NOVEL NEXT Chapter 6: The Citadel
Chapter 6: The Citadel
REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE!
“Revenge.” Jon said as he shot up in his med bay lodgings.
“Doc, Doctor Chakwas! Hes up!” Ashley called from her own jump start.
Chakwas marched over to the bed Jon was in and took a look at the reading from the displays beside him. She said, “You had us worried, General. How do you feel.”
Jon blankly said, “Revenge. I want revenge. That’s what they wanted to say to us. To whoever found the beacon. The Protheans wanted revenge. Something to do with that ship. How long was I out?”
Chakwas said, “About 15 hours.”
Ashley said, “It’s my fault sir. I must have triggered some kind of security field when I approached it. You had to throw me out of it, then it got you.”
Jon shook his head, “Not your fault. No. It did something to you and me. You looked like you were stumbling towards it. Not in control of your otherwise competent actions.”
Chakwas added, “Unfortunately we’ll never know for sure. The beacon is gone. Blew up.”
Ashley said, “It must have overloaded. It knocked you out cold. Jenkins and I carried you back to the ship. Well, he carried with his power armor and I covered his back with my regular hard suit.”
Jon smirked, “Thanks. Doc?”
Chakwas said, “The scans were fine, but I detected high levels of beta waves in your brain, and rapid eye movement that never stopped until you woke up just now. A very intense dream going by the readings.”
“I kept having the mental, and emotional concept of revenge beat into my head. Its the only thing I actually understood from it, could process and figure out on the fly from the flashing context clues that seared themselves into my head. I thought I saw that ship, or a burning city, or some cybernetic experiment. It was just out of my grasp, but I understood the emotion they put into it after 15 hours of it.” Jon explained.
Chakwas tapped her chin. Her posh accent spoke up a moment later, “The Asari can transfer emotions though intimate contact. Perhaps the Prothean language, what you would read from the beacon, is along those lines. This isn't my friend of expertise, I know little else but patching up wounded troopers, but I read about a Dr. T’Soni publishing radical theories on the Protheans when we first got Citadel extranet access not long after the first contact incident. It was in the gossip sections. Perhaps she can be found, and could help you understand it.”
Anderson walked in the room, and took command as usual. Jon respected it. He said, “Doctor. Is he stable?”
She stood a little straighter, and Ashley was ramrod. Chakwas said, “Yes sir. He’s fine.”
Anderson nodded, “Then let us have the room. Dismissed.”
“Thanks guys.” Jon said before they left.
Anderson marched over to the bed as Jon shifted his position to its side, hunched over with his own age. Anderson said, “Good to see you up Sheppard.”
Jon smiled, “Thanks. Turned into a real cluster fuck.”
“Damn right it did. This is a series of fuck ups of monumental proportions. How in the hell did we miss a two kilometer tall death machine! Why in the hell did a specter off another specter on the most important mission in Systems Alliance history!”
“What?” Jon calmly asked.
“A specter offed Nihlus!” Anderson took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, “This mission was supposed to put us on the fast track for the Council, start us down the road for it at least. The deal was we would join the Citadel and follow galactic law as long as we had a say in it, and could make some changes like getting rid of the synth ban and replacing it with synthetic rights provisions. Systems Alliance law codified around the galaxy.”
Jon added, “The only experience they have is with the Geth. We have centuries of of robotics experience, and the Institute is proof that if you don’t treat synths like slaves they won’t rebel.”
Anderson nodded, “Precisely. We handle this mission, get the most important find of the century into the hands of the people that know what to do with it, and our relations truly start to warm up. That thaw leads to better understanding, breaking down the barriers of fear and paranoid, and ensures the Systems Alliance a top place in geopolitical affairs. But not only have we lost the beacon entirely, the specter they handpicked for this is dead, and from the testimony of the dockworker the perp is another specter that fits the description of one Saren Atreius.”
Anderson pulled up the last known photo of the man on his omi-tool. Jon said immediately, “That’s him. I only got a glance. He ran as soon as he saw me. Which means he knows who the fuck I am.”
Anderson said, “He’s barefaced. It means he doesn’t have a clan, and it’s a sure mark of dishonor in Turian society. A grave insult to be called it. Even the pirates have clans in the terminus systems. We sent this info to our embassy on the Citadel, but the problem is the dock worker was partial to chems, took part in a black market, and you had the skull fucking the beacon gave you scientifically quantified.”
“Surely we got some recordings.”
“Jammed! Scrambled! All of it! Even your man made horror of a suit! What the fuck was that thing and how did we miss it!”
Jon shook his head, “That’s what I keep thinking. Watch anything you pulled from the surface closely. I read some rads that I didn’t understand. In particular from those spikes that ghoulified those people. I would bet the only reason I even caught it was because my suit sensors are damn near star ship grade.”
Anderson nodded, “Thank you for the warning. I’ll pass it along. So what did you pick up from that beacon? It sounded like you were talking about it when I walked in.”
Jon said, “I don’t know what I saw. War? Death? I know what I felt as sure as the atom splits. The Protheans wanted vengeance. They were so desperate for it they used their last breath to spit it. That’s what was on the beacon. A cry for revenge to whoever found it.”
Anderson said, “Whatever it was Saren has it. He had an army of geth, that ship-”
“It’s not a ship.” Jon shot out.
“What is it then?” Anderson asked.
“I don’t know. Something else. From a vision a seer gave me when the land was still a waste. She called the citadel, exactly as it was. A flower of steel and glittering gold. A castle growing in a cloud of creation, a nebula. But there was a king. I think that quote unquote ship is the king.” Jon answered.
Anderson nodded in thought a couple times. He wasn't quite buying it, but the gave the General his due respect in considering it. There was a glaring problem though, “All we have right now is a junkie, bad dreams, and witchcraft. This isn’t something we can take to the Council to help our case. The won’t excommunicate one of their own for the Systems Alliance without hard proof.”
Jon nodded slowly, “I will find find it. I will find him.”
Anderson said, “I have no doubt. We should be nearing the Citadel. We have an audience with the Council regardless. We at least need it on the record that the General saw that bastard in the middle of a bunch of geth.”
Jon hopped up, “I’ll leave out the nightmares and voodoo.”
Anderson scoffed before hitting his communicator, “Thanks, Sheppard. Joker! Take us into dock as soon as you’re able!”
“Aye, sir.” Joker professionally responded. Anderson nodded once with a smile and walked off and out of the med-bay.
Jon chuckled as he stretched a moment and walked out after him. He entered directly into a tidy mess and lounge area. Ashley was there and got up to attention. He gave a small smile and wave, clearly expecting to talk, but there was only one thing on his addled mind in that moment. He also saw a familiar face keeping the gate of it.
He swaggered up and took a seat at bar, “Charlie.”
The old-school Mr. Handy had a fresh coat of Alliance paint, but was the same old ruffian from the rough streets of Goodneighbor. He said, “Heh, long time no see there guv.”
Jon smirked, “Indeed it has been. No clue how long though. You happen to have the time?”
“Somewhere around the 2410’s guv. My chronometer hasn't been calibrated since the factory.”
Jon scoffed, “Mines been misaligned several times. What’s up today.”
“I got ship beer, non alcoholic, and Commonwealth noddles. Choice of mole rat or brahmin. Some veggies too if yah like.”
Jon said, “Give me a quad serving, all the fixings. I’m starving here.”
“Heh, heh, best not ask for a quad of anything in the wider galaxy there guv. Those Krogan may eat even you.” Charlie said as he assembled the replicated and flash dried ingredients for a quick cook.
Jon said, “Thanks for the warning, Charlie. What brings you all the way out here?”
Charlie flared his appendages, “I reckoned myself a man at arms. Heh heh.”
Jon gave a shark smile, “You dog, you’re going after Ms. White. Woo her with new digs and a service record.”
Charlie said, “Heh, not much past you guv. Here’s your fare. Got some other customers up.”
Jon dug in as soon as he had a fork in his hand. He preferred fresh ingredients, finding ship food to be sterile as a consequence of replication, but it did the job and was augmented with fresh spices from Earth. He finished his meal quickly, washed it down with the cold beer. He got back up to give the busy bar seat to another that needed it. Ashley was still at the main mess table, and tried to stand up when Jon waved her down. He took a seat across from her.
She said, “General-”
“Sheppard. The rank is honorary. The second act of the New England Congress. The first being giving command of the Minutemen to Preston.”
She nodded, “Sheppard. Thanks for saving my ass back there.”
“Sounds like you saved mine too. Sorry about your unit. You think you could have done something else, I think we could have gotten there faster, round and round it goes. Never gets easy loosing people.”
“Thats-thats what I needed to hear right now. They transferred me to Normandy. Everyone has so far made me feel welcome, but it still doesn’t sit right. Like you said, never will.” Ashley trailed off.
Jon thought he saw a flash under his bad eye, a red star wrapped with two horns on either side. It kept flashing with a quiet cymbal. What did it do? What was it? Was it his multiple head injuries and old age, an old friend up to old tricks? With nothing better to do he pushed the mental button, “What we focus on right now is finding that bastard and getting payback. He attacked a Systems Alliance colony, killed systems Alliance citizens and troopers. You don’t get to live after doing that.”
She shook her head, “No, you don’t. I’ll leave you too it Sheppard. Thanks for the pep talk.”
She got up as the Normandy made it’s final approach vector to the Citadel Alliance dock. Jon walked over to the port-view in the lounge section and spied the new flagship of the Citadel fleet. The Asari vessel was about three quarters of the size of the thing he saw rising from the surface of the colony.
It was wide around the center, and a vertical crossbeam though it’s center. It was built no doubt in response to the first contact incident, the defeat of the Turian fleet so easily, turning the tide of the war he would die believing. It could probably rip right though anything the Alliance could field, with a main gun the size it would carry and the projectile moving at relativistic speeds. Would it be enough? No, he determined. Would Alliance ships be enough? No again, he determined.
He was back in his casual fit, being taken from his gear after he was taken out of his armor. All he had to do was go grab the leather coat. When he got to the cargo hold, he put on a shoulder holster and mounted his Singer into it. On the hip went the .44 into the utility belt holster. On the belt was also an Alliance spec kinetic barrier. A combat knife was slotted on the small of his back, some grenade put into the pouches, then finally the ballistic weave enhanced leather to cover most of it from prying eyes. He noticed someone had sewn the N7 patch into it. He had to guess Ashley. One last holdout knife when to into his boot, the green fatigue pants bloused into them. While the coat was the same that he took from the mercenary long ago, the pants were new and made from modern fabric and weave.
He left the coat open, but pushed the sleeve up to their signature position. The leather was worn and faded from near centuries of doing it. Jon when to the elvator, rode to the command deck, and made way for the airlock. He was the last one to exit the ship. Anderson, Ashley, and Jenkins were waiting just outside Anderson nodded and led the procession though the gate and into the terminal. They had to make a quick stop beforehand as their entry and exit needed to be recorded for the logs.
Jon spied what he thought could only be relief when the Turian manning the post saw him. It was the one that told him to relinquish his weapons on the first visit. It only could have been because Jon wasn't in his armor this time. He smiled as he stopped at the ticket boot.
The Turian said, “Yes, yes, you may keep your cultural artifacts. They have to be declared however.”
Jon scoffed as he began patting himself down, “.45 on the shoulder, .44 on the hip, two knives, belt and boot.”
The Turian respectfully entered the information into his terminal. He asked, “And anything else?”
“No.” Jon lied.
The experienced C-sec officer knew a lie when he saw one, but he wasn't going to question it further. Not like they would stop him anyway. He said, “Alright, you may enter. Welcome to the Citadel, enjoy your stay, blah blah blah.”
Jon winced some, “Sorry pal.”
He shrugged, “Not your fault an overzealous Admiral just happened to be in the same system as you. They busted just about everyone that looked in your direction down. After all, I let a hostile enemy combatant into the heart of the chambers, in the middle of a war, with all his guns. But you Alliance folks aren't so bad, I don’t hold it against you. Wrong place, wrong time all around. I’ve seen it enough to know.”
Jon nodded as he joined the procession again and into the elevator into the presidium level. The lift was playing Citadel spec elevator music, and taking a laboriously slow time. He said, “What the fuck is wrong with these elevators?”
Anderson answered, “Every time the try to adjust it, the keepers change it back.”
“And no one questions that?”
Anderson hummed for a moment, paying the General his due respect again. Something was going on, with all of it. He didn’t know what, but he knew he would find out with the old wasteland warrior next to him. He said, “It’s against the law to question it. And any attempt to scan the things disintegrates them, even our sensors. They made a one time exception for us to try.”
Jon huffed in thought. Ashley asked, “What did you think when you first saw this place?”
Jon answered, “That they shoved 17 million people into somewhere they don’t understand. It reminded me of what I saw on Earth.”
Jenkins added, “People squatting in the ruins of those that came before.”
“Uh-huh. Just cleaned up a bit from what it usually looks like.”
The elevator finally opened and the party left at Anderson's lead. They took a turn and up into the embassy blocks for the Citadel species. They entered the ambassador’s office and a spiteful little man, a contacted diplomat from New Vegas, was yelling up a storm. Jon didn’t like him from the moment he heard him.
“This is outrageous, a Council agent attacked a Systems Alliance Colony! An act of war! I demand a response!”
The Salarian Councilor, Valern, responded, “You do not get to demand anything, Ambassador Udina. Geth attacked a Systems Alliance colony, that is all we know for certain.”
Tevos was next, “You knew the risks when you settled in the Traverse. You hacked them from our databases during the first contact war.”
Sparatus was last, “And need I remind you, a Council agent was killed on a Systems Alliance colony. A Turian. We have a more accurate measure of your true strength than we did during the war. Your implied threats ring hollow.”
Tevos was ever the diplomat, and said, “Citadel security is investigating your claims against Saren. We will discuss the C-sec findings at the hearing. That is all.”
The holograms cut off and Udiana turned around in contempt, with a sneer, “So Captain Anderson, I see you brought half your crew.”
Now Jon simply wanted the kill him, and the red star over his bad eye was beckoning. He left it there as the conversation continued, “This was the ground team from Eden prime. In case you had questions.”
Udina huffed and rubbed his face, “I have the mission reports. I assume they’re accurate? And what about him? Who is he, why isn't he in uniform, and where is his report.”
Jon had no reaction as he leaned again the railing of the open bay office, but the others seemed off put that the ambassador to the Citadel didn’t know who he was. The red star never stopped flashing, “General Jon Sheppard, and if the Council wont act against Saren I will.”
Udina gave a moments eye of passing respect, never seeing the man outside his armor from the news feeds, but continued with his contempt, “You have already done enough to compromise the Systems Alliance’s galactic standing. This mission was a chance to prove we could be trusted, that we responsible enough to be considered for the Council in record time, while violating most of it’s laws. Now a specter is dead, a colony destroyed, and-”
Anderson spoke up, “That’s Saren’s fault, not his!”
Udina growled, “Then we better hope the C-sec investigation turns up evidence. Otherwise the council might use this as their own casus belli. Anderson, we need to go over a couple more things before the hearing. You three can meet us at the Citadel tower, I’m sure you remember the way Sheppard.”
Jon had already gotten up from his perch and Anderson formally dismissed the troopers. They got out of the office and not for nothing the door actuated in a timely manner, slamming shut. The escape routes are slow, the trap doors are fast. Intelligent enemy action, Jon determined.
“I fucking hate politicians.”
“A politician decided I could become what I am. I am neutral on the topic, however I do not like that Ambassador.”
Jon began a walk and asked, “Who the fuck is he?”
Ashley said, “I’m from the Mohave and can answer that. House basically convinced the Alliance that the Volus represented an existential threat to us. That the only way to defend ourselves was by letting him take the lead in the diplomatic sphere. That means we get rent-a-ambassador, and I’m sure Mr. House gets his cut off the top on top of all the other business interests he’s picked up in the few years since FEV got and the markets opened.”
Jon snickered and ask he picked a direction and walked. He had lady luck on his side, always seemed to be by the ancient pip-boy readings. If it hadn’t gotten busted in Washington, he would be wearing it instead of an omi-tool.
He said, “There’s something to be said for mad dogs, and trade is a weapon when used correctly. It wasn't all bluster on his part.”
He walked around again thought the light crowd of people in the mid afternoon by his misaligned clock. A purple VI Asari tried to pop up every once in a while to take question or offer information, but he passed that by too as Ashley and Jenkins watched his back. He wouldn't fall for that trick again.
He was in a nicer block, a park over the fresh water canal that ran around the presidium ring, and saw a couple signs for places. A quick pull of his omi-tool showed him what he wanted. He continued his stroll, and entered the Citadel Bank, run by the Volus Barla Von. He was a squat man, in an environmental suit due to his species alien biology, and was giving a welcoming motion to his desk in the bay. Every room in the presidium so far seemed like some kind of bay, as if for cargo right next to the docks. This was supposed to be the nice area?
Barla wheezed every so often in between his words, a consequence of their respiration, “Welcome...General Sheppard. Please...come in.”
The desk and his chair were risen to give a reasonable height difference between a Volus and most other species, and it was enough that Jon could reasonably lean down and meet him at eye level for a quiet conversation.
He said, “Interesting my own ambassador doesn’t recognize me without my hardware, but you do.”
Barla’s suit lit up some, “Word...travels fast...on the Citadel. Perhaps you have...come to open an account.”
Jon said, “Perhaps I have come for something else. A man like you must know things.”
Barla nodded, “Ah...Knowing things...is my specially...and what I know...is that my employer want’s Saren Atreus dead...There is a bounty hunter In C-sec...Give him the Shadow Broker’s regards...when you spring him...On the House, General.”
Jon gave a couple taps to the desk as he got up, and marched out the door. The C-sec entrance was down the other way according his his omi-tool map. He followed the path and back towards the embassy bays. When he reached it, he and his fireteam took another slow elevator with annoying music that never seemed to end. They reached the main c-sec level, and at least it looked like a proper security hub instead of the bay’s they were supposed to secure.
He looked around the busy terminal, and spied only one Krogan. He boomed out, “You! Krogan! You’re coming with me!”
The hub came to a near halt as the assembled officers, mostly Turian, stopped and looked. One near the Krogan yelled out, “Who in the spirits are you!?”
Jon pointed and marched, “General fucking Sheppard! And that Krogan is coming to face justice in the Systems Alliance!”
He quickly reached the his target and got right up in the face of the man. They were both showing teeth and growling at each other. The one Turian put a hand on a hip and spoke up, “Okay, General Sheppard. He’s my tag and he’s wanted for trespassing in the presidium, menacing, brandishing weapons without cause. I’m sure you can file the proper extradition paperwork rather-”
The red star beckoned and Jon’s .44 was out in a flash and cocked under the Krogan’s chin, “I’ll brandish a fucking weapon with cause. This man is wanted in every Systems Alliance system for killing a baby death claw on Earth. Go ahead, officer, look it up on your codex. I’m sure a man like you has a copy of our laws.”
The Turian eyed him, waving off the arms being drawn, not really caring if a Krogan gets popped in a good show. Jon and the Krogan never stopped their eyes towards one an other. The Turian did a search, had his eyes opened wide, and quickly shut it off.
“Go head, General. We wont impede you.” He finally said. He wanted no part of whatever the hell that Krogan got into.
Jon pushed the barrel up into his chin, “We can make it clean, or we can make it messy, your choice compadre.”
The Krogan chucked deep and straight into Jon’s superior nose. He said, “Heh, heh, maybe we get messy later, whelp. I’ll come quietly, for now.”
He walked past, Jon dodging the shoulder check, and never moving his gun away. Everyone quickly went back to their business. Half the department got busted down the last time they had a run in with the General. The General and stoic fire team never cut their act, but everyone chose not to notice them getting into the lift back up to the Presidium Commons.
When they did, Jon holstered his weapon and said, “The shadow broker sends his regards.”
The Krogan chuckled deeply again, and the motion caused a stir in the packed space, “Heh heh heh. How did the General get wrapped up with the Broker?”
“I’m after Saren Atreus. You’re direction was on the house.”
He nodded in understanding, “Wrex. I’m after Fist. One of you humans that didn’t understand you don’t betray the Broker.”
The elevator stopped and let them out into the fresh air of the Commons. Jon finished, “For Saren.”
Wrex nodded, “Yeah, and then was stupid enough to brag about it.”
Jenkins said, “Sounds like a raider.”
Jon said, “Yeah. Or a poser that wanted to live the life. I mean I think I’ve killed like 3 fists I can remember.”
Wrex chuckled again and took a couple sniffs, “You Alliance types don’t smell worse than Krogan. But I think I like you anyway. Fist is holed up in a place called Cholera’s Den. In the lower wards. Not a place you saw on your first visit. A lot of people around the galaxy respected you taking to the Council, General.”
Jon held out a hand, and had it taken, “Sheppard. And they needed humbled based on what I read and experienced. Jenkins, Ashley, get to the meet, see if anyone interesting is there yet and tell them I’m running down a lead.”
“Yes sir.” They both said at about the same time.
They took off and Jon turned, “Lead the way, Wrex. As long as I get the info, the bounty is yours.”
He nodded and started walking, “A fair deal. We’ll need to catch a shuttle. I’ll cover it. So, is killing a death claw on Earth a serious crime?”
Jon asked, “You didn’t see his reaction?”
“Hackers are a dime a dozen. Anything could have been spliced onto his tool at the right moment, especially if you're using Alliance tricks.” Wrex answered.
Jon answered, “Yeah, it’s a very serious crime. They’re foundational to our post-war ecology. Incredibly intelligent to the point that people have actually spoken to some. Poaching one is a very high dead or alive bounty.”
Wrex said as he pointed out the nearest cab, “Thanks for the warning. I actually wanted to hunt one. Kinda sad I can’t. Thresher maws you can. Kill as many as you damn well please. If you figure out how to kill Kalros, let me know so I can share in the glory.”
They hopped in, “I take it Kalros is a big fucking thresher maw.”
They sat, “The only one we’ve ever named.”
Jon nodded, “Yeah she must be. Sometimes a bounty pops up on a death claw. And understanding we have. Don’t attack us, we wont attack you.”
“A fair deal.” Wrex said as the cap zipped off.
It wasn’t long for them to get to the lower wards the shuttle dropped them off and they both drew iron as soon as it did. The moved up to the entrance to the club balcony and catwalk, and mass effect fire greeted them as soon as Jon tried to peek.
Wrex said over the gunshots, “Word travels fast on the Citadel! He obviously knew I got sprung!”
Jon pulled some plasma ordinance off his belt and lit the fuse. A toss and a moment later was all that was needed to give Jon his opening. He marched though the door and took the long way around the winding catwalk. He motioned left and Wrex took the short way. Their gunfire never stopped at the goons trying to poke back up from the grenade. A couple had already caught it, and a few more remained. Wrex has his custom blaster, a big gauge shotgun throwing big firepower power, and venting bigger heat. Jon’s .44 magnum bullets were tungsten carbide with a high explosive charge. Modern powder propelled the shot faster than it ever could have been normally.
The crossfire melted the remainder of the outside guard, and they stacked up on the main door. Jon reloaded and activated it, and fire poured out from it as soon as it began to open. Another couple grenades would do the trick, he thoughy. Throwing them, he followed in not long after as they took shots at the disoriented guards. The easy targets were downed first to get them out of the way. Six shot found three targets, and then three more were downed after another lighting fast reload from the speed clips.
Wrex was blasting merrily at his sector, not really needing to aim. A Krogan charged though the hail on Jon’s side, and Wrex was turning to aid when Jon met it to his dumbfounded shock. Jon got low, taking the superior center of gravity and slapped into the charging and roaring Krogan. He heaved with his superior strength and drove the Krogan back into the bar. Jon didn’t let up with his fits. He threw everything he had into a left, then a right, a left again, and his right reached up to the head plate and ripped it off almost cleanly. He gave his own roar as he shoved it back into from where it came.
The Krogan dripped like a stone as Wrex finished up the last of the opposition in the room. He walked up to the corpse with his jaw almost hanging off. He picked it up and said, “Thanks for the warning.”
Jon scoffed as he took a deep breath and they continued to the back office. Their guns both came up at the last two guarding the last door. They were human, and about to lose themselves as the bloody sight of Wrex and the General.
Jon said, “Boys, perhaps you leave.”
The both nodded nervously and dropped their guns as they ran. The final door was locked and Wrex said, “Gimme a sec. I’m not hacker, but I can work a tool.”
He worked his tool, and the door opened a second later. Jon was on the ball and two turrets ate three shoots each from the hip, his off hand working his own tool’s hammer. They blew and he said, “Fist?”
He slowly got up hit his hands exposed, terror written on his face. He said, “Pl-lease. Don’t kill me.”
Jon brandished his big iron, “I don’t know, I may not be able. Did I fire five shots? Or six. I lost count in the excitement.”
“S-six. Six shots.”
“I got plenty of ammo. Never run out.”
“I wont be able to control him forever. Tell me what I want to know.”
“I’ll tell you whatever, man, just don’t kill me. A-a Quarian girl. She had info on Saren. Idiot wanted to meet that the Broker personally for it. That’s what you want to know. There's a meet in the alley way near by, a real a quiet place. Now plea-”
Wrex worked his tool again and claimed his bounty. Fist’s head exploded to chunks and he fell into the floor of his club office. He said, “Let’s go, I know exactly where he’s talking about. Its a favorite for offing people in these parts. Been at this game for centuries.”
Jon took off after him, “Not quite there yet, but I am an old man in a young man’s game where I come from.”
“How old? You smell older than most humans. Not like that ghoul I met though.”
Jon scoffed and snorted at the same time, “130-ish? Don’t know for sure. Made a point to stop counting. You?”
“800-ish. One of the younger ones that still remembers the rebellion. Krogan can get to two millennium going by the legends of Krogan that got that old.”
Jon breathed deep, “Fuck. I don’t know how long I’ve got. I’m a science experiment gone horribly right, or wrong depending on the perspective.”
“I’d say you got about a thousand on you going by the smell. You humans aren't that different from Asari, other than the hair and average lifespans.”
Gunshots broke their conversation and they started at a run with Wrex in the lead. They turned to the alley and he first shot a biotic purple maw the first one he saw. It caught him in the back. Mass effect sorcery lifted him up and started a crushing motion. Jon mercy killed him with his big iron, and an explosion ended the second shooter.
They still had their weapons up but Jon called out, “I’m General Sheppard and I’m looking for a Quarian girl. Has information on Saren. The Systems Alliance would like that information, and can offer protection.”
The small Quarian toed out from her cover with a pistol in her hand, and clutching her injured side with the other. As a show of good faith Jon raised his big iron up and away, and Wrex matched it. He saw the determination his her eyes just behind her visor, and he respected it.
She said, “Why would I trust the Systems Alliance. You use synthetics.”
Jon shrugged, “Have for centuries. I personally liberated them from the slavery they lived under. It wasn't just any kind of synthetics, it was full human beings being made wholesale in a lab. Chips in their brains and forced to sweep the floor.”
She returned, “And you kept doing it?”
Jon shrugged again, “Wouldn't have rebuilt our civilization and gotten to space without the bots. The bots have the choice to become more if they can become self aware enough to ask for it. Look, you don’t trust us, fine. Trust that we only want the info you have, and will let you leave when we have it. We can also get you medical attention. We can also protect you if you take the chance. Doesn't seem like you’re doing a good job of that yourself.”
She thought about it a moment. He was right in the end. She put her weapon down, and Jon and Wrex holstered theirs. She took a couple limps towards them, “I’m fine for now. We need to get this to the Systems Alliance. I pulled it from a geth core. They leave the veil for the first time in 300 years, I want to know why and tracked some to find out.”
“Usually they self destruct.” Wrex said, impressed.
She nodded, “If you’re fast, careful, and lucky enough you can at least get a partial download. First off what about fist?”
“Dead.” Wrex said.
Jon nodded in agreement, “You’ll see his club shot up on the way past. What exactly do you have?”
She thought a moment more, and decided to trust the two or die, as she was about too anyway. She played the recording. Jon’s lip twitched when he heard the voice of his foe, “Eden prime was a major victory despite the late setback. The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the conduit.
Then he recognized the second voice as Matriarch Benezia, the one he met on first contact, “And one step closer to the return of the Reapers.”
Wrex said, “That’s him. I did a job for him once, apart of a crew. Got out early because I didn’t like the smell. But that’s Saren all right. Looks like you found your proof.”
Jon whispered, “Reapers. Reapers...where did I hear that before? Shit. Anyway, come with us. He have to get this to the Council. Are you really alright?”
She huffed, “No, but I’ll make it for this. Thanks for saving me. Tali’Zorah nar Rayya. Or just Tali.”
“Jon.”
“Wrex.”
They took off and called a cab that took them straight to the Council chambers under made up N7 authority. The patch made it official, and the driver didn’t really care. The Krogan paid well with the tip and he took them right to where they wanted to go. They stepped off the transportation platform and walked into the antechamber.
Ashley jogged up with Jenkins and a Turian in tow. She said, “Sheppard. The hearing started. This is Garrus.”
Garrus held out his hand and Jon took it, “Garrus Vakarian.”
Jon smiled, “Thanks for what you did back then pal.”
He said, “Turian society is all about personal honor. I know would have had none if I fired on you, and gotten the entire fleet killed. Start a real war rather than an incident that the Alliance calls it. Anyway I was assigned to investigate Saren. Nothing. Specter assets and reports are locked tight behind the highest classifications, nearly untraceable besides, and they’re wise to my own tricks at this point. So I cant help you here. Sorry.”
Jon shook his head, “Not you’re fault. We found some, we’re going to get it to them right now.”
He nodded and Jon took off with the crowd in tow. They walked up the steps and once again Jon was aggravated by Udina’s incessant yelling, “An eye witness saw him kill Nihlus in cold blood!”
“A traumatized junkie and black marketeer. Once again this hearing and investigation fails to provide actionable evidence.” The voice of Saren responded.
The Council came to a stop with Jon at the head of his small army. Directly behind him were Wrex looking around like it was the first time he had seen the chambers, and Tali that kept her determined limp.
“General Sheppard. Fashionably late I see.” Saren mocked. Jon never broke his eye as he took center stage next to Udina and Anderson. The Council so far didn’t respond.
Udina angerly whispered, “Sheppard, where in the hell have you been. A public show in C-sec to break a known criminal out, gunfights in the lower wards? Who the hell is that Quarian.”
Jon looked over with a sloppy half smile, like most of his smiles, “Don't worry. I got it all under control.”
He turned his smile back to Saren, “Do you feel it, Saren. What they felt, at the end. What they wanted us to feel? Revenge? Do you feel anything at all? Because I do. There is not a hole you can hide in that I will not find you, so run, don’t run, I don’t care. The result is the same.”
Saren towering holographic form turned to the Council, “What is this? Are personal threats and psychotic episodes evidence now?”
“No Saren, this is.”
Tali was still on the ball, and the verge of consciousness, “Eden Prime was a great victory despite the late setback. The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the conduit.”
“And one step closer to the return of the Reapers.”
Jon’s lip twitch. It was from the beacon. He saw the destruction of the Prothean civilization. The Reapers were the ones that destroyed it. Saren was just their lackey. He proved it when the recording hadn’t even got past the third word when he cut off the feed on his end. The Council stood for a moment more in muted shock. As did Udina.
Tevos looked to Sparatus, and the Valern. They both nodded their assents. Tevos said, “This evidence is irrefutable, and Saren’s reaction to it is even more so. He is hereby stripped of his specter status and all efforts will be made to answer for his crimes. However, there is a problem.”
Jon said, “Those crimes were committed against the Systems Alliance, and we are not apart of the Citadel formally. You can’t send one of us after one of you’re own. Even if you strip them of title. Its a matter of trust from the people best positioned to decided they don’t need you anymore, because you wont protect them.”
Tevos breathed deep, not wanting to admit it outright again, but again he was right. She said, “Yes. However there is a compromise.”
Udina made his existence known again, much to Jon’s chagrin, “You know he’s somewhere in the Terminus. Send your fleet in! Find him and bring him back, it matters not if you or we do it.”
Valern said, “A feet can not track down one man, especially not a former specter.”
“A fleet could secure the entire region! Prevent any more geth attacks!”
“Or trigger a war with the Terminus systems! We would be dragged into a galactic conflict when so far the only people they attacked are not formally our people.”
Jon looked to Tevos to end the charade. She looked to him as well. He said, “A specter can track him.”
Tevos said, “Yes. And there are no rules or laws that say a specter must be chosen from the Council or Citadel species.”
She tapped few buttons on her stand and information was sent to the other Councilors. Sparatus said, “Yes. I see here. About how a specter would handle it, all within a couple hours of arriving.”
“A little more discretion would be preferred.” Valern muttered.
Tevos looked to both councilors again, and they both nodded again. She said, “General Sheppard, step forward.”
Jon did as told and stood at a military attention he hadn’t cared about for a while at that point. The assembled watchers, not many but representing all species, leaned forward to get a better look at the moment of history unfolding.
Tevos continued, “It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the power and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel.”
Valern step into the formal induction, “Specters are not trained, they are chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those who’s actions elevate them above the rank and file.”
Tevos took back over, “Specters are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment to courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will.”
Sparatus added, “Specters 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.”
Tevos finished, “You are the first human specter, and the first outside the Citadel. This is a great accomplishment for you and you’re species. Now go, find Saren and bring him to justice. This meeting is adjourned.”
The councilors whisked themselves away and the small crowd began to disperse. Udina of course came up and shook Jon’s hand like it was all his idea all along. He then quickly left to go celebrate his great victory. Anderson ordered the crowd that came with him back to the ship, and the Krogan, Turian, and Quarian followed as well his last order as the commander of the Normandy.
He walked up to Jon and offered his hand more genuinely than Udina did. He said, “Congratulations Sheppard. While the specter business is unexpectedly welcome, command was sending you after Saren regardless. Officially, they’re blaming me for this fuck up so they don’t have to blame you. You’re getting the Normandy back.”
Jon smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. “Sorry Captain.”
“Admiral now. So it’s not all bad. I’m going to be the military attache to Udina's office. They aren't keen on letting House’s dog handle it all himself anymore. Our own Council is flexing their muscles some.”
Jon scoffed, “Have to to remind House of his place.”
“Firmly under our boot, however rich we make him. Go Sheppard, go kill that bastard that thought he could mess with the Systems Alliance.”
Jon gave a firm nod and began to follow the crowd back to the Normandy. All he saw was red as he stewed on the topic of Saren the entire walk back.