amongst themselves. Sparatus seemed dubious, but Valern, at least, seemed to be on his side. Saren kept his head down, aware that he was in a difficult position.
After several minutes of terse discussion, Tevos spoke up.
"Agent Saren, we have come to a decision. One that we hope will prove beneficial to all parties."
Saren looked up, attentively. His eyes flashed.
"The council does not fully accept your story about these 'Reapers', but we do acknowledge the evident threat in the Attican Traverse," Sparatus said. "You understand that we must be pragmatic in our decisions, not speculative."
Kaidan and Anderson shared dubious glances, but Saren gave a curt nod. "Of course, Councilor."
Tevos continued. "We acknowledge the threat of the geth, and of their leader, Systems Alliance Commander Olivia Shepard. However, because of the nature of this attack seemingly isolating the Alliance, and due to the Commanders origin as an Alliance Soldier, we feel that this is a uniquely human affair, and that it should be handled, as such, by the Aliance."
"What? This is an outrage!" Udina shouted.
"Be quiet, ambassador," Sparatus said. "We aren't finished."
Valern spoke, this time. "We feel that the threat of a geth war is too important to ignore, despite its origin as a human matter. As such, we have only one available Council liason to extend our authority and goodwill to the Alliance as they move to counter this threat." He nodded at Saren, who bowed his head in acceptance.
"No," Anderson said, angrily. "No, I won't allow him on my ship. Councilors, please. Send someone else. This turian-Saren, he-"
"Captain, this is the last time we are going to say it." Tevos demanded. "Please, ambassador, contain your captain."
Anderson stopped, scowling. Kaidan met Saren's eye, but the turian couldn't pick up what the human was trying to convey. Anger? Curiosity? Distrust?
"This is all we can do, at the moment, Captain," Saparatus said reassuringly. "Agent Saren is a capable asset, and one who seems to be more than prepared to assist you in this endeavor." He added the last part with a smug grin. He seemed to like those.
"This meeting is adjourned," Tevos commanded, and the councilors turned away.
Saren bowed, and spun on his heels. As he approached the human group, the marines tensed up. The human woman gave him yet another once-over with suspicious eyes. Kaidan kept an eye on his captain as Anderson regarded the turain with barely concealed resentment. The captain and the Spectre stared each other down for several seconds, before the captain finally spoke.
"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Agent Saren."
Saren's mandibles twitched. "So do I."
Valern watched them from afar. Saren and Anderson would reconcile-of that, he was certain. The threat of an interstellar invasion tended to heal old wounds. He knew about that from his time with the STG. As the group exited the Council chambers, they left the salarian councilor deep in thought.
Saren's argument was valid, even if Tevos and Sparatus didn't want to see the truth in it. Sparatus was far too pragmatic to think the threat of these 'Reapers' was real. And Tevos was too convinced that she had all the time in the galaxy to deal with everything. Her lack of initiative had always been an issue for her race. They were always too willing to wait and see, instead of act.
It was in that part of his biology that Valern felt extremely lucky. His species' relatively short lifespan gave their actions the sense of urgency that never accompanied the decisions of other races. Valern, even for a salarian, was never one to just 'wait and see'. Saren was right. The data matched up. Record from Eden Prime supported the turians theory, and the councilors assessment of the situation almost two decades ago proved correct. Saren was right not to trust the Council then- Sparatus would have laughed harder than he did today. If anything, the Spectre knew how to strategize. He needed a catalyst to give the council the sense of urgency, and a looming war with the geth provided the perfect push for such an action.
The man would have made a good salarian, if he weren't so convinced he needed to do everything himself. The council's decision today had benefitted Saren- he now had moral support and a green light to act on his information. The wily Spectre got as good of a deal as he could've gotten, and he knew it. Though the threat of a Reaper invasion hadn't been officially accepted by the Council, Saren had planted the thought in their heads, and it would not vanish easily.
Valern paused. He was alone in the central corridor, with only the artificial breeze rolling though the trees in the Council Chambers.
He tapped his omni-tool, and directed the hologram to his hotline to STG command. At once, the face of the new Director popped up.
"Councilor! To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You may skip the formalities, Director. Get me Kirrahe."
A/N: If you haven't guessed already, I like Valern. His position was extremely underplayed in the canon-he's one of the most powerful politicians in the galaxy, and he's a salarian, which basically makes him a genius. Remember, it was Valern who discovered the Udina was behind the Cerberus coup on the Citadel. His contribution to Saren's Effect will be big, much bigger than in the games.
Saren is difficult to write, mainly because the source material I have to work with is VERY limited. He has almost no lines in the original Mass effect, and in every other comic or novel he's depicted as a very one-dimensional villain. So, I make him an anti-hero who has his own problems-he bears a huge responsibility on his shoulders, but refuses to share it. He has a bit of a messiah complex which is touched upon in the themes of the first games. If you pay attention, he honestly believes he's doing the right thing, and that he is the only one who can.
So I extrapolate.