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 plot concept for this multipart arc ran away on me right out the gate. It really ended up being almost like a second season finisher, except it's a season opener. Welcome to season three!
Episode 53: Crossing Rubicon [Part I]
It was not long before Shepard found herself essentially deputized into helping Castis Vakarian with the investigation at the crime scene. The first thing they had to do was make sure no outsider stumbled into the crime scene and contaminated it. Fortunately the backup Castis sent for did not take long to arrive. The first wave were a small squad of patrol officers. Castis arranged them around the room to keep the curious as far away as possible.
Inevitably the sight of so many officers making their way to the fifth floor drew the manager. The asari positively blanched when Castis told her what was going on. He also sent two of the patrol officers to escort her back down until she could rein in her low-level anxiety attack. Shepard suspected Castis also wanted the officers to keep an eye on the staff, so that no one would do anything strange.
The next wave were the crime scene technicians. Shepard watched the entire drama unfold from the sidelines. There was the medical examiner with his two assistants, six material evidence crime scene technicians, each carrying a large bag of equipment, and one with a professional-grade camera to record video and take stills.
Castis gave them a short briefing, but after that the technicians quickly donned protective disposable coveralls and got to work. First, the scene photographer spent twenty minutes making a scene walkthrough video, and then taking detailed photographs of everything. After that, the medical examiner and his assistants took custody of the body. Following some preliminary tasks they carefully transferred the body into a large body bag and onto their gurney. The examiner was a no-nonsense salarian, who talked at a dizzying pace, and seemed able to communicate complex orders to his assistants with just a word or two. They were gone as quickly as the examiner could talk.
After that the material evidence technicians got to work collecting anything and everything that could yield physical evidence. Castis watched them get to it for a good long minute before announcing that they could finally go and have a talk with the motel staff. Shepard mutely followed him back toward the elevators. Castis was clearly in his element, who was she to say a thing. She was also the one to press the button for the first floor, and when the cabin descended and the doors opened, it was like getting hit in the face by a wall of sound.
The lobby had become a scene all its own. There were even more officers down here. They had set up an additional security cordon and checkpoint at the entrance. However, as the tower was mixed use, this created a mess for those who lived or worked on the floors above the motel. The officers were double-checking IDs much to everyone's consternation. Off to the side the two officers Castis had sent with the administrator were still with her at the lobby desk. The asari receptionist looked even paler than her employer. It was no great mystery why. Shepard would not be surprised if she expected to be fired when all was said and done. The administrator was very eager to disassociate herself from what was going on. "I would look into this place," Shepard said calmly as she walked alongside Castis.
"By what reasoning?" Castis asked.
"I believe the manager when she says they don't get very many murders, but she's clearly anxious and suspiciously eager to show you her books. I've dealt with a few masters of deceit." Saren immediately sprang to mind, and Shepard would be lying through her teeth if she said she was a paragon of honesty herself, but Castis did not need to know that. "She's not one of them. I'd bet there's something illegal here."
Maybe it would be something as simple as an unlicensed gambling operation, but it could be more. Shepard did not know the exact Citadel policy on the sex trade, but they would have one. This motel happened to be close to the shipping docks, an ideal place to meet the night's client. Then the clone chose this place for a reason, likely because the lobby staff did not ask too many questions. The manager got spooked at the caliber of trouble they accidently allowed in, but figured she might get one over the cops with the right act.
"Could be," Castis agreed.
The manager had seen them coming, but the two officers kept her from rushing toward them. She was still hugging that datapad like it was a shield, but she seemed calmer now.
"We want access to your security system, we need to see who has been on the fifth floor in the past three hours." Castis demanded as soon as he reached the reception desk proper.
"Right yes… we can do that." The manager said. "Come, I will show you to our security room."
Castis did not say anything, just followed the asari.
Shepard let herself fall back to be apace with Nihlus and Garrus before she followed the detective around the reception desk. Her mind was already generating the basic profile of her clone's killer. Cerberus would have hired a human. It would be someone with law enforcement if not military training. That meant she just needed a photograph and a sense of scale. Castis did not know that EDI could expedite identification. In all likelihood, Shepard would know who killed her clone before Castis.
The motel's administration area was relatively small, two offices and the security room. Their housekeeping was clearly elsewhere. The décor here was as cheap and bland as everywhere else, but this was not a five star establishment, and their rating would likely suffer when the news of a brutal murder got out. The security office was tiny, dominated by a large bank of monitors. The single guard at the terminal was human. He took one look at the manager, then the rest of them, and that seemed to be the end of most of his questions.
"Just tell me what you need, officers," the man said.
"We need to see the corridor outside room five-twelve in the past three hours." Castis replied automatically.
"That's camera five-C. I'll put it on the bigger monitor…" The security guard mumbled mostly to himself as his fingers danced over the keyboard.
The biggest monitor in the bank flickered, changing view to a camera mounted at the corner overlooking their target corridor and the end of the bisecting corridor where the elevators were. Right then it showed a view of the forensic technicians going about their work while the patrol officers looked on. Then the screen flickered, and the view vanished, replaced by a clear corridor and a closed hotel room door. The time stamp showed it was about three hours before the four of them had even arrived.
"Put in on fast forward," Castis said.
"Alright," The guard replied.
The video began to wind, though for the longest moment the only indication that it was not actually paused was the moving time code. Then, quite suddenly the door of room five-thirteen opened, and the male guest, a human wearing a suit and carrying a suitcase stepped out, paused only a moment to engage the door lock, and then made his way out of view toward the elevators without so much as looking at room five-twelve.
"The system will have logged that checkout." The guard announced.
"I will need the logs." Castis replied somewhat distantly, his eyes remained on the monitors.
"No problem."
They got to a time about an hour and a half before the murder. The door to room five-eleven opened. The guest was a turian male wearing what looked to be a uniform and carrying a large duffel bag and a weapon case that contained a rifle. He likewise locked the door behind himself and made his way toward the elevators without lingering. The video continued to wind ahead, and Shepard shifted her weight from foot to foot.
Then quite suddenly a familiar figure appeared from the elevator corridor. A man with curtains of greasy black hair, wearing overalls, and a pair of mirrored sunglasses.
"Stop! Wind it back to his arrival and put it on real time." Castis ordered.
"Alright." The guard replied.
The man fiddled with his omni-tool for a long moment, turning on the spot to angle his arm this way or that. Then he glanced around the corner, checking for witnesses, but then looked back down to his omni-tool. Shepard could not quite make out what he was doing on the device, the camera's resolution was far from perfect, but her gut was telling her that this was their killer.
He fiddled with the program for all of another three seconds before he finally stepped out into the open. Right before their eyes he made a beeline toward room five-twelve, keying a final command into his omni-tool as he went. Once he stopped in front of the door, he raised his arm and pressed the device right to the lock.
"Oh fuck… how did I miss this?" The guard hissed.
Shepard stared at the black-haired man's omni-tool as the hack program worked. It had to be a hack program. With each cypher the software matched her anger soared. Then the lock panel flickered, disappeared, and the door opened. The black-clad man dropped his hand to the side, his omni-tool turning off even as something black slipped from the inside of his sleeve into his hand. In the next moment he stepped through the door with a rather sickening smile on his lips. The door closed and the lock simply re-engaged. With no sound and the camera positioned such as it was there was no way to tell what was happening inside the room, but it was not hard to guess. The video stopped moving.
"Well… I'm fired," The guard mumbled.
"Consider yourself lucky," Shepard replied as she turned to face him. He would be fortunate if he only got fired and no one came after him for negligence.
"I want a copy of that recording." Castis announced.
"Yes, sir." The guard said.
Shepard turned away. She had never been one to cause pointless property damage, but punching a wall felt oddly appealing right then.
"Shepard?" Nihlus asked.
She clasped both fists. "That smirking pile of... he knew!" She had written off his tip of the head, smile, and salute as a smarmy idiot thinking he was paying her a compliment. Now though, she knew he had been mocking her. He recognized her and knew that she was going to find his handiwork. "He… smiled and saluted! Had we been even five minutes earlier, we would've caught him red-handed!" Shepard hated being late like this. First she had been late to save Admiral Kahoku, now this? Cerberus were really strumming that nerve. She closed her eyes and took a deep slow breath. She needed to calm down, it would not do to lose her cool now.
"His eyewear will make identifying him difficult, but not impossible." Garrus murmured.
Shepard exhaled slowly, Garrus was right, this was not the end of the world. If she could extract an enlarged image of the man's face, sunglasses or not, EDI might be able to clean it up, and from there map the proportions of his visible features and use that for identification against the Alliance's database of current and former personnel.
"I want a copy of that recording as well." Nihlus stepped in.
"Sure! Ugh… wait, you are not all C-sec?" The guard asked as he turned around look at Nihlus.
Shepard could not stop herself from staring the guard down. He was clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed. "I am Commander Shepard, and this is my friend and mentor, Spectre Kryik. So no, we're not all C-sec." She could not be bothered to keep the venom out of her voice either.
"Spectre… oh shit- you're the real-" His eyes practically bugged out of his head.
"The video, please." Shepard replied.
"A- Yes, ma'am!" the security guard squeaked and hastily turned to the computers.
Shepard turned to Castis, "I am aware that I am not exactly… a trained forensic expert, but I know a few things. My double put up a fight. That guy hadn't bothered with any headwear, his hair will be on or near my double. He was also tracking her, that's why he was on his omni-tool so much. Definitely targeted killing, and we know by whom." Talking about it helped, it sapped the rage within. "I saw a knife slip from his sleeve into his hand. It was black and matte." Shepard said. "Likely carbon-fiber, as that wouldn't register on a weapon detector."
Castis hummed quietly, but said nothing edgewise.
"That sort of knife would not keep an edge for long." Garrus argued.
"Exactly. Which might even explain the mess." Shepard mused. "I'd bet that there will be a fragment inside one of her wounds. But I doubt you'll ever find the rest. Carbon-fiber blades are disposable in every sense of the word. But if we are lucky, he will have hurt himself, so some of the blood is his."
"That is certainly possible," Castis replied.
"Leaving this much potential evidence tells me does not care if we identify him. Which begs the question, why?" Shepard went on.
"Probably the usual. Arrogance." Nihlus stepped in.
"Maybe, but this apathy might also mean he already has a criminal record compromising his real identity, so he just does not care." She hated to think it, but it was very likely that he was a category six discharge.
"Stop. We usually do not operate from such assumptions, and this is not the ideal place to discuss such matters," Castis stepped in.
Shepard shook her head. "Sorry." She knew she had been reaching a little bit too far with the conclusions around someone who did not know of her propensity to spitball ideas.
"This is what Shepard does best." Nihlus added. "On our last mission on Omega we went after some racketeers, except when we got there, most were already dead. Shepard figured out that it was the work of a biotic krogan after looking at some marks on the door and the bodies."
"And then when we discovered that the krogan was still there, she convinced him to work with us," Garrus added.
"It was preferable to facing two centuries-old biotics." Shepard replied blandly. "Ended up making a friend."
"That… would explain the Krogan-made sword you own." Castis noted.
"Wrex called it a knife, but yes. A token of friendship." Shepard replied. Castis had likely seen the insignia on the swatch of varren leather draped over the knife, but she doubted he knew exactly what it meant.
"You know, ma'am… you're right, I'm lucky that I'm only fired. I do not want to be this son of a bitch." The security guard mumbled as he worked.
Shepard had to contain her urge to laugh. The security guard had edged as far away from them as he could while still doing his job. Silence returned after that, which allowed Shepard to lapse into her thoughts. Castis had reminded her that the cat was out of the bag, he had been on the Normandy and had seen the main battery. Kaidan had mentioned that so far no one from the Alliances was blustering about that, but the murder charges were just the front end of the hurricane, and right then she was in its eye. The storm's back end was still due, and it was going to be just as nasty.
They stayed at the motel for another two hours because Castis needed to supervise the forensic technicians and Shepard wanted to run some reconnaissance for her own benefits. It helped that Castis could not deny Nihlus access, which meant he could not deny her anything. In the end Shepard learned that the technicians had indeed found loose hairs on and around the body and in the drying blood. The fact that both victim and perpetrator had black hair meant it would be a while before the lab sorted out which were whose. Nevertheless hair was still a source of DNA, it would identify the greasy-haired killer in time.
Other than that, she learned that the postmortem would not be complete for some hours, maybe even a day. But that did not interest her very much, she knew how the clone had died, and the rest was not at issue. Her only interest was in officially clearing her name, and that would happen. The medical examiner would get blood from the body, and T'Veris would run the DNA, and that would confirm the clone as the assassin that Citadel Security's wanted all along. Her name was clear, even if her clone was dead. Cerberus had not gotten that over her.
Nihlus' clearances and interest in the case meant that they could contact Castis later and ask for the files. So with that Shepard could finally return to the Normandy. Nihlus ended up calling a skycab. Shepard was perfectly happy to take off her helmet and melt into the seat for the flight. It was not a long journey, as they had been on Zakera Ward, and the Normandy was docked in its usual place. Inevitably she started thinking about what would happen in the next two days, and the whole thing caused weariness to settle right into her bones.
Everything depended on how vindictive the brass actually were. They could run the gamut from merely revoking her command, to outright court martialing her. The only saving grace was that she was still a potential Spectre. If they burned her, it might be a decade before they got another chance. Even then, there was room to argue that she only got in on Nihlus' good graces, not because the Alliance negotiations actually got somewhere. Shepard had a sneaking suspicion that Sparatus would not let the Alliance have another candidate as long as he was in office, simply because she was that much of a headache for him, and he could get away with it.
When their vehicle landed, Shepard was slow to climb out. She was very happy to see that the shuttered shopping concourse where the Normandy normally docked was pleasantly free of reporters. However, the single C-sec officer that normally sat at the ticket booth, keeping an eye on things, now had a partner. She passed by them with a friendly greeting, and within five minutes of arriving they were in the Normandy's airlock.
Then the airlock's inner door opened and Shepard barely put one foot forward when she noticed the welcoming committee against the opposite bulkhead.
"Commander on deck!" Kaidan announced.
Joker, Kaidan, Ashley, and Jenkins snapped to attention and saluted. Kaidan and Ashley were in perfect synch, with Jenkins a tenth of a second behind, and more languidly by Joker. Shepard smiled and snapped a returning salute. It felt appropriate given the mess they had to deal with in her absence. She knew that they were putting on a ritual for her benefit. Joker was likely harangued into it.
"Heya Commander, we did not burn her down." Joker said.
"Welcome back, Commander," Kaidan said, clearly pretending not to have heard the pilot.
"It's good to be back." Then, letting her arm drop, Shepard glanced to her right. The CIC duty crew were up on their feet by their station chairs, all of them were holding their salutes as well. "Thank you everyone, as you were!" She called, loud enough for her voice to carry. Without saying a word the duty crew returned to their stations. The marines and Joker likewise dropped their arms, but remained in place. Shepard heard the elevator open and turned her head. There, on the other side of the CIC was Tali, just coming out of the elevator. A moment later she clamped a hand to the front of her helmet and practically flew across the CIC. Before Shepard could say a word, the girl threw her arms around her shoulders and clung on.
"Commander, welcome home!"
"Thank you, Tali," Shepard murmured in reply. Tali's hard face-shield pressed into the crook of her neck uncomfortably, but Shepard would not say a word. She had a sneaking suspicion that were it not for rank decorum, Tali would not have been the only one clinging to her right then.
The hug lasted maybe five seconds before Tali pulled away, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Erm, sorry, I hope I didn't…"
"I don't mind at all," Shepard replied honestly.
Tali nodded, "Ah, alright. I thought maybe it wasn't appropriate."
"It's fine, really." Shepard would not dare say a word. "Oh and EDI, thank you for letting everyone know I'm back." There was no other way to explain the fact that Bravo and Joker had been waiting for her, nor Tali's prompt arrival.
"You are welcome, Commander."
"Thank you everyone for your warm welcome. Kaidan, can I impose on you to hold the fort for a few more hours? Honestly… confinement is exhausting."
"I think I can manage to keep Joker from burning the Normandy down a little longer," Kaidan replied with a grin.
"Hey!" Joker protested.
Shepard nodded. "Good. I should let you all know that we are not entirely clear of this mess. I expect the admiralty will come after me, we're going to be summoned to Arcturus soon. So don't make any fancy plans."
"I want to see them try to convict you of anything," Joker murmured.
"They will try, and I am not going to lie, I am not entirely sure they will fail." Shepard replied.
It was as if all the humor drained from everyone simultaneously. Even Joker's nearly ever-present grin vanished.
"It's that bad?" Ashley asked.
"I'm being realistic," Shepard replied. "Ash, you know how they can be."
Ashley sighed, "Yea."
"Again people, thank you so much, but I need a few hours to myself." Shepard said. "In other words, as you were." With that she stepped past Tali, giving the girl a pat on her shoulder, and made her way toward the elevator.
True to her word, Shepard took the next few hours entirely for herself. The first order was putting away her gear. A quick query with EDI allowed her return Legion's new rifle to the same locker where the forensic technicians found it. After that she went up to her quarters to take an indecently long shower entirely guilt-free. After the shower and a change of clothes she went down to deck three, and was utterly not surprised when Matthews pushed a bowl of scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee toward her with a beaming smile and a warm welcome back.
The remainder of the day was spent going from one attempt to distract herself to another. Much time went to the arduous task of maintenance on her weapons. She wanted to be sure that the twins had not been damaged. She did not find anything foreign lodged anywhere and the software diagnostics came back clean. Shepard would have liked to go and fire off some test clips, but there were few ranges on the Citadel that could accommodate an HVR. However much to her annoyance she was not able to book a time slot in one for that evening, and she had no choice but to turn in for the night.
Yet even after nine hours of sleep Shepard woke up groggy. Cracking open one bleary eye to glance at her bedside table, the clock announced her alarm was slated to go off in five minutes. Shepard slumped back into the pillow with a snort, her internal clock was early.
"Good morning, Commander." EDI said.
"Morning, EDI." Shepard replied.
"Commander, I must apologize for this, but I received a priority message from Admiral Steven Hackett fifteen minutes ago. I routed it to your terminal in the Officer's Duty Room, but I did not wake you up as protocol demanded."
Shepard did not bother biting back the loud groan of dismay. She knew what that message contained. "No harm, no foul EDI. Twenty minutes? Departure clearances from the Citadel usually take over an hour. Please tell me there's coffee in the mess."
"There is. Should I ask Lieutenant Matthews to hold you a cup?" EDI asked.
"Please."
"Right away, Commander."
Shepard threw her feet over the edge and dragged herself upright. It was time to batten down the hatches and weather the back end of the perfect storm. After forcing herself to her feet, she ran her morning routine as fast as possible, and then went down to the mess to grab a coffee to go. Still, it was almost an hour before that she finally sat down at her terminal in the OD to read the message.
As she had expected, the admiral wanted the Normandy back on Arcturus on the double. The brass found out that she had defeated the murder charges, but they wanted her head for letting Citadel Security see the Thanix. They wanted to hear everything straight from her mouth, and what more, Hackett warned her that the inquest was to be led by Admiral Ines Lindholm of the First Fleet.
Shepard had been afraid of that. Admiral Lindholm of the First Fleet was one of the oldest officers still in command. She witnessed the First Contact War from the bridge of her flagship over Shanxi. She never forgave the Hierarchy for the near total rout of her fleet, and she never got redemption either, as it was the Second Fleet under Admiral Kastanie Drescher that broke the subsequent Hierarchy blockade over Shanxi. Adding salt into the wounds was the fact that Hannah Shepard had also fired the single luckiest shot in that battle. That sort of experience sowed paranoia and left lingering resentment. Finally, it was all but universally acknowledged that Hannah Shepard had an undue influence over Hackett. That was a strike against Hackett himself.
Shepard would not be surprised if the old admiral saw it as an opportunity for petty personal revenge disguised as long-overdue disciplinary action against all three of them. The worst would fall on her head though. If Admiral Lindholm wanted to court martial her, she would, consequences be damned. Few would stand up to her to say that she was biased, or pursuing a personal agenda, as that would mean putting their own necks on the chopping block. People could be remarkably spineless like that, tolerating the worst ills, as long as those happened to anyone but them.
She barely remembered telling Joker to get them to Arcturus at his leisure. Her mind was in overdrive, running possibilities as she went back down to the mess to get a nice, solid breakfast. Matthews made a traditional English breakfast for everyone again. She took her large laden plate, thanked the cook, and moved to what was the officer's table. She only emerged from her thoughts five minutes later when a shadow fell over the table.
"Skipper, may I join you?"
Shepard looked up from her breakfast and saw Ashley standing there, holding a tray with her breakfast. "Sure, gunny."
Ashley put her tray down so gingerly that it made no noise. Then she eased down across from her and sighed. "Joker was in an awful rush to get to the bridge earlier. It's happening then? We are going to back to Arcturus?"
"Yes," Shepard replied.
"Will the admiralty really try to make you rue letting Citadel Security on board the Normandy?" Ashley went on.
"They will." Shepard replied as she sipped her coffee. "Admiral Hackett warned me that they already launched an inquest. Worst part? The whole thing is spearheaded by Admiral Ines Lindholm. You can bet your behind that whoever is there on behalf of the parliament will go along with about everything Lindholm says."
Ashley's outright grimaced. "That's just fucked up. Did they want you pleading guilty to a crime you did not commit? I hope they realize that it wouldn't have worked to keep the Thanix a secret. C-sec would have still needed to see the Normandy."
Shepard nodded, and while she would not say it, she could think it. Admiral Lindholm, personally, would have loved that. It would have been an early Christmas gift for her, something to spin in whatever way she saw fit. "I will tell them exactly that. It was unavoidable. In fact, had I not cooperated with Citadel Security, there would have been an incident. The Council would not have been amused if the Alliance tried to stone-wall that investigation. The victims were too high up. Sure, it might sting their pride, but I did the right thing."
Ashley laughed ruefully, "Doing the right thing… with all due respect, ma'am, I think the Alliance has a real issue with the right thing done if it stings the wrong pride. This is why they ostracized my grandad."
Shepard nodded and took a bite of sausage. She knew about Ashley's relation to General Williams, the man who had surrendered the garrison on Shanxi following a brief desperate guerrilla campaign after Admiral Lindholm's defeat cut Shanxi off from reinforcements. He realized that his finite forces faced an unknown number of enemy combatants with advanced weaponry. His choice to surrender prevented needless deaths in an unwinnable battle of attrition against an enemy fully willing to put down all resistance with extreme prejudice. Surprisingly, in some ways it was actually a strategic turnabout.
For a brief moment in time the Hierarchy thought that Shanxi was the human home world, and that Lindholm's fleet was the entirety of what humans had to give. Shepard read accounts from those who had been interrogated by Hierarchy soldiers. Some outright laughed about how the "birds" never understood that the joke had always been on them. The Hierarchy laser-focused on long-term pacification and the logistics of supplying the occupying troops. Shanxi offered them nothing, as even the water had to be filtered or purified, lest a turian ingest some levo-amino microorganisms.
Unknowingly the situation afflicted the enemy's commanders with something akin to the Custer Syndrome. Their lapse of intelligence was not detected quickly enough, which allowed the Alliance to regroup. Admiral Drescher's fleet had the element of surprise when they poured from the system's relay. The final nail in the Hierarchy's coffin was that they would have escalated things further. They lost the campaign the moment they thought to drop an asteroid on Shanxi. The Council inevitably stepped in before their favorite soldiers could commit an actual atrocity.
It all combined into a glorious public image nightmare for the Hierarchy. Once the truth behind the conflict came out, and even though the Council never outright punished the Hierarchy, their dealings with the Alliance were put on the back foot. A subconscious acknowledgement of fault was like blood in the water for a shark. Ambassador Goyle figured it out, and proceeded to press them for all she could get. In a sense, the Alliance won the image war. Yet it was not enough. Some individuals could never see past their stung pride, so they lashed out against General Williams. "I know what great injustice they did to General Williams. I fully agree with the General's tactical decisions on Shanxi." This whole situation seemed like history is repeating, "But… If Admiral Lindholm thinks she can best me without a fight, she does not know me."
Ashley grinned and raised her coffee as if in toast, "Here, here!" However, when she lowered the cup, her expression straightened. "Do you want me to hover in the background? It might just irk her more."
Shepard chuckled, "Now that's tempting. Even more if I double down and she has to face both you and Nihlus." Dealing with a Williams and an insufferably smug, cocksure turian Spectre at the same time? Lindholm would be seeing red in a nanosecond.
"Oh man!" Ashley burst out laughing, a speared piece of sausage some centimeters from her mouth. "That's how you make a statement."
"It is tempting, but might be going too far," Shepard went on. "I don't know how the Hierarchy intends to play things from their end. If they decide to press the issue… things might just turn ugly, and I will be catching the flak deflected off the Alliance's collective ego." It was times like these that Shepard understood why some retired at the height of their power. They reached the point where they just did not want to deal with the politics. Admiral Drescher herself had retired within three years of the First Contact War, citing that she wanted to spend time with her family. Shepard suspected it was an excuse to get away from the pressure.
"On the topic of the Hierarchy-" Ashley set her fork down and leaned in closer, "I overheard Garrus telling Kaidan about the conversation he had with his father regarding the Thanix. I didn't get all the details, but apparently Detective Vakarian Senior has connections right up to Palaven's Primarch Fedorian."
Shepard froze as the revelation washed over her. Castis had connections with someone that high up? "That's… interesting. Garrus hasn't mentioned any of that to me. But… he also hasn't had much of an opportunity. They kept me where they could see me."
Ashley leaned back, humming her assent. "Well, I don't think Garrus got anything definitive out of his father. I get the feeling that he would have loved to smooth this whole thing over, but his father seems like a strict disciplinarian."
"Castis does things by the book." Shepard murmured as she sipped her coffee. "But he is unbiased. He had every opportunity to make my life a nightmare, and instead he's been nothing but kind, as far as protocol permits and in his own way."
"That's good. While I'm not blessed with your levels of insight, even I could tell that Garrus did not seem worried. I think he can see a way out of this mess, but whether due to his father's insistence, or loyalty to his people, he will not voluntarily tell any of us about it."
"I wouldn't blame him for that," Shepard felt like it needed to be said.
Ashley tipped her head to the side a little bit, "Funnily enough, neither would I. He might even think you'll see whatever it is too. With all due respect ma'am, your ability to read a situation does verge on the supernatural. But I do think that if you asked him just the right question, hinted that you saw the possibility, I bet he'd explain himself and then claim you figured it out to begin with."
"You're selling yourself short, Ashley," Shepard said with a grin. The gunny could very well be right.
"Yea, maybe. Well, I'm not paid to speculate, so that's all you'll get from me."
Shepard raised an eyebrow.
Ashley took a deep breath, which raised her shoulders and made her straighten. "Either way, if they want to make some twisted example out of you… I'm behind you a hundred percent. Give them hell!"
"Thank you," Shepard replied.
Ashley nodded and turned back to her food without saying another word.
The Normandy arrived in the Arcturus system about two hours later. Joker had clearly not been in a rush to jump ques and claim privilege. He even stalled on calling for docking permission until the ship was within sight of Arcturus Station proper. Shepard was already in her officer's blues, at her desk in the OD, ready and waiting for the inevitable opening steps of the dance to follow. They received docking clearances very quickly, likely bumped up in priority. Soon enough the Normandy was moving sideways, slipping into their allocated docking cradle. As the docking bay grew ever closer to the OD's viewports, Shepard sighed. At that moment, her console beeped.
"Eager, aren't they," Shepard said, rhetorically.
"Commander, I feel like I need to apologize for that." EDI said, her tone lower, somber. "I wish there was something I could do."
"It's alright. You don't need to apologize, EDI. I'm not holding the messenger accountable." Shepard replied. "I've always known that there were those who would love to court-martial me. I could not avoid giving them an excuse indefinitely." Shepard said even as turned to her console and brought up at the message EDI has just routed to her.
Unsurprisingly, it was from Admiral Hackett, a quick little note saying that whatever she did, she should not hand over the Normandy to anyone, no matter what. He also wanted to meet her in person as quickly as possible. Shepard raised an eyebrow. It was a rather ominous message. "EDI, please tell Kaidan that I want the Normandy locked down in my absence. No one -and I do mean no one- is to board while I'm gone." Did Admiral Hackett think his orders would be countermanded? Well, if Admiral Lindholm decided to go after him through her, then the odds of some attempt were not zero.
"Right away, Commander."
The OD door swung open. Shepard instinctively glanced back.
"Shepard." Nihlus said as he strode in. The storm in his eyes made the light green turn emerald. "I assume you will meet with your admirals, yes?"
"Obviously." Shepard replied.
"Good. I want to be there to tell them that the Council is satisfied with Citadel Security's investigation. They had a meeting with Vakarian regarding the case. The Council has agreed not to terminate your training."
Shepard sighed and got up from her seat. "Good to hear, but the admiralty is not prosecuting me for the murders. The Council does not know about the Thanix yet, which explains why Sparatus has such high esteem for me."
Nihlus smirked at the mention of Sparatus' esteem. Her sarcasm had been duly noted.
"The admiralty's issue with me is the Thanix. It could be argued that I breached operational security to protect my own rear end."
"Maybe, but will they actually go ahead with this if they know you are still their best chance of having a Spectre?" Nihlus argued.
"That is the great question. Just how badly does Admiral Lindholm want my head?" Shepard asked. The politicians might be slightly more inclined to let this slide, simply because they would want a Spectre. But would Lindholm go with that without a fight? Shepard somehow doubted that, and she knew better than most that the truth could be mutable. Lindholm could take the same facts and spin them to support her position. Of course, two could play that game, and Shepard was not above playing it. In the back of her mind she knew that she might have to play the parliamentary representative against Lindholm to have her way.
"Who is this Lindholm?" Nihlus asked.
The Normandy jolted ever so slightly as she finally came to a standstill. Shepard grimaced, and throwing caution to the wind she explained everything, starting from the Shanxi connection and finishing with why Admiral Lindholm might just use the opportunity to get petty revenge. Nihlus listened without interrupting, but Shepard saw the way his mandibles began to twitch, and the rate of the movements increased with every passing moment. She could also see where his mounting irritation came from. This was the one turian in the galaxy who questioned every order he got. "Basically, they know that Castis knows about the Thanix, and it is just a matter of time until Castis notifies the right people. The admiralty might just prosecute me pre-emptively, because it is easier, so they can focus on wrangling with the Hierarchy on their own time."
Nihlus closed his eyes, his mandibles flicking like a metronome as he exhaled a huff, as if venting. "I wish there was something more I could do. Things would not have been this bad if you were already a Spectre."
"If I was already a Spectre, we wouldn't be here, discussing this at all. I appreciate the thought though." Shepard replied. "Now, I need to go and meet Admiral Hackett. It'll probably be a strategy meeting. I don't see Admiral Hackett giving Lindholm a win on a platter."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Nihlus asked.
Shepard got up from her seat and clasped her fists. She did tell Ashley that she wanted to wait and see, but Nihlus needed to know what they were dealing with. "Yea. Can you? If nothing else… I could always use the moral support."
"You will have it." Nihlus replied without an instant of hesitation.
Shepard smiled and turned toward the OD's door.
The trip to Alliance Navy base was not a terribly long by any stretch of the imagination. However it seemed to double just by dint of how much dread was twisting up Shepard's spine right then. Bringing Nihlus along helped, but it also drew a lot of attention. He insisted on wearing his full armor and carrying a side-arm in a very conspicuous manner. It was just not commonplace for an armed turian to be seen on strolling along on Arcturus Station. In his defense Nihlus did not appear bothered by the at-times suspicious stares.
Shepard was glad to see a continuing absence of reporters. She did not want to deal with them just yet, not when things were still up in the air. She gave the usual salutes and brief pleasantries to whomever recognized her. The longest pause she had was one of the base's security guards, a young corporal just months out of basic training. The woman begged for a minute of her time and a hand-shake. She was born on Terra Nova, and her family was still there, so she wanted to thank the one who saved the colony. It was not in Shepard's nature to deny something like that.
The admiralty headquarters was right in front of them before Shepard broke the largely unbroken silence that had been there between them. "Nihlus, I need you to do a little something for me."
"Anything." Nihlus replied.
"I just want you to know that if at any point you do meet Admiral Lindholm, your mere presence will make her grind her molars. Whatever you do, do not rise up to any of her baiting, no matter what she may say about me, you, the Hierarchy, anyone... No raised voice. No hint of anger."
"You want to make her look like the loose cannon?" Nihlus asked, amused like the cat that ate the canary.
"Am I bad if the answer is yes?"
Nihlus' grin only widened. "She is an admiral."
"So? She's also wrong." Shepard replied. "Before you say anything, I do plan to blame you if it does not work. You're pushy… but you'll also survive."
Nihlus chuckled, "You misunderstood me. I would worry if you were to turn demure in front of her."
"I don't turn demure in front of anyone." Shepard replied.
"Good." Nihlus all but purred.
Shepard looked up and caught the bright twinkling of mischief in his eyes. She rolled her eyes, "You're incorrigible."
Nihlus smiled wide enough to show all his teeth.
Shepard smirked back. Though she might call him incorrigible, and he was, he still knew her better than most people. It still boggled her mind how he of all people figured her out. Then again, maybe it was her similarity to his mentor. As they stepped past the automatic doors into the headquarters proper, she decided not to think about it too hard. She needed to focus on the task at hand.
The foyer was busy as usual, with officers of every rank milling about. As they made their way across it, Shepard noted that the stares were still aimed more at Nihlus than her. Odds were that some of those who recognized her would naturally conclude that the turian at her side had to be a Spectre.
The silence between them lingered as they took the elevator up. Nihlus fell half a step behind her here, as he did not know where they were going. Shepard picked up her pace as she guided him toward the waiting area of Admiral Hackett's office. It really would not do to bump into anyone here and now. As she stepped past the entry doors, she stopped cold. The waiting area almost overcrowded. Claudia was at her desk, ever dutiful. Theresa Carrere was also there, which told Shepard that Hannah was ready for come what may. Both women jumped to their feet, saluting.
"Good morning, Commander." Claudia greeted.
Shepard returning the gesture. "Good morning, Claudia. Lieutenant Carrere."
Hannah's lieutenant nodded her head and smiled.
"Since when are you all formalities?" A voice asked.
Shepard froze as her arm dropped away, as if scalded. She knew that voice. She turned her head, and spotted the third figure in the room. He had been leaning against the wall in the corner. A man with sky blue eyes and light golden blond hair cut as long as regulation allowed. Though it often verged on shaggy, right then the tips were beginning to stand upright, lifted by his carried static charge. He was also wearing his officer's blues and a pair of black gloves.
Then he pushed off the wall and flicked up his right hand, touching his temple with his index and middle fingers, and added a blinding smile. "Yo, Pogie."
"Livewire." Shepard replied, not bothering to restrain her own smile. "What are you doing here?"
The blond crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on the wall. "Really? Who do you think Admiral Hackett called to run his errands?"
Shepard hummed, there was no way she could misunderstand that. Admiral Hackett was cautious by nature. Who would he call when he needed sensitive jobs done and neither Captain Anderson nor Hannah Shepard could do them? Everyone knew the two captains of the Fifth's Triumvirate, and probably whichever lieutenants the captains favored and trusted. That excluded them as good clandestine operative material. Shepard's old team was different. They were relatively unknown, decidedly capable, and best of all, could be trusted.
"Care to introduce us?" Nihlus asked.
"Ah right. Nihlus, this is Lieutenant Leif Viggo Thorson, call sign Livewire. He's one of my team during our ICT training. We made N7 together. Leif… this is Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik. My current mentor."
"Figured you had to be the Spectre," Leif replied, as chipper as he could muster to be, although his smile did not reach his eyes. "Was hoping to meet the one who complicated Poltergeist's life." And just like that the facsimile vanished altogether.
Nihlus hummed. Shepard knew that he understood the barb in the other man's words. In a bit of cosmic irony, Leif was just as overprotective of her as Nihlus could be. He was also one of the most powerful vanguards the Alliance had. Shepard figured it was time for a distraction. "Leif, if you're here… are Ethan and Gino around?"
"They're around alright. The Big Guy volunteered to get some coffee, and Gino said he'd been sitting too long, enough said."
Shepard nodded. Gino "Pazzo" Marconi was their combat engineer and tinkerer. He earned being called "crazy" when he lured slavers into a gauntlet of jury-rigged traps, and then waved just before remote-commanding their Mako to riddle the survivors with machine gun fire. He also named said vehicle Constance and tended to talk to it while running maintenance. His inability to sit for a very long time was due to an injury to his left calf muscles, they cramped up if he sat for too long.
The other member, Ethan "Bulwark" Bailey, was their heavy ordnance specialist and all around paragon of reliability. When Gino sustained the injury to his calf during their final examination run, they were going to miss their pickup. Ethan simply jury-rigged a travois from branches, zip ties, and a sleeping bag, secured Gino in it, tied the poles to his own harness D-rings, and dragged it over rough terrain for five kilometers along with his normal gear. In doing so he ensured that they all made it to pickup in time. Shepard could still see the pilot's bug-eyed expression when he saw the travois. Ethan only confirmed that Gino would be alright, took medication for his muscles, and went to sleep right in the shuttle seat harness, entirely satisfied with himself.
Claudia cleared her throat, drawing attention back to herself. "Commander, now that you've arrived, Admiral Hackett would like to see you. Spectre, you can go in as well."
"Thank you." Shepard replied. Then she turned and made her way toward the door. Nihlus predictably fell in step on her right. Leif fell in step on her left, his hands clasped behind his back.
"We're so catching up later," he murmured.
Shepard nodded. There was something to catch up about. She wanted to hear all about what they had been up to in the last couple months. There was also a very golden opportunity to ask Gino to take a look at the twins. It would be as good as taking them to the range. Admiral Hackett's office door opened without the need for her to request admittance. Shepard stepped into the room, snapped to attention and saluted. "Admiral Hackett, sir. Reporting as requested."
"At ease, Commander."
Shepard slipped into parade rest even as she looked around. Neither her mother nor Captain Anderson were present, but Shepard knew better than to think that it meant something. Hannah Shepard would be working in the background, and she would not be surprised if Admiral Hackett tasked Captain Anderson to mediate with any Hierarchy delegation that could be reasonably expected.
"Welcome, Spectre Kryik. I sincerely wish our meeting was under better circumstances," Hackett went on, turning to Nihlus.
"Thank you. Shepard told me what she suspects is going on," Nihlus said. "I came here to say that I will help her in whatever way I can."
"Good." Hackett said. "Well, Commander, if you suspect that you've drawn the wrong sort of interest. You're right." The admiral leaned back into his seat. "The parliament is not pleased that the Thanix was revealed under these circumstances. At the present moment though they are hung up. Everything hinges on what the Hierarchy's reaction will be."
"Figures." Shepard murmured.
"I mentioned this before, but there will be an inquest, and it will be presided by Admiral Ines Lindholm and a parliamentary representative." Hackett went on. "I will say this right now, your actions can be taken as a catastrophic security breach. Knowing Lindholm as much as I do, she will argue for your immediate general court martial."
Nihlus snorted, but said nothing.
"With all due respect, Admiral, that's bullshit. The only way to keep our Thanix system hidden is not to use it. What's the point of having a gun you can't use?" Leif argued.
"I agree with you lieutenant, however, Lindholm will not." Hackett replied.
Shepard sighed, "Permission to speak freely, Admiral."
"Granted. Whatever you say will not leave this room." Hackett replied.
"I know exactly why Admiral Lindholm is coming after me."
Hackett nodded, "It is personal for her."
"She better be ready to fight for it. I have no intention to roll over." Shepard continued.
"And I do not intend to lose the Normandy either," Hackett added.
Shepard clasped her hands behind her back. "Well then. The only thing left to do is to outmaneuver her."
"And you know how to do that," Nihlus said.
"Maybe." Shepard glanced at her mentor, but then turned back to Hackett. "I have an inkling about what the Hierarchy might do. The Thanix was seen by just two people, both Citadel Security. First by a salarian technician -a non-issue as he will obey any orders from his superiors- and then by Senior Detective Castis Vakarian. I already told him much about who was framing me and why. By my estimates he is honorable and honest. He would be concerned with the fact that Cerberus can freely infiltrate the Citadel. He also knows that my clone did not commit suicide."
"A clone?" Leif asked. "Cerberus cloned you?"
"Yea, and there's a story… I'll get to that." Shepard waved her hand. Right now that was not important. "Point is, Castis knows that I'm on the Cerberus trail. And quite frankly, I want to think that he knows that I would be the rare Spectre who won't complicate his life. Then, Gunnery Chief Williams told me that she overheard Garrus talking to Lieutenant Alenko." Out of the corner of her eye Shepard saw Leif's expression change to utter incredulity for all of a split second at the mention of Kaidan. She made a mental note to ask about that later. "It seems like Garrus had a conversation with his father regarding the guns, and… as unbelievable as it may sound, Castis Vakarian appears to know Palaven's Primarch Fedorian."
"Are you sure?" Hackett asked.
"Pretty sure." There was some curious circumstantial bits speaking for it. Castis had clearly not reported the Thanix while investigating the assassinations. It may have been the only concession he was willing to give her, but it was still telling.
Leif whistled low and slow, "Pogie, that's friends in very high places you got yourself."
"That I may have." Shepard corrected. "I want to think Senior Detective Vakarian and I have… an understanding. Maybe this is wishful thinking, but I hope he would not speak too ill of me. If Primarch Fedorian is indeed his friend, and is reasonable, then perhaps a… mutually beneficial agreement, saving face for both sides, could be reached. Of course, we'd have to get around Admiral Lindholm's more… contrarian tendencies."
Hackett nodded. "Can you do that?"
"Maybe." Shepard admitted. "And I will have to go above my rank privilege. Sir, the Normandy's guns were reverse engineered from a wreck. That much is true. The Hierarchy's interest is in whether there was an act of war, a breach of the armistice. It is their right to be concerned. However, I suspect Admiral Lindholm would rather… chew off her own arm that cooperate with turians in any manner. But her non-cooperation will sour already tense relations, and for what? I will not have it. If keeping the peace means going around her, I will. Maybe I can even use this tenuous connection between Primarch Fedorian and Castis Vakarian, along with Nihlus' status as a Spectre, get an audience-"
"I can get you that meeting, Shepard. Just tell me when." Nihlus slipped in.
Shepard nodded, "If I can talk to Fedorian, or just his representative, maybe… just maybe I can iron all of this out… and if anyone asks, call it Spectre-grade peacekeeping."
"That is a bold plan, Commander." Hackett said.
"It would not be the first time that a Spectre led some diplomatic talks in the background," Nihlus added.
Shepard looked Hackett right in the eyes. She wanted to be sure he understood what she was suggesting here. "It is the only way I can see which prevents a mess. Call me selfish sir, but I have no intention of being court-martialed for Admiral Lindholm's vanity."
"It was never my intent to let her court-martial you frivolously," Hackett replied.
"Sir, I am perfectly aware this is the sort of gamble that Julius Caesar took when he crossed the Rubicon. But I strongly believe that no one will benefit from the alternative. If I can manage this… everyone wins, and I do mean everyone. Even the admiral might be induced to see a peaceful resolution as a victory." Shepard would not say it, but she had another ace up her sleeve to make sure Ines Lindholm saw things her way. It was the very reputation that Ines Lindholm wanted to destroy.
Shepard had a Star of Terra for Elysium, and she had saved Terra Nova from Balak. Would someone actually try to discredit a hero in the court of public opinion? Coming after her reputation, doubly so if she actually managed to prevent an incident between the Hierarchy and the Alliance, was almost suicide. Getting the Hierarchy to step back from a conflict, even if she had to tell them the truth, was a power play. Shepard would only be on surer footing. "I might even be inclined to let Admiral Lindholm have a… smidge of the glory. Let the people think that she had a hand in the peaceful resolution," she finished with a smirk. It was essentially what she had done to Saren on Noveria. She went around him, but made him look better in the long run.
Hackett sighed long, and deep. "Commander. I have to say, you are asking me to be a part of a very-clearly premeditated conspiracy against a fellow admiral."
Shepard did not say anything. She knew that the admiral was entirely right. Her plan was a very murky scheme. At the same time, it was done out of good intentions. The only thing Shepard wanted from it, at the end of the day, was to keep the peace and her command. Was that really so much to ask?
"Normally, I wouldn't have even entertained the idea." Hackett began, breaking the dead silence that had settled over the room. "However, you are right when you say that Ines would happily sour our relations with the Hierarchy for years to come for her pride. Furthermore, your court-martial would paint me in an unfavorable light as well."
"I'm sorry about that, Sir." Shepard murmured.
The admiral did not say anything, he was clearly mulling the whole thing over. Shepard knew he would be weighing the odds of everything going to hell in a handbasket.
"Commander?"
Shepard snapped out of her own thoughts and looked up. She had not even realized that her gaze had slid down to the floor.
"You are very right to compare this to Caesar's crossing of the Rubicon. If I let you do this, there will be no going back for any of us. It's all or nothing."
Shepard smiled wanly.
"If you like your odds on this, then do it. It would be in the Alliance's best interests. However, know this, you will not have unanimous support. There will be those within the Navy and the Parliament who will see your actions as indicative of your personal agenda, well above your station. If this does not work, I will be unable to help you, and even if it does work, you will have a permanent target on your back." Hackett went on.
"I realize that." Shepard said. She was hardly naïve enough to miss that part. If she managed to steer around Admiral Lindholm, she would make an enemy of the admiral. There were also the admiral's allies to worry about. Like-minded individuals who would never let her live any of this down. However, Shepard was dead set on keeping her commission and her command. If she let the likes of Lindholm defeat her in this battle, the blowback would be terrifying. Her mother would be tarred, Hackett's reputation would be in tatters, and they might as well declare Cerberus the winners of the war. She had no choice but to wager everything, and win.
"Is there nothing we can do to address that?" Leif wondered.
"There might be." Nihlus stepped in. "If Shepard achieves this feat of peacekeeping then… I might be able to talk Councilor Tevos and Valern into increasing the pressure on Sparatus, get him to stop holding back his assent to her promotion to full Spectre."
Shepard looked up, surprised. "And that would make me all but untouchable." She knew that mischievous look in her mentor's eyes. He liked his odds of doing that.
"Precisely," he purred.
"Then it is decided," Hackett said as he shifted in his seat, causing his luxurious chair to squeak ever so slightly. "I do not expect the Hierarchy to take very long to put together a delegation. Shepard, I will transfer to you the materials you need to show to whoever it is. You will want to peruse the files yourself, and feel free to share them with Spectre Kryik. I say that, knowing that you'd share the information with him regardless." The admiral stared her down as he spoke.
Shepard nodded, and tried her best not to grin sheepishly. It was obvious, really. Nihlus now had a part in the scheme, he would have to know more about what was going on.
"In the immortal words of Julius Caesar, alea iacta est."
Shepard nodded again, there was very little she could say to that. The expression was apropos here as it had been some two thousand two hundred years ago.
Author Notes: I've been teasing people with the idea that my Shepard is a bit of a pariah, well, the other shoe has finally dropped. This episode coincidentally has very long notes.
General Notes:
Category Six – This is the Alliance's version of dishonorable discharge. Within the US military (my model) a dishonorable discharge is punitive, handed by general court martial for severe criminal offenses. Kai Leng does have that in his canon backstory, in 2176 he was convicted and imprisoned for committing first degree murder at a Citadel bar while on leave, using his service knife.
Chapter Notes:
Custer Syndrome – Also known as "Victory Disease", it is a false sense of security brought on by repeated victories, which make commanding officers arrogant, overconfident, complacent, and prone to fatal mistakes. It is named for Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer, who thought all his campaigns against the Native Americans would go the same way, with him winning. As a result, he ignored intelligence before the 1876 Battle of the Little Bighorn, to disastrous results.
Crossing the Rubicon – Crossing the point of no return. So called for when in 49 BCE Julius Caesar took a single legion across what was then the boundary between Rome's Italian territories and Cisalpine Gaul, a colony. The act was breaking the republic's law, effectively beginning the civil war that resulted in Caesar's dictatorship.
Alea iacta est – "the die has been cast". According to Suetonius from his Vita Divi Iuli ("The Life of the Deified Julius", written in the second century CE), these were the very words Caesar said after crossing the Rubicon.