Temple Palaven
Temple Palaven—or at least what was left of the temple—looked like little more than a pile of rocks on the horizon. Shepard crossed her arms over her chest and glanced around her, taking in the uncovered faces of several turians, some familiar, some not so much.
"Well, Shepard, Vakarian, how do you suggest we proceed?" Adrien Victus wasn't one she'd expected to see on her trip, but he was a welcome sight.
At least she had an idea of what to expect from the man. Jane seemed a little more focused when the general talked, too. Clearly she respected the turian.
And, of course, they both knew what to expect from Sparatus.
"Depends …." She sucked on her teeth and glanced at the general. "Do we have access to tech that can see through the solar radiation enough to pick up on weaker radiation and thermal signals? We need something sensitive enough to locate even a single enhanced individual, not just big artifacts throwing off energy."
"They have to have developed something to work around that, right?" Jane asked.
"Probably," Shepard thought, still piecing together ideas in her mind. The last thing she wanted was to have to go near the ruins herself. The idea of a reaper artifact capable of instant indoctrination and physical alteration scared the shit out of her. It might even be worse for her, given her Cerberus implants. She might just be the easiest score the artifact ever came across. Sure it was possible that the Cerberus implants might give her some protection instead, making her … incompatible with the nanotechnology Mordin talked about, but she sure as hell wasn't in any hurry to find out.
Victus flicked a mandible and turned his gaze back out at the fallen temple, studying it in silence with his hands tucked behind his back. After a moment, he looked at her and said, "I'm no scientist, Commander, but I believe so long as the signatures we're looking for don't match our solar radiation, we can account for it in our scans. I'm sure we can find enough hand-helds to equip ground troops—"
"No!" Shepard and Garrus both shouted at once.
Victus slowly turned his head back to them, brow plates hiked high, the offense clear on his face. "Excuse me?"
Sparatus laughed. A real, honest to God, full-bodied laugh.
Shepard was glad she wore her helmet with her visor blacked-out because her jaw dropped, and she stared at the former councilor as if he'd just recited her a love poem. Garrus, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. When Sparatus caught everyone staring at him with widened eyes, he laughed again and then patted Victus' shoulder.
"You never would've survived a week on the Council working with this one, Adrien." He jerked his head in Shepard's direction.
"Pfft." Shepard relaxed her stance, dropping her weight back to one hip as she focused in on Sparatus. "I don't know, I bet I wouldn't have wanted to shoot him nearly as much."
"Agreed," Jane said, voice dripping with disdain aimed at the former councilor.
Knee-jerk barks of laughter rolled through the crowd of turians but cut off swiftly. By the time she glanced up, all eyes remained locked dead ahead, and she couldn't have said who laughed and who didn't even if someone promised to end the whole damn war if only she got the answer right.
"And yet," Sparatus said, taking a couple of steps in her direction, owning his swagger as much as the cane that helped bring him closer, "you went out of your way to save my life." Humor danced in his eyes, and he looked a decade younger than before his retirement—even while struggling under the weight of light armor. "Why no ground troops, Shepard? I'm sure I already understand, but please, enlighten the rest. I think I'm going to enjoy the show."
She snorted, fighting the urge to reach out and shove the older turian just to see if she could make him topple over. Granted, she didn't hate Sparatus, not anymore, but he did still find ways to get under her skin every time they spoke. Based on the flick of his mandibles and the spark in his eyes, it was almost a game to him. It was okay. She liked the occasional game, too.
"Commander?" Fedorian said, drawing her attention.
She'd felt oddly relieved when the primarch arrived at their rendezvous location in full armor. The longer she stayed on Palaven, the more certain she felt trouble was going to find her, no matter what promises she'd made to Garrus. The last thing she needed was a dead primarch getting blamed on her, too.
"We don't know for certain how far out the monolith can detect the presence of people, or what the radius is of its blast." She glanced between Fedorian and Victus before letting her gaze slide to Sparatus. "It may not be strong enough to reach anyone moving over the rubble—I don't know. We also don't know how close to the surface the artifact is, and my sources suggest there could be a second artifact in the ruins as well. We don't even know what that one does. So, sending in ground troops is too risky and unnecessary. We can get the job done with an aerial scan. I'd offer to use the Normandy," she said and then glanced at Garrus, still uneasy over and trying not to think too hard on his and Fedorian's ambush, "but she's still in dry dock."
"Fair point." Victus snapped his mandibles and dipped his head. "I'll call it in; what should I have them looking for?"
"Mordin?" Shepard called over her shoulder and waited while the salarian wove his way through the crowd to stand in front of her at the ready. "Help Victus and his men figure out what parameters we're looking for in an aerial scan of the ruins, factoring in Palaven's natural radiation levels."
Shepard held her breath as the first fighter jet passed overhead. She'd been right, and it was one of those times where she really wished someone proved her wrong, instead. Aerial scans picked up not one but two artifacts, and several clusters of what appeared to be partially organic heat signatures.
The Valluvian Priests still guarded the Arca Monolith.
The first missiles dropped, and she braced herself for the inevitable concussive blast, giving one last glance to all of the turians around her to make sure none were stupid enough to keep their helmets off—unless they actually liked ruptured eardrums and the taste of dirt, at best. Several more jets flew overhead, dropping their payloads before circling back around.
When the first wave of displaced air hit, Shepard stumbled back a couple of steps despite her efforts to stand her ground. Garrus caught her with a hand pressed between her shoulder blades on one side while someone else's hand caught her arm on the other. She glanced over in time to see the primarch tuck his hand behind his back once again. She gave him a quick nod, but he kept his eyes straight ahead, not acknowledging her slip. Meanwhile, Sparatus growled and shook off Victus and two other turians helping him to find his footing. Surprisingly, Mordin's wispy frame didn't seem to have moved an inch. She leaned in against Garrus as the next blast hit, combining their mass to help anchor them both, and he threw an arm around her shoulders.
A shitton of dirt and debris filled the air, making it impossible to see more than a couple of feet in either direction. She kept her head tucked close to Garrus, the urge to hide her face from the cloud of dust strong despite her breather helmet being securely sealed.
"What is that?" Garrus' voice filtered through the comms before she'd fully even cleared her head. "Spirits, Shepard, look!"
She glanced up, but the cloud was still too dense for her to see anything. She drew her sniper rifle and extended the scope, and her HUD flashed to life, helping her to focus through the dust. Shepard saw several, large, imposing figures digging themselves out of the rubble. "Goddamnit," she hissed before barking orders, "Look alive, people! Weapons out. We've got priests fleeing the temple." She activated her incendiary ammo and lined up her first shot. "And yes, Garrus, I heard how horrible that sounded. Just shoot the damn priests."
His throaty laughter preceded the bark of her sniper rifle.
"It looks like they did us a favor." Victus hummed as he looked over the readouts on his omni-tool. "Some of the Valluvian Priests were carrying the artifact out of the ruins. Spirits only know what would've happened if they'd managed to escape with that thing, but now it's out in the open and we can hit it with another airstrike. We're still getting readings from the second artifact beneath the ruins. If these airstrikes aren't enough to destroy it, we may need to try sending in remote-piloted mechs."
"Good idea, General." Shepard nodded, a thought stewing in the back of her mind finally making its way to the surface. "You know … this may not be the only location on Palaven with reaper artifacts." She turned to face Victus fully and tucked her hands behind her back. "See if we can use Palaven's satellite systems to scan the whole planet. If it's workable, spread the word. We'll need to make sure they handle any sites found with the proper caution, but I want people on every inhabited planet scanning for artifacts. It won't stop the reapers, but the more artifacts we can destroy, the harder time they'll have wiping us out when they arrive. Mordin can get in touch with Major Kirrahe from STG, he's helped me deal with some of these artifacts in the past, and he has the connections to get all of the intel where it needs to go. He can contact me for further details if needed."
He flicked a mandible as he studied her, it was a look they'd seen on his face before, and they knew he was taking their measure. "Is that an order, Spectre?"
She raised an eyebrow, standing a little straighter. "If it needs to be."
"It doesn't need to be. Not from you, at least." Fedorian closed the distance and came to a stop next to Shepard. "Victus, do as the commander says. If this works, I want every world's leader to know before the sun sets. Am I clear? We're in this fight together."
"Fedorian's not what I'd have imagined," Jane said. "He's a lot more reasonable than what he seemed when Garrus—my Garrus talked about him. Seems somehow, you even managed to change Palaven's Primarch."
"It's probably just a mix of this crap with The Dissension," Shepard thought, "having the chance to talk to us himself, and now the Council is actually taking their heads out of their collective asses and admitting to the reaper threat." She gave Jane a mental shrug. "It was all bound to paint a different picture, right?"
"Yes, sir." Victus gave the primarch a tight nod before walking away, lifting his hand to activate his mic.
"I suppose." Jane didn't seem convinced or concerned one way or the other, so Shepard let it drop.
"Shepard," Fedorian said, turning to stand in front of her and holding out his hand. "I appreciate the work you've done here, Commander. I know it's—as you humans say—in your job description as a Spectre, but I also know all of this is personal for you, as well. I want you to know that Palaven stands ready, and you have the full support of the Hierarchy, regardless of what the Council may decide in all of this."
"Thank you, sir." She squeezed his hand, adding a little extra oomph to the shake. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear you say so. And, I appreciate the work you're doing on the Normandy. I swear, I had no idea Garrus intended to ask for the retrofits … say the word, and I'll make sure the Council reimburses you for every credit, one way or the other."
Jane laughed. "And how would you manage that?"
"I don't know, but I'll make it happen," Shepard thought. "Even if it means hacking into their accounts and forwarding the money to Fedorian myself. I doubt they'd even notice. Hell, Kasumi would be thrilled if I asked her to make it happen."
Fedorian chuckled, tucking his hands behind his back when she let him go. "Nonsense. With everything you've done for my people, I'm glad to have found some way to help balance the scales."
"There goes Kasumi's fun." Jane snorted and chuckled.
He turned so he stood more at her side than in front of her and looked over at Victus. "What are your thoughts on the general?"
"Victus?" Shepard arched an eyebrow, the amalgamation's memories threatening to consume her again. She shook her head, more to clear her mind than anything else. "I think he's not afraid to do what needs to be done, and he's clearly willing to work with others if it means reaching his goals. He seems like a good soldier; a good leader, even. Why?"
"Garrus mentioned you're working with a skeleton crew and still rebuilding your team." He met her gaze again and said, "He's yours, if you want him, Shepard."
"Interesting." Jane hummed, the sound buzzing around in Shepard's skull. "New, and potentially problematic, but definitely interesting."
"Uh," she said, letting out a soft chuckle and rubbing the back of her neck, "from a military standpoint, he outranks me. I doubt he'd appreciate having to take orders from a commander all day."
"That's irrelevant, the two of you aren't even a part of the same military. Regardless, your Spectre status supersedes his rank and yours." Fedorian flicked a mandible, a smirk toying with his mouth plates. "Either way, I outrank him, and he'll follow your command if I order it so." Fedorian crossed his arms over his chest as he completely obliterated her weak, reflexive argument.
"Sounds like he wants Victus with you," Jane said, and she wasn't wrong, "but why?"
"Good question," they thought. They didn't have an answer for Jane, though, and unanswered questions tended to make them antsy.
"He's a bit unruly, likes to play fast and lose with the rules, but his unorthodox tactics have helped earn him the rank of general. With your record, both in the Alliance and as a Spectre, I don't think there's many others out there better equipped to truly recognize his potential and put it to use where it'll make a difference." Fedorian hummed, meeting and holding her gaze again. "I should warn you, however, he was active in the Relay 314 incident."
They were already well aware of Victus' tactics and his status as a vet of the First Contact War. They didn't have any problem working with him, other than to worry what it'd mean if they failed to keep him alive, and he wasn't there to replace Fedorian if it was still needed.
"Did you and Garrus plan this, too?" they asked, buying time while they finished sorting through their thoughts on the matter. They had to be very careful, watch what they said and how they said it. They didn't want Fedorian to know they existed as a 'they', and they were pretty sure Dawn wasn't going to come to a decision on her own. "Speaking of, you should both know, Garrus is my second in command. So, Victus will be expected to answer to him, also."
"Victus will respect his place within the Normandy's command structure, whatever that place may be." Fedorian chuckled and shook his head. "And no, you can blame this one entirely on me."
They snorted and watched the general as he spoke over his comm for a moment. "He's pretty close in line for primarch after you, isn't he?"
"He is," Fedorian said, subvocals suddenly flanging heavily with irritation, "but if you're suggesting that's why I'm sending him with—"
"It's not," she said, the heated emotion laced through the primarch's voice snapping her firmly back into place as she turned to stare into Fedorian's stony, gray eyes. "Sorry, sir." She shook her head and tucked her hands behind her back. "I didn't mean to imply you were aiming for anything underhanded. I only meant sending him with me could be dangerous, and if something were to happen to you, Victus might not be around to take up the mantle." She paused for emphasis and to collect herself further. "I don't want him if this will negatively impact your people."
Relaxing his stance a little, Fedorian glanced back at Victus before lowering his gaze. He shook his head. "We are trained to serve from the moment we are born. Trained to fight, trained to lead, and when we must, trained to die for the cause. There isn't a single one among us who won't pick up the mantle, as you say, if they're called to do so and do the best damn job they can in service to the Hierarchy. The line of succession doesn't end with Adrien, and it will carry on without him, if it needs to."
"Tarquin, Victus' son, won't die trying to protect the bomb on Tuchanka from Cerberus, now." It was the only further input Jane seemed to have to offer.
Shepard took a deep breath turning her attention back to Victus. The amalgamation's opinions solidified, forming a consensus, so to speak. "I'll take him, if and only if, it's something he agrees to of his own free will."
"Very well, Commander." Fedorian nodded and shook her hand again. "I'll make sure you have his decision before you're ready to leave Palaven."
~69696969~
Apparently, Fedorian hadn't bothered to tell the Spectre that he and Sparatus were already engaged in discussions regarding the temple ruins. Sparatus hadn't needed Shepard to figure out there was a reaper artifact in the ruins. Nor did he require her input to determine it was still active and still a threat despite Saren's orbital strikes. Fedorian quartered off the area under Sparatus' advice long before she called to tell them of what she learned while hunting down that nuisance who called himself 'The Illusive Man'.
They'd already lost a squad of soldiers and a Blackwatch team to indoctrination while trying to figure it out, however, so he wasn't surprised Fedorian didn't want to show his hand to the Spectre. What would the Council say? Spirits knew he would've been extremely frustrated with the primarch if he'd still been on the Council. Especially if Shepard had been the one to inform on the primarch. Still, he felt certain they would've come to a conclusion on how to handle the situation without Shepard, eventually.
Admittedly, it did appear she'd come up with a way to handle the problem and prevent any further losses in just a few minutes' time. Spirits, he hated when she was right. Of course, her way was the furthest thing from discrete, and it cost the Hierarchy a significant amount of credits. Not that Fedorian seemed to care. Rumor said the primarch was even paying for upgrades to Shepard's ship!
Sparatus wondered if Adrien knew about the temple, the artifact, or any of it at all before Fedorian called him in to consult with Shepard. It wouldn't surprise him either way; Fedorian wasn't in the habit—nor should he be—of keeping Sparatus informed of his plans. He watched as Shepard and Fedorian chatted, their attention focused on Adrien. He supposed it meant the general would soon be off running one fool's errand or another for the Spectre. Good riddance, let Shepard deal with Adrien. The two of them deserved one another.
Perhaps with the general out of the way, Sparatus might have more luck dealing with The Dissension in a way that didn't end in another war between humans and turians or wiping out countless potential soldiers in the war against the reapers. Even if some of The Dissension were indoctrinated, they weren't all. They couldn't be. And whether or not they hated humans, when the reapers arrived, those who weren't already puppets for the reapers would most certainly want to stand and fight regardless of who fought beside them. Not if Adrien had his way, though. They'd all be dead, instead.
Spirits, spending time with Shepard might actually do the general some good. She was brash, but she at least tried to minimize casualties.
As much as it pained him to admit it even to himself, he'd been wrong about Shepard. Not just the things she had to say about Saren and Sovereign, or even the collectors and the reapers, but about the woman herself, too.
Again.
In just a handful of weeks, she'd gone from talking insanities in a hospital for the mentally ill to standing on Palaven convincing his people to drop missiles on their own planet. Which, he realized, under other circumstances would be far more alarming. Still, he'd been so certain she'd never pull herself together again, at least not quickly enough to be of any real use in the war. Maybe she would be spearheading the resistance against the reapers, afterall. She certainly had the tenacity.
Sparatus waited until Fedorian left her alone again, walking away to stand next to Adrien. Of course, Vakarian managed to find his way to her side before Sparatus even took five steps, but it didn't matter. He knew Shepard well enough to know she'd have called her lover over the moment she'd realized Sparatus intended to speak to her in private, anyway. He supposed it was just as well. Vakarian stood by her side from day one, and she'd made it clear she wasn't in the habit of keeping intel from him, no matter how sensitive.
He glanced up as the jets flew overhead again, scanning the temple once more before they began their next series of strikes. "A word, Commander?" he called out as soon as he thought the noise from the jets had decreased enough for her to actually hear him.
She glanced up, shielded visor scanning the area until she located Sparatus. She turned her head to Vakarian and said something before they both headed in his direction. Knowing Shepard, she thought she was showing Sparatus kindness by not making him walk all the way to her, but Vakarian had to know their actions only highlighted Sparatus' weaknesses to everyone watching. Oh, but why would the young turian care?
"Councilor." Shepard stopped, holding up a hand to show her palm. "Sorry. Sparatus, what can I do for you?"
"I thought with your mind more clear than the last time we spoke on the Citadel, you might be able to explain to me what exactly you were going on about?" He flicked his mandibles. "You talked about something watching us and Palaven burning, but I couldn't make sense out of anything you were saying. Your guard, Lieutenant Vega, didn't seem to be of any real help, either."
"Ah," she said, shifting her weight closer to Vakarian before seeming to catch herself and standing up straight instead. She tucked her hands behind her back and gave him a brief head shake before saying, "You'll have to forgive me, not much made sense to me at the time, either. I barely remember your visit, to be honest. I think …" She paused, and although her armor muted her scent, the tang of human fear and panic reached his nostrils. "I think, in my grief, my mind was stuck building on one catastrophe after another, running through worst-case scenarios, and unable to differentiate between those scenarios and what was actually happening around me." She cleared her throat and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Sparatus, I don't know what, in specific, I may have been 'on about' when you visited."
He flicked his mandibles, something deep in his gizzard telling him there was more to the story than she was letting on. "No ideas?"
She shifted her weight, pulling her arms around to cross them loosely over her chest and dropped a hip. "Only conjecture."
"And would you care to share this conjecture?" He didn't care if his subvocals carried enough attitude to earn him a warning growl from the turian standing next to her. Even with his no longer being a member of the Council, Sparatus' station far surpassed the former C-Sec officers, and they were on Palaven, afterall.
"I'm sorry, Sparatus," Shepard said, her voice sugary sweet, and he knew instantly she was taking pleasure in denying him answers. "You no longer have the clearance for that information. Perhaps you should speak to the Council?"
He chuffed, torn between wanting to thump the woman with his cane and applaud her for a game well played. Afterall, he wasn't telling her everything he knew, either, and half of their working relationship was spent with him trying to get her to keep her mouth shut. "Fair enough, Shepard." He smiled despite himself and held his hand out to the obstinate human.
Shaking his hand, she gripped his forearm with her free hand and moved closer to him, invading his personal space. When she spoke, she kept her voice low, and there was enough ambient noise he thought her words might actually stay between the three of them. "I can't give you the details, I'm sorry, I can't, but I have reason to believe the reapers are able to monitor everything that happens on the Citadel. Any communications you send or receive to the Council or anyone else on the Citadel, you need to do so with the clear understanding that there is no such thing as 'a secure message'. I'm looking into it, trying to find a way to fix the problem, but it may be far bigger than anything I or anyone else can take on without making things worse."
His blood ran cold in his veins. Tevos was still on the Citadel, and if Shepard was right—Spirits, who was he kidding, the damned human was always right. Tevos was in danger. He tightened his grip on her hand, refusing to let Shepard pull away. "Commander, if what you're telling me is true, then everyone on that station is in danger!"
"Since when has that mattered, Sparatus?" she asked, but really, there was no bite to her words, only the sound of a very, very tired woman who'd fought so hard for so long. "Did you really think keeping Saren from activating the Citadel Relay meant the Citadel was safe? That it completely removed the Citadel from the reaper's sand table? Please. You're an asshole, but you're not stupid."
Sparatus growled, not even bothering to dampen or conceal the threat, ready to tear into the woman and tell her what for, but Vakarian closed in fast. Before he could make a move against Sparatus, though, Shepard threw her hand out, slapping her palm against his keel. Snarling, Vakarian stopped, but he held his ground, clearly ready for a fight as he stared down Sparatus.
"Don't you growl at me," Shepard said, the words coming out as a hiss. "Not after the hell you put me through and the shit I sacrificed to keep you and the rest of that farce of a council safe. You have no idea what I've gone through. What I'm still going through trying to save this goddamned galaxy from itself. Growl at me like that again and so help me God, Sparatus, I will put you on your ass right here, right now, in front of the primarch and everyone else watching."
"Commander? Is there a problem?" Fedorian's subvocals screamed alarm, which undoubtedly meant everyone else was, in fact, watching—but Sparatus didn't dare avert his gaze to be sure.
"If you want to keep people on the Citadel safe," she said, her voice only marginally softer, "you'll listen to me for once in your life and be rational about this until I can figure it out. If you're not going to help, then it's at least past high time you stay the hell out of my way." She pried her hand free from his, and he didn't resist. Turning to glance over her shoulder, she waved at Fedorian before calling out, "No, no problem. Just tying up a little Council business with our retired councilor, here." She glanced back at Sparatus, "We good?"
Swallowing, he dipped his head. Spirits, but she could be terrifying when she wanted to be. Still, she had a point …. "Shepard?" he called after her as she started to walk away. When she stopped and looked at him again, he flicked his mandibles and said, "What can I do to help?"
~69696969~
Adrien wasn't sure exactly why Fedorian chose him to serve with the Spectre, but his wasn't the place to ask. The human had quite the service record, and, Adrien had to admit, he could see himself quite content working with the commander. Interestingly enough, Fedorian stated Shepard insisted she'd only welcome Adrien aboard if it was something he chose and not something he was ordered to do. Still, it was clear Fedorian wanted Adrien on the Normandy, so the Normandy was where Adrien intended to be.
Packing the rest of his gear into his footlocker, he glanced around the bedroom once more, making certain he wasn't leaving anything important behind. Satisfied he had everything he needed, he turned to sit on the edge of the bed and opened his omni-tool to place a call.
The moment his son's face appeared on the screen, Adrien nodded his head, offering his boy a smile. "Tarquin, I've been called to serve offworld. Unfortunately, it was short notice, so I don't have time to see you in person before I leave."
"Where will you be?" Tarquin asked, head tilting to the side as he offered the concession, "That is, if you can say."
"The Primarch suggested it would benefit the Hierarchy if I agreed to be reassigned to the Normandy to work with Council Spectre Commander Shepard in preparation of the reapers' arrival." Adrien flicked his mandibles, once again finding himself amused by the human's caveat. "She insisted it be my choice and not an order, but of course, who among us would refuse to serve, however the primarch saw fit."
Tarquin glanced over his shoulder before tuning his attention back to Adrien, mandibles fluttering softly as he lifted a brow plate. "Do you want to refuse?"
Adrien chuckled and glanced around his sleeping quarters once again. "No, I don't suppose I do."
"Spirits guide you, Father." Tarquin nodded, a grin lifting his mandibles wide. "Let me know if the commander decides she has room for one more."