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Chapter Text

There are teeth on her leg, ripping and tearing at the skin and scraping against the bone. She’s sure she’s screaming, but she can’t hear it. Blood is rushing in her ears. Her hands are shaking violently as she reaches for the assault rifle on her back, searching for the gun that’s saved her life many times already. If she can just get this thing to drop her.

Except her gun’s not there, the clip on her back is empty, she’s going to die.

She’s going to die, she’s going to die, she’s going-

Jane Shepard opens her eyes with a lurch, almost throwing herself off the mattress. She’s drenched in sweat, beads of it running down her face and her shirt sticking to her back with it; she’s breathing like she’d run ten kilometers with another marine on her back.

Shepard sits up and sets her feet on the floor, head in her hands. She forces herself to take slow, even breaths until she finally feels her heartbeat begin to slow to a normal rate.

Slowly, awareness of her surroundings begins to trickle back in. The room is quiet. The floor is cold. It’s dark, the whole room cast in deep shadows with only a few dim lights along the floor. No one else is awake; she hasn’t woken anyone with her thrashing.

The last is an immense relief. They haven’t even left port yet; she doesn’t want scuttlebutt already whispering about the XO having nightmares. Odds are everyone will find out in time, but Shepard isn’t eager to share.

Shepard opens her omnitool and checks the local time. Just past three in the morning, too early for any sensible person on station time to be awake. She’s been on Arcturus’ schedule herself for a few weeks now, enough to grow used to it, but she knows entirely too well that dreaming of Akuze guarantees she won’t get any more sleep.

She pulls her boots out from their place tucked beneath her bunk and yanks them on and knots the laces tight, then digs through her bag until she feels the soft material of her favorite hoodie buried beneath her fatigues. She pulls it on as she slinks out of the bunk room by the dim lights.

It’s cooler out in the hall, and Shepard curls down into the warmth of her hoodie and shuffles toward the mess. There are only a few emergency lights, considering both the early hour and the fact that most of the crew hasn’t even arrived yet. Even the gentle hum of the ship’s engine is missing.

Shepard has lived on a ship almost her entire life, so there’s an instinctive uneasy feeling she gets without the noise of a ship in motion. She keeps an apartment on Arcturus but is rarely there, and she never feels quite right walking around there either.

The cabinets in the kitchens are in a sad state, and Shepard frowns and pokes around for a few minutes before giving up and taking one of the fancy granola bars, a rare luxury on a navy cruiser. She munches on it as she fiddles with the coffee maker.

By the time the coffee has finally brewed, the granola bar is gone, and Shepard has taken to watching the drip into the pot for lack of anything more interesting happening. If it hadn’t been so quiet, she might not have heard the sound of boots in the distance.

“You going to share?” Anderson asks as he leans against the counter next to her.

She pours him a full mug as an answer then pulls another cup for her out of the nearby cabinet. They drink together in silence for several minutes, and the hot coffee takes the edge off the chill of the ship. Shepard breaths in the steam and wishes she had a few more hours sleep.

The coffee is beginning to dwindle to the dregs when Anderson speaks again. “Bad dream?” he asks with careful lightness. Even in the dark, Shepard can see him watching her intently.

“Yeah,” she says, then changes the subject. “Why are you up so early? Excited?”

He chuckles. “Maybe a little. I’m still on Citadel time; been up for a couple hours already. Got a meeting in a few minutes if you want to join?”

“At four in the morning?”

“He came from the Citadel too.”

Shepard grunts and drains the rest of her coffee. “Let me change,” she tells him and sees him nod as he continues to nurse his own drink.

When she returns, properly dressed and with her teeth brushed, Anderson is finishing washing their mugs, humming to himself as he does. It’s an old Earth song, she thinks, from before First Contact. Her mother used to sing it too.

He sticks the mugs on the drying rack and turns to Shepard as he’s wiping his hands dry. “Ready?” he asks, with that warm smile that’s always been able to put her at ease.

They leave the dim interior of the ship to the bright docking bay outside, and Shepard has to take a minute for her eyes to adjust to the harsh lighting. She notices Anderson blinking quite a lot too as he leads the way over to the tram station.

The tram that arrives is empty, so Shepard leans against the wall as Anderson directs them to the commercial sector. Within a few seconds, the docks are out of sight, and they’re zipping through the station interior. They only meet a few other trams, mostly filled with people in uniform like them or the fancy clothes of administration. Most civilians are still at home in bed right now.

“So who are we meeting so early?” Shepard asks as she watches the walls flicker past through the tram windows.

“One of the backers or something?”

“Not exactly,” Anderson says. “He’s a turian, but the Hierarchy didn’t send him. He’s a Spectre; he’s coming along to oversee the Normandy’s first flight.”

Shepard is surprised. Of all the answers, she definitely hadn’t been expecting that one. “Really? Figured the turians would send one of their people to make sure we’re not screwing everything up and besmirching their name or something.”

Anderson smiles. “From what I hear, he was hardly the model soldier. I can’t imagine anybody in the Hierarchy is happy he volunteered to come along.” It’s not really a surprise to hear he’d become a Spectre then, if he’d struggled under the Hierarchy.

The tram slows and stops, and they step off into the food market. There are only a few restaurants open this early, and from what Shepard can remember, only one of them serves dextro food.

Well, calling it a restaurant is being generous; it’s really not much more than a few barstools and a table packed into a hole in the wall. But when you’re on a human station, there isn’t much demand for dextro foods.

There are only two people inside, the turian tending the counter who eyes them curiously when they enter, and another turian seated at the bar who doesn’t stop eating even as he lifts a hand to them in greeting.

“Good morning,” Anderson says cheerfully as he takes a seat at the bar next to the turian. “Hope you don’t mind, but I brought Commander Shepard along with me. Shepard, this is Nihlus Kyrik. Kyrik, Jane Shepard.”

Nihlus swallows the large bite of food he’d been chewing and gives them both a nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Commander. Anderson speaks very highly of you.” He sounds perfectly friendly, but Shepard doesn’t miss the little wave he gives the turian at the counter, saying he knows them. The other turian nods in return and sidles off and leaves them to their business.

“Thanks,” Shepard says a little tersely. It’s always a bit uncomfortable to hear Anderson has been talking about her; she’s never sure what exactly he’s told them and how much of it she wishes he would learn to keep to himself. “Nice to meet you too.”

He gives her a look she can’t quite read before returning to his meal. Shepard has been around a few turians before, but she still can’t quite parse their facial expressions sometimes. She hopes this is a positive one.

“How are the preparations coming?” Nihlus asks, and he and Anderson quickly devolve into conversation about the ship that Shepard doesn’t have the knowledge or the experience to contribute to.

She settles for propping her head on a hand and watching the passersby through the front door of the shop. It’s almost entirely humans, of course, and most of them in military uniform, but occasionally she spots a turian or salarian as well.

Behind her, she hears Anderson and Nihlus reviewing the flight plan. It’s largely unexciting, an abbreviated tour of the Traverse in order to test the Normandy’s performance, with their first stop being Eden Prime, a colony Shepard has certainly heard a lot about if not ever seen in person.

It’s mostly just a publicity push for the ship itself, as well as the combination of human and turian minds that created it. They’ll parade around and show her off before they get assigned an actual mission. Shepard wishes they could just skip to that part, but she’s never claimed to have a head for politics.

She’s in the middle of tracing the path they’ll be taking through the Traverse when a hand gently touches her shoulder. After her dreams earlier, Shepard tenses more than usual at the unexpected contact but forces herself to relax when she realizes it’s just Anderson.

The two of them leaves the little restaurant while Nihlus settles his bill, and Shepard notices it’s been close to an hour since they’d arrived. Apparently, she’d gone off into her own head more than she thought she had.

Nihlus emerges from the shop after just a few minutes, a bag hanging off his shoulder. “Lead the way,” he says with a wave of his hand, and he and Shepard follow Anderson through the steadily growing crowds and back to the trams.

They attract some attention walking with a turian in a human station, but on a station that’s two-thirds military, any interest is fleeting. Nihlus asks Shepard about Eden Prime, so she tells him what she can, which isn’t much, but admits that she has no actual first-hand knowledge. He doesn’t seem bothered, though, and listens intently as she speaks.

When they arrive back at the Normandy, there are a few techs and engineers huddled around the ship engrossed in something that is definitely out of Shepard’s wheelhouse. Anderson takes a moment to ask for an update before leading the way on board.
The VI registers their arrival in its soothing, monotone voice, and soon they’re stepping onto the bridge.

In the time they’ve been gone, the ship has begun to stir. All the lights are on, a handful of people are milling about in the CIC down the hall, and who Shepard assumes is their pilot is hunkered down in the middle of the flight controls muttering to himself.
Nihlus moseys off down the hall, attracting a few stares as he goes, looking around curiously at everything. Anderson instead turns to the pilot, who doesn’t seem to have noticed their arrival.

“Lieutenant Moreau?” Anderson asks the man, but he doesn’t answer, in fact seeming to sink down even deeper into the ship’s controls.

Anderson raises a brow and glances sideways at Shepard, who withholds a sigh and an eye roll and clears her throat. “Captain on deck!” she yells down the hall and hears more than sees the leap to attention the crew makes.

The pilot, Moreau, lifts his head and looks around, blinking a few times, before he finally cranes his neck up and sees them. He’s not exactly the poster-boy for navy recruitment, sporting an impressive scruff and dressed in a shirt advertising a popular chain restaurant.

“Morning, Captain,” he says with a lopsided grin. “I’d stand and salute, but-” He motions down at his legs with a dismissive wave of his hand, and Shepard glances sideways at Anderson and is surprised to see him smiling.

“I appreciate the thought, Lieutenant,” Anderson says dryly, and Moreau grins, showing his teeth. “What do you think of her?”

“A lesser man might be intimidated,” Moreau says almost giddily, “but luckily, you’ve got the best. She’s gonna fly like a dream with me at the helm.” He glances over at the console with an expression like one off a cheesy romance vid. “I think I’m in love, Captain.”

Anderson laughs. “Glad she’s got your seal of approval, Lieutenant.”

“Just Joker’s fine,” Moreau says with a dismissive wave of his hand. Then he looks at Shepard. “You’re the XO, then? Don’t try to tell me how to fly, and we’ll get along just fine.”

“Right,” Shepard deadpans, and Joker snickers and turns back to his controls. “Nice meeting you, Moreau.”

He doesn’t respond outside of a dismissive wave of his hand, and Shepard shakes her head and follows Anderson into the CIC. All of the crew members are standing at attention near their stations, some fidgeting nervously as Anderson approaches.
“At ease,” Anderson says with a gentle wave of his hand, and the crew falls into a mishmash of various interpretations of what exactly ‘ease’ entailed. The engineers are made immediately obvious from the military-trained.

The oldest man glances down the line then gives Shepard a tiny, wry smile like he’s just made the same observation. She keeps her expression stern but cocks her head just slightly to the side; when the man looks back at Anderson, he’s stifling a grin.

“I’m your captain, Anderson, and this is your XO and leader of our ground team, Commander Shepard.” Several pairs of eyes slide from Anderson’s face to Shepard, and she hates the sudden attention despite the necessity of it. Honestly, if it had been anyone other than Anderson asking her to be their XO, she’d have laughed. Respectfully. “Now, you’ve all been handpicked for this mission, so I trust you all understand how important this is. I expect everyone’s best, and if you aren’t willing to give that, then don’t bother unpacking.”

No one moves, which isn’t surprising. The crew for the Normandy’s first flight had been chosen carefully for those who would support the cause, and they wouldn’t have made it this far if someone, Anderson or someone higher-ranked than him, didn’t think they were worth it.

Anderson looks down the line with the sharp-eyed look Shepard always gets when he disapproves of something she’s done, but after a moment, it breaks into his usual smile. “If you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to voice them to either myself or Shepard. And don’t forget to check in with the medbay before we ship out later. Dismissed.”

Some of the crew immediately slip back to their stations, but a few approach Anderson, including the older sailor who’d caught Shepard’s eye earlier. Anderson quickly zeroes in on him and greets him with a smile and an enthusiastic handshake, which means they’ve probably worked together before. Shepard takes the opportunity to slip away to the back of the CIC.

Aside from Anderson, there’s one other name that Shepard had recognized on the list of the Normandy’s crew, and as she rounds the bottom of the stairs, she catches sight of Doctor Chakwas hauling a large box into the medbay.

Shepard hurries to catch up and forcibly takes the box away before Chakwas can protest; she shuffles it a bit until it’s comfortable then smiles around the plastic corner. “Hey, doc.”

“Ah, Jane,” Chakwas says with a smile that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. “I’m still in good enough shape to carry my own supplies, you know.”

“I know, but what else am I going to use these muscles for if not helping old ladies?”

Chakwas glares. “I’ll show you old,” she sneers, only half joking. “On the exam table, please.”

Shepard does as she’s told and finds that in the few hours that she’s been gone, the medbay has been thoroughly disassembled. A pair of medical officers are stood in the middle of a large pile of medical supplies, looking harried as they sort through everything.

“Who did you let stock this place, Jane?” Chakwas asks as begins rifling through the box that Shepard only now realizes contains her own person belongings. “Honestly, who stores the syringes in the cabinets?”

“If I thought I could do it to suit you, doc, I’d have done it myself.”

Chakwas pauses and pins Shepard with a dirty look. “I’ll let that one pass because I like you,” she says, and Shepard grins. “Now off with you; you don’t need an exam. I’ve had your medical file tattooed on the inside of my eyelids for years now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Shepard says. It’s good to see you again, doc.”

Chakwas’ face softens. “I’m happy to be along, Jane. Now, shoo. Your lieutenant just left to unpack.”

Shepard allows herself to be shuffled out of the medbay with little fuss and heads to the crew quarters at the back of the ship. A few people nod or wave when she passes, mostly the ones that had come aboard yesterday, and she nods back and is grateful no one tries to draw her into a conversation.

Given the nature of the Normandy’s mission, the ground crew had been scaled back drastically from what a ship of its size would carry to only three people: Shepard, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, and Corporal Richard Jenkins. The head marine position had been what had originally brought Shepard on board, at least until Anderson had decided he wanted her for XO.

So instead Alenko had been signed on for it instead, which given the state of his dossier, Shepard is hopeful he’ll be more than adequate for the position. There had been a distinct lack of information from before he had enlisted, but every note since then had been glowing with praise, despite the large medical note about his biotic implants that was boldly displayed right under his name and rank.

Shepard’s record probably has one of those now too after Akuze, some politely worded warning about trauma that had nothing to do with her military record, so Shepard hadn’t given the note more than a passing glance.

She finds the lieutenant elbow-deep in his footlocker in the crew quarters. While Joker had looked like he’d just rolled in off of the streets, Kaidan could have walked right off a recruitment poster: clean-shaven with his hair neatly styled, uniform perfectly pressed, boots shining like new.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” she says, and Kaidan pauses in his organizing and looks up at her. She tries for a friendly smile. “I’m Shepard.”

Kaidan’s eyes go wide. “Oh!” He quickly leaps to his feet and snaps a perfect salute. “Good morning, Commander. Sorry, I didn’t-”

She shakes her head and waves a hand at him. “Don’t worry about it.” She holds out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiles and takes her hand. It’s the only rough thing about him so far, as even his smile and eyes are warm and friendly. “The same to you, ma’am.”

Shepard grimaces at the word. “Just Shepard is fine. What do you think about the ship so far?”

Kaidan hesitates and seems to give the answer actual consideration. “It’s different,” he finally says. “I can definitely see the turian parts of the design, but I think it will work well once everyone gets used to it.”

“The spacer kid in me couldn’t stop staring at the drive core, honestly,” Shepard says and is relieved when Kaidan laughs and seems to relax, the tenseness is his shoulders loosening. She’d always appreciated it when her CO had made an effort to seem like an actual person to her. This wasn’t some secret test to pass, after all, just a conversation.

“Is the captain upstairs?” Kaidan asks. “I’d like to introduce myself.”

Shepard says he is, and Kaidan nods and thanks her. And calls her ma’am again. Damn it.

The Normandy is quieter than any frigate Shepard has ever served on, but there’s still the familiar buzz of the deck as the engines run. She spends the run up to the relay in the cockpit with Joker and the off-hours pilot, an Airman named Carrero.

Joker and Carrero spend the time discussing the ship, most of which flies completely over Shepard’s head, but as they ready for their turn to use the Charon Relay, Joker goes silent and stares out the front window with unblinking eyes. Silently, Nihlus joins them, but Shepard thinks she’s the only one that notices.

He guides the ship in its approach with grave seriousness, completely at odds with the insults and jokes he’d been flinging just a minute before. Now Shepard can see why he’d been chosen to helm the Normandy; he can make her dance.

They hit the relay with only a mild shudder, and Joker and Carrero immediately begin running through a checklist, tossing numbers back and forth until Joker finally settles back in the pilot’s seat and grins.

“Flies like a dream,” he says. “Just like I knew she would. Barely any drift.”

“Excellent,” Nihlus says suddenly, and Joker and Carrero both flinch. They really hadn’t noticed him, then. “Your captain will be pleased.”

He glances at Shepard before he leaves, and Shepard sees Joker watching him go with a scowl. “I think I hate that guy,” Joker grumbles, punching a few buttons with venom.

Carrero snorts. “He gives you a compliment, so you hate him?”

“I hate him because he thought he had to come up here and watch me,” Joker sneers. “Like I’d screw something up if he wasn’t here to supervise. Besides, Spectres are nothing but trouble. They’re like a magnet for disaster.”

“The Council sent him because they helped fund this ship. You can’t blame them for wanting one of theirs keeping an eye on it.”

“You sleep through history class, Carrero? Only an idiot ever believes the ‘official’ story. Right, Commander? Back me up here.”

Shepard rolls her eyes. “Do you have any other reason than your gut?” she asks wryly.

“Hey, bad feelings are an occupational hazard. Saved many an ass through the years, haven’t they?”

And well, Shepard can’t exactly argue with that. Her own can’t help but agree with Joker that there’s some other reason Nihlus is here. A Spectre that had a good relationship with the Hierarchy she could understand, but not this.

Anderson’s voice over the comm stops her from having to verbally agree. “Joker, status report,” he says. “How does she look?”

“Pretty as a picture, Captain. Stealth systems engaged, and green across the board.”

“Good. Find the nearest comm buoy and forward the report to the Alliance.”

“Aye, Captain. Oh, and you better brace yourself.” He scowls. “Think the turian was headed your way.”

There’s a brief pause. Then Anderson clears his throat and says in a tone that’s somehow simultaneously disapproving and amused, “Thank you, Joker, but he’s already here.” Carrero snickers; Joker scowls harder. “Shepard, I’ll meet you in the comm room in five.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shepard leaves Joker and Carrero arguing over Joker’s treatment of Nihlus and heads back through the CIC. All of the stations along the way are occupied now, engineers monitoring every part of the ship. None of them acknowledge Shepard, too engrossed in their own work.

She passes the third member of her ground team, Jenkins, but he is luckily distracted talking with another crew member and allows her to slip by unnoticed. When he’d come on board earlier, Shepard had introduced herself and had quickly realized her mistake. Jenkins knew who she was without prompting and had spent the conversation alternating asking her questions about her career and enthusing about the mission. The latter had been infinitely more bearable.

Nihlus is the only one in the comm room when she enters, flicking through pictures on the screen that Shepard recognizes as Eden Prime. He looks up when the door shuts behind her, and his mandibles flare. “Ah, excellent. I hoped you would arrive first, Commander.”

“Why is that?” Shepard asks hesitantly.

“I’m interested in this world we’re going to,” he motions at the pictures. “The first established human colony, yes? Proof to the rest of the galaxy that humanity is worthy.”

Shepard frowns. “That’s why it’s our first stop. Not really something I’ve ever given a lot of thought to, though. I’m a spacer; I don’t show up in a colony unless something needs to be shot.”

“Of course,” Nihlus says, then nothing else. He turns back to the pictures, and Shepard is left standing there confused. Somehow she gets the feeling they have just had two entirely different conversations.

Luckily, the door opens again, and Anderson arrives. He exchanges a look with Nihlus before turning to Shepard. “I told Kyrik you deserved to be briefed on the full scope of this mission, and he agreed.” Shepard raises a brow. “Our tour isn’t just to test the Normandy; it’s also to test you.”

Shepard freezes. She glances from Anderson perfectly placid expression to Nihlus’ unreadable one, unsure of how to respond to that revelation. Had it been coming from anyone other than Anderson, she would have been instantly on edge. She gives her captain the benefit of the doubt and clears her throat and asks, “What kind of test?”

“That colony we were just talking about, Eden Prime?” Nihlus says. “We’re not just breezing by; we’re picking up a highly classified package. Captain’s eyes only. And yours now. It’s why we needed the stealth systems operational before we shipped out.”

“Okay,” Shepard says slowly. “So what’s so important on this planet that I’m being sworn to secrecy?”

Anderson opens his ‘tool and shows Shepard a slightly blurry picture of some strange, faintly glowing statue. It’s nothing very impressive to look at and she has no idea what to make of it, so she looks up at Anderson expectantly.

“Ancient Prothean,” he tells her, excitement beginning to bleed through his carefully schooled expression. “The last time humanity found something they left behind, it landed us in the middle of the greater galaxy.”

“And started a war,” Nihlus adds unhelpfully.

“But Eden Prime isn’t equipped to study this beacon, so we’ve been assigned to pick it up and transport it back to the Citadel.”

Shepard nods, absorbing the information. That gave another explanation for her small ground team: the less people that knew the true nature of the Normandy’s maiden flight, the safer this artifact would be. “But that still doesn’t explain why I’m being tested,” she says. There’s a heaviness that still lingers over this conversation, something that’s going unspoken as Anderson and Nihlus look at each other.

“You’re being evaluated,” Anderson finally says. “For the Spectres.”

There’s a pervasive silence. Shepard can feel the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickling uncomfortably. A human even being considered for the Spectres was unheard of; humanity is by far the newest addition to the wider galaxy. Most of the other species still regarded their attempts to join the galactic conversation with open derision.

It takes Shepard several attempts to make her mouth form the words, “Why me?”

To her surprise, it’s Nihlus that replies. “I put your name forward,” he says simply, as if he’s discussing the local weather and not her recommendation to join the highest of agents in the galaxy. “I read the reports on Akuze. You showed remarkable strength of will in surviving, as well as an impressive strategic mind. So when the idea of a human Spectre was being debated, I suggested you.”

Shepard stares at him. The palms of her hands are itching furiously as the memories of Akuze come surging forward to the front of her mind. The screaming, the blood, the pleas for help, the sight of fifty dead marines - her comrades - staring accusingly back at her. How dare she survive when the rest of them were so violently killed? How dare she be allowed to live?

It hadn’t been strategy that had kept her alive, only the sheer primal desire to live, to not be violently ripped apart by thresher maws. Whatever legends had been made of it over the last seven years, to Shepard it is still a nightmare that keeps her awake at night. Like it had last night.

Her lack of a verbal response doesn’t seem to have deterred Nihlus. He continues to speak as if Shepard hasn’t gone still as stone in front of him. “Eden Prime will be our first mission together, but there will be more. I will assess your skills for myself and pass what I see on to the Council for them to make the final decision.”

“Despite this, you are still the ground leader. Your mission is to take Alenko and Jenkins and secure the beacon and make sure it gets back safely onto this ship. Nihlus will follow and observe, but will not interfere unless necessary.”

Great. She’d just been thinking that she needed someone constantly watching over her shoulder. It’s almost entirely sheer force of habit to nod and say, “Yes, sir.”

Anderson smiles proudly at her. “Alright, we should be getting close now, so-”

He’s cut off by Joker’s voice over the comm, voice more than a little panicked. “Captain, we’ve got a problem!”

“What’s wrong, Joker?”

“So I linked us into the buoy like you said, and I got this transmission from Eden Prime. You need to see this, Captain; I’ll send it back there.”

There’s a brief pause while Joker works for Shepard to exchange a grim look with Anderson. Nihlus as well is suddenly more alert, spine ramrod straight as he stares expectantly at the screen in the back of the room.

The video is shaky and hard to follow, and it takes Shepard a few seconds to realize it’s a POV shot through a marine’s helmet. But the sound of gunfire is unmistakable. There’s a bright flash of blue light, and the feed shakes violently.

“Get down!” a voice barks, and another marine tackles the owner of the feed before returning fire, crouched protectively over whoever is recording. There’s a Chief badge printed on their armor, just barely legible through the poor quality video.

The Chief disappears, and the person filming wheezes loudly. “Eden Prime is under attack,” they say as they roll over and rise to a crouch. Their assault rifle comes up into frame. “Unknown assailants. Heavy casualties.” A loud barrage of gunfire and the sound of a grenade exploding. “We can’t evac. Need-”

There’s a loud whining sound that grates at Shepard’s ears. The camera goes still before turning up to look at the sky. A large, dark shape is slowly descending on the planet, like some kind of giant hand reaching down. Red light arcs along the outside of whatever it is. Certainly not any ship Shepard has ever seen, but at that size, it can’t be anything else.

Then the battle sounds resume as if they haven’t paused, the shocked marine that’s filming jumping back into action. The rifle they’d been holding limply is raised, but there’s a deafening crack and the video ends abruptly. Shepard winces at the realization that whoever had risked the chance to send word is now dead.

“Nothing else coming in,” Joker says. “Total comm silence.”

“Rewind,” Anderson orders. “That shot of whatever was in the sky.”

Joker obediently does so, and the three of them in the comm room stare at the strange ship in silence. It almost looks like one of those horrifying-looking sea creatures from back on Earth, the ones with all the legs. She can’t remember the name.
“Joker,” Anderson says again, the question obvious.

“Already on it, Captain. Seventeen minutes out. No other Alliance ships in range.”

“Keep the stealth systems on. Fast and quiet, Joker. This mission just got a lot more complicated.”

Chapter Text

It takes less than five minutes for a well-trained marine to suit up. Shepard does it in three.

Jenkins fumbles with his clasps, and Shepard helps him with steady hands. She’s not sure if he’s shaking from fear or adrenaline. Kaidan, meanwhile, dresses calmly and silently before helping Shepard ready Jenkins.

Kaidan is armed with only a pistol and SMG and Jenkins with an assault rifle and pistol. Years ago, Shepard might have gone just as light, but she’s long since decided that she would rather be well-armed than carry a lighter load.

She leaves the sniper rifle behind but takes the rest; they’ll be moving too fast to make much use of it. Her sidearm is severely outdated, but it had been what had kept her alive on Akuze. It hasn’t been far out of reach ever since. The assault rifle is the newest, a present from her mother after her most recent promotion. The shotgun is nothing special but powerful enough to shred a krogan with a well-aimed shot.

“Heads-up has the most direct path to the dig site where the beacon is being kept,” Anderson says. “Follow it as close as you can, but don’t get yourselves shot doing it. Get there fast and in one piece.”

“What about survivors, Captain?” Kaidan asks as the Normandy breaks the planet’s atmosphere. A shudder goes through the whole ship, vibrating the deck beneath their feet.

Anderson’s face is grim as he says, “Secondary, Lieutenant. That beacon is your top priority.” Kaidan’s jaw clenches, but he just nods. Shepard can’t blame him, even if she understands the need to prioritize securing their precious cargo.

“Coming in hot,” Joker’s voice says over the intercom. “Gonna be tight.”

The hatch to the outside opens, and Nihlus leans out, shotgun in his hands and a pistol strapped to his thigh. “I’ll take this one,” he calls over the roaring of the wind. “I can move faster on my own, try and secure us a path.”

With that, he drops out of the ship the last ten feet to the planet’s surface, and as Joker pulls them up and away, Shepard spots the red streaks of his armor disappearing into the nearby tree line.

“Taking us somewhere quieter,” Joker reports as they skim across the tops of the trees and a few buildings.

“Your team’s the muscle,” Anderson yells to Shepard. “Let Nihlus feed info back to you, but otherwise I want total radio silence. We have no idea what we’re facing down there; no need to give ourselves away any more than we already will.” Shepard nods. “Mission’s all yours now, Commander. Good luck.”

Joker sweeps low into a clearing, and Shepard’s the first out. The ground comes up fast and hard, and she rolls as she hits to take the impact. Kaidan lands in a careful crouch behind her with Jenkins not far behind.

They’re up on a tall ridge overlooking the colony, and Shepard takes in the swaths of destruction that have been made as the Normandy pulls away with a rush of hot air. The sounds of gunshots and explosions are loudly apparent despite the distance.

“Shit, this place is wrecked,” Jenkins says mournfully.

“Focus,” Shepard tells him sharply.

They creep their way down the nearby hill with Shepard in the lead, but it’s quiet. Shepard ducks behind a large rock and peers over the top. Still nothing. Someone has to have noticed their ship, but where are they?

She gives the all-clear and waves Kaidan and Jenkins forward, but just as she does, she hears a quiet whirring sound approaching. Shit. “Cover!” she orders, and Kaidan dives behind the nearest rock, landing hard on his stomach with an audible grunt.

But Jenkins is too slow. A pair of drones zoom out of the tress in the distance and immediately open fire. The first few bullets are repelled by Jenkins’ shields, but under the pressure of two drones, they quickly falter and crack.

The next bullets shred Jenkins’ chest.

“Fuck!” Shepard roars and launches herself around the rock. The incendiary rounds aren’t as effective against the drones as they would be human opponents, but one of her bullets must hit something vital because one of the drones is quickly consumed by a ball of flame.

The second is surrounded by the blue glow of biotics, and Kaidan slams the drone hard into a rock. Shards of metal go flying, but Kaidan charges heedless across the battlefield, still glowing with his corona. Shepard runs after him.

It’s too late, though, and they both know it. In the corner of her heads-up, Shepard can see the flashing red of Jenkins’ vitals, the blaring warning that something is deadly wrong.

The front of Jenkins’ armor is riddled with bullets, and Shepard can see the blood flecked on his teeth. Internal bleeding, ripped organs. She swears loudly and resists the urge to kick the nearest rock. Kaidan lowers his head and presses his fists against Jenkins’ ruined chestplate.

“Alenko,” she says, voice rough with emotion. “We need to keep moving.” Kaidan flinches like he’s going to obey, but he hesitates, staring hard at Jenkins’ face with thin lips. “Alenko,” Shepard tries again, softer. “We can’t do anything for him right now.”

Kaidan takes a deep breath. “Right, right,” he says, mostly to himself, then reaches a hand out to close Jenkins’ eyes before standing. He meets Shepard’s eyes with a steely expression. “Aye, ma’am,” he says in a voice without emotion.

The trees they find aren’t enough to constitute a forest, but they make good cover as Shepard and Kaidan slowly make their way along the highlighted path. A few more drones come buzzing by, but they’re both on high alert and make quick work of them.

“Got some burned out buildings here,” Nihlus’ voice says quietly over the link. “And a lot of bodies. I’m not far from the site; I’ll take a quick look and meet you there.”

Shepard resists the natural urge to respond and hears the line go dead again as Nihlus switches his mic back off. She takes a quick glance at the path that’s been marked for them. It winds a bit through the trees to the bottom of the hill, with Nihlus coming in from the opposite side.

The two of them crest a small rise that leads to a steep drop-off into what appears to be a man-made trench, and Shepard quickly ducks low when she spots movement. Kaidan immediately follows her lead, dropping onto his stomach and shimmying up to the crest of the small hill.

It’s a human, probably part of the marine unit that had sent the transmission. They’re running full tilt toward the bottom of the hill, the white of their armor glaringly bright against the dark soil and rocks. Shepard starts to send a signal but raises her gun instead when she spots what’s chasing the marine.

The pair of geth are moving slowly, guns raised and spraying relentlessly after the marine. Shepard falters for a moment at the sight of them; she’d never seen one outside of pictures and vids but there’s no mistaking what she’s looking at.

She hurries to switch her rifle over to disrupter ammo, and in that moment, the marine stumbles and goes hurtling to the ground. Kaidan jerks up onto his knees, pistol raised, but the marine rolls with the fall and winds up on their back, their own pistol in hand. Two shots punch clean through the lamps of the pursing geth.

The synthetics crumple like broken toys, and the marine goes limp on the ground. Shepard quickly scrambles forward toward them with a gesture to Kaidan to watch for more.

Despite the marine’s obvious exhaustion, Shepard is still greeted with a gun pointed at her. She raises her hands and stops moving while the marine registers that she’s human. The muzzle of the gun immediately drops.

“Oh, thank God,” they gasp. “You must have gotten Miller’s message.”

Shepard offers a hand up, and the marine takes it gratefully. They’re several inches taller than Shepard, so it probably winds up looking a little funny. Once they’re upright, the marine snaps a salute.

“Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the two-twelve, assigned to Eden Prime. Thanks for answering our call.”

“Commander Jane Shepard, and that’s Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. We were doing a flyby when we got thetransmission. Are you hurt? Where’s the rest of your unit?”

Ashley’s jaw tightens. “We tried to double back to our base and walked into an ambush. I-I tried to fight, but,” she glances away, “I think I’m all that’s left, ma’am.”

Shit. More memories Shepard hadn’t wanted to recall today. “I know what you’re thinking, Williams, but you can’t save everybody. You’re alive, and that’s what matters.” She gentles her voice as much as she can with the adrenaline still thrumming in her veins.

Ashley’s expression is stony. It’s like looking in a seven year old mirror. “Yes, ma’am,” she says. “Are you guys the ones picking up the beacon?”

“We are. You know where it’s at?” Shepard nods. “Lead the way. I’ve got your six.”

“Aye.” Shepard takes a sharp breath, and now Shepard can see the anger in her, the overwhelming desire to pay back in spades what’s been done to her comrades. Good; anger is better than apathy. “Payback’s a bitch.”

Kaidan falls in at Shepard’s shoulder and tells her he’s spotted another squad of geth lurking around the next bend, near where the dig site is indicated on their map. Shepard counts three from where they hide and motions for them all to take one each.

A Throw sends one spinning off into the air, and Shepard fires a burst of disrupter ammo into the second. Ashley takes a moment to stare down the sights of her rifle before she fires; the back of the geth’s headlamp explodes as the bullet passes through.

They all stay still for several seconds, on high alert, but nothing else moves. “Clear,” Shepard mumbles and hears the others agree.

Down in the bottom of the artificial trench is a round platform that’s clearly alien. It’s been carved from a lighter stone that what surrounds it, the rubble cleared away to reveal what must be the Prothean site.

“No!” Ashley cries, surging forward toward a smaller raised platform in the middle. “It was right here, I saw it! Someone moved it; maybe someone from the camp nearby?”

It’s a long shot, but it’s a better alternative than the geth getting their hands on Prothean technology. Shepard sends off a ping to tell Nihlus something’s gone wrong, then turns back to Ashley.

“Just up the ramps over there,” Ashley says, anticipating the question. “It’s where the workers were staying while they excavated. Alliance set up shortly there after the beacon was found.”

They pass several dead marines as they climb the ramps. Ashley stares at each one as if committing it to memory, a quietly seething rage boiling just below the surface. Shepard can’t bring herself to rush her, even if she knows it isn’t a healthy coping mechanism.

“Got your message,” Nihlus says. “Do what you need to do. There’s a spaceport not far from you. Meet me there.”

The smoke is visible before they reach the top of the ramp, drifting thick and heavy into the sky, and when Shepard sees the camp, she understands why. Most of the temporary housing that had been constructed now lies in ruin, furniture and personal belongings strewn across the ground.

“Oh god,” Kaidan mutters in horror. “What the hell are those?”

She follows where he’s looking to see some strange piece of machinery with a tall spire reaching high above them all. But that’s far from the most concerning part. No, that would be the human-shaped bodies at the top with the sharp point of the spires pierced straight through their chests.

Ashley pulls her rifle off her back and looks up at the bodies through the scope, then grimaces and passes the rifle over to Shepard. The bodies are limp, suspended over ten meters up in the air, and now that Shepard can get a decent look at them, glowing faintly blue.

As she’s passing the gun back to Ashley, Shepard sees one of the bodies twitch. For a moment, she thinks she images it, but then Ashley and Kaidan swear almost in unison.

“They’re still alive!” Ashley exclaims. She sets the stock of the rifle against her shoulder and readies to line up a shot, but the spires sudden begin to withdraw, lowering the squirming bodies toward them all.

Shepard takes a step forward but tightens her grip on her assault rifle. The bodies slide off the points of the spire and fall limply to the ground, and Shepard takes a few more steps toward them. The back of her neck tingles as Kaidan’s biotic corona flares.

The nearest body lunges upward and makes a grab for Shepard. She jerks away instinctively from the attack and gets a better look at the thing’s face. It’s only vaguely human-like now, its flesh a sickly gray color and its eyes a bright, synthetic blue. One grabs for Ashley, who responds with an armored fist to its jaw.

“Did the geth do this?” Ashley asks as the body stumbles back but stays standing. She raises her rifle to hip fire, but the corpse lets out a horrifying shriek and sends out a blast of electricity.

Lights start flashing in Shepard’s helmet as the three of them go flying through the air, a warning that all of their shields are down. She and Ashley land with a clatter of ceramic, but Kaidan almost bounces, the sudden Barrier he’d thrown around himself absorbing most of the impact.

“What the hell?” Kaidan yells, sounding winded.

“Just shoot them!” Shepard roars, rolling over and pushing herself up. “We can figure out what they are later.”

Kaidan grabs the corpses in a Singularity, and Shepard and Ashley open fire. It only takes a second of burst fire from Shepard’s rifle to mow down the bodies, and Ashley systematically puts a sniper rifle bullet through each of their heads.

They all stand there for a moment with their guns raised, breathing heavily. Shepard is the first to step forward to take a closer look at what had once been humans.

“They’re synthetic,” she says as she watches a pale green fluid drip from all three of the corpses. She nudges one with a boot and sees that beneath the ragged remains of their clothes, the source of the blue light they’d seen earlier is coming from inside the bodies.

“What? How?” Kaidan peers down at the remains with a grimace.

“Not exactly my area of expertise, Lieutenant.”

They take a cursory tour of the camp but don’t find anything alive amid the wreckage, not that Shepard had been expecting to. Off in the distance is the spaceport Nihlus had mentioned, and hanging in the air over it is the strange ship they’d seen on the video.

“Any idea what the hell that ship is, Williams?” Shepard asks as they begin to warily pick their way down the nearby hill.

“Not the first clue, Commander.”

There’s movement between some of the shipping containers on the dock, and Shepard quickly motions the others down. They crouch in the shadow of a large rock to count heads. Shepard can see five but expects there’s more hidden among all the cargo.

“Care to get us a view from up high, Chief?” Shepard asks, and Ashley grins and quickly scales the rock.

She settles on her stomach with the scope lined up with the dock and counts aloud. At eight, she stops. Not the worst odds Shepard’s ever faced, especially with a sniper watching over her. So she points Kaidan to the left and takes the right path, and they creep the rest of the way down the hill.

Once she gets a ready signal from Kaidan, Shepard pings Ashley. “You hear me, Chief?” she asks and gets an affirmative. “Drop the farthest one. Alenko and I will take the closest to our position. On my mark. Three, two-”

The blast from her shotgun shreds the geth standing barely two meters away, and she hears the report of two more guns, the quieter of Kaidan’s and the ear-splitting of Ashley’s. Shepard hurries forward and ducks behind a shipping container as the rest of the geth scramble for cover of their own.

One makes the mistake of stepping into Shepard’s line of fire, and she blasts it before relocating again. Stay still too long and the geth will notice where the shots are coming from; best to keep it a surprise.

Another geth goes floating overhead, flashlight head sparking lifelessly, and there’s the sound of Ashley’s rifle again.

“Two left,” Ashley reports alongside the faint sound of a thermal clip being ejected. “Two o’clock, Lieutenant.”

Kaidan fires two shots. “One.”

Shepard hears the last geth rather than sees it, and she motions to Kaidan. They skirt around where the sound is coming from, and on her signal, Kaidan grabs it in a Singularity. The geth flails as it is sucked into the biotic field, clicking anxiously, and Shepard takes its head off.

It’s quiet then, and Shepard stays completely still. After a few seconds, Ashley’s voice says over the comm, “All clear.”

The adrenaline fades, but Shepard doesn’t replace her gun. She comes out from behind the cover of the dock’s wall and checks her corners as she moves to meet Kaidan and Ashley, the latter hopping down the hill with her sniper rifle in hand.

Kaidan is pale when Shepard reaches him, but before she can say anything, he’s pulling a nutrient bar our of his belt and ripping into it with his teeth. By the time Ashley joins them, he’s devoured it in just four bites.

“Can never get used to that taste,” Kaidan mumbles as he shoves the wrapper back into his pocket.

Shepard pings Nihlus again and then sends Ashley and Kaidan out so sweep the rest of the docks while she waits for a response. A minute passes, then another, and still there’s nothing. Shepard does it again, figuring maybe he’d been caught in a fight and hadn’t heard it.

“Commander,” Kaidan calls from nearby, voice grim, “I found Nihlus.”

A cold feeling of dread curls in the pit of Shepard’s stomach, and she hurries toward Kaidan. She finds him standing on the edge of a large splatter of blue blood. And lying in the middle of it is what Shepard had a feeling she’d find: Nihlus’ body.

“Fuck,” Shepard swears violently. She steps forward and crouches down in the blood, reaching a hand out to check for a pulse she doesn’t expect to find.

There’s no flutter of a heartbeat in his neck, and when Shepard lifts his head, she can see the gunshot wound on his right cheek. Nihlus’ face is a wreck with the force of the exit wound; whoever had killed him had shot him in the back.

The sound of boots approaching signals Ashley’s return, and Shepard looks up to see her hauling a human along with her, a hand wrapped tight around his upper arm. She shoves the man forward to stand between herself and Shepard and Kaidan.

“Found him hiding in one of the crates,” Ashley says.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shepard asks sharply.

The man raises shaking hands at her. “I-I didn’t kill that turian, I swear. I got stuck here when those-those things came. I’m just an engineer, see, so I hid and waited. B-but I saw who did kill him! He was with those synthetics.”

Shepard frowns at him. Her first instinct is to call the man a liar, but if he is, then he’s a damn good one. He’s pale as a ghost and shaking almost violently, and he honestly looks on the verge of a complete breakdown.

“Who, then? Another synthetic?”

“N-no. A turian. That one,” the man points down at Nihlus, “seemed to know him. Lowered his gun and talked to him. Called him Saren, I think. So your friend turns his back, and bam, the other turian shoots him. Like it’s nothing. I’m just glad he didn’t notice me.”

“Right,” Shepard says darkly. “Lucky you.”

The man seems to realize what he’s said, and he shrinks down into himself. “I-I know,” he stutters, avoiding Shepard’s eyes. “My friends, the rest of the crew-” He cuts himself off and makes a quiet squeaking sound. “God help me, they’re all dead!”

He looks ready to keel over, so Shepard hurries to ask, “What about the Prothean beacon? I need to find it, or all this will have been for nothing.”

“O-okay.” The man takes a deep breath that doesn’t seem to do anything to calm him, but he points over the nearby railing down at a small railway. “Down there. Those synthetics carried it off before your friend showed up.”

Shepard follows the lines of tracks down to the other end of the spaceport, then says to the human, “I’ll send my pilot over to pick you up when this is over. So until then, play dead.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice; he gives a shaky nod and dives back behind into the maze of shipping containers. Shepard doesn’t wait to see him safely back into his hiding spot before she’s heading toward the nearby stairs that lead down to the little tram.

The clicking is the first thing she notices. She jumps the last few stairs and barely catches a graze on her shoulder. Her suit chimes a brief warning in response.

There’s a railing just tall enough for her to duck behind. Stupid! Of course there would be more geth around; they wouldn’t risk someone stopping them from taking the beacon. She shouldn’t have been caught off guard.
Deep breath. Stop rushing. Rushing gets soldiers killed.

Shepard pokes her head over the railing she’d used as cover just in time to see Ashley shatter its head with a well-placed bullet. The three other nearby geth are turning, clicking loudly. Shepard lines up a shot and fires a burst at them.

They stagger under the spray of bullets and begin to scatter, but a Singularity pulls them all back together until they’re so close together it’s difficult to tell them apart. Ashley fires two shots and Shepard another quick burst, and when the blue glow fades, the geth crumple into a sparking pile.

“My bad,” Shepard says after a beat to make sure they don’t get up again.

“No harm done, Commander,” Kaidan says, smiling.

The three of them move as quickly as feels safe, checking corners but barely hesitating before rounding them. The turian that had killed Nihlus already had a head start on them; the more time they take to catch up, the better chance he’ll get away with the beacon.

There’s only one path to take, so Shepard leads the way across the deck and up the stairs on the other side, taking them three at a time, gun raised and finger set on the trigger. But there are no more geth to be found, and certainly no turian.

A loud roar and a rush of heat from overhead sends them all scrambling for cover, but it’s only the large unknown ship that had been looming over the colony, retreating back into the sky, mission apparently accomplished.

Shepard tears out from under the small overhang she’d found and rushes forward, aware of Kaidan and Ashley close on her heels. They round another bend at the end of the deck and find what they’ve been looking for.

“That’s the beacon!” Ashley cries.

“And that’s a bomb,” Kaidan adds darkly, gesturing.

Shepard swears loudly. “That’s one way to get rid of your evidence. Alenko, can you take it offline?” Run ten miles with a marine on her back, sure. Scale a cliff free-handed, no problem. Unlock anything that’s not her own apartment door, not going to happen.

Luckily, Kaidan just nods and drops to his knees in front of the bomb with his ‘tool open. Shepard motions to Ashley to check the surrounding area just in case the geth had left more than one. By the time the two of them have scouted out nearby, Kaidan is done, sitting back on his heels and pulling his helmet off briefly to wipe at his forehead.

“All clear,” he reports, and Shepard relaxes.

“Great job, Alenko,” she says, then opens the comm line. “Normandy, this is Shepard. We have the beacon.” She watches as Ashley and Kaidan move to look up at the beacon, which is glowing a faint green.

There’s a pause, then a crackle before Anderson’s voice says, “Well done, Commander. What the hell happened down there?”

“Geth, sir. And a turian. Kyrik knew him, apparently, but he shot him-”

The beacon flares bright and seems to grab hold of Ashley, pulling her roughly toward it. She fights against it, arms flailing uselessly with nothing to grab hold of. Kaidan has frozen in shock; Shepard ignores Anderson’s worried question in her ear and rushes forward.

Ashley is pulled bodily off of her feet and into the air, feet dangling almost a full meter off the ground, and Shepard takes a running leap and smashes into her back. Whatever gravity field is holding Ashley grabs her as well.

It’s hard to get enough of a hold, but Shepard manages to wrap her arms around Ashley’s middle and throw her from the suspension, sending her rolling across the platform and mercifully away from the beacon’s grasp.

Before Shepard can manage to feel any sort of relief, however, the pain hits like a shotgun slug to the chest.

It’s like her skull is being ripped open, sharp claws digging deep into the bone and pulling it apart before reaching inside. Nerves all along her body light up like an explosion, and everything burns. It burns. She hears someone screaming faintly and then realizes it’s her.

Whatever is inside her brain is shoving pictures inside, blurry, unrecognizable pictures that imprint themselves into her eyelids like a brand. They’re meaningless images, even without the addled state of her mind, and she tries vainly to grasp hold of them even as they slip away like water.

Then the burning stops. Everything stops.

Chapter Text

Consciousness returns slowly and painfully. Her head throbs with every beat of her heart.

“Doctor Chakwas, she’s waking up!”

Shepard flinches away from the voice and reaches a hand up to press over her eyes. Even with them closed, the light is harsh enough to hurt. Or maybe that’s from her head too.

A hand lightly touches her arm, and Shepard cracks open an eye to see the blurry form of Chakwas leaning over her with a kind smile. “Doc?” she manages to slur, her tongue feeling heavy and useless in her mouth.

“You had us worried, Jane,” Chakwas says, and the lights thankfully dim. Shepard manages to open both her eyes and finds herself staring up at the ceiling in the Normandy’s medbay. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had worse,” Shepard says, more clearly this time. “But not by much.” She doesn’t bother to lie; she’d learned years ago that Chakwas had a sixth sense for when her patients were trying to act tough and the consequences were never worth it.

Chakwas looks relieved. “I’m glad to hear that. I don’t know what exactly that beacon did to you, but it seems to be nothing good.”

“It’s my fault,” someone else says. “I got caught in its pull, and if the commander hadn’t thrown me out of the way, I’d be the one in that bed.”

Shepard manages to sit up and is surprised to see Ashley standing at the end of her bed. She looks tired. And guilty. “It’s not your fault, Williams,” she says. “We had no idea what it was going to do.” And it’s not like Ashley had actually reached out and touched it or interacted with it in any way.

Ashley clenches her jaw and glances away, but she nods.

“There’s no proof that you approaching the beacon is what activated it, Chief,” Chakwas says in that sage tone doctors have that allows no room for argument. “And unfortunately, it is likely we will never know what exactly did cause it.”

“Wait,” Shepard says. “Why?”

“The beacon overloaded,” Ashley answers. “That’s what knocked you out. The LT and I carried you onto the ship, but the beacon is broken now and isn’t responding at all.”

What a way to end her first mission, being carried off the field by her two new subordinates. Shepard makes a sound that’s somewhere between a mortified groan and a sigh and says, “Thanks for dragging my stupid ass back here.”

Ashley cracks the faintest of smiles, but Shepard’s attention is quickly diverted by Chakwas pressing her fingers against her carotid. She’s done this enough times to know the drill, so she stays still and quiet until Chakwas is done.

“Within your normal range,” she reports. “Physically, Jane, you’re the picture of perfect health. But what’s going on in that mind of yours? You had some unusual beta waves while you were unconscious, as well as quite a lot of rapid eye movement.”

“I was dreaming?”

“Intensely. Do you remember anything?”

Shepard shuts her eyes and concentrates, but the only things she can draw out are the images that the beacon had painted inside her skull. They’re vivid but blurry, and trying to pull them into close focus only seems to make it harder. A deep pang resounds in her chest.

“Not much,” she finally admits honestly. “Just some pictures and a feeling of loss and death.”

“Mildly concerning,” Chakwas says dryly.

The door to the medbay opens, and in that instant of distraction, the images slip away completely again. Shepard opens her eyes, frustrated, and finds Anderson approaching. He looks relieved, even if the corners of his eyes are still pinched with tension.

“How’s my XO doing?” he asks with a smile. “Glad to finally see you awake, Shepard.”

Shepard mumbles a greeting, and then Chakwas gives a brief summary of her findings. While her doctor is distracted, Shepard takes the opportunity to slide off the exam bed without Chakwas looming threateningly over her.

Chakwas notices, of course, but doesn’t do anything except shoot Shepard an annoyed frown. “She’ll be fine, Captain,” she says to Anderson as Shepard slowly stretches her arms and back. “She’ll bounce back just like she always does.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Anderson says. “Now if you don’t mind, Karin, Chief, I need to speak with Shepard in private for a few minutes.”

“Some food would do us both good, Chief,” Chakwas says, then steers Ashley bodily out of the medbay. Ashley glances back at Shepard with a look like she wants to say something, but Shepard just motions her along.

Anderson doesn’t say anything until the door is completely shut. When it finally clicks, he turns to Shepard with a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks softly, giving her a careful once-over with his eyes. “Seeing them carrying you back onto the ship might have taken another few years off my life.”

“If that could really happen, I’d have killed you years ago, sir,” Shepard says, and Anderson chuckles. “And I do feel okay, just some pain.” He nods and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder, and she smiles at him. “I’m glad to see we brought Williams along with us.”

“Yes, well, since we lost Jenkins, it seemed only fitting to have her take his place. Alenko vouched for her, and she seemed eager enough to leave Eden Prime behind.”

There’s a dull twinge in Shepard’s chest, both at the reminder of Jenkins’ death and a familiar understanding of Ashley’s own grief.

“Jane,” Anderson says quietly, taking one of Shepard’s hands and squeezing it gently. “Jenkins’ death wasn’t your fault.”

Shepard grimaces. “I know, but it sure as hell feels like it. First mission under me and he winds up dead. Wouldn’t be offended if his family lambasted me.”

“Jenkins was a soldier. He knew what he was signing up for. You carry enough survivor’s guilt to make a krogan’s shoulders shake, so let this one go. Accidents happen.”

“Yes, sir,” Shepard mumbles. His words sooth her grief, if only a little, but it’s nice to hear it from somebody else. “Sorry, I know this isn’t what you had in mind when you said you wanted to speak to me in private.”

“No, but I think you needed it.” He sinks down into Chakwas’ nearby chair, and Shepard takes the one for patients. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it,” he says heavily. “We’re in one hell of a bad spot right now. Kyrik is dead, the beacon is destroyed, and the geth are hostile. The Council is going to want answers, and who knows how much of your story they’re going to believe.”

Shepard bites back a hot surge of anger. “I haven’t done anything wrong,” she says through gritted teeth, “and neither have Alenko and Williams.”

“I know that, Shepard.” The use of her last name drains Shepard of most of her anger. “And I believe what those two told me, but the Council is a completely different beast. Saren, this other turian? He’s a Spectre, Jane, and one of the best.”

The information sucks all the air from Shepard’s sails, and she sags into the chair and curses. Never mind a rogue turian with an army of geth at his disposal, this is a Council Spectre, one with their respect and trust.

Anderson nods grimly. “A rogue Spectre is trouble enough, but this one hates humans too. Might explain why Eden Prime was such a wreck. He thinks we’re a blight on the galaxy.” He rubs at his chin with a grimace. “The only clue we have to his motives is that beacon. What did it do when it grabbed you, Jane? Did it tell you anything that could help us?”

Shepard hesitates, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I-I’m not sure what I saw, honestly. Just some images of synthetics of some sort and a planet, but everything was too fuzzy to really focus on. And,” she glances away at the door to the medbay and remembers what she’d told Chakwas. “This intense feeling of grief. Like I’d lost everyone I’d ever cared about.”

A tense silence settles between them, until Anderson says quietly, “We should tell the Council.”

Shepard snorts and ignores the disapproving frown she gets. “And tell them what, that I had a bad dream? We barely have a leg to stand on as it is, but it will be even worse if I start spouting off about what I saw.”

“That wasn’t a dream, Jane. The beacon showed you something.”

“Do you really think the Council will buy that? It sounds absolutely ridiculous, and not to mention that nobody can confirm it now, not with the beacon unresponsive.”

Anderson clenches his jaw but doesn’t fire back. He rises from his chair and begins to pace, head ducked low against his chest and his shoulders a tense line. “We have to convince them somehow! I know Arterius; he doesn’t care what he has to do to achieve his goals. He has the information from the beacon and an army of geth at his command, more than enough to carve a trail of destruction through the galaxy.”

“Anderson,” Shepard says, but he doesn’t slow in his frantic pacing. He’s going to wear a hole in the nice new deck if he does it much longer. She tries again, sharper. “Captain.” Anderson falters in his steps and turns to look at her. “You don’t do something like this without leaving some evidence behind. All we have to do is find it and hand it over to the Council, and then this guy will have the whole galaxy bearing down on his head.”

“Okay,” Anderson says quietly, then says again more confidently, “Okay. I’ll contact Ambassador Udina and see if he can get us an audience with the Council. We should be just a few hours out by now. Bring Alenko and Williams. All four of us standing together will show a united front.”

Shepard smiles. “Aye aye, sir.”

On the other side of the medbay door, Chakwas is waiting. “Ah,” she says upon seeing them emerge, “am I allowed back in my office now?”

“Sorry, Doc,” Shepard says, but Chakwas just waves her apology away with a small smile and disappears back into her lab.

Anderson heads for his office on the opposite side of the deck, but Shepard makes a beeline for the kitchen. She hadn’t realized until she’d smelled the food just how long it had been since she ate last. The cook piles a plate high for her with a knowing smile before shuffling her away.

She spots Kaidan and Ashley tucked away in a corner together, heads bent low with near-matching haggard expressions on their faces. Shepard considers hiding away in her bunk to eat but decides to be a proper commanding officer and heads over to join them.

Kaidan looks up in surprise when she sets her tray down across from him. “Commander,” he says, not quite a question.

“I’m alright,” she says, and he relaxes. “How are you?”

“A little tired,” he says, sounding honest. “It’s been a while since I’ve run around an active warzone. Nothing a plate full of calories can’t fix, though.” He motions to the tray in front of him, which looks clean enough to stick back in the cabinet.

Shepard’s no biotic herself, but she’s fought alongside enough over the years to know what a drawn-out fight can do to one. And while Kaidan’s L2 implants were inarguably more powerful than the L3s, they also drained the user’s energy more quickly. The fact that Kaidan isn’t asleep in his plate is a testament to his vitality.

“Captain told me we’re still a few hours out from the Citadel. That enough time to recharge your batteries?”

Kaidan smiles. “I can make it work, Commander.” It’s quiet for a moment as Kaidan chugs the last third of his energy drink, then he sets the empty bottle back on the table and looks at Shepard with a serious expression. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are we going to the Citadel?”

Shepard takes her time chewing. Finally, she swallows and leans forward on her elbows and tells the two of them in an undertone, “We’re going to warn the Council about this rogue turian. Doubt they’ll believe us, so Captain is hoping we can dig up something incriminating.”

She doesn’t tell them that the turian they’re chasing is a Spectre or how important it is that they don’t take the blame for Nihlus Kyrik’s death, that they convince the Countil that they did everything they could to salvage the situation on Eden Prime.

“Even though we have the testimony of that dock worker?”

“We’re going to need more than one person backing us up,” Shepard says. Kaidan taps his fingers against the top of the table and glances off back toward the kitchen. “Go get seconds, Alenko. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Kaidan ducks his head, the tips of his ears turning a light pink. “Uh, thirds, actually,” he admits quietly, then slinks off. Shepard stifles a laugh.

It won’t take Kaidan long to return, so Shepard turns to Ashley, who’s been quiet so far and hasn’t really looked up from her own plate of food. “How are you holding up?” she asks, keeping her voice quiet and even.

Ashley’s head snaps up, and she stares at Shepard for a second before dropping her eyes again. “I’m okay, Commander.” It sounds horribly tired and rehearsed. Shepard takes a long drink and chooses her words carefully.

“You’re not,” she says bluntly, and Ashley flinches away and grits her teeth. Shepard watches her reaction carefully. “I’m asking because I know what it feels like, Williams. How are you, really?”

Ashley pushes her food around on her plate for a while; Shepard takes slow sips of her drink and glances over to make sure Kaidan isn’t returning yet. Finally, Ashley speaks, not taking her eyes off her half-eaten plate. “I’ve seen friends die before, comes from being a marine,” she says quietly with a palpable grief that makes Shepard’s heart twinge sympathetically. “But to see a whole unit, my whole unite, wiped out like that, it’s-it’s hard.” She sighs and sets down her fork, clenches and unclenches her hands where the knuckles have gone white. “But it would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t shown up. So thanks for saving my life.”

“That’s what I do,” Shepard says with a half-hearted smile. Ashley’s smile is little more than a pained grimace. “You’re welcome, Williams. I just wish we’d gotten there sooner.”

Before Ashley can reply, Kaidan returns. She quickly stares back down at her food, and he looks at her curiously for a moment before turning back to Shepard. “You know,” he says, “Williams says she’s never been posted on a ship before.”

Shepard’s brows lift high in surprise. “Really?” she asks. “You’re a hell of a shot, Williams. I can’t believe nobody’s poached you for a squad.”

Ashley shrugs. “Today was the first time I’ve been in a live-fire zone in months. Most of the postings I get are boring, colony security mostly.”

It sounds like a waste of a perfectly capable marine to Shepard, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone deserving was passed over for a job. “How long since you joined up, Williams?” she asks, curious despite herself.

“Seven years,” Ashley says. “Enlisted right out of high school.”

Which makes Shepard about four years older than her. Kaidan chuckles suddenly, pulling Shepard from her thoughts. “God, you make me feel old, Williams,” he says. “I hate that it happened this way, but you’re finally in the air.”

Shepard knows that Kaidan and Jenkins had been friends before being assigned to the Normandy, having served together on an assignment before, but sitting here now smiling genially, there’s no sign of grief in his expression. He’s very successfully buried it deep.

“Yeah,” Ashley says, finally smiling a little. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Anderson leads the way on board the Citadel in his dress blues, and Shepard, Kaidan, and Ashley follow in their fatigues. It’s obvious from Ashley’s face as she looks around that she hasn’t ever been here before. Kaidan, however, takes it all with what seems to be his usual calm.

Shepard, who had been here only enough times to count on one hand, still finds it pretty overwhelming. The docking bay they land in is Alliance, so there are only other humans around, but once they take a car up to the Presidium, that changes.

It’s an obvious culture shock to Ashley. She’s trying her best not to stare, but Shepard catches her a few times and has to nudge her back into motion. The pinks and browns of humans have given way to a veritable rainbow of skin tones.

The asari are every shade of blue imaginable, mingled with the mottled grays and silvers of turians and salarians as well as a few bright red and green, and the dark colors of the volus and elcor. Shepard even spots a pair of hanar as they head for the embassies.

“Not much experience with aliens?” Shepard asks as she steps aside to let an elcor lumber by. She gives it a nod, and the elcor rumbles his thanks.

“I’ve just never realized how many different kinds of them there are. You don’t see a whole lot of them out in the far colonies.”

Shepard understands the feeling. Even she had been overwhelmed the first time she’d been on a station not run by humans. Growing up on a ship hadn’t prepared her for just how crowded it was with every species in one place.

A salarian bustles past them, mumbling to himself and wringing his hands, and a volus scurries after him, offering a brief apology for his companion’s brusqueness.

“Wait until you meet a vorcha,” Kaidan says dryly. “Ugly as sin, and all of them seem to spit when they talk.” Shepard snorts and Ashley smiles, and then they’re stepping into the human embassy and the conversation abruptly stops.

Ambassador Udina scowls when he sees them, like this whole situation is some personal attack on him. “I tried my best, Anderson,” he says in lieu of a normal greeting, his irritation clear in his voice, “but they’re refusing to listen. It’s because we’re human, I tell you. If this was a turian colony, they’d have mobilized a damn fleet already.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Anderson says pleasantly, expertly ignoring the tension in the room. “What’s happening?”

“They put a few C-Sec officers on the case, and we’re supposed to convene once you arrived to discuss what they’ve found. Though from how they were acting, they don’t seem to believe your report in the slightest.”

Silently, Shepard wonders just how hard Udina had argued their case. He seems aggravated that he even has to be involved. From the look on Ashley’s face, she seems to be thinking along the same lines.

“And I see you brought your whole crew with you,” Udina adds disdainfully.

To his eternal credit, Anderson doesn’t waver under the disparaging barrage. “Just those who had boots on the ground,” he says.

“Bring as many people as you’d like Anderson, but it’s not going to sway the Council. Arterius is one of their top agents; they’re not exactly pleased he’s being accused of treason.”

“It’s the truth,” Shepard snaps, feeling her knuckles creak with how hard she’s clenching her fists. “If they won’t listen, then we’ll make them.”

“Calm down, Commander,” Udina says sharply, throwing her a glare. “Your candidacy for the Spectres is already in jeopardy, so don’t say anything to the Council that we’ll all regret.”

In all honestly, Shepard could give a shit about becoming a Spectre; she’d forgotten all about it until just now, actually. Kaidan raises a brow at the sudden announcement, and Ashley’s jaw might be hanging open a little in shock. Shepard might have ignored them all if Anderson hadn’t shot her a look that plainly said back down.

“If no one else has anything to add,” Udina sneers, “then it’s time to head up to the tower. If you believe in any gods, now would be the time to start praying.”

He sweeps from the room without sparing them another glance, and Anderson sighs and shakes his head before following him. As Shepard goes to reluctantly follow them, she hears Ashley mumble behind her, “And this is why I hate politicians.”

It’s a long ride up the tower to the Council’s meeting room, and the five of them spend it in silence, the animosity from before still lingering. The lack of conversation is more than acceptable to Shepard, who doesn’t really care to hear any more of Udina’s bitching.

Compared to the main floor of the Presidium, the Council chambers are a drastic change. There are a few people milling about or hurrying along on business, and they’re all dressed in expensive clothes or military dress. This isn’t a spot tourists frequent.

It’s so empty that the sounds of an argument carry easily through the air, and Shepard recognizes the distinctive flanging of turian voices before they climb a set of stairs and find themselves right in the middle of the yelling. They’re both wearing the distinctive blue uniform of C-Sec, and if the shouting hadn’t been a dead giveaway, the matching furious expressions would be enough.

“Just stall them!” one of the turians snaps, jabbing a talon at the other. “Arterius is hiding something, and I’m so close to finding out what. I just need a little more time.”

The other turian’s mandibles flare in clear anger. “And how do you expect me to do that, Vakarian? Talk about knitting patterns?”

“You can theorize about why water is wet for all I care. Just give me some more time!”

“Enough. It’s over, Vakarian. Your investigation is finished; get out of here.”

Vakarian visibly fumes as the other turian turns on his heel and stalks away. He scowls and spins to smash a fist into a nearby railing around a pleasant little garden. It’s only after he does that he seems to realize he’s attracted an audience.

He quickly moves aside, looking embarrassed, and Udina doesn’t hesitate to brush past him. Anderson gives a small smile before following him, but Shepard hesitates, telling Ashley and Kaidan that she’ll catch up in a minute.

“I’m guessing the investigation didn’t go well,” she says cautiously to the turian once they’re gone, and he still looks furious despite the clearly embarrassed dip to his shoulders, like he’s trying to make himself smaller.

“That might be an understatement,” Vakarian says quietly. He cocks his head and looks at her, mandibles twitching. “You guys are the humans filing the indictment?” he asks and relaxes at Shepard’s nod. “Garrus Vakarian. I’m the officer in charge of the investigation. Or, at least, I was.”

Shepard watches him shift his weight from foot to foot in clear agitation. He doesn’t seem like the type to manage his frustrations easily. “Well, we appreciate the help. I can’t say I was expecting to find anyone on our side.”

“Yeah, well, something about this rubs me the wrong way,” Garrus says with a scoff. “No offense, Commander, but it’s not really because of you.” Shepard grins despite herself; his candidness is refreshing. “Listen,” Garrus says in an undertone, his voice deadly serious, “I’m heading back down to the wards, screw what Pallin says. Look me up later; maybe I’ll have a lead by then.”

“Thanks, Vakarian, I’ll take you up on that if this meeting goes like I expect it will.”

Garrus nods crisply and then stalks off, mumbling to himself and flexing his hands angrily. Shepard jogs up the next few sets of stairs until she reaches the top, where she’s missed the start of the meeting.

“We agree that a geth attack is a concern,” Tevos, the asari councilor, is saying as Shepard slides into the back of the meeting, “but there is no evidence to indicate that Saren Arterius was involved in any way. No one except one human from the colony - who has been clearly traumatized by the attack - even claims to have seen him on Eden Prime.”

“Not to mention that the investigation by C-Sec turned up no evidence as well,” Sparatus adds. “You have no proof of anything, just words.”

There’s a cold, mirthless chuckle from the left, and Shepard looks around to see a blue image of a turian standing there. It must be Saren, speaking in his own defense over FTL comm. “I resent these accusations. Nihlus was a fellow Spectre as well as a friend. I have no reason to kill him.”

“Which you used to kill him while his guard was down!” Anderson interjects angrily. Saren stares blankly down at him, mandibles twitching angrily.

“And your proof of this, Captain?” he asks, sneering the title with clear disdain. When Anderson does nothing but seethe, he continues, “No, nothing? I thought so.” He turns to the councilors. “This isn’t the first time Anderson has falsely accused me, if you’ll recall.”

The councilors exchange glances, and Shepard can tell they’re quickly losing whatever credibility they had. She steps forward and immediately earns Saren’s cold glare. “We stand to gain nothing from accusing you,” she says to Saren. “In fact, we would risk more than we would gain if we were falsifying charges.”

Saren’s glare becomes, if possible, even colder. “Ah, I see Commander Shepard has deigned to join us. Good job letting the beacon be destroyed. Seems that Anderson has taught you well how to shift the blame of your own failures onto someone else. It’s uncanny, really. But, well,” he shrugs lazily, “what do you expect from humans?”

“My being human has nothing to do with this,” Shepard growls. “If I were a turian, I’d still be standing here accusing you. The only difference is that I might actually be taken seriously!”

There’s a long, heavy silence after that. Sparatus looks reluctantly impressed, but he doesn’t speak, simply glancing between Shepard and Saren. Finally, it’s Saren that breaks the silence, his voice low and threatening.

“Your species needs to learn its place, Shepard,” he snarls. “You are human, and you are not ready to join the Council. And you are definitely not ready to become a Spectre.”

“That’s not your decision,” Udina says suddenly, his voice perfectly calm. It’s the first thing Shepard has heard him say in their defense.

Tevos clears her breath pointedly and shoots Saren a sharp look. “Agreed. This has nothing to do with Commander Shepard’s candidacy for the Spectres.”

Saren’s responding snort is dripping with disdain. “This meeting has no purpose, Councilor. The humans are just wasting your time.” He drops his gaze to glare at Shepard. “And mine.”

“You can’t hide behind them forever,” Shepard says, taking a half-step forward with her hands clenched into tight fists at her side, as if she can physically fight against what is happening. Saren, of course, doesn’t look even slightly concerned; in fact, he almost looks amused.

“There’s still the matter of what the beacon showed Shepard,” Anderson says, laying a hand on Shepard’s shoulder. It’s at once both a calming gesture and an order to stand down; she obediently steps back into line behind him.

Saren snorts. “Oh, are we allowing dreams as testimony now?” he asks. “Because I had this one the other night with an elcor and a steep set of stairs that-”

“That’s enough,” Sparatus says sternly, and Saren falls silent with a smirk. “Captain, we must make our decision based on the evidence, and Shepard’s wild imaginings are hardly such. Therefore, unless any of you have something else to add, this meeting is adjourned.”

Shepard stays silent, her jaw clenched tight enough to make her teeth ache. Anything she could say right now would just be a waste of time and breath; it’s clear the Council has already made its decision.

“Very well,” Valern says briskly when no one speaks. “Ambassador, as no evidence backing your claim has been produced, your petition to have Saren Arterius disbarred from the Spectres is denied.”

“Glad to see justice has prevailed,” Saren sneers, then promptly cuts the connection.

Udina whirls on his heel and shoves past Shepard and Anderson with a furious look on his face. Anderson hesitates a moment to give Shepard a look that clearly says to give them some space, then heads down the stairs after Udina.

The councilors file out of the room, heads ducked together and deeply engrossed in conversation. Shepard stares after them with burning frustration and startles when someone taps her on the arm.

“What now?” Ashley asks, face set in clear determination. “How do we convince them?”

Shepard immediately remembers what Garrus had said. She takes a deep breath. “We head down to the wards and find that turian from earlier,” she says and gets matching if confused nods from Ashley and Kaidan.

Chapter Text

They take the long elevator ride back down to the Presidium then find the nearest path down even lower into the wards where most of the business is on the Citadel. No sooner have they stepped off the elevator, though, than Garrus appears, springing out of the crowd like he’d been waiting on them. Which, thinking about it, he might actually have been.

“Commander,” he says, reaching out and shaking Shepard’s hand. “Figured I’d see you sooner or later. I’m guessing the hearing didn’t go well?”

“You’re as surprised as I am, Vakarian,” Shepard says dryly, and Garrus chuckles. “This is Chief Williams and Lieutenant Alenko. Guys, Garrus Vakarian, the C-Sec officer in charge of the investigation.”

Garrus gives them a polite nod, which Ashley and Kaidan return. “Have you got any leads?” Ashley asks eagerly, and Garrus’ mandibles twitch.

“Just did, actually,” he says cheerfully. “Got word there’s a quarian on station that apparently got their hands on a pretty damning recording. There was a run and gun chase through the wards not long ago, and the quarian ended up down here at one of the clinics.”

“Do you know which clinic?” Shepard asks.

“Not yet, but I can’t image there have been many quarians with gunshot wounds running around. Shouldn’t take long to find the right office.”

Sure enough, Garrus is right. Its takes stopping only a few people to find themselves at a clinic belonging to Doctor Chloe Michel. Garrus tries the door but frowns when he finds it locked. He tries knocking and calling out for the doctor, with no luck.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he murmurs and opens his ‘tool.

He taps away quickly at his ‘tool, and the lock on the door soon blinks from red to green. Garrus shoves open the door and storms inside, hand on his sidearm, and Shepard is close behind him.

A woman in scrubs is being crowded into the back corner of the clinic by a group of men wielding pistols. She’s visibly shaking and looks absolutely terrified, and then she glances away from the man looming over her and catches Shepard’s eyes.

Her eyes go wide, and the men notice, quickly turning and seeing Shepard and the others. He reaches out and grabs Doctor Michel with a hand, yanking her in front of him. Garrus raises his pistol with steady hands.

“Dammit, Vakarian,” the man spits. “Why can’t you just let it go?”

Garrus doesn’t speak, but his bullet goes clean through the man’s eye and out the back of his skull. The body crumples and the other men go scrambling for cover, and Doctor Michel takes the opportunity to run for safety.

As she ducks behind a small planter, Shepard raises her own gun and catches one of the men through the shoulder. He stumbles from the blow with a scream, and her second shot goes through his head.

“Two down,” Shepard says as she ducks behind the wall.

Ashley makes a motion at Kaidan, and Shepard watches as Kaidan nods back then pops from cover and grabs an exam table in a biotic field. He tosses it into the air with ease, leaving another man suddenly exposed; Ashley takes him down with a perfectly placed shot.

“That’s three!” she calls with a satisfied grin.

“Got it,” Garrus says, then charges. There’s a frightened yelp around the far corner as Garrus disappears from sight, then two gunshots. Garrus reappears looking satisfied as he tucks his pistol back to his belt.

Kaidan helps Doctor Michel to her feet and over to a nearby chair, which she sinks into gratefully. The room smells strongly of blood and discharged weapons.

“Thank god you all appeared when you did,” Doctor Michel says in a reed-thin voice. She’s still shaking. “I thought I was dead for sure.”

“You’re unharmed, then?” Garrus asks, and once she nods, he steps closer to her and flashes his C-Sec ID. “We’re looking for a quarian that was recently treated for a gunshot would. Were you the one that treated them?”

Doctor Michel’s eyes go wide. “Tali?” she asks. “Yes, she was. Is that why those men were here?” She glances askance at the bodies in her office, then back at them all. “She said she was in trouble, but I didn’t think they would come after me.”

“The person we’re pursuing is very dangerous,” Garrus says. “Do you know where Tali went?”

“Yes, she said she’d met a volus who said she could sell her information to the Shadow Broker to ensure it made its way to the correct people. He tried to be quiet about it, but I overheard him. She went to Fist, the owner of Chora’s Den down a few levels.”

Garrus’ mandibles twitch. “Damn,” he swears emphatically. “From what I’ve heard, Fist has decided that he gets better benefits working for Arterius than the Shadow Broker.” He whirls on Shepard. “Listen, we need to hurry, but you’re all unarmored and I have no shields. We can stop down at C-Sec and pick up some supplies.”

Shepard’s already nodding. “Lead the way,” she says.

Doctor Michel sees them out of her clinic with several more thank yous, and then Garrus takes them all down to C-Sec, his long legs outpacing all of them except Ashley, who is only about ten centimeters shorter than him. He paces on the elevator ride.

They arrive at C-Sec headquarters with a pleasant ding from the elevator, and the doors slide open to reveal a large, red krogan looming threateningly over a pair of men in C-Sec blue. The officers both look haggard and the krogan angry.

“Just stay away from him and we can all get on with our lives,” one of the officers is saying as Shepard and the others carefully creep off the elevator.

The krogan sneers. “I don’t take orders from you, human. I have a bounty that needs fulfilling.”

“And I have a responsibility as Citadel Security to make sure you don’t succeed.”

“You won’t stop me. I will kill Fist.

Shepard and the others all pause at the name and turn back to the conversation they’d walked in on. Had this krogan been hired because of Fist’s recent heelturn? Had word spread that fast already?

The C-Sec officers sighs tiredly. “This is your only warning, Wrex,” he says. “Do you want to be arrested?”

Wrex’s laugh is so deep that Shepard almost expects the floor to shake. “I want you to try.”

The officer pales noticeably, and Wrex just scoffs and turns, only to come face-to-face with Garrus and his C-Sec uniform. The two of them stare at each other for several long seconds before Wrex narrows his eyes and guffaws.

“You the muscle?” he asks, eyes darting from him to the three humans behind him. “’Cause I hate to break it to you, but it’s gonna take more than the four of you to stop me blasting Fist with my shotgun.”

Shepard looks over at Garrus, who has his head cocked as he studies Wrex with interest. He catches Shepard’s glance and jerks his head back toward a quiet corner of the lobby; Shepard lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug.

“I’m not here to stop you,” Garrus says. Wrex’s steady glower doesn’t falter. “But could we speak with you for a moment? We might be able to help you.”

“Vakarian,” the officer that’s been quiet so far says, sounding exasperated. “What in the hell are you up to?” Garrus just waves a dismissive hand at him and turns away. Wrex watches his retreating back for a few seconds before lumbering after him.

The five of them step away from the heavy through traffic, and Wrex stands apart from them, arms crossed over his chest and his expression thoroughly unimpressed. Garrus clears his throat a little awkwardly.

“We krogan aren’t exactly known for our patience, you know,” Wrex grumbles.

Garrus straightens. “You said you were here for Fist, right? Well so are we. We have a few questions we need answers to.”

Wrex stares at him. “You’re serious,” he says after a moment. “If I get my hands on him, he’s not going to be in any state to answer your questions.”

“We get the answers we want, and then he’s all yours,” Garrus says smoothly with no hesitation. Shepard is surprised by his blatant disregard of Wrex’s threat and complete willingness to just hand Fist over to this bounty hunger.

“I don’t exactly have the best track record with turians,” Wrex says. He glances over at Shepard and the others. “Or humans, for that matter. But shit, I can’t just turn down an offer like that. Seek the enemy of your enemy, and you will find a friend. Wisest krogan wisdom I’ve ever heard.”

Garrus grins. “Glad to have you along, Wrex. This is Commander Shepard and her teammates,” he gestures at Shepard, who nods when Wrex shoots her a curious look. “They’re trustworthy. And good in a fight.”

Abruptly, Wrex grins broadly, each of his sharp teeth glinting in the bright lights of the C-Sec lobby. “I have heard of you, Shepard!” he cries, clapping her hard enough on the shoulder to almost buckle her knees. “One of humanity’s finest warriors. It will be an honor to fight alongside you!”

Shepard’s legs tingle with the shock of the blow. “Uh, thanks, Wrex,” she says awkwardly, taken aback by the surly krogan’s sudden change in attitude. “You’re the first krogan I’ve ever had on my side.”

Wrex pounds a fist on his chest. “You’re in for a treat then, Shepard. The turians may claim the best military, but the krogan are the best warriors. We were made for battle.” He’s positively preening, holding himself up to full height and beaming brightly.

“Just give us a minute,” Garrus says. “I need to grab some shield packs for us. Be right back.”

He disappears up a back set of stairs clearly marked for officers only, leaving Wrex to leer curiously at the rest of them. “You guys military?” he asks. “What are you doing running around here joining a raid with a C-Sec officer?”

Kaidan and Ashley turn to Shepard to answer, how much to reveal about what they’re really doing up to her discretion as commanding officer. Shepard considers the hulking krogan, curious and tame-looking now but scarred enough to imply exactly otherwise.

“Saren Arterius,” Shepard finally says, and Wrex visibly perks up. “He attacked a human colony with an army of geth, so we’re trying to find some evidence to prove he did it.”

“Aha!” Wrex chortles. “He’s why I got offered this job, actually. Pissed off the Shadow Broker when he convinced Fist to turn on him, so he hired me to take down Fist, teach Arterius a lesson.” He shrugs. “Figure a bounty’ll come through for the turian bastard soon enough, and I’m planning to snap that one up too.”

He gives a toothy grin so bright that Shepard can’t help but smile in return. “Um,” Ashley speaks up suddenly, voice hesitant, “Doctor Michel mentioned it earlier, but who’s the Shadow Broker?”

“No one knows,” Kaidan says, “but he knows everything about anything and anybody. Collects information and sells it off to people that want it. No one knows who he is or even what system he works out of.”

“He’s got agents spread across the galaxy,” Shepard adds. “Every species, every sector of business.”

Ashley gives a low whistle. “Impressive. And scary.”

“Yeah,” Wrex grunts. “But he’s always good for high-paying bounty jobs when somebody pisses him off. Not the first time I’ve been on his payroll. And this one is good, let me tell you.”

Garrus returns then, bouncing down the staircase with an assault rifle hung on his back and an armful of shield packs, which he quickly passes out to the group of marines. “Wrex and I will lead the way,” he says briskly, tone business-like like he’s discussing the weather. “I know you guys have shields, but we have armor too. Better we get shot than you.”

Shepard has never been one to let others lead the charge, but she can see the sense in the plan. She, Kaidan, and Ashley are in fatigues with only their sidearms to fight with. It’s just smart battle tactics to send the more heavily armed in first.

“Alright,” she says grudgingly. Garrus nods happily; Wrex grins like he’s being served a platter of high-quality steak. “Now how do we get to this bar?”

The bar, it turns out, is less of a bar and more of a strip club. Populated almost entirely by asari. Shepard eyes the tacky sign out front with more than a little disgust. She really shouldn’t be surprised. Ashley rolls her eyes in clear exasperation, but Kaidan looks more curious than anything. Shepard cuffs him on the back of the head and exchanges a weary look with Ashley.

Unsurprisingly, the door to the club is locked and all the lights are off, looking for all appearances like it’s closed for the day. Wrex rolls his shoulders and rams himself into the door, and it creaks and buckles under the heavy blow. A blast from Wrex’s heavy shotgun blows the thing entire off its frame.

The gunfire starts immediately, bullets flying wildly through the remains of the door. Wrex charges through with a battle cry, the bullets glancing harmlessly off him, and a few screams of surprise and fear quickly follow. Garrus slides in after him much more subtly, Ashley close on his heels.

The men defending the club and Fist are nothing more than hired goons, and most of them scatter when faced with the threat of a krogan with a shotgun. Shepard can’t entirely blame them, even as she helps stop them from fleeing.

Kaidan throws a Singularity behind the bar, lining up a trio of men for Wrex to blast with a single shell. Shepard ducks behind the hulking wall of krogan and picks off a man trying to flank them.

Across the room, Ashley is doing the same with Garrus, staying in his shadow and covering him when he reloads. Not that he needs the help; Garrus is almost as much a force of nature as Wrex is, nailing precision shots with practiced ease.

Wrex crushes the last man’s skull with a heavy foot, and the sickening crunch of bone is loud in the aftermath of the shootout. Garrus quickly hops over the bodies toward a door tucked away in the back of the club, visibly unbothered by the carnage they’d wrought.

“Normally, I’d just hack the door open,” he says as he flips through his ‘tool, “but Wrex, if you’d like to do the honors?”

Wrex grins and happily pounds his fists together before he settles into a headfirst charge at the door. It creaks unhappily, and a cheery kick from Wrex is enough to peel it away from the wall. There’s a startled yelp from inside as Wrex pushes through the wreckage.

“Ah, Fist,” he rumbles as Garrus follows him inside.

“What the hell is this?” Fist roars as Shepard motions for Kaidan and Ashley to keep watch. “C-Sec’s working with bounty hunters now?”

“Sort of,” Garrus says menacingly.

Shepard ducks into the room to find him and Wrex towering over Fist, who’s standing with his desk between them like it will do something to stop them. Fist’s eyes fly from the two of them to Shepard, to the Alliance fatigues and the N7 patch stitched on her shoulder. She crosses her arms and meets his stare head-on, expression cold, and he seems to pale even further.

The gun Fist is holding quavers in his grip, and Garrus steps forward and easily twists it from his hands, tossing it over his shoulder and directly into Shepard’s hands like he’d planned it. She ejects the clip and tucks the gun into her belt.

“Alright,” Garrus says menacingly, “start talking.”

Fist sneers. “About what, officer?”

Garrus cocks his head and appraises Fist for a moment before he pulls his own pistol from his side. He checks the clip before leveling it at Fist. “Tell us about the quarian,” he says, voice deceptively pleasant, “and I won’t shoot you in the kneecaps.” He drops the gun to point at Fist’s knees, and what’s left of Fist’s bravado quickly vanishes.

Wrex leans against a nearby wall and watches the scene curiously. “I would have shot him first, but I guess this way works too,” he rumbles.

“I find that kneecaps are something that humans tend to never really recover from,” Garrus says conversationally. “Excellent motivator.” He smirks down at Fist. “Would you prefer the right or left first?”

“Okay, okay,” Fist says hurriedly, eyes not leaving the muzzle of the pistol. “I don’t know where the quarian is, and that’s the truth!”

Wrex straightens up and hefts his shotgun. “Well, then,” he says cheerfully, taking a few steps forward to stand at Garrus’ shoulder. “If you’re done, can I kill him now?”

“No, no, no, wait!” Fist throws his hands up in front of himself. “I don’t know where the quarian is, but I know how you can find her. She said she’d only deal with the Shadow Broker himself, so-”

Wrex snorts loudly. “Yeah, right. Even I was hired through an agent.”

“I know that,” Fist snaps, and Garrus’ grip tightens on his pistol. Fist hurriedly continues, “But she didn’t know that. I told her I’d set up a meeting, and she believed me easy enough. Just like a quarian, you know? No idea how the rest of the galaxy works. The men I sent will take care of her.”

Up until now, Shepard’s anger at the situation had been a low simmering heat in her chest, but something about the way Fist so casually drops the snub, the way his lips twist with clear contempt, is enough to push her anger to a sudden boiling point.

She pulls her own pistol from her waist and trains it on Fist’s head, stepping forward until she’s almost level with Garrus. “You fucking bastard,” she snarls, and Garrus startles at her sudden aggression and takes a half-step backward, pistol dropping away. “She’s been chased across the galaxy for what she found, and you send her to her death!”

Fist is apparently much more intimidated by an angry human than a calm turian. He’s looking at her with wide, terrified eyes, just as surprised by her sudden attack as the others are. It’s no wonder most of the quarians would rather stay in the Fleet than strike out on their own, with people like Fist around every corner.

“Where’s the meeting point?” Shepard growls.

“Here in the wards,” Fist says quickly, looking relieved to be asked a question that has an answer, “in the back alley behind the markets. She’s supposed to be there right now, but you might be able to make it if you hurry.”

Shepard swears vehemently, takes a moment to make a decision, then drops her pistol and shoots Fist through his right knee. He screams wordlessly in agony and falls to the floor, but Shepard has already turned away and started toward the door. “He’s all yours, Wrex,” she says before ducking out of the office.

She’s still seething as she stalks out of the club and takes a moment to find the best route to the alley Fist had mentioned. Distantly, she’s aware of Kaidan and Ashley following her, the former having to jog to keep up.

“Were you the one who shot him, Commander?” Kaidan asks. “Why? He told us what we needed.”

“Alenko,” Shepard says, grinding her teeth together in an attempt to keep her voice calm. “Have you ever met a quarian who hasn’t at some point or another been cheated or physically assaulted because of what they are?”

Kaidan is silent, which Shepard takes as a no. She pauses at an intersection before turning left, taking the stairs three at a time.

“The Quarians keep to themselves because of how they’re treated, but when they do venture out, all they get in return is hatred and vitriol. So if this quarian, who seems young and naive, dies because of Fist-” She trails off, unsure of how to finish the threat. Partially because it’s pointless now with Fist at Wrex’s mercy and partially because she’s so damn angry that she’s having trouble speaking clearly.

Shepard shoves through a door into a red-lit back alley, and she feels a great relief to see a quarian in a purple environment suit standing there with her back to them, looking very much alive. A turian is looming over her, face hidden by his helmet.

“Hey, who are you?” another voice yells, and Shepard looks up to see a pair of salarians in full armor hurrying toward them. Shepard raises her gun and very calmly shoots them both through the head.

They’ve barely hit the ground when there’s a sudden explosion. Shepard whirls to see the quarian diving behind a large crate and the turian flying a few meters away, armor burned and busted from the force of the blow.

Ashley is quick to finish the turian with a bullet through the skull, leaving Shepard to turn and face the quarian, who is crouched very still behind the box watching them all.

“Who sent you?” she spits, and Shepard can see her rolling another grenade between her fingers.

“We’re friends,” Shepard says, quickly holstering her pistol and motioning for the others to do the same. She holds her hands up so the quarian can see them. “I’m Shepard, Alliance military. I don’t work for Arterius or the Shadow Broker. And Fist is probably dead by now.”

Garrus arrives at that moment, bursting through the door into the alley with fanfare. The quarian looks at him and finally seems to relax a bit. “Are you all alright?” he asks, wide eyes scanning the alley before settling on the quarian.

“He’s with you?” the quarian asks. Shepard nods. “I guess I’ll believe you.” She tucks the grenade away into a pocket without looking away from them, body still tense and ready to flee should she need to. “Thank you for showing up when you did. I didn’t like my odds against all three of them.”

Shepard smiles and says, “I’m just glad we made it in time.”

“Seemed like a close thing,” Ashley says, and the quarian nods.

They hear Wrex’s footsteps before they see him, and instantly, the quarian is on edge again. Shepard throws a hand out toward Wrex, who stops and looks around in befuddlement before he notices the quarian. “He’s with us too,” Shepard tells the quarian.

There’s a long moment where the quarian looks at each of them in turn, then says, “You are a very odd group.”

Garrus chuckles, and Shepard grins. “If you don’t mind,” Garrus says kindly, “we really need that evidence you have on Arterius. We - well, all of us except Wrex - have been looking for something to incriminate him, and we heard you might have exactly what we need.”

“Ah.” The quarian tilts her head. “Everyone wants this stupid thing. I’ll be happy to finally be rid of it. Just,” she glances around, “not here.”

Shepard nods in understanding. “We’ll go to Udina’s office. He and Anderson will want to see this evidence, and we’ll be safe there.”

They’re quite a sight, the six of them, marching together through the wards and up to the Presidium, but their armor and weapons seems to dissuade anyone from watching them too curiously. Wrex leads the way, his bulk useful in clearing a path for them all, with Garrus giving directions at his shoulder.

“Sorry, I should have asked earlier,” Shepard says to the quarian, “but what’s your name?”

“Tali,” she says. “Tali’Zorah nar Rayya, but just Tali is fine.”

Shepard smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, Tali, though I wish it had been under better circumstances. Were you on your Pilgrimage when you stumbled your way into this mess?”

“Is it that obvious?” Tali asks wryly, and Shepard smiles sympathetically. “I left only a few cycles ago. Not exactly the way I wanted everything to go. I wasn’t planning on coming anywhere near this far in, actually, but I had to change my plans pretty quickly.”

“Well, I’m glad it worked out in the end,” Shepard says.

The embassies are just as busy as the rest of the Presidium, but they manage to push their way through to the human offices easily enough. Shepard leads the way into Udina’s office without knocking and enjoys the shocked look on his face when he sees them all.

“Shepard,” Udina says slowly, eyes darting back and forth like he’s not sure which alien to focus on, “please tell me the fight down in Chora’s Den wasn’t you.” He sounds almost pleading, already resigned to the answer.

“It was for a good reason,” Shepard says. She turns and motions for Tali to join her, and after a moment of hesitation, she does. “Ambassador, I found our evidence.”

Udina’s frustration gives way to skepticism. “A quarian?” he asks. “Shepard, what-”

“This is Tali,” Shepard says cheerfully, cutting him off, and he scowls darkly at her. “Arterius has had men chasing her across the galaxy, but we managed to find her before they did. Tali, if you would?”

Tali coughs self-consciously. “When I left the flotilla, I heard that there had been geth sighted outside the Veil, so I tracked some down to try and find out why. I managed to separate one from the rest and retrieve its memory core.”

“But the geth have safeguards against that,” Anderson says. “How did you manage to extract the data before it wiped itself?”

“My people created the geth,” Tali says with a touch of pride, “so we know better than anyone how they work. Most of the data was corrupted by the time I managed to extract it, but there was a recording left.”

She raises her arm and opens her ‘tool, and once she’s sure they’re all watching, she plays the audio. For a moment, it’s nothing but static, but then a voice speaks, and the quality becomes clearer.

“Eden Prime is crucial to our success. With the beacon there, we will be one step closer to the Conduit.”

“That’s Arterius’ voice!” Anderson says excitedly, standing up and stepping closer. “This is what we need-”

Tali waves a hand at him, and he pauses, looking at her curiously. “That’s not all of it,” she says, fiddling with her ‘tool. “Just a second.”

“-to the Conduit,” Arterius’ voice says again, and this time, none of them speak, instead staring expectantly at Tali’s ‘tool as another voice speaks, garbled a bit by some more static.

“And one step closer to the return of the Reapers.”

“I don’t recognize that voice,” Udina says thoughtfully, “but that is unmistakably Saren Arterius speaking of Eden Prime. I don’t know how much clearer evidence we could have.”

Shepard’s head is suddenly throbbing mercilessly. She closes her eyes and presses her fingers to her temples. “Reapers,” she repeats, turning the word over in her head. Something about it is so familiar, but she can’t quite remember where she’d heard it before.

“I did some quick research on them after I heard the recording,” Tali says. “They were supposedly a highly advanced synthetic race alive over fifty thousand years ago. The geth believe that they’re the reason for the extinction of the Protheans.”

The answer strikes Shepard with sudden clarity. “That’s it!” she cries. One of the images from the beacon is blazing brightly behind her eyes, of millions of Protheans dead at the hands of the Reapers. “That’s what the beacon was showing me!”

Tali cocks her head but just says, “The geth revere them as gods, the pinnacle of non-organic life. It’s no wonder they’re working with this Saren guy if he’s trying to bring them back.”

Udina snorts suddenly, reminding Shepard that he’s still in the room listening to the conversation. She’d been so caught up in her sudden epiphany that she’d clear forgotten about him. “That Council is going to love this,” he grumbles.

“If Arterius does succeed in bringing back the Reapers, then the whole galaxy is at risk. If these things could wipe out the Protheans - the most advanced species we know of - then what chance would we stand against them?”

“We don’t even know if these Reapers are real,” Udina snaps.

Shepard grinds her teeth in frustration. They’re real, she knows they’re real. She’s seen them. But with the beacon gone, there’s no one else that has seen what she had, nobody but her who has witnessed the truth. She has nothing but her word for support.

Luckily, Anderson physically steps between them in an attempt to dispel the tension. “No matter what the contents of this recording mean, it’s still undeniable proof that Arterius had something to do with Eden Prime and the beacon.”

“Agreed,” Udina says with a sigh. “We’ll go report this right away.”

“Wait,” Ashley says. “What do we do with the quarian?”

Tali spins on her heel, hackles visibly rising even within the suit. “I’m a person, and my name is Tali!” she says angrily, and Ashley takes a step back, hands raised and eyes wide. She mumbles an apology, but Tali has already turned away from her again. “I’ll send you the recording and delete it from my files. If I don’t have it anymore, then I’ll be safe.”

Shepard nods and holds up her ‘tool to take the file, and soon, there’s a quiet chime to indicate an incoming message. She opens it to make sure everything passed correctly, then sends it on to Udina and says to Tali, “Thank you. Truly. You’ve just saved a whole lot of lives.”

She can’t see her face, but she thinks Tali sounds pleased when she says, “I’m happy to help.”

Chapter Text

The second emergency Council meeting of the day has a very different tone from the first. Everyone else has been cleared from the meeting room, only those involved with the investigation allowed inside. Wrex hadn’t seem bothered, had just mumbled something about collecting his pay and lumbered off.

All three Councilors listen to the audio recording with quiet intensity, and Shepard watches Tevos’ expression darken to something thunderous when the second person speaks. Garrus fidgets impatiently at Shepard’s side.

“Well,” Udina says once the recording is finished playing, “you wanted proof and we found some. That’s more than C-Sec could manage.”

Garrus makes a noise that is half-amused, half-insulted. Shepard closes her eyes to stop herself from rolling her eyes; trust Udina to take credit for something he’d had no part in doing.

“Indeed,” Sparatus says slowly, casting Garrus a brief, curious look. “This evidence is damning. Saren Arterius will be stripped of his Spectre status effective immediately and resources will be assigned to assure his capture.”

The announcement is satisfying, but Shepard can’t help but ask Tevos, “Councilor, did you recognize the other voice?”

Tevos blinks at her, pensive expression briefly shifting to surprise before she carefully schools it again. “Yes,” she says. “One of our Matriarchs, Benezia T’Soni. She is well-loved among my people. How she fell in with Arterius, I’ve no idea. Benezia has always been an advocate for peace.”

“I’m more interested in these Reapers,” Valern says. “You all did some research, I assume.”

“The quarian who found the recording, Tali, she told us that they were an ancient race of synthetics who wiped out the Protheans. The geth apparently worship them as gods and think Arterius is their prophet.”

Sparatus says instead, “This Conduit that Sa-Arterius mentioned. That’s why he attacked Eden Prime?”

“We believe so,” Shepard says.

“Do we know what it is?”

Anderson says, voice grim, “No, but if Arterius thinks it can bring back the Reapers, isn’t that enough?”

Valern rubs at his chin. “Honestly, they sound like something out of a children’s story,” he says thoughtfully. “Surely if they existed, we would have found some trace of them by now. Fifty thousand years, you said?”

Tevos shakes her head. “I have never heard of them, and the asari are the oldest of us all.”

“You didn’t believe me about Arterius,” Shepard says darkly, and Sparatus scowls at her. “Even if you don’t believe that the Reapers are real, you have to agree that the geth are a threat to the entire galaxy and that Arterius is their leader.”

Sparatus smacks a hand on his podium. “We can’t just send a whole damn fleet in! It would spark a full-scale war with the Terminus Systems. The batarians are just waiting for an excuse!”

Standing there facing down the Council, who although they have agreed to commit resources to Saren’s capture, won’t take the threat he poses seriously, Shepard realizes something. If they can’t send in a fleet, then maybe a smaller team could get the job done.

“Send me,” she says and receives an array of shocked expressions in response. Tevos is the only one watching with pure curiosity. Shepard takes a breath and speaks again, voice stronger this time, “Let me take a team and hunt him down. Without Arterius leading them, the geth will become disorganized again.”

The Council is silent as they exchange glances with each other. Tevos nods without hesitation, and once she does, Valern follows suit. Sparatus stares at them, mandibles twitching, before he finally sets his jaw and nods as well.

“Very well,” Tevos says while Sparatus continues to glower. “We will end this meeting concerning Saren Arterius and convene again in an hour to name Commander Shepard as a new Spectre.”

Shepard stifles a grin and settles for a respectful nod to the Council. Sparatus and Valern step down from their podiums and duck their heads close together as they disappear into the Council’s private chambers, but Tevos hesitates before she follows them.

“Commander,” she calls, and Shepard startles and looks up at her curiously. She’s smiling just slightly. “I would recommend a clean shirt for the ceremony.”

Taken aback by the unexpected words, it takes a moment for Shepard to realize what she’d said. She quickly pulls on the hem of her shirt and sees what Tevos had meant, the bright splatter of red human blood across her stomach that is most likely Fist’s.

“Um,” she says, dropping her shirt and looking back up at Tevos, “I’ll do that, ma’am.”

Tevos nods, apparently satisfied with her fumbled answer, then disappears after her fellow Councilors. Shepard stands there dumbly for a minute, cheeks and ears hot with embarrassment, before Anderson pulls her away and into a fierce hug.

/

Mercifully, Ashley is close enough to her size that they can switch shirts. Across the shoulders, there’s hardly a difference, but since Ashley is absurdly tall, Shepard has to tuck the shirt into her pants to hide the extra length. Ashley, by contrast, looks almost comical in the too short shirt.

Kaidan, whose shirt Shepard’s broad shoulders would have stretched terribly, just grins at them.

Once an hour has passed, Shepard steps onto the floor of the Council meeting room alone. The others are up in the balcony, including Garrus, and Shepard glances up and catches their eyes once she’s reached her spot in the middle of the room.

She’s surprised to see Tali and Wrex in the crowd as well, the former wedged in front of Garrus and the latter on the opposite balcony with a full meter of space around himself. He grins when Shepard looks his way.

There’s a dull buzz of voices in the room that quickly stops when the Councilors step up to their podiums. Instead the room fills with an expectant sort of tension, and Shepard is very much aware of all the eyes on her.

“Welcome,” Tevos says to the room at large. “Today the Council has gathered to grant the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel to Lieutenant-Commander Jane Shepard of the Alliance.”

Valern speaks next. “Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle, those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file.”

“Spectres are an ideal, a symbol,” Tevos continues. “The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will.”

Sparatus, who for once sounds perfectly docile, says, “Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold.”

There is a pause, allowing the words to sink in. Shepard, who has had years of practice standing completely still at attention, doesn’t fidget in the silence no matter how much she wants to under the weighty stares of the three Councilors.

“Commander,” Tevos finally says after what feels like forever and a day, “you are the first human Spectre. This is a great accomplishment for you and your entire species.”

“Thank you, Councilors,” Shepard says, bowing her head. “I’m honored to join the other species among the Spectres.”

Tevos gives a small approving nod. “You know your mission, already, Commander. As your target is a fugitive from justice, you are authorized to use any means necessary to apprehend or eliminate him. We will be eagerly awaiting your success.”

“I’ll find him,” Shepard says, swears.

“This meeting is adjourned,” Tevos says, and then it’s over.

The balconies erupt into conversation, and Shepard turns to find Anderson in the crowd. He’s positively glowing as he beams proudly down at her. Shepard can’t help but grin up at him as she salutes. Next to him, Ashley gives a loud whoop that several people in Alliance uniforms echo.

It’s difficult to find them in the crowd afterward, people of every species wanting to stop and speak with Shepard, and it’s only when Wrex appears at her shoulder that Shepard feels like she can breathe again.

“Thanks,” she tells him, and he grunts back. “I have to say, I didn’t expect to see you at the ceremony.”

He chuckles. “Normally, I wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near this place, but when I heard they were naming you Spectre, I had an idea. They’re sending you after that bastard Arterius, right? Well, I want in.”

Shepard’s eyes go wide. “What, really?” she asks in disbelief.

“Is it really so hard to believe? You’re going to go sailing all around the Traverse fighting an army of geth in order to hunt down a wanted fugitive. Hell yeah do I want a piece of that!”

He’s practically glowing with excitement, and he looks down at Shepard with such eagerness that she can’t really help but laugh and say, “Alright, Wrex. Happy to have you along.”

She holds out a hand, and Wrex looks bemusedly at it for a moment before reaching out and shaking it carefully, apparently afraid he’ll crush it. Shepard laughs at him, but he doesn’t seem bothered, just grins at her.

The others arrive then, mostly likely led there by Wrex’s towering bulk. Udina is nowhere to be seen, of course, but neither is Anderson. Shepard looks around for him, figuring maybe he’d gotten lost in the crowd, but Kaidan shakes his head.

“Ambassador Udina dragged him away,” he says. “Said something about getting things prepared for you.”

A ship and a team, Shepard figures. She won’t be much use without anything of her own, and it would come down to Udina to get them for her. Why he needs Anderson along, though, she can’t imagine.

“Congratulations, Shepard!” Tali says excitedly. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be made a Spectre!”

“Well, actually,” Shepard says, rubbing nervously at the back of her neck, “I was so focused on the investigation that I forgot all about being a candidate. And honestly, if the Council didn’t need somebody to hunt down Arterius, I probably wouldn’t be one right now.”

Kaidan shakes his head. “You earned this, Commander. Even if it didn’t happen today, you’d have made Spectre sooner or later.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Lieutenant,” Shepard says wryly, though she means it sincerely.

Wrex speaks up suddenly. “You joining the hunt, turian?” he asks, peering curiously at Garrus, who seems surprised by the sudden question.

“You’re recruiting, Commander?” he asks, and Wrex guffaws.

“He asked to come along,” Shepard tells Garrus, who nods. “I know you’re C-Sec, but you’re welcome if you want.” She shrugs. “I don’t have much of a team right now.”

She extends the offer out of politeness rather than a belief that Garrus will actually agree, so she’s shocked when Garrus only hesitates briefly before nodding. “Okay,” he says, and she stares at him. “I think I’d like that, Commander.”

“Oh, me too!” Tali says. “All those geth, I’m sure I’ll be able to find something to complete my Pilgrimage. Plus,” she pauses, fidgeting with her fingers, “you’ve treated me like an equal, Shepard, and I don’t think I’m going to get a better offer than this.”

Shepard doesn’t know what to say to that, so she settles for just nodding. Luckily, she’s saved by a quiet chime from her ‘tool.

“It’s from Anderson,” she says, then reads the short message. “Said to meet him and Udina at the human embassy in an hour.” She closes the message and looks up at the odd assortment of people around her. “So who wants dinner?”

/

They wind up in a little restaurant in the wards that serves both normal and dextro-based foods, and Shepard smiles at the cashier and tells him to put it on Udina’s tab. It’s the least he deserves for how he’s treated her all day.

By the time the make it back up to the embassies, it’s been just shy of an hour. They pass a few newsreels on their way, and Shepard grimaces each time she catches sight of her own face in the footage. She’ll be headline news for weeks.

Just as they’re heading up the stairs toward the human embassy, Shepard hears someone calling her name. She turns and looks into the crowd of people around them, searching for a moment before spotting the human waving at her.

The man looks relieved to have caught her attention, and he squeezes through the crowd to reach her. “Commander!” he exclaims as soon as he’s within reach, sounding a little winded. “Commander, I hate to bother you, but I heard you were the one who landed on Eden Prime and I hoped you would be able to help me.”

Shepard is taken aback at how quickly news has spread. Apparently the Alliance hadn’t been able to keep word of the situation from leaking. “Uh, yes, that’s me,” she says hesitantly. “What can I do for you?” The man’s weary expression brightens with hopes.

“My name is Samesh Bhatia,” he says, pressing his hands together nervously. “My wife was a marine assigned to Eden Prime. She was part of the unit that-”

“Wait!” Ashley appears suddenly, pressing close to Shepard and Samesh in the crowd. “You’re Nirali Bhatia’s husband? I served in the same unit.”

Samesh looks at Ashley with wide eyes. “Oh,” he says somewhat faintly, “I didn’t realize there were any survivors.”

“I-” Ashley fidgets, clearly uncomfortable, but she steels herself and presses on, spine uncurling to stand tall. “I’m the only one, sir. Wouldn’t be here if the Commander hadn’t shown up when she did.” Samesh nods with a bittersweet smile. “But what’s the problem?”

The haggard looks returns to Samesh’s face, and it ages him almost ten years. “It’s her body, I’m afraid. I came to retrieve it, but the Alliance turned me away. They’re refusing to give her to me, and no one will tell my why. I was hoping that they might listen to you, Commander.”

Shepard feels a pang deep in her chest. She glances sideways at Ashley to see her entire body is a tense line of anger, fists clenched tight enough to shake at her sides. “Mr. Bhatia,” Shepard says gently, looking back at the man, “who do I need to talk to?”

The joy that immediately lights up Samesh’s face twists Shepard’s stomach in sympathetic anger. All the man wants is his wife back, and no one will even give him a reason why he can’t. “Thank you,” Samesh says, and his eyes are beginning to water at the edges. “Thank you so much. The man in charge of my case is a Mr. Bosker. He is taking his lunch in a bar just up those stairs.” He motions. “I had just left from speaking with him when I saw you.”

“I’ll be right back,” Shepard tells him, and he nods and gives her a watery smile.

Shepard indicates for Ashley to join her, and the two of them leave the others behind and head off in the direction Samesh had indicated. Ashley is positively seething, jaw and spine rigid enough to ache, and Shepard casts her a few worried glances as they walk.

“Williams,” Shepard murmurs just before they step into the small bar, and Ashley pauses and looks down at her curiously, seemingly taken out of her anger for a moment. “I’ll let you talk to him, but I’ll step in if I need to.”

Ashley blinks, looking flummoxed. “Ma’am?” she says, the question evident. Shepard looks back placidly, then jerks her head toward the door.

The bar is a far cry from the restaurant in the wards they’d taken lunch at. Where that one had been filled with everyday people just looking for a nice place to eat, this is clearly catered toward Presidium staff, everyone dressed to the nines and most with their noses buried in a datapad. The Alliance clerk is easily to pick out.

Bosker almost falls out of his chair when he sees them, but manages to turn the motion into standing instead. “Commander Shepard!” he cries and almost knocks his drink off his table with his jerky movements. “You’re quite the figure these days. Is there something I can help you with?”

“There is, in fact,” Shepard says, tucking her hands behind her back. She tilts her head toward Ashley. “But she’s the one you need to talk to. Chief?”

“I served with Serviceman Nirali Bhatia in the two-twelve. Her husband just told us that he’s being denied access to her body.”

There’s no actual question, but any idiot could read between the lines. Bosker pales and wrings his hands. “Ah, of course,” he says. “I wish I could help you, ma’am, but her body is being held because of the injuries she sustained during the incursion. We’re hoping the study of her remains will lead to better knowledge of how to combat the, um, you know.” He winces and waves a hand, glancing nervously around them.

Shepard scowls and digs her nails into her opposite wrist. It’s obvious that whoever had made this decision had never been the one waiting for the return of a loved one’s body. Had never grieved for someone who would never come home again. But this isn’t her fight; she’s just here in case they need her authority to overturn the decision.

The corners of Ashley’s lips have turned down, and she looks positively thunderous. “Listen,” she nearly growls as she takes a threatening step closer to Bosker. “Serviceman Bhatia is far from the only person who died on Eden Prime, and I’m sure there will be even more soon. So find another body to dissect, one that doesn’t have a desperate husband waiting on her.”

Bosker is deathly pale now as he quakes under the sheer force of Ashley’s glare. He shoots a panicked look at Shepard past Ashley’s shoulder, but Shepard just stares back with an icy expression. If he expects a rescue from her, he’s sorely mistaken.

The fact that he’s outnumbered and at the mercy of two very angry marines seems to make Bosker’s decision. “Alright, alright,” he stammers hurriedly. “It was hard enough denying Mr. Bhatia, but I can’t refuse the both of you too. I’ll go draw up the paperwork for Serviceman Bhatia’s release. Give Mr. Bhatia my apologies, will you?”

Ashley’s hackles drop, and the effect immediately seems to shrink her three inches. She nods. “We will. Thank you for doing the right thing, Mr. Bosker.”

He nods a little hysterically then positively flees the bar. Shepard leads the way out after him and says quietly to Ashley once the door closes behind them, “You did well, Chief.” Ashley lets out a slow, shuddering breath and just nods, staring morosely down at her boots.

They find Samesh just where they’d left him, standing in the middle of a group of aliens and to his credit looking only slightly uncomfortable about it. He perks up when he sees them again.

“You’re back,” he says. “Did you-”

Shepard gives him a smile, as Ashley doesn’t look quite up to speaking at the moment. “She’s coming home,” she says, and Samesh’s eyes instantly well with tears.

“Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you,” he cries, reaching forward to shake Shepard’s hand with enough enthusiasm to stumble a krogan. “I can never repay you for what you have done. You have returned my wife to me.”

“Actually,” Shepard says, “Williams here is the one you should be thanking.” She sets a hand on Ashley’s shoulder. “She’s the one who actually did the arguing.”

Samesh turns his teary face to Ashley, who looks nervous under the attention. So much for her bravado when she’d been facing down Bosker. “Thank you,” Samesh tells her, taking her hand as well. “You are Chief Williams, yes? Nirali spoke very highly of you.”

“Th-thank you,” Ashley says a little shakily. “She was a good woman, a good soldier. I’m happy I could help send her home.”

Shepard takes the opportunity to shuffle everyone else away to allow Ashley a moment of privacy to speak with Samesh, and they all linger a few meters away as the two of them speak in low tones. Samesh is beaming through his tears, and even Ashley is smiling a little now.

It’s several minutes later when they separate, and as Ashley approaches the rest of them, she looks more at ease than before. “Thank you,” she says quietly to Shepard as they finally make their way up to the human embassy. Shepard just nods back.

Udina is, of course, in a sour mood when they finally arrive and in fact seems to be in the middle of a glaring match with Anderson. Shepard hesitates at the door until Anderson breaks the stare to turn and smile at her.

“Shepard, there you are,” he says pleasantly. “Come in, all of you, there are some things we need to discuss.”

The six of them spread out through the office, the aliens hanging back while the marines approach the desk Udina and Anderson are seated at. Anderson motions Shepard at the only empty chair, and Shepard hesitates but takes it.

Udina settles his hands together in front of him and says, “Since you will need your own ship in order to chase down Arterius, Anderson has agreed to step down and pass commanding authority of the Normandy to you.”

Shepard frowns and glances from Udina to Anderson, but neither of them are giving anything away in their expressions. “Captain,” Shepard says quietly, eying Anderson intently, but he subtly shakes his head.

“The Normandy’s the quickest and quietest ship in the galaxy, Shepard, plus it already has a crew on board. It will be the perfect opportunity to put her through her paces since there’s been such a change of plans.”

But with this, the Normandy would officially be out of Alliance hands. Shepard serves outside of the traditional military hierarchy now, beholden to no one except the Council. If she wanted to, Shepard is legally allowed to steal a commissioned Alliance frigate, and no one would be able to stop her.

“I’m still Alliance,” Shepard says instead, largely to Anderson. “If they need the Normandy, it’ll be there, with or without me.”

Anderson’s eyes crinkle just slightly at the edges. “I don’t think anyone ever doubted that, Commander.”

Udina clears his throat, apparently tired of being left out of the conversation. “Arterius has all but vanished now, not long after your assault on Chora’s Den. Right now, we have no leads on where he’s gone, but we do have two locations of interest. One is a colony out in Attican Beta, Feros. Over two-thirds of the planet is covered in Prothean Ruins, and a colony has been recently built there to study them. Their parent company, Exogeni, recently lost contact after a report of an invasion of synthetics.”

“Arterius thinks there’s something in those ruins then,” Shepard says, “and sent the geth.”

“Yes, that’s what we’re assuming as well.” Udina nods then opens his ‘tool to show a picture of a pair of asari, one with an arm wrapped around the shoulders of the other. “This is Matriarch Benezia T’Soni, the other voice on the recording. The other asari is her daughter. She’s an archaeologist specializing in the Protheans.”

Shepard raises a brow, and Udina grimaces back. It seems almost too convenient that one of Saren’s supporters has a daughter researching Protheans. In fact, it screams trap, too glaringly obvious to not be bait for whoever is pursuing Saren.

“Doctor T’Soni is currently working on-site on Therum in the Artemis Tau cluster. The planet houses only a small colony; most of the interest in the planet is because of the ruins.”

“Sounds like we should head there first,” Shepard says. “If she is working with Arterius, she’ll go to ground as soon as she hears the news. We can’t risk losing track of her.”

Anderson gives a small, wry smile. “This operation is yours, Commander. You don’t have to appeal for permission. All we ask is you keep us updated. And the Council too.”

“Yes, sir,” Shepard says. She stands from the chair and turns to face her team, her team, and hesitates for a moment under the sudden crush of responsibility. She has a team, a ship, a mission to track down a rogue Spectre before he dooms the whole galaxy.

A hand on her arm breaks her from her thoughts, and she looks over to see Anderson smiling at her. “Be careful, Jane, and good hunting.”

Shepard smiles back at him. “Thanks, Captain.”