Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.

Author Notes: The fallout that Shepard suspects will follow Eden Prime is about to start falling out. Personalities will clash, cameos will be made, and intrigue shall be mongered.

Episode 6: Citadel Noir [Part I]

Cleaning up the mess after what happened on Eden Prime was a herculean task. The Kilimanjaro sent down a platoon of marines to secure the space port while two late-arriving platoons from the two-twelfth brigade scoured the surrounding forest for straggler geth that might have been left behind. The injured members of the two-twelfth had to be evacuated for treatment. The bodies of the casualties had to be found and counted. Jenkins' injury did not necessitate an urgent immediate evacuation, but Kaidan and Ashley went back to the Normandy with him, as he could not walk unassisted.

Getting the beacon onto the Normandy proved to be a logistical nightmare. First, the archeologists did not want marines to touch the crate; they insisted the beacon was very fragile. From the start the Citadel members of the team were not impressed with the Spectre, and then Nihlus lost all credibility when he pointed out that the beacon had survived fifty thousand years buried, so it could probably survive transport. The salarian scientist made a number of choice comments about the ignorance of military types while glaring at Nihlus.

The dock workers scoured the port for anything that could be used to transport the beacon, but the port's forklift was found to have been damaged in the fighting. It stuttered as it moved, and the scientists did not trust its lifting arms.

At that point Shepard had been a hair's breadth away from pulling rank, getting a couple of the men together to carry the crate to the waiting Kodiak, arguments be damned, when she realized they had a problem much more fundamental than proper handling. The crate was simply too long to fit inside the Kodiak. No one in their saintly wisdom told her how big the bloody beacon was to begin with. She would need to call the Normandy down, and Joker would have to squeeze a two-hundred-sixteen meter ship up against a landing platform designed for much smaller craft, and hold it steady to boot. Fortunately at that time the Eighth Fleet's SSV New York arrived, carrying a platoon from the Alliance Corps of Engineers. The gear-heads descended on the Spaceport to assess the damage, and one of them fixed the forklift's damaged wiring.

After that, Shepard ordered the Normandy to come down. It was a tense moment as the forklift bearing the beacon made the precarious transition from the dock platform to the faintly shifting Normandy ramp. Joker was unable to touch down due to the platform's size, so half of the Normandy still hung over the edge, with only trees below. When it was all said and done Shepard mentally promised to spoil Joker even more rotten. The pilot displayed unbelievable control keeping the swaying to an absolute minimum.

With the drama out of the way, the dig site staff went back to their shelters, and they could return to their ship. The Citadel staff was assigned to follow the crate, so they were hitching a ride with them. Shepard told Kaidan to show them the observation lounges on deck three, and keep them there under watch. The lieutenant nodded and made his best effort to be a gracious host in her place.

It was while standing in her shuttle bay as the ramp closed, that she noticed they gained an extra Kodiak while she was away. The Normandy's two shuttles were still in their overhead gantry cradles, but there was a third on the deck below the one closest to the ramp. She did not need to ask EDI who their guest was. She returned her weapons to the gun cage and locked it up; there would be no rest for her yet.

Freed from the restrictive bulk of ceramic plates and undersuit, Shepard made her way to deck three. She rounded the elevator and would have gone straight to the medbay had it not been for the fact that Jenkins was eating at the mess table, a set of crutches resting against the side, his foot once again in proper alignment, held in place by a rigid support brace. Today's special seemed to be spaghetti and meatballs.

"Commander!" he called.

"Hey. You alright, Richard?" Shepard wondered.

"I'm great! Give me a week and I'll be good as new!" He stuck up a thumb for emphasis.

"He's high on pain killers and regen stims right now," Kaidan offered, fork-full of spaghetti halfway to his mouth.

That explained the corporal's larger plate portion as well. "Enjoy yourself. I am glad you're alright."

Jenkins nodded like a bobble-head.

Shepard smiled it was a giant weight off her shoulders. Almost losing one of her own, especially the youngest, made her feel guilty. It made her wonder if she had played too conservative and overly-cautious. She had only used explosives when no other option remained. The black geth's shields took ridiculous amounts of bullets without failing; explosives within the shield envelope had been the only way. She just wished she had done it sooner. That sort of thinking was a mind-killing road-trip, she knew that, but it was a very familiar commute as well. "And you, Kaidan?" she asked.

Kaidan looked up, "I'm fine, Commander, just the usual headache. I took my medicine."

Shepard nodded, "I'm glad." She could not imagine how it was living with some shade of a migraine each time he used his biotics at any intensity past a flicker. Yet she had seen the bright periwinkle flare when he tried to catch the crate, and again when he moved it out of the way and dispersed the grain to reach Jenkins and the marine trapped underneath.

"Take a break, Commander. Join us maybe? Matthews said the meatballs are his grandmother's recipe, they're good, even with the usual meat we get."

"Thanks, but I still have things to do. How about a rain check?"

"Of course, but I'll hold you to that," he smiled and resumed eating.

Shepard returned the smile, but then her eyes drifted to the XO's cabin door, wondering if Nihlus was there, but if he was, he was entitled to rest, debriefing could wait. She should probably go and find their other guest. With that she turned back to the elevator and took it up to the CIC.

The elevator made a slow ascent, but it was only one deck, hardly time enough to ponder anything profound. When the door opened it was hard to miss that the CIC shift crew was quiet. Normally they exchanged chit-chat liberally, but this time it was wholly absent. It only confirmed for Shepard that their guest made them straighten their uniforms and backs collectively. She made a sharp left to the OD and as soon as the door opened, Shepard knew she had been right.

Seated on her couch under the viewports, with a cup of tea in her hand and a tea towel draped over her lap was Captain Hannah Shepard.

"Ah, there you are. I was wondering if I needed to ask EDI to tell you I'm here." Hannah smiled.

Shepard moved deeper into the room. "The Council's supervisory team is aboard for the trip back; please don't talk to EDI on deck three where they are."

"Of course. She suggested I wait for you here. I'm a little envious."

"Thank you, Captain Shepard." EDI chimed in.

"Are you alright, Jocelyn?" Hannah went on.

Shepard sighed and sat down on the couch, "Yes. Just tired. It was a hellish day. Too many people died over a scrap of technology. Almost lost Jenkins too."

"Ah yes, the corporal. I saw your marines lead him to the medbay. He's got surprising mental fortitude, not a whimper the whole way. I assume you went to check up on him first?"

"Yes." Shepard replied. Now she knew how long her mother had been aboard, must have been something she got out of Joker. Shepard thought of adding 'have a word with traitorous pilot' to her to-do list, but then decided not to. Joker had earned a reprieve. Even if he did not, he would probably have enjoyed being chewed out, before claiming Hannah pulled rank, with a smile on his face. After that he would also know that her relationship with her mother had complications.

"That's good. I wanted to see how you were holding up, all considering. All this added pressure to make Spectre... then this. You gave everyone quite a fright. Fortunately the Kilimanjaro was near a relay when Steven called."

"Fortunate indeed. Kili's poor engineers did not have to scramble to pull a Carpathia."

"Yes," Hannah smiled. "Well onto business then-"

The OD's door swished open loudly, "Shepard we-"

Shepard looked up sharply. Of all the rotten timings, Nihlus had to choose now. She would have wanted to keep her mother from meeting him. Perhaps a vain hope, but she had reasons. He was still in his armor, though she noticed that the grain dust was gone.

"My apologies, Commander. I was not aware you were occupied with other matters." His eyes flicked between them.

"It's nothing classified." Shepard replied as she watched his most professional attitude slam down in place with the tell-tale straightening of his posture even as he stepped deeper into the room and the door swished shut behind him. "This is Captain Hannah Shepard, SSV Kilimanjaro," She introduced. Nihlus gave her mother a curt nod of his head. Shepard went on as if the silence settling in the room was not becoming loaded. "This is of course Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik."

"A pleasure. And here I thought I'd have to ask. Well I won't lie; I was interested in meeting the one to give my daughter a Spectre candidacy." Hannah said.

Her mother's tone was benign, her words outright polite, but Shepard knew that underneath it all was a very real second meaning. By the appraising look her mother gave Nihlus, Shepard knew that seated before the Spectre was Hannah Shepard the mother bear.

"Likewise, Captain." Nihlus said, the flanging effect of his voice deepening into a low rumble, as he moved to stand on Shepard's right.

Whether that meant he picked up on the subtext Shepard could not tell. She could not look up to see his expression without being too overt. She spared her mother a warning look that she hoped Nihlus would not catch.

"Pleasantries aside, shall we return to business?" Hannah began as she set her tea towel on the coffee table next to her now empty cup. "As I was saying, the Kilimanjaro will escort the Normandy to the Citadel. The New York can handle the situation planet-side."

Shepard blinked, and suddenly it dawned on her that there was a reason why Hannah was on board, as well as her timing. The Kilimanjaro deployed her marines, she would not be able to pick them up rapidly, but now the Normandy could not run off with the Kilimanjaro's captain aboard. Now Shepard had something to tell Joker, he would want to know that he had been played.

"An escort is unnecessary. I doubt there is an enemy flotilla waiting for us at the relay. If there was, EDI would know." Shepard replied, hoping against hope that her mother would abandon this plan. Even if there was an enemy flotilla at the relay, Joker could run it. The Normandy's Tantalus drive allowed it to approach the relay without using heat-emitting thrusters, essentially still rigged silent. They could fire up the main FTL drive at the last possible moment. An escort of Kilimanjaro's size would just broadcast their presence. Her mother had to know that, right?

Hannah's omni-tool lit up; she glanced down at it, eyes quickly scanning the incoming message. "By what I was told, though I have not been read into the full details, the Normandy is transporting a very important artifact. I am here as a representative of the Alliance. In light of recent events it is only proper for us to provide additional resources to ensure the object's safe transport to the Citadel."

Shepard sighed, if that was how her mother wanted to play her cards, she could do nothing against her. If she tried, her mother would pull rank. As far as reasons went, this was an official sounding excuse, a technicality, but it was enough. About the only one there who could do something about this was Nihlus. It baffled her why he did not assert his Spectre status and veto the whole thing. Just what was going on in his head? Did he not see the complications this could create?

"My marines are back aboard the Kilimanjaro. We can depart when the Normandy is ready." Hannah added with a tone of amiable finality that indicated she thought the matter settled. "Your pilot is in communication with my XO, you only need to let him know. Now I suppose Spectre Kryik has come here with something important to discuss. I shall be on the crew deck." With that said she got up from her seat, tugged down her uniform jacket, spared Shepard one last glance, and turned away.

Shepard watched her go with a sense of trepidation, perfectly aware of the silent Spectre next to her. In her perfect galaxy she would have loved to prevent Nihlus finding out who saved their necks down there. In the back of her mind she feared that her mother's antics might reflect badly on her, no matter what excuse she had. Shepard did not believe Admiral Hackett would order the Kilimanjaro to escort the Normandy, but her mother would not get reprimanded either.

The Alliance was one thing; people knew Hannah's tendencies. To most she was eccentric and overprotective. She also had the sort of service record that earned her a pithy nickname and the right to do as she pleased. But Spectres were a whole other thing. Shepard doubted Nihlus knew the details.

There was even a possibility that Nihlus knowing might do more harm than good. Her mother had served as a First Lieutenant aboard the Everest, flagship of the Second Fleet under Admiral Kastanie Drescher during the First Contact War. She was there when they broke the blockade of Shanxi. As the ship's chief gunner, her mother had been at the controls of the Everest's main mass accelerator cannon during the battle, and she had done the calculations and pressed the button that scored a one in a million core hit on the blockading fleet's flagship.

"Is there something wrong?" Shepard wondered, turning to the turian, affecting her best poker face.

"What?"

"You came in at an awful rush." She explained as she began to gather the tea things.

"Right. We have things to discuss."

Shepard supposed they did, a debriefing and a straightening of details would not wait any longer. Eden Prime had gone to the dogs; she supposed the load fell on to the both of them to set it as straight as they could. She was not looking forward to it.

The whole return trip the Citadel had Shepard up to her eyeballs in details and things that she had to do, with Nihlus only compounding the load. Patterns bred habits, and she had already gotten used to him letting her do things her way. Now that he took control, he was as exacting as a slave-driver. Apparently this situation was a big deal; he wanted it handled right, and that meant his way. The suddenness of his attitude change almost gave her whiplash.

He had her put a rush on writing a report to the Council, her side of the story to go along with his. On top of that, he wanted her present when he met with them, to make formal introductions. Shepard would have actually bought that excuse had he not proceeded to ask questions about some of the decisions she made.

He could grin roguishly, make small talk, and he probably thought he was being subtle, but she was versed in lies by omission, half-truths, and vague hints. She also had a mother whose words and actions always concealed something in the subtext. He was not asking for his benefit, Shepard would bet he expected the Council to ask those same questions.

She managed to finish the report in time to make a transmission, and after that she even finished her report to Admiral Hackett. Good thing too, since while doing it she realized that with Jenkins out for a week with a mending ankle she had a logistical conundrum. Fact was, unlike her mother who had whole platoons of marines to deploy, Shepard had a tenth of one platoon. If she was going to be pulling tough jobs like Eden Prime on a small-cell spec-ops basis, she needed a bigger team, a wider array of skill. She also could not expect her marines to do Spectre-caliber jobs involving murderous robots day in and day out without stress getting to them. She needed to discuss the matter with the admiral.

When they made approach on the Citadel, the Kilimanjaro remained outside the ward arms. The Citadel did not have a cradle big enough for a ship as large as the Kilimanjaro. At one kilometer long, the Kilimanjaro was one forty-fourth the length of the Ward arms, and almost one thirteenth the diameter of the station in its open configuration. Alliance ships her size had a flotilla of runabout shuttles to ply distances.

The Normandy got priority docking, nose-bleed close to the Presidium, due to Nihlus' special clearances, and Shepard could not be happier for it. The scientists aboard were eager to get the Prothean beacon into a secure vault, and Shepard was eager to have them off her ship.

The ship was barely locked down with docking clamps when Nihlus' omni-tool lit up with a message from the council's Chief Secretary, essentially a summons. Thus an hour after docking Shepard was in her blue officer's uniform and down at the airlock. It was hard to miss the contingent of C-sec in addition to the marines, effectively doubling the dock security. There were quite a few turians among this detachment, and it made Shepard nervous. She just hoped that the Alliance jarheads did not start an incident over something as petty as someone looking in the wrong place. She did not want a mess on her dock; someone would point the finger and blame her just for good measure.

When she caught up to Nihlus, he had one of the Skycabs open and waiting. He was also armed, which made her feel exposed in comparison. Of course coming in her armor had been out of the question.

"Any last minute advice, coach?" She asked as she slipped into the front passenger seat.

"Keep your details consistent," he replied as he input commands to the VI driver. A second later the doors slid shut and the cab took off.

Shepard hummed; that was his business tone, deeper, and much cooler than the normal teasing lilt. If he was keeping to his professional persona around her, then something made him wary. That only set her even more on edge.

The scenery whizzed past them as the Skycab climbed into the high-speed lanes heading toward the Presidium entrance tunnel. Soon enough they were inside, with walls flashing past them at dizzyingly speed. Her mind churned through the possibilities, but one thing was clear. Unless the Council was out for her blood from the get go, there was just no reason she should expect trouble.

By the time the Skycab exited the transit tunnel onto the presidium proper, Shepard wrangled her poker face into place. The car finally slowed down and dropped altitude, turning on the spot to slowly ease itself down onto a small landing pad by a kiosk situated right next to the tower's main elevator. Barely a second after touching down the cab's doors hissed up. Shepard climbed out and tugged down on her uniform jacket before checking on the toggles that held it shut. When Nihlus moved ahead of her, she fell in step. They waited for the elevator in absolute silence, and it lingered the whole long ride up. She was officially nervous.

The doors finally opened and Shepard stepped out into the narthex, only giving her surroundings a cursory glance as they walked through, up the first staircase and into the nave. The top of the tower was the same grey of the rest of the Presidium, but the décor was trying to make a station feel more like a planet, complete with large planter boxes that contained actual trees. Shepard saw the unmistakable pink blossoms of a Japanese cherry tree in one, and nearby a broad-leafed specimen currently being misted. The fake rain-mist hinted it should have been in a jungle, probably Sur'Kesh. These seemed to have been transplants from a number of Council Space planets.

There were people milling about the nave, but no one paid them any sort of lingering attention. Some were busy on their communicators and omni-tools, others in private conversation. The galleries leading to the side-offices were empty and quiet. Nihlus did not stop; he went right up, ascending the second set of stairs that led toward the Council apse. Shepard hung back a good two steps.

The wonder of politicians was that they all carried themselves with the gravitas they deemed appropriate, and it was the same regardless of what species they were. Shepard could practically see it radiating from the councilors as soon as she laid her eyes on them. They stood in a loose cluster, discussing something in tones so low that she could barely hear, let alone hope for her translator to pick up.

Ambassador Udina was there, which did not surprise her at all. He turned when they approached the center platform, and just the speed with which his eyes landed on her reminded her that the Council was not her only problem right now, perhaps not even the main one.

Nihlus had given her the basics of who is who; he warned her that of the three councilors she had to watch out for Valern, the Salarian councilor, when it came to any argument of reasoning. He could easily pick things apart if he fancied the need for it. Shepard did not say it, but she thought she might have more of an issue with Sparatus, the Turian councilor, who according to Nihlus was conservative and traditional. To her that meant he was a military man and probably some shade of not a fan of humanity. About the only one Shepard though might not be out for her head from the get-go was Tevos, the Asari councilor. Nihlus said she was rarely overt in confronting things, and tended to mediate between the other two when they clashed. Tevos noticed them first, stepping back from the huddle.

"Agent Kryik," she greeted with a faint smile, though perhaps it was less friendly and more simply pleased. She looked rather stately in her white and red long-sleeved, high-collared maxi-dress which brought out the electric violet hue of her skin.

"Councilors," Nihlus acknowledged.

"And Commander Shepard, of course." Tevos shifted her gaze.

Shepard slipped into a comfortable parade rest, "Councilors," she echoed. "The Normandy has returned, the package is safely aboard along with a two-member science team assigned to it, as per request." Well it was more of an order, but she did not want to use the word.

"Thank you, Commander." Tevos replied.

"That brings us to the topic of the Geth attack on Eden Prime," Udina stepped in before any of them could draw a breath. "Thirteen marines, three scientists, and four dock workers were killed." Udina stated.

Shepard knew a premeditated attack when she saw one. She genuinely wished he did not use her as a springboard. Truthfully she trusted Udina only as far as she could throw him, and since she was not a biotic, that was not far. Perhaps she was petty, but she did not want to benefit him.

"An unfortunate circumstance, Ambassador." Tevos replied.

"We have a right to know what happened! They knew of the artifact!"

"A full C-sec investigation into the matter has been launched." Valern stepped in. His dark eyes locked on Udina. By dint of the cranial horns Valern was probably the tallest of the three, clad in very dark blue, nearly black hooded robe-like outfit with a central panel of red trimmed with gold. The whole ensemble revealed only his granite-grey face.

"All further discussions will be held when the investigation is complete." Sparatus added.

Shepard knew a political stonewall when she saw one, and this one was ten meters up, another meter thick, and topped with electrified barbwire. She could practically see Udina's blood pressure climb. Without a doubt there was a leak somewhere, as there was no other way to get out. If Nihlus was right and few people knew about the beacon then the suspect list was not terribly long. Finally, as the Council refused to deal with Udina as the representative of the victim, it was obvious that they had Alliance suspects as well. The Council would stall until they had all the cards. Udina would only get a hernia if he kept pressing now.

"Rest assured, Ambassador, we want to know what happened as much as you do," Tevos added calmly.

Udina did not look convinced. Shepard did not blame him. That was such a typical platitude.

"I believe that concludes this topic," Sparatus said.

Udina bristled at that less-than-covert dismissal.

Shepard bit back a grin, she would give the Sparatus props for efficiency. She glanced at Nihlus, only to realize that while he was standing there, still as a pillar, with his arms at his sides, his eyes were on her and not on the Council. She raised an eyebrow, as if to ask "what?" which caused his mandibles to give just a faint little twitch. Suddenly it was obvious that the Spectre was amused, and trying his best not to show it.

Movement drew her attention. Udina turned and spared her a glare so cold it could have frozen her blood, had she not been on the receiving end of such looks for years. Shepard kept her poker face perfectly flat, which seemed to irk Udina further. As he walked past her, she listened for his footsteps to fade.

All the while she could not help but agree with Nihlus' description of Sparatus. The Councilor's voice and posture both carried rigidity and severity. All the same his midnight blue, burgundy, and white trimmed tunic outfit was not nearly as military as she would have expected. It looked to have been carefully chosen to flatter his chocolate colored plates and white colonial markings.

"Agent Kryik, Commander," Tevos began, snapping Shepard out of her thoughts.

"We read your report, Commander, however… I do have a question regarding the dreadnought that arrived as your backup." Sparatus launched.

There we go, she thought; grill Shepard time. This was what Nihlus expected and prepared her for. She was a Spectre prospect; this would probably be part of her evaluation. The Council would want to know that her mind had no screws loose and rattling.

"While your decision to relay the distress call was tactically sound, given the limited fighting force on board your ship, is it standard procedure to call in a dreadnought?"

"Saying that I called in a dreadnought implies I have the authority to do so, which I do not. I merely relayed the distress call to the attention of my commanding officer, Admiral Steven Hackett. I assume the Kilimanjaro just happened to be in proximity to a relay. It is also capable of rapid response to major ground attacks as well as providing orbital support."

"So you did not request it because its commanding officer is your relative?"

There was the crux of the matter then. Shepard suddenly wished that the Admiral had sent a whole flotilla, because that would have looked a lot less damning than this. The Council would want to know that she did not rely on her mother whenever the going got tough. "No, sir. As I've already said, the decision of ship deployment is not within my rank privilege."

"Do the responders know the contents of the crate you were transporting?" Valern wondered.

"No, sir. It was referred to as a 'package' throughout. The only ones who do know the contents are Spectre Kryik, me, the three marines under my command, the survivors of the third platoon of the two-twelfth brigade, Eden Prime garrison, the dock workers, and the scientists. The compromise happened when the black geth unit we encountered referred to the object by name while making its demands. Neither the marines dispatched by the Kilimanjaro nor the Alliance engineers of the SSV New York were told. By then Spectre Kryik and I ensured the survivors were ordered to maintain secrecy."

"Is this true, Agent Kryik?" Valern asked.

"Every word." Nihlus replied.

Shepard was suddenly glad that Nihlus had quizzed her. Going over the details with him had done wonders to order her thinking. Perhaps hashing over every little detail was redundant, much of it was in her report, but it made it clear that she could cover her bases.

"Very well. This of course does not explain how it got out," Tevos said.

"The leak did not come from the Normandy."

"Stop right there, Agent Kryik." Sparatus interrupted.

Out of the corner of her eye Shepard noted that Nihlus did not even twitch. Right then Sparatus' practically broadcast his annoyance, and Valern was glaring, but Tevos was looking right at her instead. Shepard maintained parade rest, eyes locked forward, a picture of Alliance discipline. If Tevos thought she would catch Shepard sweating bullets, she better not hold her breath. The only source of worry for Shepard right then was the possibility of C-sec digging too deep and finding EDI.

Then there was the question of what Nihlus meant to achieve with his comment. He must have known he would get rebuffed, so why go there? On the surface it might come off as him favoring a would-be-protégé, perhaps to be expected, but there was more to it. She could only assume he was making sure the Council showed their suspicion of an Alliance leak.

"Commander, we expect the Normandy to remain on the Citadel for a few days, but you are free to go," Tevos announced.

"Thank you, Councilors." Shepard replied automatically. She did not need Nihlus to force the Council to show their hand. Even if they had been accommodating with Udina, the request that the Normandy stay put for a few days would have been enough of a tell-tale clue.

Still, she got an altogether rather polite dismissal, more than what Udina got. In the balance of things, it looked like she was not yet neck deep in the mud. She snapped to attention, turned, and walked away. As she made her way back toward the stairs she heard a set of heavy boot-falls behind her, but did not pause, and it was only by the dint of his longer legs and strides that Nihlus caught up with her.

"It looks like you are on their suspect list."

Shepard looked out over the tower nave before she descended the stairs slowly. "I inferred that the suspect list included Alliance names the moment Udina received that rather… brusque brush-off. It's given that I'd be on it too." After all, every person who knew about the beacon leading up to the attack was a potential leak. If C-sec was worth their salt, they would investigate literally everyone.

"You are not bothered."

"Should I be?" she looked up, meeting his gaze. "I didn't leak."

"I know you did not leak."

Shepard raised an eyebrow.

"When did I tell you about the beacon?" he asked.

"Nine hours before we got the distress call."

The elevator that would take them back to the Presidium was ahead. Nihlus hummed a quiet sort of assent that did not require a translator to understand. Shepard tipped her head and watched him, had Nihlus just told her what to say to the investigators? She knew better than to ask, as the Presidium Tower was hardly the place collusion of any sort. There was no telling who had eyes and ears on them. Call her paranoid, but she would not have even broached the topic here to begin with. Then again, maybe she was over-thinking, and broaching it here was entirely the point. Someone with nothing to hide would not think in terms of secrecy. She had no way of knowing what Nihlus was thinking right then.

"Fortunately C-sec will not take long to come looking for you," he said after a long silence.

"Why?" Shepard wondered as she stopped in front of elevator and tapped the call button.

"You are a Spectre candidate. This is the best opportunity they will have to try and prove you are corrupt," he replied with a flick of his mandibles. "The Spectres and C-sec have a long, proud tradition of rivalry."

Shepard hummed. She had taken a side, and so he was helping partly because he did not want C-sec to have their way. Although, somehow Shepard doubted C-sec would go as far as to ruin a candidate's name out of spite alone.

"When all of this is over, what do you say to drinks? I think we deserve it."

Shepard turned to look at him and shook her head. "With my track record, there will not be a 'when all of this is over'. There's always something."

The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, the door swished open.

"You are never done with duties?" Nihlus asked without breaking pace.

Shepard chuckled, "Ask not whether I am ever done with duties; ask if they are ever done with me." With that said she turned to the open elevator door. A jolt of surprise shot through her as she realized the cabin was not empty. Standing before her was a turian is white armor detailed in black. She sidestepped to let him pass even as she looked up, briefly meeting a pair of bright silver eyes set against almost white plates and skin. The lack of even a hint of contrast was as unique about him as the long zygomatic plate extensions that arced back toward his fringe.

"Saren," Nihlus greeted, audibly surprised.

"Nihlus," he replied as he brushed past her.

Shepard tipped her head to the side and automatically stuck her arm into the door, preventing the elevator from closing. She caught Nihlus' gaze and quirked an eyebrow. He did not seem to notice her look as his eyes darted between them. Then, Shepard could have sworn she saw his mandibles draw up tighter to his jaw for a split second. She looked to the other Spectre, only to meet a disconcerting silver stare. He was looking at her like she was a criminal. Really, what was today, glare-at-Shepard day?

"Saren, this is Commander Shepard, Spectre candidate." Nihlus introduced. "Shepard, this is Saren Arterius, the longest serving active Spectre in the corps."

The name rang a bell somewhere in the back of her mind but she could not place her finger on it. Nevertheless, despite everything she supposed that some respect was due. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Spectre Arterius," she said calmly.

"What is it that Humans say, the pleasure is all yours?"

Shepard blinked, momentarily surprised. The cold indifference in his eyes mixed with the haughty tone hinted that he did not get the idiom accidently wrong, he reversed it intentionally. "Yes, so it would seem."

She looked past him at Nihlus; he was watching her with that piercing evaluation stare of his. Not that she expected him to come to her defense, she did not that, but at least she knew that he was not clueless. "Well, if you excuse me, I've got important business to attend to." There was an insinuation in her words. She had better things to do than be insulted to her face. She turned, stepped into the elevator, and tapped the console for the Tower's base level.

She was rewarded with a barely audible hum in a register decidedly different from Nihlus' timbre. A moment later the doors begun to close, she heard footsteps, and they opened again with a ding. Shepard was acutely aware of a presence behind her, but she chose to remain quiet. Finally, the doors closed and the elevator began to move.

"Shepard?" Nihlus wondered.

She finally turned around and looked up to meet the Spectre's gaze. He was scrutinizing her again, the angle of his head combined with the lighting cast shadows on his plates. But his deep-set eyes somehow appeared even brighter than normal. It was an almost ominous effect. "Is something wrong?" she wondered.

"No, nothing." He replied, quietly now, and looked away.

From what Nihlus said, Shepard thought she could expect a call from C-sec any moment, and yet her day ended up tiring simply due to an overload of things to do. She managed to return to the Normandy, oversee the transfer of the beacon into the hands of a Council-assigned team of scientists and guards, finish the routine paperwork, and even assign leave shifts. All of it was done without being accosted by any officers in blue. It was very uncomfortable to be ready for bad news, and not have it come, despite knowing that it must inevitably come. Her whole routine seemed somehow off.

When the summons did not come to report somewhere bright and early Citadel time the next morning, Shepard decided to go on with her life. Thus she had her breakfast; Matthews made scrambled eggs because she asked. Then an hour after breakfast she was down in the shuttle bay in her snug grey sweatpants, sport bra crop-top fooler, and running shoes on the treadmill to do her cardio. The shuttle bay was deserted, just her and the hum of the treadmill's motors. About forty minutes later she had her run, and switched to the more intensive session, hands and feet bound as she pounded reps into the heavy weight bag.

It was in another half an hour, when she was half way through her rapid-speed sets, when she heard a scratch from the intercom. "Ugh... Commander?" Joker's voice was full of wariness.

"What is it?" Shepard asked in between punches.

"There are two C-sec investigators outside. I think they want to talk to you."

Shepard stopped and let her arms drop to her sides. "Have someone direct them to the shuttle bay, but not through the ship," she replied.

"Figured you'd say that." Joker replied. "Have fun, Commander."

"Yes, about as much fun as bullet removal without anesthesia," Shepard replied blandly.

"Ouch. Experience?" Joker wondered.

"Twice. I'll talk to you later, Joker."

"Roger that." He replied.

Shepard moved to the bench, grabbed her cooling towel, and slung it around her neck. She had time enough to undo her foot wraps and slip on her running shoes when she saw two figures at the base of the shuttle bay's lowered ramp. Two unmistakably turian figures at that. Another thing she should have expected. C-sec may have accepted humans into their ranks, at nearly every level, but this was still a thorny issue. The people in charge would not let a human detective investigate this. They had plenty of impartial Turian detectives to send onto an Alliance ship to rattle some trees.

She made her way toward the ramp, water bottle in hand. This allowed her to inspect the two investigators. Both wore C-sec regulation blue and black armor. The turian on the left was of a relatively uniform stone-white coloration with bright lime-green eyes and lines of sky blue across his chin and mandibles. His partner was more ash-grey, with tan-tinted skin, bright blue eyes, and royal blue markings across his cheeks, nose, and mandibles. He also wore a visor, which automatically told Shepard whom to watch out for. Visors could do the same job as a helmet HUD, picking up life signs, and in the hands of someone clever, function as a lie detector.

When the officers began to walk up the ramp, two of the marines moved to block them. Shepard reacted instantly, "Corporals, let the officers pass! This is an authorized visit."

"Yes, ma'am!" the marines stepped aside.

The two officers did not spare the marines any more attention as they came up. Shepard took a long drink from her bottle and affected her best air of nonchalance.

"Commander Shepard?" The officer on the right began.

"Indeed."

"Detective Garrus Vakarian. This is Detective Decian Chellik. We are investigating the events leading up to what happened on Eden Prime. May we talk?"

"Yes, of course. Come on in." She motioned for them to follow her as she led the way into the depth of the shuttle bay, away from the prying ears of the marines guarding the ship. "What can I do for you, detectives?" Maybe that was a given question, she knew what they wanted, but she also knew that law enforcement officers did not like people who knew too much.

"We looked at the report you submitted to the Council," Chellik began a few steps out. "There were a few questions we wanted to ask."

Shepard had a few ideas about what sort of questions those were, the crux of the matter was that they were mixed with other sensitive things, which created a few natural problems that she would have to resolve if she was to cooperate.

"How many of your crew knew about the contents of the crate?" Vakarian asked.

Shepard stopped and glanced back. "That's in my report. Three, but strictly-speaking four. Spectre Kryik and the three marines who went on the mission under my command."

"Of course. We did not count the Spectre as a member of your crew. When did you tell your marines about the package?" he went on.

Nihlus had known the conversation would go this way. Chronology was a concern in such matters. "Literally within the hour before we received a distress call from Eden Prime," Shepard replied.

"And when were you apprised to the existence of the beacon?" Chellik asked.

"Eight hours before that. I decided to brief the marines just before we deployed. My rationale was that it was to be a routine mission, a basic secure, transfer, and transport job. It was sensitive, yes, but hardly requiring long tactical assessments and pre-planning meetings. It should not have required the drawing of weapons, let alone what it ended up being."

"And what were you doing for those eight hours?"

"Sleeping." Shepard replied without a pause. Really, what did they think she was doing on a ship in transit? "This ship operates on Terran Standard; our transit to Eden Prime coincided with our night cycle." She did not know how Nihlus spent his eight hours, but she assumed he slept some part of it. Let the detectives wrangle the details out of him on their own.

"We need access to the Normandy's communication logs to confirm things," Vakarian added.

There we go, Shepard thought. They were going to dig deeper than she would have liked. "I can have them ready for you in ten minutes," she said.

The elevator opened behind them and she heard a by-now familiar set of footsteps, heavier than any human and with a slightly different pitch. "Am I interrupting?"

Shepard glanced back and spotted Nihlus making his approach, his hands behind his back. She was surprised that he was out of his armor, opting for a black and silver tunic outfit, which did a number to slim his frame and remove some of the intimidation factor. He also moved with a sort of strut that said he was at home. As he drew nearer, she realized that under the nonchalance was something else, his eyes were locked on the officers like a predator might watch prey.

"Not at all, Nihlus. These officers are here about the leak."

"Finally."

With one word Nihlus shifted from aloof to antagonizing the detectives to their face; suddenly Shepard could not help but wonder if there was something not quite right with his head. Sure he had some degree of immunity, but she did not.

"Right, communication logs, I should go get those," she did not want to be in the same room if he decided to start something with C-sec, more deniability that way. If that made her a coward then she was a coward. She was not even going to try and mediate it, because it would only look worse.

"No need, I have them right here," Nihlus brought his hand from behind his back, brandishing an optical storage disk. "I expected C-sec to come for these, so I had the communications officer prepare them." He explained.

Shepard glared while the detectives were behind her and unable to see it. What gave him the idea that he could order EDI to do anything? Better yet, why did EDI even listen to him? He just about boxed her into a corner as well, as she could not yank the OSD from his hand. If it contained anything more than communication logs or if EDI had not cleaned them up to conceal herself… no, she would have to trust EDI. The fact that Nihlus had the data at all meant he had asked for it. If he had gone accessing it on his own EDI would have shut him out.

When she glanced back at the detectives she noticed both had their eyes locked on the Spectre, though he did not seem to be bothered at all as he stepped past her and handed Chellik the OSD.

"You will not find anything compromising to this ship or its crew in those logs." Nihlus announced in all seriousness.

"That is for us to ascertain. If we find out you are covering for something, Kryik-" The other detective snapped, glaring at the Spectre.

"Careful, it sounds like you suspect me already." Nihlus' tone dripped with a sort of saccharine venom.

"Vakarian, do not compromise this." Chellik warned.

"Like mentor, like protégé." Vakarian said, ignoring his partner's warning tone.

Nihlus' mandibles widened into a grin, "if you cannot see the difference already, my opinion of C-sec's competence needs adjustment. I was overrating."

Shepard honestly did not know what to do right now. This was officially past mere antagonism and straight into the territory of first salvos fired, and she was right in the middle of no-man's land.

She watched as Chellik tucked the OSD into an evidence sleeve and then into a compartment in his armor. Shepard could not shake the fear that the drive contained more than just communication logs. Would Nihlus blow the whistle now? She knew better than to show any sign of nervousness, even if both detectives seemed distracted. Nihlus had folded his arms over his chest and was still glaring down Vakarian.

"I only knew about the beacon a two hours before I told the Commander. The window for either of us to have leaked anything is small." Nihlus added.

"We appreciate your cooperation," Chellik said. "Commander, we should be done with these in a few hours. If we have any more questions can we count on your cooperation?"

"The Normandy will still be here, detectives."

"Thank you."

Vakarian gave Nihlus one last withering look, and then turned to follow his partner toward the ramp. Shepard watched them go, playing with the towel slung around her neck. Knowing Turian hearing, she would not risk saying a word to Nihlus before she was a hundred percent sure the detectives were out of earshot.

"I know what you are going to say," Nihlus said as soon as the detectives stepped off the ramp.

"You seem to know a lot." Shepard replied as she turned and approached her discarded wraps. Did she want to finish her reps? Taking her anger out on the punching bag would be better than taking it out on Nihlus. She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Still, she knew that while it would be preferable to take this out on the punching bag, it would not work in the long run. Enough was enough; Nihlus thought he had the run of her ship. She turned around and looked him right in the eye.

"Shepard…"

"The communication logs were not yours to access."

"And I did not access them," Nihlus replied. "I provided EDI with an OSD and asked her to create a copy within a timeframe, from the time I received the Council's transmission up to now."

Shepard blinked, "EDI?"

"He is truthful, Commander. I was provided with an optical storage disk and I created a copy of the logs within the requested time-frame. Spectre Kryik kept the device on his person for forty three minutes. In that time I observed no attempts to access or modify its contents. Furthermore, my initial scan of the drive revealed no hidden data or messages which might compromise the Normandy, the crew, or commanding officer. Had there been such hidden material, I would have refused to comply with the request and notified you immediately."

"See?" Nihlus said, grinning.

"Furthermore," EDI went on, "I masked my existence in the logs."

Shepard blinked, stunned. Nihlus had actually thought of all the obvious angles. "And should they want to talk to the communications officer?" she asked.

"That is the part where I might have overstepped my bounds."

Only then? Why so humble, Nihlus? Shepard wondered.

"Spectre Kryik requested that I ask Staff Lieutenant Alenko to fill in the role."

"And?" Shepard asked. How far did he organize this conspiracy behind her back?

"Staff Lieutenant Alenko agreed to play the role, should it be required."

"Harmless subterfuge." Nihlus finished. "You and I both know there is nothing inherently incriminating in those logs. We did not leak."

If that was harmless subterfuge, Shepard did not want to know what constituted harmful in his books. Nihlus' was playing games with people, again, and behind her back at that. She sighed and tugged on the towel around her neck. Was there something she could do about it now? No. The sly bastard pulled a fast one on her as much as he pulled it on the detectives. She could not very well go off running after the detectives to get the OSD back. How would she explain that? "Alright, and the whole pissing contest with C-sec?"

"Pissing contest?" Nihlus wondered.

"I saw two males provoke each other, and then almost come to blows. I call it as I see it."

"Humans and your… colorful metaphors."

"Turians and your… evasion of questions."

"Alright," he chuckled. "I told you Spectres and C-sec have a rivalry, right? I could not let them think I was cooperating too freely. I have a reputation."

Shepard hummed, he had a reputation huh? He antagonized two detectives just for the heck of it? What was it that the detective slung at him? She was sure it meant to be an insult, but it was an awfully specific one. Shepard wondered, just who had mentored Nihlus? For that matter she realized there were lots of things she did not know about him. The gulf there was yet to be bridged, and now she knew that it spanned some very murky water. Did she even want to invest in a bridge?

"You went above my head on this. The Normandy is my ship, Nihlus. I understand that you thought you were helping, but… if I'm going to be a Spectre I need to be able to dig myself out of such messes. What happened to self-reliance?" She would use his logic against him if she had to. It was preferable to showing her anger.

"Understood, Commander," he grinned.

Shepard had the distinct feeling that she should not buy his words. This turian was unlike any she had met. As a rule they seemed to have a tempered pride in their work and achievements. That process added a certain amount of humility; they only took credit where credit was due, and never waved things above anyone else for the heck of it. If it was one's duty to do something, there was no point in lording it over others. Because of that she had never met one she would call an overt, overbearing braggart. Nihlus seemed to lack some of that humility, openly reveling in his power with a certain hauteur that was impossible to miss.

She picked up her foot wraps and straightened them out before she sat down on the bench, took off her shoes, and proceeded to do up the wraps. There were still a few sets to do on the bag, and skipping sets was not something she did. Right now she could use them as a way to cool her temper.

She was tucking in the ends when she heard a ping and realized that Nihlus was still there. Her concentration on getting the tension and fit just right had effectively made her forget that for once she was not alone. When she looked up he had his omni-tool up, a message of some sort has arrived, and judging from the way his mandibles were drawn up tight against his jaw, it was not good. "Something wrong?" she asked.

Nihlus looked up sharply and lowered his arm, his omni-tool turning off. "No, just… Saren wants to meet and talk."

"Ah." Shepard replied. "We'll be on the Citadel for a few days. You know that." She could not expect him to ignore acquaintances, even if they had been unpleasant to her.

"I know, and that is why it can wait."

Shepard hummed as she moved toward the punching bag. Somehow she had the impression that he wanted it to wait. Why? She could not very well ask, but her instinct told her that there was a reason.

Author Notes: Here's Garrus. Nihlus is scheming and having his fun at C-sec's expense… and then there's Saren. The cogs of this machine keep turning. The episode title pays homage to my love for hardboiled detective film noir, where no one, not even the detective himself, is without some serious issues and flaws. It oddly felt appropriate, what with the personalities involved.

General Notes:

Saren – For the record, I think all his cybernetics were reaper tech. Thus he does not have any in this canon. Also, I don't plan to make him any less of a dangerously intelligent, disciplined, ruthless magnificent bastard who hates humans for rather petty reasons. No one's perfect.

Chapter Notes:

RMS Carpathia – This was the ship that picked up the Titanic survivors. When she received the Titanic's distress call, her captain had unnecessary things (heating, hot water, etc.) shut down to divert all steam to her engines, to get all speed (+3.5 knots) out of her, normally 17.5 knots.