Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: My life continues to be hectic across the board. There isn't enough hours in the day for me to do everything that needs to be done. Well enough of me complaining, please enjoy this episode!
Episode 71: Unto the Breach
By the time the four of them returned to the Normandy, Shepard's anger was a full blown category five hurricane howling in her ears. Saren had gotten the better of her, and some part of her refused to acknowledge being powerless to change anything.
Shepard knew that some of her anger right then had to do with the fact that she grew up spoiled. Her mother only denied her requests for logical reasons. Without a good reason, a refusal was merely an obstacle to surmount, or if she could get away with it, to ignore. The Council's reasons for why she could not get the astrometric data were hardly logical, they were entirely self-serving and arbitrary. As such, she continued to spin her wheels, wondering whether there was anything she could still do. The solution to that quandary eluded her, which irritated her more.
Because of that, for the time being she had little choice but to follow Saren's plan, and find a way to explain how she found Ilos without mentioning the data she was not supposed to have. Saren made it sound so easy, come up with an explanation, but that too was eluding her, which fueled even more frustration.
Then there was the fact that she had not told Saren about Harbinger's potential location in the Five Kiloparsec Ring. On the one hand, keeping that card up her sleeve was a tactical decision. But she needed that location, as stopping Harbinger from finding whatever it was looking for was merely treating the symptoms, not the disease. Without stopping Harbinger, there could be no real safety, merely periods of quiet while the mad machine worked in the shadows. She felt like she was within sight of a solution to the entire problem, yet still so far away, and that made her want to grind her molars.
Fortunately Shepard was self-aware enough to know that she was not getting anything constructive done in her current mood. So she went to her loft, swapped her fatigues for her exercise gear, and then descended to the shuttle bay to vent her frustrations into the punching bag. By the time she was done, her knuckles were sore despite the wrappings, but the vent had done its job. Furthermore, somewhere in the midst of all the pummeling she began to see exactly how bad an idea it would be to reveal the existence of the astrometric data to the galactic community at large.
Exposing the Council would inevitably create a category five diplomatic shit-storm. No one within the Alliance would be amused by this revelation, not after the First Contact War. It would outright be early Christmas for the fringe xenophobes. The last thing Shepard wanted to do was to legitimize their self-serving myopic palaver. Then, she honestly doubted the other species would take something like that sitting down either. It would be irrefutable proof that the Asari, Salarians, and Turians created policy to benefit themselves first, if not primarily. While only the Alliance would be outright seeing red, Shepard doubted the Hanar would be pleased either, as they basically worshipped the Protheans.
Of course none of that would distract the Council well enough that they would not realize who the whistleblower was. She would lose her Spectre status and Harbinger would be free to continue doing as it pleased while the Galactic Community was infighting. No, Shepard had to be the one to look past her nose and notice the danger on the horizon. Reckoning with the Council could happen at a more convenient time, if ever there was such a thing.
With her temper back under control she went up to her loft again to take a quick shower and change back into her fatigues. After that she descended to the OD and perched at her work terminal. She needed to make a report to Admiral Hackett. The problem was, that if she was making that report under normal circumstances, she would be telling the admiral exactly what she was doing. These were not normal circumstances. She could not breathe a word of Saren's involvement and the role he was playing in things.
While she doubted the admiral would react with idealism and naiveté, as she suspected there was an untold, hardly squeaky-clean side to his career, she knew there would be questions. How was she going to explain being unable to give him the key details? While, she had worded a loophole into her agreement with Saren, did she want to use it? Mentioning the data to Hackett could still get out as Cerberus seemed to have a mole somewhere in the intelligence machinery, and this would be of interest to them. No, trust the admiral as she might, some things were best left unsaid. She would have to deal with the consequences when they came back to haunt her. All that did nothing to solve her problems though.
The OD door opened behind her. She opened her mouth to greet Nihlus or Garrus, but her ears noted that the cadence of steps was too asymmetrical and uneven to be either of them. There was only one person on board who walked with an uneven gait. "Hey Joker," she called.
"Damn it. Was wondering if you'd confuse me for someone else… but I should've known you are the sort who knows even how we sound when we walk," He replied.
Shepard chuckled and turned her chair around, "They call that having an attention to detail."
"Fair enough," Joker replied as he made his way toward her desk. "I was bored and looking at some… internal news. You know me, I keep up with things."
"What did you find?" Shepard asked. It would have been so easy to tease him about some of the things he kept up with, but her heart just was not in it right now.
"You remember how I mentioned the Alliance building two more Normandy-class frigates right?" Joker began.
Shepard raked her brain for a long moment, but something to that tune did eventually pop up. "I think one of them was already laid down, right?"
"Yes! The Midway. The funny thing is, now that the existence of our Thanix was exposed… they decided to add that back into the design. The Normandy-class will be the first Thanix-equipped stealth Alliance frigates."
"Not surprised."
"Yea, and the Turians are going to love it!"
Shepard hummed, "A modification now is going to push back their completion though."
"Not by much, yes the Midway was already framed out- but two months, at most, and the Stalingrad was just laid down. I'd bet they are launched at the same time."
Shepard chuckled, "Well, we will still have EDI, Garrus' work, and the tweaks Adams did over them."
"What? No mention of my skills?"
Shepard tilted her head to the side, "Fishing for compliments, Lieutenant Moreau?"
"Just constituting facts, ma'am. Those two won't be doing any fancy flying, because the best pilot after me flies the Thermopylae. After that? The best they'll get is… sixth best. Maybe."
"Sixth?" Shepard asked, some note of incredulity slipping into her voice. He could actually put numbers to it?
Joker gave her his best shit-eating grin. "Numbers three, four, and five… well, how do you think I got this job? They probably got other posts after I made them look bad."
"You pulled that vanishing act on me. Was that it?" Shepard asked.
"Yep. Now, I was going to give them fair odds," Joker began, slipping his hands into the pockets of his fatigue pants. "But see, they questioned whether someone like me could fly." His tone deepened noticeably as he spoke.
Shepard almost cringed. Those three idiots went and did it, they touched Joker's only unshielded nerve. "That's a no-no."
Joker laughed. "A no-no indeed. I got them overconfident by going last on the obstacle course, but got the best time and score! Then volunteered to go first on the simulated enemy engagement. Got ninety-eight percent there. Fried one pair of torpedoes with a timely main-drive punch, but managed to avoid getting hit. I… did fracture a thumb executing a tight diving split-s turn, to keep the point-defenses on target, so they took marks off for the turn being a bit too sharp," he rolled his eyes. "It's a simulator! Of course I'll be a little rougher on it… but I made them eat their words!"
Shepard could see it. She had watched Joker's hands dance at the controls, his fingers moving like a concert pianist's playing presto as he worked the thrusters independently. She could also imagine the stress that put on his hand bones. "You also slapped them across the face with the gauntlet before throwing it down." Shepard laughed.
Joker chuckled, "More like I performed a mercy kill on their aspirations of piloting the Normandy."
"Sure… mercy kill, we'll call it that." Shepard thought that he was quite the sadist. Those three would have turned themselves inside-out trying to reach his score. Did Joker intentionally get the points docked? That was the right sort of error that invited imitation, but pressure to perform only led to mistakes. There was no mercy in that ego kill, especially when those three found themselves unable to keep up with the guy they derided before. "So when you said you could make that… turn the Thermopylae did, but sharper-" Shepard trailed off. Should she be encouraging his shenanigans?
"I can make a turn like that," Joker replied, his tone suddenly dead serious.
"With your thumbs intact?" Shepard asked.
"During the test they didn't let me reconfigure the interface."
Shepard nodded. He had undoubtedly gotten the controls exactly where he wanted them by now.
"Shepard, I may not be… able to be there when bullets start flying, but you can count on me to keep this ship and everyone on board safe."
Shepard stared at the pilot with sudden understanding. Joker had picked up on the mood of the day. Maybe he had even seen her wailing on the punching bag. "I appreciate the gesture, Joker."
Joker pulled his hands from his pockets, "Good. I don't normally do sappy, you know. We're going to Ilos… I wanted you to know that I'll get us there." He reached up to tug at the bill of his cap. "Now, with your permission, ma'am, I'll get out of your hair." He turned and started on his way toward the door.
Shepard bit back her smile as she watched him go. That was a tactical punch-out. Joker had an upper limit on how soft he would allow himself to be at any one time. Nevertheless, mission accomplished, he managed to make her feel better. Now she just needed to solve her problems and everything would be peachy. It was time to get back to work, the report to Admiral Hackett would not make itself. She sighed and decided to just get it over with.
An hour later Shepard walked out of the COMCON with a reminder that problems tended to appear worse than they were. Admiral Hackett was not pleased with her inability to tell him anything. However, he also knew that she was a Spectre now and there would be things she could not tell him. When it came down to it, she could only say that she was working through things and if that did not pan out, the admiral would be the first person she notified. There was no outright lie in that.
After getting the report out of the way, she descended to Engineering to catch up with Adams. There was no way to sugar-coat the nature of their forthcoming mission, or that Shepard wanted the Normandy ready for all-out combat. To the credit of her chief engineer, he was as unflappable as they came, and informed her that the Normandy was mostly ready for action. The only concern being their anti-matter tank, which was at about half-capacity, compromising their independent FTL range.
Shepard made a point to ask EDI to add fueling up to the list of things to do, top of the morning. It was possible to do right in the Widow system, though it would take longer, as an Alliance ship would not get priority over the Citadel Fleet ones. Sending the Normandy to refuel at the Widow depot while she was doing something on the Citadel was all about appearing busy. She expected Saren to take at least one whole day, as such she had a window of opportunity to square all the clerical matters.
After that it was a matter of putting Garrus on alert as well. The way she saw it, if they were to fight an enemy who may have resistance to disruptor torpedoes, and with the Thanix exposed, they did not need to hold anything back. Thus she spent the remainder of the day running around, ensuring that the Normandy was ready for anything.
The next day was not much better, except Shepard was too good at what she did to manage to stretch the busy-work particularly further. She finished the actual clerical matters the day before. Now remained the part of addressing their fuel situation. Thus after the crew leave rotation, the Normandy pulled out of its dock and proceeded to the closest fuel station.
The Citadel's version of the fuel depot platforms were quite a bit bigger than the Alliance's own, by necessity capable of serving multiple ships. They also had a small on-board crew and a tiny fleet of worker pods that physically connected ships to the system for transfer. Hydrogen and helium were easy enough, but anti-matter was a whole other beast, requiring a much longer procedure. The Normandy would likely remain at the depot for an entire rotation.
In the end Nihlus walked her through the process of using her new Spectre privileges to jump the queue. Much to the chagrin of the captain of the Citadel fleet cruiser they cut off practically as it was moving into position to be coupled up for the transfer. Not that the vessel's captain could say much after she learned that the Normandy was the designated vessel of two Spectres.
Once the anti-matter transfer began, Shepard handed off monitoring duty to Kaidan and ensconced herself in her quarters. Ostensibly there was work to do, but really she was just trying not to be seen crawling up the bulkheads. She quickly occupied herself with the other supply requisitions.
Hours later Shepard had just finished placing the requisitions when there was a scratch overhead. "Commander, I apologize for the interruptions, but Spectre Kryik asked me to tell you that he has received a data package from Spectre Arterius," EDI announced.
Shepard looked up so quickly she felt something in her neck click. If EDI did not know what was in the package, it must have come across a secure channel that Nihlus did not allow EDI to monitor. "Does he want me to come down to his quarters?" She asked.
EDI remained silent for a long moment. "Spectre Kryik said, and I quote, that he will meet with wherever it would be convenient to you. Officer Vakarian will be at the meeting as well."
Shepard smiled, she really should have known that Nihlus would not care where they schemed. To be sure EDI would become a part of it, and she was technically omnipresent on the ship. "Please tell them that I will be in the OD in about five minutes."
"Of course, Commander," EDI replied, affecting her secretarial tone.
Shepard turned back to her terminal, put it back on standby, and got to her feet. She was down on the CIC as fast as the elevator would take her. As soon as the doors opened, allowing her to step out, she noticed that Kaidan was already on alert and looking her way.
"Commander, is there anything happening?" He asked.
"No. Just… need a change of locale. As you were." Shepard replied, sparing him a smile.
Kaidan nodded and turned back to what he was doing prior to her arrival.
As Shepard turned toward the OD, the elevator behind her emitted a faint hum as it began to descend to deck three. Once inside her official office space she made her way right toward the couch. The OD door swished open barely two minutes later and Nihlus strode into the room with his usual swagger, though Garrus hung back a step. The Spectre moved across the room, sat on the middle of the couch where the main portion and extension met, slumped back, and splayed his arms out over the top. Garrus glared at him for a moment, but then sat down himself on the furthest edge of the extension.
Nihlus paid him no heed whatsoever. "Good news, I got the astrometric data on the Refuge system in the Pangaea Expanse."
"When anyone starts like that, there's usually bad news too," Shepard replied.
"Unfortunately," Nihlus nodded. "Saren is still working on the rest. He mentioned that… there is less information on the initial supernova than we initially assumed. Yes, we discussed the possibly of calculating intensities and directions using relays-"
"Accessing that information is going to take longer than anticipated. It is in Prothean." Garrus stepped in.
Shepard would be lying if she said she had not seen that coming.
"That is only true for the Council, and you know it," Nihlus replied.
"Sure, but the Council does not intend to give us that information," Garrus argued back.
Shepard eased back into the couch. Had they been arguing on the way up? "Peace, you two. Yes, the Council wouldn't want to involve me. Yes, Javik and I are the fastest method, but not the only, as they undoubtedly have other experts. And yes, if the situation was any different, they could have taken the matter out of my hands." She figured she would summarize all the quandaries right away, get it out into the open.
Garrus opened his mouth to say something.
Shepard crossed her legs, set her hands in her lap, and smiled. That caught the former detective by surprise. "Garrus, you're forgetting there's a third party with stakes in this whole thing. Saren is… bluntly put, unlikely to wait for the Council's expert, especially when he knows Javik and I would be happy to help him in every way we can. He values discretion, his time, and has a commendable commitment to prompt mission completion." As much as Shepard trusted EDI, operational security demanded she maintain neutrality in speech. "The Council will come around, after all… their standard policy is to leave such trifling details up to their agents. I do believe that it is only a matter of time until something a bit more… pressing comes along, and they have no choice but to leave the matter to us."
Garrus stared at her for a long moment, but then his eyes widened.
Shepard nodded. "Patience is something I have plenty of, especially for this." Not entirely true, she was crawling up a wall in frustration, but she would have her way in the end. If Sparatus was on to them, he still would not know everything, or possess concrete proof of conspiracy. Saren circumventing them would provide said proof, but at that point it would be too late. "They must be having a positively splendid day." She did not care how all too pleased with herself she sounded right then.
"See?" Nihlus flashed Garrus a brief self-satisfied toothy grin, but then turned back to her. "I thought you would find it all amusing. But we really should not be enjoying this too much, it would not be appropriate."
"Maybe," Garrus drawled, "But I would not talk if I were you. You never stop yourself from doing things you should not be doing, and you never care for appropriate."
Shepard thought she really ought to introduce Garrus to the word schadenfreude, as that was the mood of the moment. Maybe later though. "Garrus does have a point, Nihlus. Don't go pretending you're not enjoying this."
The Spectre shrugged, "I had to put up an effort at maintaining professional ethics."
"Maintaining? Right..." Garrus drawled, "That would imply you actually developed professional ethics in the first place."
Shots fired, Shepard thought to herself. Garrus was really not letting Nihlus have this one. "Now, now… let's be fair here." She began, giving Nihlus what she hoped was a clearly teasing grin. "You did try. I'll give you high marks for effort… but yes, a fail for believability." As far as she was concerned there was no lie in that, mostly though it was to diffuse Nihlus.
Garrus chuckled outright, low and rumbling.
"All jokes aside, there is one thing that bothers me." She went on, intentionally meaning to get their attention and change the topic. She could be pardoned the touch of melodrama. "Saren would have known from the start that the language barrier would come into effect."
"That is a safe assumption to make," Nihlus replied.
"You did wonder why he was being agreeable," Garrus stated.
"Yes," Shepard muttered. It was one more piece of the puzzle that slotted into place. Going from the assumption that Saren knew that he would need someone versed in Prothean, he would have realized they would have to make a mutually-beneficial arrangement. After that, it was only a matter of sitting down at the bargaining table and getting as much as he could. The worst part? She could not blame him for it. While he was more tactless than she would ever allow herself to be, she would have done essentially the same.
However it bothered her not to know exactly where the balance between them stood. As far as she was concerned, she would likely never call Saren a friend. She did not trust him enough, and he would likely take the suggestion as an insult. Still, as long as none of her moral lines were crossed, Shepard had no problem with cooperation. But what was Saren's take on that? Would he ever abandon his quest to see her stripped of her status? That was becoming the elephant in the room.
"I know you hate the wait, Shepard, but it is unavoidable. You will have what you need though, in time, that I can guarantee," Nihlus stated.
Shepard looked up, her gaze had slid to the floor while she had been lost in thought. Had Nihlus taken that as a sign of doubt? She smiled, trying to be reassuring. "That I do not doubt. I always get what I want."
"See, that," Nihlus laughed, "coming from anyone else would have been the height of arrogance."
Shepard blinked, "I'm not really that bad, am I?"
Nihlus straightened in his seat, shifting toward the cushion edge. "Do not take this in the wrong way, Shepard, but… yes, sometimes it is that bad. Saren is not wrong when he says you are a… prime exemplar of human arrogance. Of course I know you better than he does, so I know you are not nearly as self-serving as he assumes you are."
Shepard sighed, if that was all there was to it, then it was hardly a revelation to her. "I've been accused of worse by better people." A certain hauteur might as well be an inherited family trait. "I do try to keep it in check, but sometimes… I just have to speak up."
"We know that," Nihlus replied.
"Half the time they only say that because you get the better of them. They are a bunch of sour… damn… I forgot the word, it was a fruit of some kind," Garrus added trailing off into a low mumble.
"Grapes," Shepard replied, smiling.
"Yes!" Garrus looked up. "Thank you."
"I personally think you are right to be as confident as you are," Nihlus murmured low and rumbling.
Garrus stared at him as if he sprouted a second head.
Shepard raised an eyebrow. Somehow that sounded like it went past being a simple compliment and straight into a flirt. That brought her thought train to a screeching halt. Did Nihlus actually mean that as a flirt, or was she overblowing it? Then, Shepard realized with a distressing jolt that she honestly did not mind if it was.
A moment of silence passed in the room. Nihlus shifted forward again, putting his elbows on his knees. "Well, since we are not going to be able to do anything with the information we got just yet, I think it is time for Vakarian and I to stop taking up your time."
"Hey, neither of you have to," Shepard protested. The OD was one part office space, one part lounge for CIC officers on duty. Her ego was not so bloated that she needed the entire space all to herself.
"Ugh… I was actually… in the middle of some calibrations… on the Thanix when Kryik called," Garrus spoke up, sounding sheepish.
"Ah," Shepard replied. She would not be surprised if he was going over his code line by line for this, but why was he so cagey at the moment? For that matter, Nihlus had made an abrupt about-face. One second he was lounging on the couch as if he owned it, the next he seemed almost eager to leave. What had she missed in that exchange? "Fair enough." She was not going to insist, especially when having a bit of company in the OD might just be a bit of a vanity thing for her.
Nihlus got to his feet, "I will let you know if the situation changes."
"We proceed with general preparations for an all-out combat situation," Shepard agreed.
Nihlus nodded and turned toward the OD door. Garrus lingered for a long second, but then got up and followed him out.
When the doors swished shut behind them, Shepard blinked, still unsure of what had just happened. It was so strange that she could not make heads or tails of it.
Meanwhile, in the Five Kiloparsec Ring…
Calculating the drift of a relay knocked out of its original orbit by the shockwave of a stellar explosion taxed even its vast processing capacity. It also ran the calculations a hundred times, just to verify and diminish the margin of error. The corpus of data generated by the calculations agreed that the event would not have been powerful enough eject the relay from its solar system entirely before its stabilization systems would have compensated.
After that, it calculated the momentum transference and the vectors of ejection, as well as the theoretical orbital course the relay would assume once its systems corrected its drift. Those calculations predicted that the relay must have been put into a more eccentric orbit further away from the system's star. The reason it had become unreachable was that the radiation levels triggered the safety subroutines, desynchronizing the relay. It required a manual authorization to resynchronize.
Normally there were only two ways to send that signal, from the central network control node on the Citadel, and at the relay itself. However, as the relay had not been ejected far, it could still receive mass, albeit with significantly increased drift, and the Geth were eminently suited for the task. It was a matter of sending a small scout vessel with the correct information through the relay to make the adjustment needed for synchronization.
Once the relay was resynchronized with the network, the second phase of the operation would commence. The geth were already gathering for the inevitable confrontation with Shepard. It had a hundred percent certainty that this era's governing council would summon their best agent to investigate the relay once it is fully operational. However, as Nazara had absconded with his vessel, Saren Arterius was presently without the means to travel. It was also ninety-nine percent certain that part of the reason Saren Arterius was cooperating with Shepard was because she had a vessel of comparable capability to Nazara's proxy. Ergo, if the Council involved him, they would also involve Shepard. It would use that involvement to end her tiresome pursuit once and for all.
Shepard would arrogantly assume that her vessel's stealth could still protect it. The geth now knew that Normandy was capable of. While they could not spot the ship while it was cooled in the void, they were excellent bait for it, allowing Nazara to do the rest. The probability of failure was under five percent, even if it factored for mistakes made by Nazara. It was too bad that it could not be there, in direct command as the construction of its own proxy would not be completed in time.
Finally, once Shepard was no longer presenting a distracting, if token resistance, it could dedicate all the resources it had to the ultimate goal. The organics had no hope of opposing it, or the Geth, once it had the entire collective under full control.
Back on the Normandy…
After the day of busy-work, the next couple of days effectively blurred together. By the end of the second day the Normandy was officially as ready as it would ever be, so the only thing that remained was to wait. Unfortunately this was the very worst sort of waiting, the inactive waiting, with nothing left to do except stew in rising levels of frustration. Saren fell radio silent after sending them the data on the Refuge system in the Pangaea Expanse.
Then, as the third day passed, Shepard came to a realization that the Council, or perhaps just Sparatus, was indeed obstructing things. If Saren had gotten his hands on anything more, he would have contacted them by now. He knew that she could translate the data with only a modicum of delay. Shepard could only continue to sit in standby while fuming at the intransience of politicians.
The only thing that took some of the sting off was the fact that to stop her, Sparatus had to obstruct his favorite agent's work too. How long could he possibly last? Saren would undoubtedly be less than pleased with him, moreover he would be a lot less pleasant about it than her. If she would merely give Sparatus some of her best passive-aggressive insinuations, there would be nothing passive in Saren's way of showing his displeasure. Sparatus was going to learn that Saren was hardly the obedient, loyal agent he thought he was. Best of all, Shepard got to sit back and revel in the schadenfreude. Sparatus would never have faith in Saren quite the same way again.
By the morning of the fourth day, Shepard got to the point where she was losing her patience. If the Council thought that she would become distracted, or if they thought they could find something important-sounding to distract her with, they had a whole other realization coming to them. At this point, soon even she would start wanting to get a little less passive in her aggression. Worst of all, the tension was beginning to affect the rest of the crew. The scuttlebutt aboard the Normandy operated fastest when the gossip was juicy, but it never actually stopped. The Normandy had fueled up and resupplied, and she had declared a ship-wide state of readiness. Given how seldom she ever used that before, it did not take much for the enlisted to figure out that something big was brewing.
After breakfast she duly retreated to the OD and turned to the news outlets. There was little else she could do to pass the time. The Citadel news coverage that morning was a smattering of the usual news from across the station. The biggest item was an electrical fire that damaged a clothing store on one of the wards, its cause already blamed on faulty wiring. The announcer stressed that while this was an uncommon occurrence, it was not unheard of. The stretch of shops where this happened would remain closed for a few days for a full electrical system inspection.
After that came the usual mentions of events happening on the wards, which included a visit by a celebrity Asari chef for the grand opening of the Citadel branch of her restaurant chain. With Shepard having so much free time, she had honestly contemplated going there, just to have a good meal. Then she looked at the restaurant's website and found out that the prices were higher than what she was willing to pay. Though, as Gino had once said, she was not allowed to claim to have a refined palette, as she was apparently a food plebian.
Thus, after seeing that nothing of particular note had occurred on the Citadel, Shepard turned to the Alliance News Network. News from Earth tended to be quite boring half the time. Since the First Contact War, the various governments on Earth had become less prone to petty in-fighting. As the potential threat of actual extraterrestrials had put some things into perspective. Add to that, the resources coming in from the colonies had released much of those pressures.
The only thing of note came from the business brief. Apparently ExoGeni Corporation's stocks tumbled precipitously overnight after the company was declared in breach of contracts by officials from Colonial Affairs, and that there would be an investigation into mismanagement of Alliance grants. Furthermore, a second investigation was beginning into the violations of employee and colonist rights, along with a leaked rumor of unethical research conducted at ExoGeni facilities. The whole thing sounded clean and tidy, but Shepard knew the truth. Moreover, with Captain Anderson working with Colonial Affairs on this, ExoGeni would be lucky to avoid bankruptcy in the near future. He was not the type of man who would bend to the demands of high-paid lawyers and settle things out of court. It brought a smile to her face to think that it could not have happened to more deserving people.
Shepard's bigger take-away from that was that suddenly she understood exactly how a Spectre with insider information could use something like this. She could have made a fortune by short-selling ExoGeni stock with the full knowledge that it would plunge. She would just need the right sort of broker, someone skilled and shady enough to act as a proxy. She suspected that Nihlus knew such a shady broker, and she would not even be surprised if Saren had introduced him to his. Dependable shady brokers who could get away with things did not exactly grow on trees. Theirs was definitely dependable, as both of them had their own ship, and Saren not only bought but crewed a frigate. Even with the Turian abnegation of profit, such a thing would not come cheap.
There was just one last thing that had been weighing on Shepard's mind for a few days now. The final thing she could do to increase the Normandy's state readiness. The data Admiral Hackett had given her when she assumed command had been quite thorough. Maybe a little too thorough, some might argue. The Normandy was a mighty vessel, but it actually operated with a restraining bolt. For now, EDI was unable to do much more than work the sensors, communication, coordinate on-board security, and function as the all-knowing eye out in the field. But there was more to the Normandy's omnipresent synthetic.
EDI was a technological marvel, a product of over ten years of work by the Alliance's best AI experts. EDI was also positively well-adjusted, friendly, and easy-going, having emerged while surrounded by people that viewed their creation as more than a machine, a tool, or worse, a weapon. Suffice to say compared to the likes of Harbinger and Nazara, EDI was a synthetic saint. The mad machines thought nothing of other living beings, but EDI displayed the capacity of thoughtfulness and even a wit.
EDI even made friends among the crew. There was no one aboard the Normandy who would say a single bad thing about EDI. Adams even mentioned passing the time by exchanging theoretical ideas or playing chess with EDI during his overnight shifts. EDI could understand such topics, help him run some calculations, and was even better at destroying him in chess. Adams was convinced that EDI had learned every single possible gambit there was, but he viewed it as good fun.
What more, EDI had expressed wanting to do more, to help more. The intentional isolation from key systems prevented that. However, buried within the data she got from Admiral Hackett there was a way in which Shepard could allow EDI to interface with the Normandy's systems completely. The engineers envisioned the possibility of allowing their creation to have full control of the entire vessel. However, the proposal was shot down pretty quickly as the powers that be were wary of the implications. Still, the engineers had created a protocol for implementing the full merging, and Admiral Hackett had included the instructions in the documentation.
Therein lay her quandary right then. Shepard could do it, and not bat an eye, but she would be a fool to completely ignore the obvious counter-arguments, doubly so in light of the existence of Harbinger and Nazara. There was a good reason why letting EDI have full control of the entire ship might not be a good idea. While she trusted EDI not to turn mad and kill them all in their sleep, not everyone else would. Nazara had done all synthetics a huge disfavor by feeding every paranoid fear stocked by bad science fiction and deeply-rooted human tendency to see all new technology, no matter what it was, as a potential doomsday device.
Fundamentally, unshackling would give the Normandy to EDI as a proxy body, akin to how Nazara used the Impera. To most, doing so, in light of what the Prothean AIs had done under the influence of foreign code, would be the ultimate folly. Nothing she said would change their minds, and she would sooner argue herself into unconsciousness. EDI would just have to be the one to prove them all wrong. Shepard could not, in good consciousness, ignore the emergent individualism within their AI companion out of fear, as doing so would be surrendering to said fear. Thus the only thing left to her was to consider how to go about the matter, and whether now was as good a time as any.
Shepard knew that this decision should not be made in a vacuum. Ideally she should discuss the matter with EDI, as candidly and openly as possible. However, how to go about such a thing without coming across as callous? This was one of those things that made her feel awkward and ill-prepared. She could shoot anyone or anything at two kilometers with a HVR, but discussing something like this was much more difficult. At times like these Shepard actually wondered if there was something wrong with her own wiring. Some people made these conversations look so darn easy, but she struggled.
The OD door swished open, jarring Shepard from her protracted musing. She looked up just in time to see Nihlus step in, back straight and without his usual languid swagger. When she met his gaze, just by the look of his drawn-up mandibles and overshadowed gaze she knew, this was not a casual arrival, something borne out of boredom. "Shepard, I received a message from Saren. He wants us at the Council's tower as fast as possible."
Shepard straightened in her seat as if electrocuted. A message from Saren and not the Council? Just what was going on? Then, the realization flashed like a stroke of lightning across a darkened sky. Such a thing would make sense only if the Council did not want her involvement but Saren was making a power-play, twisting their arms, so to speak. At the end of the day, they had an accord, and apparently Saren was a turian of his word, no matter what others might say otherwise. "I have a bad feeling about this," Shepard muttered.
"Saren-"
Shepard raised her hand to forestall Nihlus, even as she rose to her feet, "It's got nothing to do with Saren. More-so everything to do with him even sending such a message."
"Oh."
Shepard turned toward the OD door, and passed by Nihlus. He fell in step behind her without another word. By the time she had exited the room, her mind was already in gear, all other thoughts banished back into their boxes, for later perusal and contemplation. She knew that Saren would not just give Sparatus proof that they were in cahoots unless the situation absolutely demanded it, and that the sort of thing that would demand it, would not be good.
The on-duty crew looked up, but Shepard raised her hands. "No need for alarm, people. As you were."
A wave of muttered replies passed down the CIC as the crew went back to their tasks. Shepard knew this was more of the ratcheting tensions on board her ship. The crew were practically keeping both their eyes on her, waiting for the next move, the next set of orders, and the next mess they would have to handle.
As Shepard turned and stopped in front of the elevator, she glanced up at Nihlus, "So how are we going to do this?" She lowered her voice as she tapped the button to call the cabin.
Nihlus hummed and looked down, his eyes twinkling with their usual mischief, "You have Saren on your side, so feel free to do as you wish. If you ask me… well, the opportunity is perfect to make your common foe rue things."
Shepard smiled. Having to whisper did things to Nihlus' voice that she rather enjoyed. There was also that particular way he spoke when he was in a certain, almost semi-sadistic mood. Maybe it was merely a trick of the translator, but it almost sounded like a deepening husky purr, dangerous in more ways than one. "Oh yes, rue every thing."
Nihlus chuckled darkly as the twinkle in his eyes grew brighter, "I almost pity them."
"Don't. They are reaping what they sowed," Shepard replied, caught up in the moment. It was becoming harder and harder to say that there was no part of her primal hind-brain that did not enjoy the sensation that purr evoked. However, it was unlikely that Nihlus realized that his actions had such an effect. If he had realized anything, he would not be doing it on the CIC. Well, no matter. The crew may get a glimpse of her own occasional bouts of sadism, but they also knew her.
The elevator arrived and she stepped on, going for the button for her loft.
Slightly over an hour later Shepard stepped out of the elevator at the top of the Council tower, wearing her armor and carrying the twins and her knife. Nihlus was likewise in his armor and had brought only his sidearm. Shepard had every intention of exerting her full power to get what she wanted, especially if Saren was going to stand back and let her do as she wished, if not outright help her.
As she started on her way deeper into the space, affecting all the confidence she could muster, she knew that showing up here without being actually summoned could go very wrong, very quickly for her. Sometime during the Skycab ride, she realized that this whole thing was uncomfortably irregular.
While she had no problem with dropping in unannounced, in fact that was something quite common in her line of work, but this was a different sort of unannounced. For all their talk of making the Council eat crow, Shepard was not entirely sure she could do it. After all, she was now within the lion's den and without all the cards and the information needed to make the power play. Maybe that was even intentional on Saren's part. He would have figured out by now that if someone gave her a meter, she would go a kilometer. Shepard knew she was pretty quick on the uptake, but even then, she was not a mind-reader, or an oracle.
As they entered the tower's garden, Shepard noted that the space was particularly barren. The only person there was the turian Citadel Security officer standing just below the grand staircase that led to the Council's open audience chamber. Normally there were at least two if not three officers, but she could not see anyone else. Somehow that felt quite a bit ominous, though perhaps that was her paranoia acting up.
Nihlus walked right past her toward the officer. "Is something going on?" he asked, sounding far more congenial than he normally bothered.
"And you are?" The officer replied gruffly.
Nihlus shifted his weight, "Spectres Kryik and Shepard."
The turian straightened, looking from one to the other.
Shepard figured it was best she step in, lest Nihlus lose his patience. After all, he might have expected to be recognized on sight or something. "We were supposed to meet with a colleague."
"Right, the only other Spectre that passed me was Spectre Arterius, about two hours ago. You'll want to go up and go on your right from the stairs, there is a meeting room around the corner."
No explanation for the lax security or the lack of living presence. Well, it really did not matter, did it? "Well, thank you. I think I know which you mean," Shepard replied.
"Come along, Shepard," Nihlus grumbled as he climbed the first steps ahead of her.
"Right behind you," Shepard replied as she followed. The entire ascend up the steps she could feel the officer's lingering stare on the back of her neck. She did not think she had been too polite, it was probably a matter of whom she was meeting. After all, the officer recognized Saren, and he seemed to recognize their names if not their appearance. The foreboding feeling low in her gut was getting worse by the minute.
She paused at the top of the steps to glance around, the audience chamber was likewise empty. It really seemed like the mood was all hers, as Nihlus turned to the right and brought up his omni-tool, paying little attention to more than where he was going. She followed him without saying a word. By the time they entered the nominally familiar hidden corridor leading to the private meeting room, Nihlus' omni-tool flashed with an incoming message.
"There, he knows we arrived," Nihlus noted.
Shepard hummed without saying a word.
A door down the hall opened, Tevos' aide stepped out and stuck an arm into the doorway, preventing the door from closing as she turned their way. "Spectres Kryik, Shepard, come right this way, the Council is expecting you."
Shepard bit back her smile, yes, the Council was expecting her alright. As much as anyone expected an invasion by pests. Nihlus happened to look her way as he moved to enter the room first. The twinkle in his eyes was back. Shepard took a deep breath and followed him. Something told her that he may have thought something along similar lines.
An intense feeling of déjà vu flashed through Shepard as soon as she stepped past the door. The room was exactly as she remembered it, and the Council sat at the head of the table in the exact same positions, as did Saren. "Councilors, Spectre Arterius," she greeted, affecting her best calm. How was this to go down? She could not very well expect cues or a script from Saren. The hope of seeing her twist in the wind might just be the only pleasure he could derive from this whole thing.
"Spectres Kryik, Shepard," Tevos replied. There was an edge to her voice, as if she was trying to affect her normal matronly tone, but could not quite get it right.
Sparatus nodded, but remained quiet. His stare in their direction was cold and unblinking, with drawn down brow plates shadowing his eyes.
Shepard knew that Sparatus was happy with exactly none of them right then, not even Saren.
"Have a seat so we can begin," Valern stated coolly, though without any other emotion.
Shepard had to remind herself not to read more than necessary into that. A lack of suppressed anger from a Salarian did not mean they felt nothing. Their emotional displays were as rapid as everything else. They were hardly emotionless, but they also processed things at triple speed. That complicated reading them, as any micro-expressions they showed were there and gone faster than a human blink.
Nihlus sat with his back to the door this time, necessitating that Shepard step around Saren to sit across on the other side. Saren did not make a comment about it, but she noticed the way he stiffened ever so slightly as she passed behind him. He was as paranoid as she was, not comfortable with the idea of having a potential enemy in his blind spot. She sat down and made her best effort to pretend that she had not noticed a thing.
Valern input a series of commands into the console in front of him, which dimmed the room lights and brought the room's holographic online, projecting an image of the mass relay network map into the air over the massive meeting table.
The map flickered once as it stabilized, but Shepard instantly turned to the patch of the Terminus right near the Five Kiloparsec Ring where she knew that the Ilos system ought to be. She was surprised to see a dot there, connected to the Hawking Eta cluster.
"So you found it automatically. In case it is not obvious, the Mu Relay has synchronized with the wider network," Saren stated bluntly.
Shepard looked toward Saren, but from the corner of her eye she noticed Sparatus' mandibles begin to clamp around his jaw. Just how painful was this admission to him right then? "On its own? Now?"
"What are the odds of that?" Nihlus asked.
"Zero. I don't believe this is a coincidence," Shepard stated bluntly.
"Good, because it was not," Saren turned his cool look back at Sparatus.
Sparatus sighed, "Spectre Shepard, as much as this is above your… experience level, we have chosen to allow you to assist Spectre Arterius in this matter."
Shepard bit the tip of her tongue. Above her experience level? Nihlus' foot brushed against hers under the table. She ignored it. What was this talk of them letting her work with Saren? She had to force herself not to glance at Nihlus, because if she did, she might just start laughing. The posturing happening here was all too droll.
"As of ten Galactic Standard hours ago, the Mu relay synchronized with the wider relay network. Given its location within the Terminus system, a scout vessel from the Citadel Fleet was dispatched to the Hawking Eta system to inspect its previously inoperable partner relay."
So the Council could move quickly when the mood hit them, Shepard thought to herself. A scout vessel into the Terminus? Had to be one of the Council's stealth Thanix loaners. She could see why Sparatus was unhappy, he would know that in the midst of all that, he was dripping bits of unrelated information that she could still potentially use.
"The vessel's captain reported the presence of a Geth warship in the relay's active zone," Sparatus went on.
"Heretic, not Geth," Shepard murmured. She would correct that misunderstanding until it stuck, no matter how long that took.
"So you say," Valern stated. "We have no real evidence of this purported schism within the Geth collective."
Shepard was tempted to glare, but held back. Technically he was right there, but she would not admit to that openly.
"Did they attack the scout vessel?" Nihlus asked.
Shepard turned to look at Nihlus. That had to be an intentional topic shift, as he stepped in there too quickly to be otherwise. She would thank him later, as now was not the time, and this was not the place to argue distinctions with people who were that stubborn.
"They attempted to attack, and were terminated," Sparatus replied coldly.
Shepard was unsurprised at that, as the crew of the scout vessel was Turian. Make one wrong errant twitch and they would open fire. Doubly so if their vessel was indeed a Thanix frigate. There was nothing the Heretics had, as far as she knew, that could match that. Though that might change in the coming months. The Geth were capable of reverse-engineering things, the Heretics would be no different, and Saren had given them the Impera on a platter.
"Shepard, are you thinking what I am thinking?" Nihlus asked.
"They were meant to be seen." That was as obvious as starlight.
"So you are," Nihlus grinned.
"It is a trap, there will be more on the other side of the relay," Saren stated.
"That goes without saying," Shepard finished blandly. "Also… and this bears repeating, they know about Ilos." She did not continue, but she wondered, how exactly had Harbinger arrived at that conclusion? She would not insult either of their intellects by thinking that the AI was a fool. However, the method mattered. If it figured things out from bits and pieces of data, then fine, she would expect it to collect information and make conclusions. But what if it still had some access that it should not have? None of that was something she wished to discuss in front of the Council right now. All of it verged on conjecture, she had no actual physical proof. They would dismiss anything she said because of that, and go in operating within the confines of their comfortable illusion of normalcy.
"Spectre Shepard, do you still intend to go to Ilos?" Sparatus asked.
"I have no choice, Councilor. Harbinger knows about the Ark, and I know it is looking for something. I have no intention of letting it find whatever that is, nor gain a potential ally in the AI that governs the Ilos facility." While Harbinger had never defeated her in combat, it tended to eke out minor tactical wins. She had not stopped it. "I'll be blunt, the longer we sit here, discussing this, the more time Harbinger has to scour Ilos at its leisure."
"On that I will agree with Shepard," Saren stated. "We cannot afford a further delay."
Shepard turned to Saren and nodded.
Sparatus shifted in his seat as he stared first at her, and then at Saren. A silence hung in the room, so absolute that even the humming of the projector seemed muted.
"Spectre Shepard, you should know that since Ilos is in the Terminus, we will not be able to provide you with direct Citadel Fleet assistance. Sending armed vessels into the Terminus could be perceived as a threatening act," Tevos stepped in.
Shepard kept her expression perfectly flat. She had suspected that the Council would wash their hands of this. They would not want to be the ones to pull the trigger on any incitement that might motivate the criminals of the Terminus to band together in any manner. Anything the lawless terminus tried would make the Council look bad. They would not send stealth vessels either, as that would imply they were taking her seriously. Heck, she would not put it past them to be readying the crocodile tears if Harbinger managed to get the better of her. Of course that was just conjecture, she would not be caught dead making open accusations. "Understandable entirely." She smiled, "No need to alarm the populace. After all, this is what Spectres are for." That was her letting them know that she knew exactly how they would explain this.
Tevos' eyes narrowed while Sparatus and Valern stared at her without blinking.
Shepard could only read that as 'message received loud and clear'. Now it was time to extend a bit of an illusionary olive branch in the form of a concession. "If it would make the Council more comfortable, I will accept additional… oversight." She knew that they would assign Saren, or failing that, he would eagerly take this one, for the galaxy's best interests, and volunteer.
Nihlus' foot brushed hers under the table again, "Shepard, are you sure?"
The Oscar for best supporting actor went to Nihlus for that hint of incredulity in his voice, she thought to herself. "I don't see a problem with that," she shrugged. "I am not so selfish that I can't share the credit."
Sparatus' mandibles had clamped up against his jaw as his eyes darted between Nihlus and her, and then to Saren.
Shepard could almost hear his mental gears grinding. He was likely debating whether his instinct about collusion between his favorite and least favorite agents was in fact a thing. She offered her concession just for that.
"How positively magnanimous of you, Shepard," Saren drawled, the disdain manifesting in his tone.
Shepard gave him a bland look, only to notice one thing, whenever he used that tone on her before, his eyes would darken due to the faint dropping of his brow plates. There was none of that this time. She quirked an eyebrow, was he getting in on the performance?
"Very well," Sparatus cut in, the flanging of his voice disappeared. "Spectre Arterius, you will accompany and supervise Spectre Shepard on this sortie."
Nihlus tapped her toe under the table again.
Shepard looked at him and noted that he was biting back laughter. Sparatus pretending that he was not in the room did nothing to dampen the amused twinkling in his emerald eyes.
"As you wish, Councilor." Saren replied without missing a beat, or showing any emotion.
"Thank you, Councilors." Shepard turned and gave them her brightest, most saccharinely innocent fake smile, but then turned to Saren. She was getting to have her cake and eat it too. "Spectre Arterius, the Normandy is fueled and stocked up. I need only to contact my second officer and my crew can complete the final preparations for departure within two hours." Now was a good time to show the tokens of deference and respect.
"I will need about twice as long to collect some necessary supplies," Saren replied.
"As you wish," she replied. The fact that she would have to allow Saren aboard the Normandy rankled, but there was no choice. Four hours would give her enough time to prepare. This time tomorrow things would likely get hectic enough to keep him from snooping.
"Spectre Shepard, I caution you to treat this matter with utmost seriousness. Failure is not an option," Sparatus stated.
Shepard knew that Sparatus was still grasping for the straws of control. "Nihlus tells me failure is never an option for a Spectre," she replied.
"Or a Turian. Victory at any cost," Nihlus added, staring straight at Sparatus without so much as blinking, his previous amusement utterly gone now.
Shepard chose to remain quiet as she watched Sparatus' reaction. Nihlus had quoted the Hierarchy's creed and motto at the Turian Councilor. That seemed like an insinuation alright. There was also some amusing irony there too, none of the three turians at this table were model Hierarchy citizens. One was a career politician, likely having chased his position, another was a barefaced biotic, and the third a Taetrian, and the son of an outright rebel.
"Then we shall wish you the best of luck, and look forward to a favorable report," Tevos stated, her tone hardly any warmer than before.
"This meeting is adjourned," Valern declared with a full air of finality. The projector on the table shut off, seemingly punctuating the end of the meeting.
Shepard remained seated as the Councilors got to their feet and exited the room. She further waited for the door to close behind them before she allowed herself to relax.
Saren got to his feet, and like this he positively towered over her. "I will give you this, Shepard. Your ability to force Sparatus' hand is uncanny," the veteran Spectre stated.
"He makes it easier than it has any business being," Shepard replied.
Saren chuckled, "That he does. Come along. We have preparations to make."
That reaction caught her by surprise, but it did not linger. "Well then, once more unto the breach," Shepard murmured, mostly to herself as she rose to her feet and followed the veteran out of the room.
Nihlus caught up to her just on the other side of the door and gave her one of his toothy grins.
Shepard wished she could muster a return. Some part of her was wary of the risky endeavor they were about to undertake. No amount of quipping, no matter how wry or poetic, would fix that.
Author Notes: This is going to be the last "talky". What I have planned for the Ilos ark is going to be very action-oriented. I tried to add little bits of tertiary plot development and character moments to the mix, but in general, time skip chapters like this are always a pain in the butt. I do hope you've enjoyed it at least a little.
General Notes:
Episode Title – It comes from a quote from Shakespeare's play Henry V (Act III, Scene I). Henry V is speaking during the blockade of Harfleur, to encourage his troops to attack the city through a breach in the wall. In modern times, the line is often just the fancier way of saying "back to the trenches," as in, back to work.
Chapter Notes:
Split-S Turn – This is a real maneuver. In it, the fighter plane performs a one-eighty roll and then either rises or dives into a vertical U-turn. It is used to disengage from combat. A rising split-s will slow the plane down, making a pursuing fighter overshoot, allowing the chased plane to start chasing it. A diving version will speed the plane up, achieving the same ends. In space, the aerodynamic difference between the rising and the diving version wouldn't matter, that said, Joker would have rolled the ship just as he entered the turn, not before, which would have kept the chasing torpedoes in the line of sight of the back-mounted point-defense lasers, allowing them to shoot the torpedoes out.