The Candidate – 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect. It belongs to Bioware and Drew Karpyshyn. I am merely playing in their universe.

The Background Check

There was a long silence after the Matriarch applauded the young human on his perspicuity. Both of them were staring at each other, even while neither of them moved, both taking the measure of the other. Shepard had been terrified by the Asari Matriarch's ability to see through all his schemes with almost contemptuous ease. He had always expected that the head of Armali's intelligence to be a formidable character, but he had never expected someone like Matriarch Thalia. But he supposed that if one kept doing the same thing for six hundred years, playing all these mind games day in and day out, then it was unsurprising that one would be exceptionally good at it. Well, he had played his game and had succeeded at it. It mattered little what she did now.

On the other hand, the Matriarch was impressed by Shepard's ability to circumvent obstacles, and achieve his objectives without calling attention to himself. She bore him no grudge for playing the other Matriarchs and the Spectre with his half truths. He would be a useful figure to cultivate. Her mind was already abuzz with plans and ideas for him.

It was Shepard who broke the silence, "So what happens now, Matriarch?"

"We shall speak of that later," replied the Matriarch. "For now, you should focus on regaining your strength. You must be tired."

Shepard reflected that if the Matriarch intended to have him killed for figuring out the truth regarding Benezia, there was not much he could do about it. Here, he was in the heart of the Asari territory, and he had no doubt that he was being watched every moment. Perhaps Vasir would even volunteer to do the honours, if the Asari decided that he had to be removed. With an internal effort, he pulled himself out of his bleak reflections. The only way he could get out of the mess was by convincing the Asari that he was genuinely on their side. Or at least, a benign creature, who need not be feared. And for that, he needed …..

Shepard gave the Matriarch five minutes and then slipped leisurely into civilian clothes. That done, he walked out of the ward into the corridor, and into the nurses station. He asked politely, "Ma'am, can you please tell me where Lady Benezia's ward is? And is she receiving visitors?"

The nurse looked at a register, and replied, "She is in ward E47. I don't know whether she can receive visitors."

"Thank you, ma'am," bowed Shepard. He leisurely strolled towards the ward mentioned, his eyes watchful and wary as ever.

-(Scene Break)-

Matriarch Thalia did not waste time. When she emerged from the military hospital, her staff skycar was already waiting for her. Ten minutes later, she was in her office, and the case officer, Amira Aduon, who had been assigned to looking up Shepard's background was standing before her.

Matriarch Thalia did not waste time. "What did you gather about him, other than what was given to the Council?"

Amira answered, "I went back to his school days. He was, as his file claimed, an extraordinarily gifted student, winning several prizes for his capabilities in mathematics, computer algorithms and, surprisingly, chemistry. I also interviewed his biotics tutor. Both his teachers' evaluations and his biotics tutor agree on two things. First, that despite his phenomenal talents, he never called any attention to himself, being quiet, with perfect manners, and a mild, inoffensive exterior, and was always self effacing. In school, he was called `das Gespenst' – the ghost. He was already on his way to becoming a extraordinarily good agent. Further, according to his biotics tutor, Matron Irissa, his parents pushed him to the limits of his endurance and abilities, and he came through it successfully. The result is that he became extraordinarily self reliant, independent, thorough and resourceful. He graduated from high school at seventeen, went to university earning himself a master's degree in computer science with a thesis on mathematical evaluation of non-harmonic coherent states. After that, despite several lucrative corporate offers, he went on to join Alliance Naval Technical Intelligence, and has worked for them for the last seven years. It was really rare for them to get someone of his skills, so he was regarded as something of a prize catch, and was groomed for a high post in the Technical Intelligence."

At this, Amira looked up at her superior, and Matriarch Thalia gestured to her to proceed. The younger Asari continued, "There he has led three major operations, as his file to the Council details. His first was his position as the leader of the team in charge of the enemy communications blackout on Torfan during the Alliance raid on that moon. As you know, he accomplished it superbly – even the Salarians were surprised by its thoroughness, and were unable to get details of the attack or the events inside. That, by the way, is one reason even we have very little information on what exactly happened during the attack. However, we do know two things. As you know, the Alliance soldiers perpetrated many atrocities in the campaign. Shepard went about stopping them as best as he could, in between his intelligence duties. At first, he complained to his superiors about the `ungentlemanly behaviour', as he put it. But, when his complaints had no effect, he acted on his own. In his free time, he often went around the battle lines, at great personal risk to himself, to help the wounded and the prisoners."

Amira continued, "I spoke to a couple of Asari doctors, who were stuck on Torfan at the time. They were trapped in their hotel basement, which served as a makeshift hospital, and they were treating the wounded Batarian soldiers. This is precisely what one of them had to say." She switched on a portable holo-vid player.

The door burst open and a bunch of Alliance soldiers rushed in. Seeing the two wounded Batarian soldiers, the older soldier – a sergeant – barked harshly, "More Batarian bastards! Out with them, my lads!"

The two Batarians on the sleeping bags on the floor merely looked resigned, while my sister stepped in front of the Batarian soldiers. "Officer, in the name of decency! They're in no condition to be moved!"

The sergeant seemed amused with the protest. "For fuck's sake, blue! D'you think it is for the benefit of their health we're taking them?"

"What do you plan to do with them?" I demanded.

The sergeant looked indifferently at me. "No business of yours!"

"It's my business," I returned. "They're my patients."

"They won't be for much longer," returned the soldier grimly. "Where are their IDs?"

My sister pointed to the side table where we had put all their identification and other possessions. The sergeant nodded to one of the soldiers to get them, while he tried to step around my sister to get to the wounded Batarian soldiers, but she blocked him again. He shoved her aside, sending her stumbling back, and reached down to savagely yank up one of the wounded Batarian soldiers by the bunched folds of the shirt, ignoring his hiss of pain.

He looked at the Batarian for a long moment, slapped him twice, open handed and back handed, and then flung him contemptuously towards his men. He approached the Batarian, rubbing his fists, even as his men held the Batarian back by his arms. But the Batarian, sensing that something sinister was intended, lashed out with his feet at the sergeant, catching him squarely in the gut. The Alliance soldier gave a dismal groan, and doubled up in agony. However, the other humans had grabbed the Batarian and I held my breath for the inevitable disaster, even as my sister was protesting something. At that moment, another figure, a tall, spare human, appeared in the doorway. He was dressed in a clean and well pressed Alliance uniform, his polished boots reflecting the overhead light, a total contrast from the ragged, battle stained appearance of the others. A solid pair of glasses framed his cold black eyes, and two heavy solid bars enclosing a thinner bar on his sleeve announced his rank – that of a lieutenant. He took in everything in a glance – the manhandled Batarian in the hands of the Alliance soldiers, the groaning sergeant, the cowering Asari, and the other injured Batarian on the sleeping bag. There were no questions, no exclamations of surprise, or demands for explanations. Two long strides, and he had reached the sergeant, whom he hauled up to his feet, ignoring his gasps of agony and white face. Then he spoke, his cold, hard voice scarcely more than a whisper, "Idiot! When you interrogate a prisoner, you stand clear of his feet!"

The sergeant stood unsteadily, still grunting from agony. The officer spoke, "Who are these?" The inclination of the head indicated the Batarians.

"Filthy Batarian bastards!" grunted the sergeant.

"Naturally!" smiled the officer. "All Batarians are filthy bastards!" There was an undercurrent of irony in his voice. "But I don't want your opinion. What are their names?"

"We don't know, sir. We're just getting their dog tags." It was one of the other soldiers who answered him.

"Give them to me, sergeant."

"They're there," wheezed the sergeant, indicating the side table. He was still struggling to stand upright.

"Give them to me, sergeant." The request, in tone, inflection, and in every way, was a carbon copy of the first. Yet the sergeant obeyed him with alacrity.

For a long moment, the officer looked at the dog tags. "Excellent! Excellent, indeed! These are our men!"

"Your men!" demanded the sergeant. "What the hell do you mean?"

The officer simply fixed the sergeant with one of his pitiless, icy stares. The older human almost seemed to shrink before the glance. "I have my rare moments of generosity. We will forget for now what you said and how you said it."

"But, sir, ..." began one of the other soldiers.

"I'll ask the questions here, if you don't mind," murmured the officer silkily. "What else did you find?"

"Nothing, sir. We've had no time to search."

"Good! I need to interview these Batarians. You and your men will kindly leave!"

"But …," began the sergeant.

"Do you have an objection, sergeant?" The voice was a soft, deadly whisper.

"I only thought ..,"

Cold, cutting anger was in the officer's voice. "Who besought you to think? Leave it to those capable of such feats!" He produced a wallet from his pocket, and displayed an identification from it. "Enough authority to take charge of your prisoners?"

"Yes, sir!" The sergeant and his soldiers saluted and departed, leaving us alone with the officer and the two Batarian prisoners.

Once the other soldiers were gone, the officer turned towards us and spoke, not kindly, but with an icily repressed anger. "Are you alright?"

My sister murmured, "Yes, thank you."

He spoke sharply, "Your patients. Do they need anything?"

"Antibiotics," replied my sister unsteadily. "We are out of them."

"I can get you some from the Alliance Medical Services," nodded the officer. "Please write down what you need, and I'll see what I can do."

He then wrote a letter stating that we were both treating Batarian prisoners wanted by Alliance Intelligence. He signed it, and stamped it with his official seal, and handed it to us. He spoke quietly, "If you find any more wounded Batarians, get them here. You should be able to treat them here without being molested. And if you need any food, or medical supplies, let me know. There'll be a guard outside, who can help you contact me."

"But I thought these two were …," began my sister, before the truth dawned on us. The officer was using this masquerade to spare the Batarians from the horrible fate that would possibly overtake them in the hands of the victorious Alliance soldiers.

The officer spoke quietly and firmly, "The fighting is over, ma'am, but the devilry is just beginning. Keep yourself inside, and don't leave the building unless it is an emergency."

Matriarch Thalia leant back in her chair as the holo-vid ended. "Interesting," she muttered.

"It surprised me," admitted Amira. "I had never figured him for a bleeding heart."

"I wonder now," murmured Matriarch Thalia.

"Ma'am?"

"One thing I found out today is that the smallest of Shepard's actions are directed towards some practical end. He is, simply put, the single most icily calculating and ruthlessly focussed bastard I've ever come across." There was a moment of silence, and then the Matriarch made a gesture of dismissal. "So what else did you figure out, Amira?" she inquired.

"While his performance of his official duties during the campaign was brilliant and acknowledged as such, he also outraged his superiors by recommending action against several officers and soldiers for war crimes. Consequently, he was bundled off to an assignment that put him well away from other Alliance departments and officers. His job was to build up intelligence links with the colonies in the Traverse. Left there, and assigned only a small budget, and a smaller staff, with sheer dint of merit and cold grit, he has turned it into one of the largest intelligence brokerages in the Traverse."

Matriarch Thalia's lips curled slightly. Yes, that defined Shepard well and what little she had seen of him had only encouraged that impression. There were, she knew, two types of agents. The old agents, and the bold ones. There were rarely any old and bold agents. Those that existed in the latter category were usually the elite and more importantly, lucky, survivalists. Shepard, it appeared, was one of the latter.

"What about his personal life?" demanded the Matriarch.

For the first time, Amira hesitated. Her superior queried, "He keeps his personal life so well hidden?"

"No, nothing like that," returned the younger Asari. "It is just that his personal life does not seem to exist at all."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing we, or even the Salarians have been able to discover. I used all our leverage with the Salarians, and even they came up blank. But there seems no one in his life. No girlfriend, close friend, hobby, or even a pet. There is no picture of anyone in his flat, which contains only the most basic essentials. He lives alone, surrounded by his computers, his nanoelectronics, his books, and his chemicals. There is almost nothing to show he even has a personal side. He seems to be an intellectual ascetic."

"Almost?" The Matriarch had caught the qualification.

"He talks to his parents once in a few months. He also gets a birthday card every year from someone who signs it `M'."

"Who is this `M'?"

"No idea, ma'am.," replied Amira.

The Matriarch ordered, "Keep an eye on him while he is here."

The younger Asari bowed and departed.

-(Scene Break)-

Liara and Tali, along with one of Matriarch Benezia's students who had been rescued from Noveria, were sitting in the visiting room of the wards, when Shepard strolled in. He stood just a couple of paces away from the group, and his voice was gentle as he spoke, "How is the Matriarch? And the other students?"

The entire group turned to face the newcomer. Shepard saw that the Prothean researcher had been crying, and her eyes were bleary and bloodshot. The others remained quiet, but Liara answered, "We don't know."

"Don't know?"

"The doctors have not been able to find out what's wrong with her." She wrung her hands in worry. "She just seems to alternate between …."

What she would have said became academic as the other Asari laid a warning hand on her arm. Shepard smiled, a trifle sadly, thought Tali. "Your wariness is understandable, Dr. Iallis. But it is also superfluous. I already know what she alternates between."

All three of his interlocutors were surprised. "How do you know?" demanded Alestia Iallis.

Shepard replied calmly, "When the Binary Helix VI was restored, I used it to activate the surveillance cameras in all the labs. Before I had Dr. T'Soni contact you, I knew exactly how much the Asari had suffered and how badly affected the Matriarch was."

"You spied on them? You knew about my mother? And yet you didn't tell me?" There was righteous indignation and astonishment in Liara's voice.

"Tell you what, Doctor? The she curses Saren at times, and then proclaims her undying loyalty to him?" There was gentle remonstrance in Shepard's voice. "What would that have conveyed to you?" When neither of the Asari replied, Shepard shrugged, "I was hoping she might recover from her ordeal before you saw her. Her suffering was private and not right for another to intrude on. If it were not for the necessity of planning the rescue, I should not have pried into it."

Liara returned forcefully, "I deserved to know."

"Perhaps you are right, Doctor. But I wished you could avoid having to see her thus."

"So you say," returned Alestia suspiciously. "We've no reason to believe you. After all, it was humans conducting the rachni breeding programme! You could just have been interested in it!"

"If that were my reason, there would be no need to rescue you. I could have just killed you all and returned to Alliance space!"

"And how could a single human have killed half a dozen well trained and armed Asari commandos?" demanded Alestia incredulously.

"I pumped in methylfentanyl into the ventilation systems. I could have pumped in prussic acid [1]. I assure you – none of you would have survived."

There was dead silence at that pronouncement.

"We have other matters to worry about, right now," sighed Shepard, breaking the pause.

"Such as?" inquired Liara.

"Ourselves and the Matriarch," returned Shepard firmly. After a moment's pause, he continued, "So they cannot figure out what was done to the Matriarch or the other Asari?"

Dr. Iallis looked defeated, as she answered, "No."

Liara and Alestia exchanged a glance, and then Liara began tremulously, "Shepard, when people find out about my mother ..."

"I don't think you need concern yourself about that. If it comes to that, I can give it out to the press that the Matriarch and her students have been injured in an accident. I am very certain that I can persuade Matriarch Artemisia and Councillor Tevos will go along with that story. No connection need be made to Saren. In fact, I will be surprised if the Councillor or the Matriarchs don't suggest that."

"But, Shepard, people will know about Binary Helix and my mother ..."

"How?" questioned Shepard. "The only ones who know can say anything authoritatively are we four, apart from Tela Vasir, the Asari Councillor, and a couple of Matriarchs here. They dare not say anything about it, because if they accuse your mother, Liara, they will essentially be accusing Armali itself of being an accessory in what the Matriarch was doing." He continued, "No, no – in this matter, they can do nothing publicly. The only danger we have to fear is covert action to silence us."

Both the Asari and the Quarian were completely flummoxed by this statement. "What do you mean?"

Shepard questioned, "You don't know that they had sent an Asari spectre – Tela Vasir – to kill the Matriarch if she could not be rescued?"

"What?"

"Oh yes!" nodded Shepard. "Tela Vasir was shadowing us – Tali, Liara and myself – all the time in Noveria. If we failed to get the Matriarch out safely, Vasir was to eliminate all evidence of the Matriarch, along with us!"

"But – but why, Shepard?" blurted out Tali.

"The business with Saren is explosive," sighed Shepard. "A former councillor of Armali providing an alibi for a large scale attack on a Prothean beacon and the symbol of human colonisation puts the government of Armali in a very delicate situation. If the Matriarch could not be recovered without arousing suspicion, they would prefer to eliminate all evidence that connects Armali to Saren. That is why there were no Asari assigned to help us on Noveria. They could not afford to be seen having anything to do with the Matriarch."

The others were gaping at him, as he continued quietly, "All this was before the knowledge of the association with the rachni became evident. Can you imagine the reaction if it became known that one of the foremost Matriarchs of Armali was involved in an exercise involving breeding rachni? Or torturing a rachni queen for information."

"But she has been rescued, now," pointed out Liara.

"Aye," nodded Shepard. "And we cannot talk either, without accusing ourselves of being accessories in the Matriarch's deeds, several counts of trespassing and breaking and entering, possession of illegal substances, and vandalism on a rather large scale." There was a slight smile on Shepard's lips. "However, the danger to Armali is much more serious, though. So – they have two options. Bribe us or silence us. I don't know what they will choose. I fear I might have increased the danger for you, though."

"Why so?"

"If I had informed the Alliance of what was happening in Noveria, we would be safer. It would be pointless to silence us, if the Alliance already knew the entire truth," replied Shepard.

"You have not told them?" The surprised question had come from Liara.

"No, of course not!"

"Why not?"

"Because once I told the Alliance, it would be impossible to protect the Matriarch," pointed out Shepard. "She would be vilified, and her reputation ruined." There was a moment's silence, and then Shepard continued, "If there is one thing my job has taught me, it is discretion. Indiscretion can kill much more effectively than anything else."

Then Alestia Iallis came to her conclusion. "You hint at a bargain," she remarked.

Shepard closed his eyes. It was really tiring to deal with these suspicious, callow Asari. "I hint at something to give. Something, that, I have already freely given." Seeing the sceptical looks, he replied, "You doubt my sincerity? There is no reason to. What can it profit me to rake up a scandal against a woman who is incapable of defending herself, dooming myself at the same time?" He continued, "No one else needs to know. That is also why I erased the entire footage of the Matriarch's lab from the VI before we left Noveria. Which reminds me." He reached into his tunic and produced an OSD. "The originals of the Binary Helix surveillance videos. If you are wise, you will destroy it. Without this proof, no one can convict the Matriarch of anything without our evidence."

The two Asari were staring agape at the human, who was offering to cover up for them all. Liara voiced the question of both the Asari, "Why are you doing this, Shepard?"

"Quite apart from the fact that I gave you my word that I would help your mother, you mean?" Seeing her nod, he continued, "First, I really admire the Matriarch's attempts to stop Saren. It was fantastic – inspired! To walk into the power of such a dangerous creature as Saren and try to turn him away from his destructive path – it requires courage, calculation and resource. Also a willingness to put herself in danger. All these are admirable qualities. I would not damn a woman for trying to stop a monster."

"But it backfired! It's left her …." Liara was almost in tears.

Shepard looked kindly at her. "That is not to be held against her. In all honesty, I don't think anyone realised just what kinds of powers Saren wields. No one could have foreseen that Saren had discovered a way to dominate the minds of others."

"So what other reasons did you have?" inquired Alestia.

"The Matriarch is a very influential diplomat," replied Shepard. "Helping her get out of this mess would be a great way to build bridges with the Asari. And we humans need allies. Already we have alienated too many. It will not have escaped you that we are seen as too grasping, too pushy, and too reckless?" The other three nodded. "What better way than to show that we can be trusted than by helping an influential Matriarch? We cannot expect allies if we're simply too caught up in our own self interest. We must be ready to put something on the table."

"And those were your only reasons?" asked Alestia.

"What other reasons could I have?"

There were sombre silence at this, as Shepard continued, "There is not much we can do for now, whatever their intentions. We are all prisoners in this hospital ..."

"Prisoners?"

"Aye," nodded Shepard. "Try to leave now, and you will be politely told at the gates that you must return to the hospital to renew your strength and must wait until you are discharged by the doctors. "

Shepard looked at the others and they were all hanging on to his every word. `Good,' he thought. 'They are now eating out of my hands.' Aloud he continued, "For now, we cannot do much. We just need to keep our eyes and ears open. For as long as we are alive, they will not dare harm the Matriarch."

"Why?"

"Because their own downfall must immediately follow, if the Matriarch is killed and we are alive to publish the fact! We could tell the entire truth, and that is something that they will not have. So we must plan on staying alive, while seeing what we can do for the Matriarch."

-(Author's Notes)-

[1] – Prussic Acid is the common name for hydrocyanic acid, or hydrogen cyanide, as it is sometimes called. A variant of it, zyklon-B, was used to murder millions in gas chambers in World War 2.

Well, this was a hard chapter for me to write. A bit of Shepard's background, and Shepard's own planning and scheming. I had promised the information about the rachni queen. That will come in the next chapter.

Congratulations to the commenter `Janizary'. He was the first to figure out the methylfentanyl source. It was used by the Russian authorities to incapacitate the Chechen terrorists in the Moscow theatre crisis in 2002.