A bit more of Saren, just because he's so fun to write.
The events of this chapter take place after Shanxi but before Lindor (and Part 1 of the story).
I'm jumping between POVs a little—sorry about that!
Three months after Shanxi
Shepard moved under the bright, unforgiving fluorescent lights of the Arcturus Station, his expression grim. His daughter and Captain Alenko walked alongside him, their steps matching his purposeful stride.
Katie knew the admiral's heart was heavy with recent losses on Shanxi. The cost of this war was getting higher by the minute, and her father was willing to explore any avenue for peace, no matter how difficult. Even if it meant meeting with a Council envoy, a turian no less.
A knot tightened in her stomach when they approached the guarded entrance of the briefing room. She had only seen turians in vids—Alliance propaganda reels and the occasional Citadel chronicle, now making their way into their space. Part of her was curious, but mostly she felt wary. These were the aliens responsible for so many human deaths. The stories of their brutality and ruthlessness swirled in her mind, making her palms sweat.
The guards at the doors snapped to attention as admiral Shepard came closer, their posture rigid with respect and a hint of nervousness.
"At ease," he said gruffly. "Is the Council representative here?"
"Yes, sir," one of the soldiers answered sharply. "The Spectre arrived ten minutes ago. He's waiting inside."
"Very well." He turned to Alenko, "Let's see what their Council has to offer."
"Sir," Kaidan answered.
Shepard then glanced at his daughter who gave him a warm encouraging smile. "Good luck, admiral," Katie whispered, gently squeezing his arm.
The admiral nodded at her, then gestured for Alenko to follow him inside. As the doors closed behind them, Katie felt a wave of anxiety wash over her.
When the Alliance had first made contact with the Citadel, it gave her hope that the nightmare could finally come to an end. But the war dragged on relentlessly without any sign of resolution. It was only when Shanxi took so many lives that the tide began to turn. The devastation of the battle left its mark on everyone, humans and turians alike. Across the stars, on ships and colonies, in homes and barracks, the whispers of peace grew louder than the cries for vengeance.
Soldiers and civilians bore the scars of prolonged conflict, their emotional and physical wounds intertwined. Captain Alenko was no exception.
Katie couldn't help but think of the deep lacerations that ran down Kaidan's face, the raw, inflamed skin bearing silent witness to the horrors he had encountered on Shanxi. She remembered the moment she first saw them, struck by the chilling realization of how close he had come to death. It was a miracle the captain had survived.
Since his return from Shanxi, Alenko had become quieter and distant. It pained her to see him retreat into himself, an invisible wall growing between them. She couldn't begin to understand the depth of his trauma—she hadn't stood on that orange soil, watching her comrades fall around her.
The thought of Kaidan's best friend, Williams, filled her with a deep sense of sorrow. She had always enjoyed their jabs and the easy camaraderie between the two."We survived so many battles together that for one of us to die alone would be a cosmic joke,"Williams would always say with a chuckle."We are cursed, me and Kaidan. We'll fall just as we serve—together, on some distant world, heroically, fighting the good fight."
That was not what had happened.
Kathreen couldn't bring herself to ask Kaidan about Ash. She didn't want to pry, to intrude on his pain. But the silence between them was deafening, and the gap was growing wider by the day. She didn't know how to help him, how to bring him back. All she could do was hope that somehow, he would find his way.
She wondered if it was a good idea for her father to take him to a meeting with a turian. True, the Spectre was a peacekeeper and technically had nothing to do with the Hierarchy, as he was the agent of the Citadel Council. But he was a turian nonetheless. Would Kaidan be able to hold himself together in a room with him?
Shepard and Alenko walked inside, their eyes were immediately drawn to the imposing figure standing by the screen of the briefing room. Bulky and angular, covered in a light combat suit, the turian cut an intimidating silhouette against the starry backdrop of space. He was taller and broader in shoulders than most of his kind. One part of his body glowed with an otherworldly light, and only as they came closer did Kaidan understand what it truly was. The turian was missing a limb that was replaced by a cyber-prosthetic.
As the Spectre turned to face them, Kaidan couldn't help but flinch. The alien face was eerie, its exaggerated lines and harsh angles haunting enough to linger in a human's mind forever. Turians were already scary creatures, but this one...
The Spectre's one eye was pale grey, lifeless, whereas the other glowed with a strange blue, same color as the connectors on his artificial arm. Also a prosthetic.
The captain couldn't help but wonder if the Council had sent this thing to the human station to intimidate them into submission. No one in their right mind would think someone this creepy could be considered a peacekeeper.
The turian measured the Alliance officers with his dead predatory eyes, clearly not impressed. Kaidan noticed that his flat alien nose took in the air as if he was sniffing something, the avian stare shifted to the doors they had just passed through.
His attention wavered briefly. Refocusing on the humans, the envoy addressed them with a characteristic dual-toned inflection, "Admiral Shepard. I am Saren Arterius, Spectre and representative of the Citadel Council."
"Spectre," Shepard acknowledged stiffly. "Welcome to the Arcturus Station. This is captain Kaidan Alenko."
Saren didn't even look at Kaidan, his eyes boring into the only person he believed to be significant enough to be worth his time. Or at least what passed for something worthy around these parts of the galaxy.
"I must say, I'm surprised you agreed to this meeting," he drawled. "I was under the impression that humans were too... prideful... to consider negotiation."
Shepard's jaw tightened. "The Alliance is willing to explore all options to end this conflict, Spectre," he said. "We're not as unreasonable as you seem to believe."
"That's what you say," Saren's mandibles flared wider. "Tell me then, admiral—what are you prepared to offer in exchange for peace?"
The admiral's eyes narrowed. "We're here to discuss terms, Spectre Arterius. Not to grovel at your feet."
Saren chuckled, the sound grating and inhuman. "Oh, come now, admiral. Surely you understand your position. Your species is young, untested. You stumbled onto the galactic stage like children playing with their parents' weapons."
Kaidan felt a surge of anger at the turian's words, but he forced himself to remain silent, his face a mask of neutrality.
Shepard took a deep breath and responded in a tight voice, "We may be new to the galactic community, but we've proven ourselves more than capable. Our people have fought bravely—"
"Bravely?" Saren interrupted, mocking. "Is that what you call it? You've thrown countless lives away in a war you cannot hope to win."
The admiral's face flushed with anger. "We didn't start this war, Spectre. Your people attacked us without provocation!"
Saren waved a dismissive hand, his cybernetic arm whirring softly. "Details. The fact remains that you are outmatched, outgunned, and out of your depth. The Council sent me here as a courtesy, nothing more. Personally, I believe humans are too weak as a species to be granted a place in the galactic community."
Alenko couldn't contain himself any longer. "With all due respect, Spectre," he said, "if we're so beneath you, why are you even here?"
Saren's gaze finally flicked to Kaidan, his eyes cold and calculating. "I'm here because the Council believes in giving even the most... primitive... species a chance. Though I must say, I find it hard to see the potential they seem to think you possess."
Shepard stepped forward. "If you have no intention of engaging in good faith negotiations, then I believe we're done here."
"So quick to anger," Saren smirked. "How typically human. Very well, admiral. Consider this meeting a warning. The Council's patience is not infinite. Either you learn to play by galactic rules, or you'll find yourselves isolated and irrelevant."
The admiral's face was a storm of emotions—anger, frustration, and a deep, gnawing worry for the future of his people. "We're done here."
With a final glare at Saren, Shepard turned on his heel and stormed out of the room with Kaidan following.
As the doors slid open, they saw Kathreen waiting anxiously in the hallway.
"Admiral?" She didn't expect them to be done so soon. "How did it—" she began, but the words died on her lips when she saw their expressions.
"I trust your ship is ready to take you back, Spectre?" Shepard asked not even looking at the turian. He clearly couldn't wait for the guest to leave, and Katie felt her heart sink.
"Need to refuel." She heard a smug dual-tone voice, low and scary.
And then she saw him. A turian, but one unlike any she'd encountered in vids. He scarcely resembled a living thing, appearing more synthetic than organic. Gleaming blue metal snaked up his arm and across his shoulder, pulsing with light. His entire left side seemed to have been replaced with machinery. Likely the cybernetic implants common in Citadel space.
The envoy walked slowly, his whole posture composed and relaxed, like he were not a turian on a human station in the midst of a war. As he trailed behind the admiral, the turian suddenly froze, his senses seemingly picking up a whiff of something in the air. His gaze darted towards her.
Katie felt a sudden rush of panic. His eyes were like nothing she had ever seen before. Was he even alive? Could anything be alive with eyes like that? She shuddered at his gaze that lingered on her for what felt like an eternity, unable to look away.
"Kathreen," Alenko called her, gesturing to come with him.
She blinked, as if Kaidan's voice snapped her from the paralyzing state.
"May I inquire as to how long it will take?" Shepard asked Saren with fake courtesy.
Saren watched her walk past him. She stepped into the elevator with Alenko, and only after the doors slid shut did the turian turn his attention back to Admiral Shepard.
"Believe me, Admiral," Saren spoke, "I have no intention of prolonging this visit beyond what's absolutely necessary."
"Would you prefer to remain in guest quarters while you wait, Spectre Arterius?" Shepard asked. He hated having to offer the turian anything but a swift kick, yet the rules were clear. Saren was still the Council representative.
Arterius appeared amused by the suggestion. "That won't be necessary. I don't want to take advantage of yourhospitality," he said, emphasizing the last word in a mocking tone that made the Alliance officer wince inside. "Or trespass."
Trespass, Shepard thought. The bastard refused just to taunt him further. In fact, Shepard would prefer him confined to quarters, and Saren knew it. So, of course, all the Spectre wanted now was to roam the station unimpeded, making the crew uneasy for his own amusement and poking his flat nose where it didn't belong.
"Very well," the admiral grunted through the teeth.
"Don't let me keep you," Saren mused. "I'm sure you have better things to do."
Shepard didn't answer. He signaled one of the guards to keep an eye on the Spectre. The soldier swallowed nervously at the sight of the cyber-augmented freak.
The admiral cast a final look at Arterius before turning and leaving the deck, his steps heavy with frustration. He did have things to do.
Saren scoffed at the pathetic excuse for a soldier in the hallway that was supposed to shadow him while on the station. A feeble creature hiding its shivers behind its armor.
This is going to be entertaining, he thought, as he was striding the corridors searching for the scent—a sweet, earthy aroma that made his fringe tingle.
In the elevator, Alenko placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
She nodded, trying to steady her breathing. "I'm fine. Thatthingis a Council Spectre?"
Kaidan's eyes hardened. "It appears so".
"What happened in there?" she asked.
Alenko sighed heavily. "I think it was a test. The Council was gauging our resolve. The Spectre made it clear they are not willing to intervene unless there is a good reason to. And even then, any peace would come with steep concessions on our part."
"So what now?"
"Now, we keep fighting," he said wearily. "And hope that cooler heads eventually prevail. But Kathreen..." He turned to face her, his expression serious. "Stay away from that turian. There's something not right about him."
She nodded.
As the cabin doors slid open, she turned to him. "I'll be on the observation deck."
Alenko hesitated, his mouth parting as if to speak—perhaps to offer to accompany her—but he stopped himself. The flicker of emotion vanished, replaced by his usual formal demeanor.
"I'll head to the command center," he gave her a curt nod.
She smiled faintly, then stepped out without another word.
The elevator doors closed with a sharp hiss. The corridor was quiet, save for the soft echo of her steps and the faint noise of the air filtration systems. The meeting weighed on her, its failure heavy in her chest, but it was the Council's chosen peacekeeper that unsettled her the most.
She pushed through the door to the observation deck, walked to the central bench and sank down, wrapping her arms around her legs, as she gazed out at the stars, their distant light always offering her comfort. The vast expanse of space stretched out before her and she wondered about the many races that inhabited this galaxy, and whether humanity could truly find a place among them.
She thought of the batarians, a species that couldn't seem to play along with the others. Living in constant disagreement with the Citadel and simmering hostility towards its community, most batarians were willing criminals, involved in unsavory activities such as drug and slave trafficking. She had heard about their raids on distant human colonies, the atrocities that happened there.
She didn't want the same fate for her people—becoming irrelevant, isolated, and bitter. The thought of humans resentful, cut-off, and turning to darkness made her shudder. There had to be a better way, a path to peace and cooperation. But after today's meeting, that path seemed more distant than ever.
"You must be very young by your species' measures," a sleek, dual-toned voice interrupted her thoughts.
She spun around—and froze.
There he was. Ashy-gray plating, one eye lifeless gray, the other gleaming with an unnatural blue. The dim lighting of the observation deck reflected off the cybernetics woven into his frame, amplifying the sense of menace.
Too close.
The sharp scent of metal and something foreign invaded her senses.
For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. The vast, distant stars beyond the glass seemed almost warm compared to the chilling creature standing before her.
"What?"
"The stars," Saren said simply, gesturing to the glass behind her.
Now that he was close enough, the Spectre observed the human female with a scrutinizing gaze. Her eyes were violet—a hue he'd never before encountered in any species. The scent coming off her was... intriguing, to say the least. Different from other humans, it carried whispers of something more.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Her courage amused the Spectre; he could hear the rapid pounding of her heart, a rhythm that betrayed her fear.
"What about them?"
Saren's voice rumbled in response, "Only the young and foolish find them fascinating. You live long enough, you know those stars are long-dead and indifferent. And they all look the same."
She took a cautious step back. Distance wouldn't protect her, not from the interest he felt growing within. "So, you're either young or delusional." His tone was mocking as he stepped in front of her, trapping her against the observation screen. "Probably both."
Her chin lifted, defiance flashing in those strange eyes. "Maybe you've just forgotten how to appreciate beauty."
Saren barked out a laugh, "Beauty? In this universe? How quaint. Tell me, little human, what do you think you're doing here? Playing at diplomacy?"
"I'm here to learn," she replied, voice steadier than her pulse suggested. "To understand the galaxy."
"You can barely understand your own planet, let alone the vastness of space." Saren's mandibles flared in a cruel smile. "Your kind is stumbling in the dark, bumping into things others left there."
"We're quick learners," she shot back. "We've achieved in decades what took other species centuries."
Quick learners. A phrase he often heard about humans, but Saren remained unimpressed. "You've done nothing but cause chaos wherever you go. Activating dormant relays, starting wars you can't finish. Tell me, how did that work out for you on Shanxi?"
Her flinch at the mention of the battle did not escape him. A sore point for her people, he knew. "Shanxi was a tragedy, but it doesn't define us."
"A tragedy? Is that what you call it? I call it a wake-up call. And that's the only way your species ever learns. The hard way."
"It doesn't have to be that way," she insisted. "We can work together, learn from each other. We want peace..."
Her words triggered a ripple of disdain within him. "You speak of peace while your people arm themselves to the teeth? While your colonies push further and further into space that isn't yours to take? Your hypocrisy is astounding."
The violet eyes flashed. "And what would you have us do? Curl up and die? We have a right to exist, to explore—"
"You have a right to nothing," Saren snarled. "The galaxy doesn't care about your rights or your dreams. It will crush you without a second thought."
To his surprise, she didn't back down. "Then we'll fight back. We'll adapt. That's what humans do."
A flicker of unease stirred within Saren—annoyance? No, something more layered."Fight back against forces you can't even comprehend? You're more delusional than I thought."
"Maybe. But I'd rather be delusional and trying to make a difference than cynical and complacent."
The Spectre growled softly. The admiral's daughter had a mouth on her. Her fear, though evident, was overshadowed by a stubbornness he found somewhat curious. "And what difference do you hope to make? You, a fledgling who's barely left her homeworld? Do you think your untested resolve is enough for the horrors of the galaxy to disappear?"
"No," she said. "But a dialogue wouldn't hurt. Shouldn't we at least try to understand each other? That's why peace talks are so important."
"A few diplomats sitting around a table can never erase the blood that's been spilled and lives lost."
"It's a start. We have to begin somewhere."
The Spectre studied her, a new wave of curiosity taking over. He found himself wanting to push further, to see how far he could go before she broke.
"Tell me, Kathreen Shepard, what do you know of true horror? Of watching entire species be extinguished? Of seeing civilizations crumble to dust?"
The use of her full name had the desired effect. The human cheeks flushed with color.
"What do you know of the Rachni Wars? And then, the Krogan Rebellions?"
"I... " she blinked, momentarily thrown by the shift in the conversation. "Nothing."
"Exactly," Saren's smiled condescendingly. "And yet they tore the galaxy apart. Billions dead, entire worlds reduced to ash. And do you know why?"
She remained silent, trying to decipher his intent.
"Because the Council, in its infinite wisdom, thought it could uplift a species before it was ready. They gave the krogan technology and power they weren't prepared for, and the galaxy bled for it." Saren's voice was low, intense. "Now here you humans are, inexperienced but demanding to be treated as equals. Can you not see the parallels?"
She frowned, processing his words. "But we're not krogan. We don't want to conquer, we want to cooperate."
"Oh, you say that now. But we both know what happens when you realize the galaxy doesn't bend to your will. Where were your ideals of peace and cooperation when the Relay 314 Incident happened?"
"That's not fair," she protested. "We were attacked without provocation!"
"Without provocation?" Saren pushed further. "You activated a dormant mass relay, breaking one of the most fundamental laws of Citadel space."
"We've never even heard of the Citadel or its laws!"
"Precisely my point," the Spectre declared with satisfaction.
He watched the female for a long moment, as though deliberating something far beyond their verbal sparring. The intensity of his gaze made her feel exposed, stripping away her defenses layer by layer.
"Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" she finally asked, shivering from the cold dead stare.
He tilted his head to the side.
"Not really. Still some time till my vessel is ready."
The Spectre stepped closer. He wasn't saying anything else, just staring. His nose drew in the air. The pale grey and pulsing blue of his eyes were fixed on her violet. The silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive.
"Humans," he rumbled. "You are a strange bunch."
Her throat constricted involuntarily. He was so close now she could feel his heavy breath. "We're not so different from turians."
Saren laughed. "Oh, you are indeed a naive little thing. We are nothing alike." His cybernetic hand flexed, making a menacing mechanical sound. "Your kind is soft, fragile. You wither and die so quickly." His eyes raked over her form. "Turians are forged in the crucible of war. We are built to last."
Another spark of defiance in the strange human eyes. "Is that why you rely so heavily on machinery?" she countered, pointing to his implants. "Doesn't seem very lasting to me."
For a moment, Saren's gaze flashed dangerously, but then his mandibles spread wide, exposing sharp teeth in a predatory grin. "Oh, I do like you," he purred. "Such fire. Tell me, are all human females so... spirited, or are you special?"
She took an instinctive step back, unnerved by the hungry look in his eyes, and pressed against the cold surface of the observation glass.
"Are you lost, Spectre?" a firm voice interrupted, drawing both their attention.
Saren turned, his gaze landing on the human captain he had met earlier. Alenko, was it? He'd caught the male's stench some time ago, but the female's presence had clouded his senses. Saren didn't like that one bit.
"Not at all," the Spectre drawled. "The admiral's daughter and I were simply discussing the merits of peace."
"Shouldn't you be on your way out?" Alenko asked with steel notes in his tone.
"Funny. The admiral's pup asked the same thing. I'm getting the impression I am not welcome."
"You really are not," Alenko responded, standing tall despite the height difference that favored the turian. His anger was evident in the not-so-subtle signs—the tightened jaw, the clenched fists, the slight tremor of the facial muscles.
Saren uttered a trilling sound, low and threatening, accepting the challenge, and turned to face the human. "I understand that you two are new to this whole inter-galactic relations thing, but surely you know that as an envoy of the Council, I enjoy full freedom on this station."
"No, you do not," the female's voice surprised them both.
They looked at her as she stepped forward to stand next to the captain.
"You keep reminding us, Spectre, that humanity is not a part of the galactic community," she continued raising her brow fur. "As such, we are not bound by Citadel laws. We are still at the fringes, are we not? The Council regulations, including the ones concerning the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance agents, do not apply here." Her voice was getting more hostile as she spoke, her violet gleaming with a fire that seemed to pique Saren's interest even more. "So you see, you are not enjoying anything here. You are merelyallowed. All you have is what my father graciously gives you."
Saren's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the mask of indifference slipped, revealing a glimpse of something darker beneath.So disobedient and insubmissive.He uttered a low growl, instinctively warning the female to be careful; his tolerance for defiance was not without limits.
She flinched at the sound. It was utterly alien, unlike anything she'd ever encountered. For Alenko, however, the noise was all too familiar.
"Careful there with your grumbles, Spectre," the captain warned. "You are still a turian, and on a human station. Things can happen. Wouldn't want to cause an incident, would we?"
Saren pulled his mandibles back, baring his teeth in a sharp display of aggression. The audacity of these humans to challenge him so openly was infuriating. Yet it wasn't the male's feeble posturing that truly got under his plating—it was the female. Her mere proximity stirred something deep within him. Not anger, no—something more primal that set his blood on fire.
The Spectre made an effort to compose himself. His demeanor shifted, jaws twitched back into place, the aggressive edge melting into a smug, knowing smile. Saren's eyes narrowed, focusing on the prominent scars across Alenko's face.
"That's an interesting mark you have there, Captain. A souvenir from Shanxi, perhaps?"
"What of it?" Alenko spat. The words clearly found their target.
Oh, this is just too good.
"I'm merely impressed a human managed to survive a close encounter," the Spectre said with false admiration. "And judging by the placement, the odds of that were minimal. So something else must have happened…"
Alenko clenched his fists.
"I'd wager you were running away at the time. Smart move, really. Everyone knows humans are woefully outmatched in hand-to-hand combat with a turian."
The human flushed with rage, "You son of a—"
"Captain," the admiral's daughter cut in sharply, grabbing his hand before it reached the sidearm. "He's not worth it. Let it go."
Saren watched the scene with amusement. "Yes, listen to the pup," he taunted. "Wouldn't want to cause an incident, would we?"
He turned back to the female, forgetting about the human male momentarily. "You never answered my question. Are you special among your kind?"
"I don't see how that's relevant."
"Oh, but it is," Saren drew. "Your scent... it's quite unique. And those eyes..." His taloned hand reached out as if to touch her face.
Alenko went pale at the sight of the turian leaning into her, but before he could react, the air crackled and lit up with purple. Biotic energy flared around her, a fierce response to the threat she sensed. And for a moment, Saren was caught off guard. His eyes widened slightly, not in surprise but in keen recognition of what he had sensed all along.
"Ah," he rumbled with newfound intrigue. "A biotic."
The pieces clicked into place: the subtle undercurrent in her scent that drew him in was raw power. She wielded it effortlessly, without any visible aid of amplifiers. One of those human mutants, perhaps. That would explain her eyes. A rare thing indeed.
"So much power for someone so small. How... fascinating."
He inhaled deeply, the odor of the primal force mingling with the delicate notes of her humanity. Such strength wrapped in the guise of vulnerability was a paradox that only intensified the strange sensation within. And in that instant, he realized with unwavering clarity: she would be his. It wasn't just a desire—it was an inevitability, as certain as the stars. There was no turning back now, not for either of them. But even in this revelation, Saren knew this was neither the time nor the place.
"That's enough," Alenko growled, stepping between her and the turian. His hand hovered near his gun, ready for any sudden moves. "Back off, Spectre. Now."
Saren held up his hands in a placating gesture, but his eyes stayed fixed on the female. "I meant no offense. Merely scientific curiosity."
His good eye grew darker, his fringe narrowed, muscles flexed underneath his light armor when he drew her in one last time, committing the scent to memory, settling on his mark.
"If you'll excuse me," he smiled, "I believe my ship should be ready by now. Spectres have more pressing matters than to entertain humanity's childish delusions of peace and their place in the galaxy."
And with that, he left the observation deck in large, determined strides.
Saren's cybernetic hand clenched and unclenched rhythmically as he navigated the long corridors of the station. The meeting with the human admiral had been a fruitless exercise, but it had served its purpose in keeping the war alive and thriving. Humanity's pride would eventually be their downfall, and Saren savored the thought of watching them crumble.
But there was something else now. A new objective that made his mandibles quiver with anticipation.
He could still feelherin the air. Those unnatural, electrifying eyes burned in his mind, an image unlike any other.
Saren had never considered claiming a human female before. They were fragile, meowing creatures, too easily broken. Yet there was something about this one that set her apart. Bold and defiant, sure, but what captivated him the most was the untamed power that went beyond what her frail form suggested.
He wanted that power. He longed to tame it, to dominate and mold her to his will, shattering that ridiculous defiance piece by piece. This Kathreen Shepard would be an interesting chase indeed.
As he strode toward the dock, Spectre's mind was already plotting the next move. It would require time and careful maneuvering. But he was nothing if not patient. And in the end he always got what he wanted.
