"Damn, nice shot." Shepard said with an approving nod, stepping over a few bodies towards the turian.
"Sometimes you get lucky." Garrus said, but the smile his flared mandible gave betrayed his humility. "Not too bad yourself. You might have even beat me to that last one."
Shepard smirked. "It was a clean sweep." He paused as the recently rescued redhead cleared her throat. Oh yeah. "Are you alright, doctor?"
"Yes, thank you commander. If it wasn't for you and Officer Vakarian, I would have been killed!" Dr. Michel stepped towards Garrus, grasping his talons in her hands. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Her heavy accent and dramatic flair made Shepard resist the urge to roll his eyes.
"Do you know whose men these were?" He cut off any further adoration, and couldn't miss the grateful look on the turian's face as he quickly pulled his hand back from her.
"Fist sent them to keep me from talking to Garrus about the quarian. I sent her to him a few days ago when she came to me after being shot. She was scared, probably on the run." Dr. Michel informed him, looking a little nervous. "He's an agent for the Shadow Broker, and she said she was willing to trade information for a place to hide. Information on the geth."
Garrus shook his head. "Fist works for Saren now and, as I've heard it, the Shadow Broker isn't too happy about it." He shifted his weight, contemplating. "This quarian must have something he wants – something worth crossing the Shadow Broker to get."
"It must be evidence linking Saren to the geth!" Shepard cut in, enthusiastic to finally have some kind of a lead. He glanced at the turian officer, whose eyes mirrored his own determination.
"There's no way the Council can ignore this." Garrus said with a growl. "I'm coming with you, Shepard. I've been on this case for months. Saren is a traitor to the Council and a disgrace to my people. I want to bring him down just as badly as you do." He stated matter-of-factly, leaving no room for debate.
Shepard frowned. He's determined, I'll give him that. He gave the turian a once over, before his gaze fell to the thug with a bullet hole between his eyes. And there'll definitely be more idiots who need to be shot. "Sounds good to me." He said simply, then nodded to Dr. Michel in farewell before turning to leave. Williams was eyeing him incredulously, and began to open her mouth in what he assumed was protest. "Let's move out." He ordered, not allowing her the chance as their new squad mate fell in with them.
"Fist will be ready for us. He's got a small army of bodyguards around him in Chora's Den." The turian walked beside him as they cut through the wards. "If you want extra help, the Shadow Broker hired a krogan bounty hunter to take down Fist. He's up at C-Sec right now."
The commander nodded. I've always heard krogan make effective meat shields, and I'm sick of being shot at. "Alright, we're going to swing by C-Sec and see if this bounty hunter feels like sharing."
"Are you sure about this, sir?"
Shepard frowned, turning to face Williams. The two had been unusually quiet all day. It was understandable – the commander had been on fire after the debacle with the Council. After a shouting match with Udina amidst the bustle of the embassies, Shepard had stormed off with Anderson on his tail. He was then scolded like a petulant toddler and sent after some turian C-Sec agent, in the captain's final desperate hopes of exposing Saren.
Alenko's eyes were widened beside the soldier, clearly uncomfortable with her questioning their commander's decisions. The lieutenant gave the woman a warning nudge with his elbow.
"What's your concern, Chief?" The commander said as diplomatically as he could, but couldn't quite keep the edge out of his voice. What is her deal? He fixed his green eyes on her in a steady stare. She didn't back down.
"I don't think we should be bringing in anymore…" She cast an uncomfortable glance towards Garrus, "strangers into this investigation. What if Saren finds out we're on his trail?"
"How? Through the bounty hunter hired to take out his agent?" Shepard shook his head irritably, totally confused by the sudden show of caution from the soldier. "Or from the C-Sec investigator trying to bring him down?"
Williams took a step closer to him, closing the gap. Her brown eyes met his, serious as she replied in a hushed voice. "Allegedly." She murmured, "Allegedly trying to bring him down. He's a bird, too. I don't buy it."
"Dismissed, Chief."
The woman gaped at him, stepping back as if slapped. "What? But, sir – "
"I said dismissed. We'll rendezvous at the embassies once this investigation is over."
Williams looked at him with fire in her eyes. She looked ready to argue further, glancing at Alenko for support. As soon as the lieutenant shook his head, she let out a huff and stormed off.
He brought his hand up to run it through his hair, letting out a sigh. He had never met anyone so damned stubborn. She was infuriating, and as he watched her retreating form, he couldn't help but feel the urge to go after her demanding an explanation. He glanced over at Garrus, the turian's mandibles drooped. Apparently, Williams hadn't been as quiet as she hoped. What the hell. I didn't figure her for a damn racist. With a last regretful glance in the direction she left, he started off towards their goal. "After we're done, drinks are on me."
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"You wanted proof? There it is." Udina's arrogant voice greeted them as they entered the chamber. The ambassador gave an overly satisfied grin towards Anderson as he walked up behind him.
Oh, great. He's just as much of a douche when he's happy.
Shepard stood behind Anderson, the towering behemoth that was Wrex at his back. Tali wrung her hands beside the krogan, her helmeted head taking in the vast chamber. He fixed his eyes on the three councilors before him. If Tali's evidence hadn't convinced them, nothing would.
"This evidence is irrefutable, Ambassador. Saren will be stripped of his Spectre status and all efforts will be made to bring him in to answer for his crimes." The turian councilor pledged. Shepard let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding on to. A glance at Anderson told him his captain was just as relieved.
"I recognize the other voice on the recording," The asari councilor spoke up, "Matriarch Benezia."
Shepard's brow furrowed. All he knew of matriarchs was that they were asari who had reached their final stage of life. But from the look on the councilor's face, he doubted Saren's buddy was some wizened grandmother telling tales of her youth. "Is she dangerous?" He heard his voice reverberate through the council chamber, and was surprised by its commanding quality.
"Very. Matriarch Benezia is a powerful biotic, and she has many followers. She will make a formidable ally for Saren." The asari replied gravely. Oh, dandy.
"I'm more interested in these Reapers. What do you know of them?"
A sigh escaped the commander as the salarian councilor joined the discussion. The Reapers were going to be a tough sell, and he knew it. Only the broken images still burned in his head from the beacon made him half believe the ancient machines could be real. He watched the councilors closely as Anderson retold what little they knew: the Reapers were old, powerful, and brought total annihilation upon the Protheans.
"The geth revere them as gods. They believe Saren is the prophet for their return." Turian Jesus.
"Do we even know what the Conduit is?" The salarian sounded doubtful. Shepard didn't blame him.
"Whatever it is, Saren thinks it can bring back the Reapers." Shepard looked at each councilor. Only the asari didn't look convinced he was a madman. "We need to find out. We need to go after him. The Reapers are too dangerous to ignore."
"Listen to yourself," The turian scoffed in disbelief. "Saren wants to bring back machines that wiped out all life in the galaxy? Impossible. It has to be." He shook his head, his voice taking on the tone of a father scolding a toddler. "Where did the Reapers go? Why did they vanish? If they were real, we would have found some trace of them."
"We did. The beacon. The Protheans left it as a warning." Shepard growled out. "We were right about Saren, and you thought that was just as impossible, councilor."
"This is different." The asari cut in, taking the commanders glare off the turian councilor. She spoke soothingly, though her tone was no less belittling. "You proved Saren betrayed the Council. We have all agreed that the geth are helping him search for the Conduit, but we don't really know why."
"The Reapers are obviously a myth, Commander. Saren has fabricated them to bend the geth to his will." The salarian councilor's words were as disappointed as ever.
"You can't just put your heads in the sand!" Shepard burst out, frustrated and desperate. Behind him, Wrex gave a quiet chuckle, obviously amused at his tactlessness. He understood their reservations, but a complete denial? Their complete unwillingness to consider his words was maddening. "The Reapers wiped out the Protheans 50,000 years ago. We have to stop Saren from finding the Conduit before the same happens to us!"
"Saren is a rogue agent. He is stripped of all council privileges and on the run for his life."
"That is not good enough!" Ambassador Udina barked. "You know Saren is hiding in the Traverse. Send your fleet in!"
"A fleet cannot track one man." The salarian councilor said, regarding Udina as if he were no more than a noisy lapdog.
"The Citadel fleet could secure the entire region. Keep the geth from attacking anymore of our colonies." Despite Shepard's dislike of the insufferable man, he had to agree with Udina. What happened to bringing Saren to justice for his crimes?
"Or it could trigger a war with the Terminus Systems. We won't be dragged into a galatic confrontation over a few dozen human colonies!" The turian councilor announced angrily. Shepard clenched his fist, stepping forward. Anderson looked at him in warning, giving him a single shake of his head, but the commander was raging.
"Then send me." He spat, eyes hard. "If you can't be bothered to protect the lives of a species you call allies, then let me." I'll be damned if I let anyone die over bullshit politics.
"Shepard's right. I'm tired of this Council's anti-human bullsh- "
"Ambassador!" The asari councilor raised her hand, diplomatic as ever. "The Commander is right. We can't risk sending the fleet into the traverse, but a lone agent sent after Saren would not trigger a war." She said, looking to the turian on her right.
"No!" The turian growled, brow plates pushing together. "It's too soon. They are not ready for the responsibilities that come with joining the Spectres."
Fuck. Who said anything about being a Spectre? Shepard looked over at Anderson. The captain knew his reservations. He had never been particularly taken with leadership, he had simply fallen into the position on the Normandy after his N7 training. But being a Spectre... He was unable to stop himself from silently agreeing with the councilor. He wasn't ready for that responsibility. Anderson gave him a reassuring nod, the same determination in his eyes. He should be the one. With a sigh and an overwhelming feeling of dread, Shepard looked back to the turian.
"It's the best solution. You don't need to send your fleet, and the Ambassador gets his human Spectre." Udina was nodding rampantly. "Everybody's happy." Shepard's voice sounded distinctly not happy.
The two other councilors looked to the turian, obviously convinced themselves. With a resigned sigh, he gave in, nodding. The three lifted their hands to the consoles in front of them.
"Commander Shepard, step forward." The asari commanded, and Shepard complied. His throat constricted in panic. He was halfway aware of the gathering bodies on the balconies overlooking the main chamber, and he made an effort to stand taller.
"It is the decision of the council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel," The asari councilor continued, oblivious to the commander's discomfort.
"Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of battle; those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file."
"Spectres are a symbol, an ideal. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance." Shit. "They are the right hand of the Council, the instruments of our will."
"Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of galactic peace, our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold." Fuck.
"You are the first human Spectre, Commander. This is a great accomplishment for you and your entire species." This is a goddamn shitstorm, is what it is.
"I am honored, councilor." Shepard elected to say instead, his voice eerily calm.
"We're sending you into the Traverse after Saren. You are authorized to use any means necessary to apprehend him.
Shepard nodded. "I'll find him."
"This meeting of the council is adjourned." The asari concluded, the three councilers then signing off and walking off stage. Shepard's shoulders instantly slumped.
"Congratulations, Commander." Anderson was beaming at him, the pride in his eyes unmistakable as he came forward to shake Shepard's hand.
"We have a lot of work to do, Shepard. You're going to need a ship, a crew…" Udina muttered, obviously unimpressed with the events that just occurred. "Anderson! Come with me. I'll need your help to set this all up." He barked, and quickly walked off. Anderson heaved out a long-suffering breath.
"Take a look at the Spectre Requisitions office, they have a few things that might catch your eye." The captain's eyes twinkled. "Go celebrate, Shepard. You've earned it."
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People moved around him; talking, drinking, dancing. Flux pulled Shepard in, the three new alien members of his crew following. Alenko had murmured his apologies and something about a migraine before escaping to the Normandy.
The music blared in his ears, driving away the tension from his inauguration. Taking a hearty swig of a blue liquid the bartender had assured him was levo-friendly, he let the alcohol and the bass sink into him. He willed his mind to clear, to forget the dizzying events of the day. The hunt for evidence, the council, becoming a Spectre. And to top it off, the Normandy was now his. Anderson had found him outside the requisitions office, where he had been looking over his new rifle like a kid with a new toy. Garrus had come along after putting in his resignation, and the two were chatting animatedly about the benefits of Spectre-grade arms when the captain pulled him aside.
It was bullshit. Udina had bullied Anderson into stepping aside again, and no word from Shepard seemed to sway the man from his decision.
"It's time for you to step up, Shepard." Anderson had put simply, his voice hard. "No more messing around. Lives are depending on you." His hand had come down on the commander's shoulder. "I know you can do this, Owen. You've grown. I wouldn't have put you forward as a candidate if I had any doubts."
Shepard had grimaced, shaking his head. "Anderson, this should be you. I'll fuck it up."
"Stop throwing yourself a damn pity party and get your ass in line. You are a leader. Quit holding yourself back and be one." Anderson's stare was intense, and Shepard had felt himself fizzle out. "The Normandy is yours now, Owen. Take good care of her."
A pause, then a grim nod. "Yes, sir." A final reassuring slap on the back, and his captain was gone.
Shepard took another swig of his drink. It was sweet, almost cloyingly so, but it got the job done. Turning from the bar, he walked back to where his new crew were seated. The turian, the quarian, and the krogan – an eclectic mix. This is going to be an interesting mission.
"Shepard."
"Wrex."
He slid into a chair across from the battlemaster. He hadn't met many krogan, but he couldn't help but think how goddamn huge Wrex was every time he looked at him. Wrex had been useful in their confrontation with Fist – barreling in with a shotgun and charged biotics while Shepard and Garrus picked off thugs from opposite vantage points with their rifles. Alenko had maintained barriers and put up stasis fields to prevent foes from escaping deeper into the nightclub. The team had worked well together.
"Nice show with the Council. About time those pyjaks got something other than an ass-kissing." Wrex let out a growling chuckle, the sound deep and grinding.
"I would have loved to see that. Probably was almost as good as rubbing it in the Executor's face." Garrus lifted his drink, but paused before he drank with a question. "Wrex told me you told them to get their heads out of the sand. Is that some human expression?" His expression was quizzical, and Shepard chuckled. The action was soothing, and he was internally surprised at how at ease he felt. It had been a long time.
"It comes from an Earth bird. Ostriches." Shepard shrugged, "Never seen them myself. Apparently, when they're in danger, they put their heads in the sand to try and hide."
"Well, that's just stupid. They must be extinct." Garrus snorted. "And you people call turians birds? If that's what Earth birds are like, I'm not seeing the similarities." He shook his head, appalled. Shepard snorted.
"Yeah, I've been meaning to apologize about that – "
"Don't bother." Garrus shrugged, holding up his talons. "I've seen every form of prejudice there is in C-Sec. She'll get over it eventually." Shepard nodded gratefully, raising his glass to the turian. They both took a drink.
"I still can't believe it." Tali said, speaking up for the first time since the council meeting. "I was in the council chambers. My people haven't been allowed on the Presidium since we lost our embassy." Her voice was distinctly awestruck. Shepard's eyebrows rose in amusement. She was so innocent.
"You're not missing much." Garrus said quietly, glancing at the quarian before returning to his drink.
"How can you say that? It was amazing!" She gasped, throwing out her hands. Shepard grinned. She seemed to make up for her loss of facial expression with overly emphasized body language. The turian chuckled.
"Not having anything, Tali?" Shepard asked, noticing she wasn't drinking.
"I doubt I'd be able to drink anything here. They always say it's purified, but I'm not going to take the risk before such an important mission." She shrugged, her voice still bright. "Besides, I don't have my feeding tube. I still need to stop and get my things to load onto the Normandy."
Shepard nodded, smiling. "Where do you have them?"
Her hands came together, fingers twisting at each other. "I've been staying at a shelter in the lower wards. It should all still be there."
Garrus whipped his head towards her, scandalized. "You've been staying in the lower wards? Alone?" He gaped at her. "That's not safe!"
"Princess here can take care of herself." Wrex growled, sporting a toothy grin. "I saw her beat off some lowlife last week with the butt of that shotgun of hers while I was strolling through the markets. I would've just shot him, personally. Easier."
Shepard laughed. "I'm starting to think you didn't need our help at all, Tali." He grinned at her, and she murmured something indistinguishable, the silver glow of her eyes behind her mask falling to the floor in embarrassment. Garrus' mouth had not stopped gaping.