CHAPTER TWO
Rogues

Kara awoke with a painful headache. She couldn't seem to remember where she was, or how she'd gotten there. She didn't recall getting drunk. She'd done that before, the night they pinned a medal on her for her conduct during the Skyllian Blitz. It was an experience she swore she'd never repeat.

She tried opening her eyes. An Alliance sickbay? The Normandy. Alcohol was forbidden of frigates, and there was no room for a still, so it wasn't that. Had she been on a mission. Or… what? She had memories, but they were an incoherent jumble of colors and smells, mixed together as if her brain could not tell one from the other. "Karin?"

"Kara, good. How are you feeling?"

Kara liked Doctor Karin Chakwas. She seemed like a decent person, and an excellent doctor, quiet, but firm when it came to fulfilling her duties. Her lined face bore an expression of concern.

"I'm—" Fine? She was not so far gone that she needed to hide any weakness, but the headache was endurable. "Confused, mostly. I was… on a mission?"

"Yes. You were deployed to recover a prothean artifact, remember. You've been out for nearly a day."

Yes. Jenkins had been killed by… by geth. How could she have forgotten that? Then they had rescued a soldier. Ashley Williams. She had a feeling that things had ended badly, but no details. "Did I succeed?"

"Kaidan reported that you came into contact with the beacon. Commander, it induced some strange neural readings in your memory centers… can you recall any dreams you might have had?"

Did that explain the jumbled images in her head? A prothean message? "Yes, but nothing that makes any sense. What happened to the colony?"

"The immediate threat is over, but I'm afraid that's all I know. That's what I get for being outside the flow of information."

Even if she didn't remember the details, Kara knew herself; she would have done what she could for the colony. It was a relief to know that she had done enough.

"I treated you for minor burns to your face and neck, Commander, but nothing serious. You're free to go, but I want you to come back if you start to feel any worse. You should also get some rest."

Kara smiled and nodded. "Of course." She was feeling hungry, and in need of a shower. The captain would want to speak with her, as well, but that could wait. "Thank you, Karin."

"There's no need for that, Kara," the doctor said, smiling gratefully. "I'm just doing my job."

Sliding off the medical bed, Kara took the uniform that someone—probably Karin—had laid out for her, and retreated to the showers, at the rear of the crew deck. They were empty, but it was mid shift. She jammed the door behind her anyways. She stripped out of her cloth armor undersuit, and activated the nearest shower.

Washing quickly, she still found herself lingering longer under the soothing stream of water than was necessary, before toweling dry and pulling on her trousers. The woman in the mirror looked older than she recalled, her deep green eyes exhausted. What had they seen on Eden Prime, that she didn't yet remember? Her short, red-auburn hair, was still damp, and nearly black, stuck up in nearly every direction. Running her fingers through it helped a little, but she did not care overmuch, and left it, pulling the plain white uniform shirt over her shoulders. She buttoned it all the way up to its collar, and tucked the ends under the hem of her pants.

Leaving the washroom with her uniform tunic in hand, she walked out into the mess. The long table was empty, save for a lonely-looking Ashley Williams, pocking forlornly at a mostly-full try. Kara recognized the pain in the marine's face, and a sighed as she claim a tray of her own. She sat across from the younger woman, offering a kind smile.

"I'm afraid you never get used to it," Kara said softly.

Ashley started, looking up at her in surprise. "Sir?"

"The food, I mean."

The marine almost smiled, but not quite. "It's fine, really. It reminds me of my father's cooking."

Kara could only guess at Ashley's age, but she put it at twenty-three or so; long enough for her to have served the one-year term of mandatory garrison duty on one of the colonies. While not all marines were offered a shipboard posting when their term ended, the more promising ones were. As she was clearly a skilled marine, she had most likely requested a colonial posting. It wasn't unheard of; starside postings were more glamorous, but planetary duty had enough advantages to keep the officer positions filled. Decent food, for example, and bigger quarters.

"I was raised on Arcturus Station," Kara said, "but I've always loved being outdoors. I'm sorry we took you away from that."

"You didn't… no. I've dreamed of this all my life, sir," Ashley replied. Then what had held her back? Her service record would likely answer that, if only to satisfy her curiosity.

Kara reached across the table, and laid her hand on the marine's. Ashley's brown eyes actually lifted, and met hers. "I've been where you are, Ash, and I know a little of what you're going through. At first, I hated myself for surviving Elysium. It meant I hadn't done enough to save my squad, that I was weak. Then the Alliance comes along, and gives me a medal for my failure?"

She gave a half-smile, and removed her hand. "Being human isn't a weakness. You did everything you could."

Ashley nodded, not smiling, though her eyes looked a touch less morose. Grieving took time, as Kara well knew, but it didn't have to be endured alone. "Thank you, sir."

Kara let her attention turn to her tray. The Normandy was a recon and infiltration frigate, its internal compartments organized around that mission. That meant a smaller than average crew, and a month's supply of essentials—hence the rehydrated, inedible mush they passed off as food. Even hunger did not make it appealing, but there was nothing else, and she forced herself to eat it.

She had finished about half her meal when Anderson came on deck. Ashley leapt to her feet. "Captain, sir."

"As you were, chief," he said, returning her salute. "Commander, Doctor Chakwas told me you were awake. How are you feeling?"

"Better, sir. In need of sleep."

"Good. I need to speak with you," Anderson said, gesturing that she follow him to his cabin, on the port side of the deck, opposite sickbay. The room was tiny, with a narrow against the forward wall, a small desk, and a spare chair. The inward curve of the exterior wall only made it seem more cramped. The captain gestured that she should sit. "I've gone over the reports from Lieutenant Alenko and Chief Williams. Things went to hell down there, but you held on, retrieved the artifact, and you saved the colony. Good work."

"Yes, sir."

"What you don't know is that Kaidan found a fusion bomb inside the warehouse, armed and set to go off. It would have taken out most of the colony, if he hadn't disarmed it. You should have secured the area yourself, before checking out the beacon."

Clearly, and she should have guessed at its presence. She recalled the burned farmland, and the obvious implications. If the geth wanted to place blame on the batarians, though, they would have to leave no contrary evidence.

"The alloys and circuit configuration were batarian, but from the his report, I'm not certain they were involved. This Saren, the turian that dockworker saw kill Nihlus, he's a Spectre, one of the best. He hates humans. He wants to see us all dead, and now he thinks he's found a way to do it. I've set course for the Citadel. Ambassador Udina will get us an audience with the Council. We'll see that he's brought to justice."

Nihlus was dead? Kara didn't—no. She did remember. He had been shot through the back of the head. Executed, at close range. Yes, and the name Saren, uttered by a tense dockworker. They didn't have evidence, just suspicions. Why was Anderson so convinced that the turian was guilty? "You're personal biases aren't proof, Captain. They'll only hurt our case against him."

"That's not your business, Commander," the aging marine said, frowning at her.

"It is if it affects the mission," she told him softly. "All you've got on him is an old grudge."

"Then you'll have to find some real evidence, Shepard," Anderson snapped.

Kara sighed. That would be nearly impossible, so long as the Council extended its protection over the turian Spectre, but the first thing she wanted to know was how he and Anderson were connected. "Yes, sir."

Leaning on the railing in Ambassador Udina's office, Kara stared out over the Presidium, the government and diplomatic sector of the Citadel. Almost a hundred meters below, exotic plants from across Council space bordered long pools of clear water. A small scattering of people, mostly human, walked along the wide paths, or stood in small groups, enjoying the picturesque setting, and the scented artificial breeze. She had been on the station before, and had even signed up with the Alliance at the recruiting office in the wards.

At forty-five kilometers long, the Citadel was the largest known manufactured object in existence, and believed to be another relic of the protheans. For two thousand, five hundred years, it had served as the seat of the Citadel Council, a coalition government, made up of the turian, asari and salarian races, which dealt mainly with interspecies relations. Another five species, humanity included, accepted the Council's diplomatic and trade authority, but had no representation. More than thirteen million beings, with individuals from every known race, lived on the station's five sprawling arms, known as the wards, making it the single most diverse location in the galaxy. It had been an excellent place for a young woman to learn about other peoples.

"I managed to arrange a meeting with the Council," Ambassador Donnel Udina declared. As the Alliance's representative before the Council, he was widely known, a righteously arrogant man, belligerent in his defense of 'humanity', which he all to often equated with corporate interests. Kara considered that reason enough to dislike him, and didn't expect meeting him in person to change his mind. "A Geth attack on a human colony, led by a rogue spectre. They'll have to send in the fleet."

"They won't," Kara sighed. Anyone with sense could see it. When Alliance had begun establishing colonies on the edge of batarian space, it had been made plain that they did so at their own risk. Since all the signs pointed to the attack on Eden Prime being an isolated incident, rather than a prelude to invasion, what Udina really wanted was for the Council to intimidate the batarians.

With a brief announcement chime, the holoprojectors on the left wall flared to life, a brief column of light resolving into the shape of the three Councillors. Kara turned to face them.

"Councillors," Udina said, nodding his head in their in their direction. "This is Captain Anderson, Commander Shepard."

The middle figure, a tall, dignified asari, her face barely showing a hint of alienness beyond the deep blue of her skin, nodded in return. Her name was Adar Tevos, and eight hundred year old matriarch, and a well-respected diplomat. "Ambassador. Captain. Commander." Her calm gaze settled for a long moment on Kara.

"The situation on the frontier is getting out of control. We have reports that the Batarian Hegemony is building up for a major attack on Alliance holdings. You must deploy your fleets to protect our colonies."

"We've received no such reports," said the salarian, Tellin Valern, his large, intense eyes focused on the ambassador. Their intelligence service, the Special Tasks Group, had a reputation for being the best in the galaxy. "Deploying Council fleets on the border would be an act of aggression against the Hegemony, and could lead to war. We will pursue that path only as a last resort. You will have to use diplomacy to solve this crisis."

Kara wasn't certain if a diplomatic solution could be found, and not just because of the Hegemony's extreme isolationism. The Alliance had deliberately increased tensions on more than one occasion.

Udina scowled, and folded his arms across his chest. "What about Saren. I demand that he be stripped of authority, and turned over to the Alliance for trial."

"We've reviewed your evidence, Ambassador," stated Varrus Sparatus, the turian councillor, "and it is our opinion that you've failed to make a case against Spectre Arterius."

"Councillor, I know our evidence is weak," Kara ventured, before Udina could make another extravagant demand, "but isn't the threat of a rogue Spectre grave enough to warrant an investigation—"

"An investigation has already been conducted," the holographic turian stated dismissively. "Saren has been cleared of all charges."

"You're protecting him," Udina almost shouted. "If a turian colony had been attacked, you would have acted by now. I demand-"

"Ambassador!" Kara snapped, "shut up." She wondered at herself; she normally kept better control of her tongue, if only to preserve her career, but it was a career that she didn't even want anymore.

Udina glared at her, preparing a sharp response, but she ignored him, turning her attention to the holographic councillors. "If not Saren, then someone else was responsible for the attack. That person was known to Nihlus, and had knowledge of the beacon. Surely you agree that the person responsible must be caught, and their plans uncovered?"

"It would make an interesting test of her abilities," the salarian councillor said, studying her intently with his large, dark eyes. If he was talking to his fellow councillors, they made no reply. "Commander Shepard, you will be in charge of the investigation. Find out who was responsible, and action will be taken."

"What about our colonies?" Udina demanded; she wondered if he could do anything else. "You must send in your fleet to protect them."

"Enough, Ambassador," the turian said, his mandibles flaring in irritation, or anger. "You do not give us orders."

The asari glanced at the other councillors, the salarian on one side and turian on the other. "This meeting is adjourned," she said. A moment later, the projector shut off. Inside it, cooling fans continued to hum quietly.

Udina was the first to break the new silence. "Commander, what the hell did you think you were doing?"

Kara shook her head, giving him a look of silent contempt before walking out into the hall. She knew he was a dangerous man, but for the present, at least, there was little he could do.

Kara had only just finished fastening the clasps of her asian-style civilian tunic, when the door to her quarters chimed. The small suite had been assigned to her by the embassy, for the duration of her stay. It could only be Anderson, come to berate her for talking back to the ambassador, and she sighed in irritation. "Come."

"What the hell were you thinking, Shepard?"

Kara walked out the bedroom to confront the captain, who was standing next to the couch, with a dark scowl on his warn features. It was a foolish question, considering that she had been the one to get the Council's cooperation. "You're the one that walked into that meeting with an old score to settle, Captain. Did you think they'd forgotten about it?"

The older man clasped his hands behind his back, his scowl fading into a more introspective look. "So you know about that."

Not precisely. Even the most classified of operations had a way of making it onto extranet conspiracy sites, though often in a garbled state. She knew he had been a spectre candidate, with Saren observing, and that a great many innocent people had died during their only joint mission. What they meant to do was a subject of debate, as was what went wrong. Anderson obviously blamed the turian, but the Council had seemingly found his case less than compelling. "Yes."

"It isn't an easy thing to talk about, Shepard, but you're right. I should have told you." He sighed, seating himself on the small couch. "You were still out of line."

Kara shrugged. According to protocol, she knew he was right. She also didn't care. Udina's methods were those of a spoiled child, long assured of its special place in the universe. Of course he couldn't understand how anyone might disagree. She had expected better of Anderson, though.

"Look, I don't like Udina either, but he's got a lot of pull back on Arcturus Station. Right now, I'd say you're half-way to a court martial, and you won't get out of this one just because you're right."

"That's what I was told last time," Kara said. She had even believed it, at the time, and it had not concerned her. There would be no hearing against her now, not with the Council watching. Not without better cause than one offended politician. "If there's nothing else, I've got an investigation to begin."

"I wanted to talk with you about that, too. The ambassador and I discussed it, and we have some suggestions. He thinks you should start with an ex-CSec officer named Ben Harkin. The man's scum, a disgrace to the species, into just about everything, as long as he could make a few quick credits out of it. Since he was one of the first humans to join, almost twenty years ago, the embassy used to intervene, and kept him from being dismissed. They were afraid it would hurt our reputation."

As usual, the Alliance tried to hide corruption, rather than actively fighting it, probably doing more damage to humanity's reputation than admitting the truth would have.

"With his connections, he might be able to turn something up," Anderson said, leaning back in a posture designed to take up space. "Or he might lead you into an ambush."

"That's not much of an option."

"No," the man agreed, scratching his chin briefly. "If you were less confrontational, Commander, Ambassador Udina might have agreed to point you towards a more reliable source. I don't think Harkin will help you, but unless you want to try CSec, it's all you've got."

"I'll manage," Kara stated softly. CSec seemed the better place to start, as even a failed investigations might offer some trail to follow. Anything was better than simply wandering about, hoping to stumble across a clue.

Anderson shook his head. "I'm glad that one of us is confident. Look, I have some sources of my own. I'll do some poking about, and I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Very well," Kara nodded.

The door slid open soundlessly, revealing a plainly decorated space, generous in proportions. Like Udina's office, the far side of the room ended in a balcony, overlooking the grounds of the Presidium. The sound of distant voices drifted through, the soft cadences of Thessíe—the primary asari language—matched with a guttural turian dialect, both below the volume threshold of her translator. On the far side of the ring, she could see part of a large statue of a krogan battlemaster, this one standing proud after their victory in the Rachni War. If they had only known what the future held, as their species stalked eagerly from one war and into the next, would they have tried another way?

She dismissed thoughts of the past, and the lessons it contained, to focus her attention on the room's sole occupant. A male turian, lean and sharp-eyed, he did not even look up as she approached, focusing instead on his computer terminal. His name was Venari Pallin, Executor of Citadel Security, known as CSec.

When he did look up, it was to make a full assessment of her. He wouldn't know her by sight, but he might recognize her name, which she suspected was already displayed on his console. Her RFID signal, illegally emulated by her omnitool, rather than sent by the disabled chip in her arm, would have allowed him to access her profile as soon as she came through the door. People tended to expect something different from the Heroine of Elysium, more polish, or a more dominant presence, and didn't always know what to make of what they got.

"Can I help you, human?" His words had the hard mechanical edge of a translator, which also muted his true voice, leaving an odd disconnect between his words and the movement of his mouth, like a badly-dubbed vid. She detected no recognition in his dark eyes, but at least she had his full attention.

"Kara Shepard, I'm with the Alliance. The Council has authorized me to investigate the recent attack on Eden Prime."

"So I see, Commander. If you're looking for advice, the best place to look for evidence is the scene of the crime. You should start there."

Kara smiled. "I did. I'm surprised you didn't know that. Our report would have gone through your office."

"Typical human," the turian grunted, "always thinking the rules don't apply to you. Let me tell you something, Commander; in thirty years in CSec, I've had to deal with the scum of the galaxy, and never once bent or broken the rules to bring them to justice. Those rules say that we don't share information with anyone, civilian or military, and the Council can't change that."

"And how many spectres have you taken down?" Kara asked.

Pallin's mandibles flared irritation. "I will not use the Council's questionable decision to create the Spectres to justify breaking the law."

Kara did not approve of the power granted to Spectres anymore than she did dogmatic adherence to 'the law'. The law was hardly the monolithic mass that such an attitude implied, as the rules could be, and often were, changed to benefit those who wrote them.

"I know what you're going to say. Laws aren't perfect, but they're the common ground that allows us to built a civilization that includes so many conflicting cultures."

"Mutual respect is what makes a civilization," Kara replied. Respect that grew out of understanding, rather than the threat of institutional violence, which the law represented. In this case, the law shielded someone that was beyond its authority to challenge, which presented a paradox for the Executor. "All I'm asking for is cooperation in pursuit of a common goal. If you can't help me, do you know anyone who can?"

"All CSec officers are constrained by the law, Commander. Not just those who find it convenient," the turian said, his voice taking on a sharper tone, as though he was offended by the question. She wondered if he was thinking about someone in particular. The officer assigned to investigate Saren? "Now, unless there's something else, I've got important matters to take care of."

Kara sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair, as Pallin turned his attention back to his console. She would have to try Harkin, and hope he could be trusted.

Kara gritted her teeth, and tried not to allow the throbbing music to transmogrify into a throbbing headache. She hated loud bars, their foul smell and repetitive music, the constant flashing advertisements, and of course the clientele. She disliked the exotic dancing almost as much. Maybe it was simply her sensitivity to human culture, but there was a causal sexism to it, an objectification, that set her teeth on edge. She half wondered if Udina had suggested the place as a punishment for her behavior, but he couldn't have known.

Determinedly, she made her way past around the bar. An older man, a fringe of greying hair surrounding his bare scalp, sat against the far wall, his eyes glazed with alcohol and more as he watched the nearest half-naked dancer, a brown-skinned human woman. He matched the description Anderson provided her with, though she doubted he'd be much help. Regardless, she took a seat across from him. "You Harkin?"

He stirred, his eyes hazily focusing upon her. "Yeeah, princess. Who's askin'?"

Her jaw tightened. Anderson hadn't mentioned that the man was a misogynistic prat, as well as corrupt, in addition to being corrupt. "I'm looking for information."

"Why don't we discuss it over a lap dance," Harkin drawled. He patted his thigh.

Kara's hand clenched involuntarily. The last time anyone had propositioned her, she kneed him in the groin, and it was no less tempting now. She walked around the table, dragged Harkin off his chair, and shoved him up against the wall. He struggled to break free, but a life of corruption hadn't left him in the best shape. "Listen up, you pathetic little shit," she hissed, leaning in close enough to taste his foul breath. "This is the only kind of physical contact you and I are going to have, so you can either answer my questions, or I can leave you here to drown in your own fucking vomit. Clear?"

Harkin didn't look frightened, just uncomfortable as he struggled to breath. "Alright, jeez, I was just foolin'!"

A few seconds later, the ex-cop was curled up on the floor, wheezing in pain. He was a contemptible creature, hardly worth her time anymore. It said a great deal about humanity that it defended something like him. She crouched over him. "One more chance."

He straightened himself out with some difficulty, unabashedly massaging his groin. Behind the pain, there was anger in his eyes. "What do you want to know?"

"I need information on Saren Artarius, the Spectre. Or anyone that might know about the attack on Eden Prime."

"Shit, you're Shepard. Fuck," Harkin swore. "Look, it's more than my life is worth to pry into his affairs. I can't help you, I don't know anything, and I don't want to."

His fear was genuine, if his fresh focus was any indication, but she doubted his claims of ignorance. "I don't believe you," she told him coldly.

"It's true!" Kara grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him to his feet. "Alright, alright. I heard a few things. They executor assigned some turian hotshot, name of Garrus Vakarian, to investigate Saren. He might be able to help you."

"Anything else?"

"A Volus named Barla Von. He's a financial advisor by trade, but he does some deals for the Shadow Broker on the side. The Broker'll have something for you, but it won't come cheap."

She didn't know much about the Shadow Broker, just enough to know that no one really did. An elusive individual, or organization, trading information to the highest bidder, she assumed the Alliance had contacts of its own, and had already pressed them for information about Saren. The turian would be a more reliable place to start, if he was more willing to talk than the Executor.

"Thanks," she said, contemplating him for a moment longer. He merely stared back, beginning to look glazed again. She pushed him back to his chair, then she fled the room as quickly as she could. Once out the door, she kept walking until the music faded into the noise of the shoppers traversing the wards.

Calm. She breathed deeply, again and again, letting the tension drain—

"Commander? Are you alright?"

She opened her eyes, finding Alenko staring into her face. "I'm fine. We need to find a CSec officer, Garrus Vakarian."

His concerned expression didn't fade, much to her annoyance. "Sir, I'll check with CSec, they'll know where to find him. Why don't you wait here?" She raised an eyebrow. "Sir."

Kara had meant to question his concern, not his protocol, so she nodded affirmation. Every night since her contact with the artifact, the images it had burned into her mind were echoed in her dreams, but she remained unable to draw much meaning from them. They warned of death, Whatever they meant, she woke up feeling drained, not well-rested.

With Alenko gone, she turned to Williams. "Care for something to drink, Ash?" she asked, gesturing at a nearby café, open to the promenade on two sides. The flowing alien script above the door was written Thessié, and seemed to be a proper name.

"No, sir," Williams replied.

Kara shrugged, and made her way over, the marine trailing close behind. The customers were mostly asari, a few salarians and only one other human, all looking pleased with their orders. When she reached the counter, the asari smiled at her, and greeted her with an accented English 'hello', before reverting to Thessíe, mechanically translated. "What can I get you?"

The young asari's friendly demeanor, and pretty blue eyes, tempted her to ignore the menu. "Hot tea. A kind you like."

"You enjoy surprises?"

"Sometimes," Kara said, smiling softly. It felt like the first time all day that she'd done so, and she appreciated the chance, and she leaned against the counter. "It depends upon the company."

The blue asari laughed, as she busied herself with Kara's order. "I do believe you're flirting with me."

"No, I—" Kara cut off her objection, and shook her head, still smiling. She had let herself get swept up by the moment. "I am, yes."

"Well, don't stop. You seem like the charming type."

Kara laughed, shaking her head. "Not as charming as your smile."

"I knew it," the asari grinned, setting a ceramic mug on the counter. The rising steam carried a scent somewhat reminiscent of fresh ginger and basil. "Zarrisa leaf, with a hint of cardamom. An uncommon tea for an uncommon woman. Enjoy."

"It would taste better if I didn't have to drink it alone," Kara said, confirming payment from her omnitool.

"I'd love to join you, but Laeral won't be in for another hour. Didn't you come in with that marine?" Following the asari's gesture, Kara spotted Ashley, seated at a table with a good view of the promenade, and her back to the wall. Her lips were set in a firm scowl. "I don't think she approves of me."

"No," Kara sighed, her good mood beginning to fade. She turned back to the asari, mustering one final smile. "Thanks for being friendly…"

"Saria."

"You've brightened an otherwise grim day, Saria. Thank you," she finished.

Saria smiled at her. "Come back any time."

Wishing that she could, that she had the time or the freedom, Kara walked over the Ashley's table, and sat down. She ignored the marine, as she sipped carefully at her tea. It tasted quite different from how it smelled, a subtle combination of flavors, dominated by a compelling bitterness. "It's better than coffee," she said, looking up. "Care for a taste, Ash?"

"What-why were you flirting with that thing?"

Kara groaned inwardly as her briefly cheerful mood faded completely. There were times when she regretting ever coming back to the Alliance. "Two things," she said, quietly, meeting the young woman's gaze coldly. "First, if I ever hear you talk like that again, you'll find yourself scrubbing the Normandy's waste storage tanks until your transfer back planetside comes through. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Secondly, why shouldn't I? I didn't hear her objecting."

"But it-she isn't human."

Kara sighed, annoyed, but not entirely surprised. It was a fairly common attitude, which only made it seem more distasteful. "I'm not interested in sorting out your prejudices." She said, stared into her cup. The liquid was orangish and slightly cloudy. She took another drink. "Go meet an asari or two, or a turian. Get to know an elcor. Be sure to report back in time for your next shift."

"You're dismissing me?" Williams asked, looking shocked and more than a little angry.

Was she? Kara guessed that Ashley's attitude reflected ignorance more than bigotry, but it sounded the same, and she couldn't have the marine mouthing off in front of Garrus, or wherever else the trail led, and perhaps it would broaden Williams' mind a little. Either that, or she would know to start filling out transfer orders. "I am. Be off with you."

"Yes, sir," Williams acknowledge sharply, and stalked off. Kara wondered if she'd lose the weapons before attempting to make friends, or if she'd just find a corner to sulk in.

Either way, she had peace at last. She took of breath of tea-scented air, switched off her translator, and closed her eyes. She could hear eight different voices, speaking different languages and dialects, competing for her attention with the jazz-like background music of the café. Both were intriguing windows into other cultures, and almost hypnotic in her present state.

"Alenko to Commander Shepard."

She sighed, and activated her omnitool. "Shepard here."

"I found Lieutenant Vakarian. He's agreed to meet us on the Presidium Commons, section two-alpha. I'll catch up to you there."

"I'm on my way, Lieutenant."

Finishing the rest of her tea, Kara brought the cup to the counter with her. She smiled at Saria, but the asari was busy filling an order for another customer, and replied only with a faint nod.

AN: Chapter two has been split in half, with most of it ending up here, so Ch.3 'Pilgrims' will be getting some new content. I won't expand on what I'm planning, but I shouldn't have any trouble coming up with stuff.