*CITADEL*
Kraven Shepard had always been a talker. No matter where he was or who was with him, he could strike up a conversation. It was actually something he prided himself on. This Quarian girl however, utterly put his conversation skills to shame. She was obviously incredibly shy, at least at first. However, no sooner had they gotten aboard a lift to the Presidium than the subject of her people came up, and the flood gates came crashing open. He barely got a word in edgewise between descriptions of the Quarian fleet, their governing system, Pilgrimage, AI research, subsequent AI dismantling efforts, and the list went on and on.
Granted, the lift moved at the speed of cold molasses, so she had plenty of time to explain each and every detail. Had anyone else talked at him that much, he would have politely pretended to listen while letting his mind wander. Surprisingly, in this instance the never-ending stream of words was actually pretty engaging. He'd never met a Quarian before so every little tidbit of information was new and at least somewhat interesting. He was also surprised at just how little effort it took for her to open up, and spill her whole can of beans. No wonder she'd been double crossed so easily by Fist.
"Almost no one refuses out of tradition, but to bring a subpar gift to your new Captain is considered something of a mild insult." She was just explaining further about returning from Pilgrimage.
"So, what are you thinking you'll bring back?" Shepard asked, checking the lift's floor indicator for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Her newly displayed enthusiasm quickly shriveled behind a wall of insecurity. "I'm… not really sure."
Her change in demeanor didn't go unnoticed. "Well, is there any way to put something together using some supplies from the Citadel and that engineering prowess you mentioned?" Shepard offered.
She shook her head. "Nothing that would be good enough, and I don't have enough money to afford any decent materials."
The Commander frowned. The little black raincloud forming over her head was going to harsh the buzz of sticking it to Saren and the Council. "There's got to be something… I mean the data you're carrying is going to be what convicts Saren, and he was working with the Geth. Wouldn't your people find that valuable?"
"It would be seen as an accomplishment for sure, but doesn't really benefit the fleet in any way." She answered morosely.
Time to put those conversation skills to work. "Ok, let's break this down then. You need something directly valuable to the Flotilla or your ship specifically. It can either be tangible, like a ship or technology, or it could be some kind of action that resulted in appreciable results to the Fleet." He tapped his chin for a few seconds to mull over the possibilities. Suddenly it came to him. "Well. There's bound to be a lot of Geth between here and Saren. I imagine we'll come across something worth bringing back if you come along."
Her head came up but her eyes visibly narrowed. "And what would you want in return?"
'To get a closer look at how those legs work.' He thought to himself. "You said you were something of a prodigy in engine mechanics and if things shake out how I'm expecting them to I'll need all the help I can get. Besides, it looks like you're not half bad with that little pop gun either."
She wasn't sure whether to be thankful or insulted. "You… you mean it? You want me to come with you?"
He shrugged and idly rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm hoping to chase down the most infamous Spectre in Council history. It sure as hell won't be a walk in the park and you've seen the people I'm picking up. We'll all be crammed into some Alliance issue tin can for the next…" He glanced down at the imaginary watch on his left wrist. "Lord knows how long. If you're alright with that, then yeah." He extended his "watch" hand.
She stared intently into his eyes to fully determine whether she could trust him or not before slowly extending her own. His fingers tightened around her palm. "You join up, you're in it till the end. I'll help you find what you need to go back home but no skipping out until Saren's six feet under. Agreed?"
She applied equal pressure in her own grip. As if she of all people would leave a job half done. "Agreed… but six feet under what?"
Kraven sighed to himself. He was going to need to work on his idiom usage.
*CITADEL*
"You wanted proof. There it is." Ambassador Udina smugly gestured to the Councillors in front of him.
Shepard stood back a few feet watching the evidence presentation and stewing about Udina usurping his glory. He barely heard the Councilors' responses as he eyed the back of the ambassador's balding head. The words "extremely punchable" drifted through his mind as his imagination likened Udina's nugget to a lumpy peach that was starting to grow grayish fuzz. He snapped out of his grim reverie when the Ambassador's voice started to raise.
"Send your fleet in!" Udina bellowed with a clenched fist.
"A fleet cannot hunt down one man." The Salarian Councillor objected.
Shepard tended to disagree in this case considering the Geth were also involved, but wouldn't bother saying as much. Instead he'd finally been presented the opportunity he'd been waiting for. "Then send me." He interrupted flatly.
Every person present, including the random few that had gathered in the balconies surrounding the council chamber, knew exactly what he was implying. The Turian Councillor immediately shook his head and made a cutting motion with his taloned hand. "Out of the question. Humanity isn't ready for the responsibility of joining the Spectres."
Kraven almost literally licked his lips. It looked like he might get his chance to rub their collective noses in it after all. "Humanity isn't ready for the responsibility, huh?"
"Shepard…" Udina tried to caution but he might as well have told the Citadel to stop spinning.
"I'm sorry, Councillors. I was under the impression that I just secured the evidence proving the Spectre, Saren's attack on Eden Prime. The crime which you cleared him of all charges for..." He looked at the imaginary watch on his wrist again. "About six hours ago. So imagine my shock at having busted the case in so short a time! The implications are staggering, aren't they?"
Udina attempted to interpose himself between the Commander and Councillors as various levels of rage started to twist their features, but again it was a lost cause. Anyone who knew Shepard was well aware of his temper, and were wise enough not to get caught in its way. He enjoyed the vindication far too much to stop now anyway.
"Well save your sermons cause this ain't no church. I did what you didn't want to and exposed the shit in your punch bowl." Damn with the idioms again. He needed to stop doing that. "So now who's going to clean up the mess? Like you said, you can't send a fleet for one man and none of your other Spectres are batshit crazy enough to try to hunt him down themselves." Now to swoop in for the kill. He spread his arms wide. "You've got someone ready and willing right here. You want this problem to go away? I'm the only one who can do it."
It was a calculated risk going off the rails like that, but he knew they were in a very tight spot. Saren HAD to be dealt with or else they risked losing a great deal of credibility for the Spectre program in general. His line about the other Spectres not wanting any part was also complete bullshit, but he needed to sell his case if he wanted the chance to carve Jenkins' name in Saren's skull.
His heart nearly thudded out of his chest as the three Councilors glanced back, and forth at one another without saying a word. It was clear none of them appreciated being bent over a barrel, especially in front of so many onlookers, but they all obviously knew their backs were against a wall. Finally, with subtle nods from her peers to the right and left, the Asari broke the tense silence.
"Very well, Shepard. We acknowledge your request to join the Spectres and approve your induction into their ranks."
He slowly let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding as they gave some overinflated speech about responsibility, and being the arm of the Council or something. It was clear from their faces that all three would rather tear him a new one for letting Nihlus die, but none ended up giving in to the temptation.
'Too bad.' He thought to himself as the three stuffed shirts shuffled off their pulpits while he was ushered back down the stairs to the tower's foyer. He couldn't help the villainous grin that spread across his face at seeing his newly forming team's expressions. 'Oh yeah. This is going to be one hell of a ride.'