#there's a turian in the council chambers

[n7-zero]

2: Embers of Humiliation

Humanity’s victories at Shanxi and Arcturus shake the galaxy, earning admiration and fear. The turians vow revenge, the Council debates their place, and whispers of hope and chaos spread. AO3

Palaven

In the shadowed halls of Turian Hierarchy High Command on Palaven, the aftermath of the Battle of Arcturus reverberated like a seismic shock. The Caladrius was gone—a loss that rippled beyond the battlefield and struck at the very core of turian identity. For centuries, their military precision and invincibility had been unchallenged, their fleets a symbol of galactic order. Now, that illusion lay shattered.

The Primarch sat rigid at the head of the council chamber, his mandibles twitching as murmurs of disbelief echoed around the table. The war-room holoprojector displayed the wreckage of the Caladrius , its glowing remains orbiting Arcturus Station—a testament to humanity’s defiance. The assembled generals, admirals, and councilors stared in stunned silence.

“It’s not possible,” Admiral Garrun said, his talons raking the polished wood of the table. “The Caladrius —our flagship . She wasn’t just a ship; she was a fortress. What weapon could they possibly possess to destroy her so utterly?”

The question hung heavy in the air.

“They’ve sent us a message,” said Councilor Sparatus, his voice low and cutting. “The humans want us to know they can hurt us. That they will hurt us if we underestimate them again.”

The room erupted in anger.

“Underestimate them?” General Kallus spat, slamming a fist onto the table. “They’re primitives, barely out of their atmosphere! This was no victory of skill—it was luck. Trickery! Nothing more than a savage’s flailing!”

The primarch raised a hand, silencing the outburst. His eyes, sharp and calculating, moved from face to face before settling on the glowing debris field in the projection. “Luck does not destroy a ship like the Caladrius . Luck does not dismantle a disciplined fleet. This was no accident. The humans are more dangerous than we believed.”

The room quieted, the truth of his words cutting through their outrage.

“What’s worse,” Sparatus added, his mandibles tightening, “they’ve turned the galaxy’s eyes on us. The Council will not see this as a mistake of humanity’s overreach. They will see our defeat.”

The primarch nodded grimly. “And they will question our strength.”

Another voice broke the silence—cool and detached. “The Council’s opinion is secondary.” All eyes turned to Primus Korvin Sedaris, his presence cold and commanding. “This is about us. The Hierarchy. The people of Palaven.”

Korvin gestured toward the projection of the Caladrius , its splintered remains spinning in a silent dance of humiliation. “That ship was more than metal and weaponry. It was a symbol—of order, discipline, supremacy. Humanity has destroyed it . They’ve stripped us of our pride in a single blow.”

A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by Korvin’s deliberate steps as he moved toward the display. “And what do we do when our pride is wounded?” His voice dropped, a razor’s edge of anger sharpening his tone. “We rebuild it. We make them bleed for every scrap of glory they think they’ve taken.”

The generals nodded, their outrage coalescing into determination. Even the primarch inclined his head slightly, recognizing the need to harness their humiliation into something greater.

“What do you propose, Primus?” Sparatus asked, his tone edged with both respect and challenge.

Korvin’s mandibles flared, a predatory glint in his eyes. “We strike back—not in anger, but with precision. If they want to play games of cunning, let them. We will remind them why discipline prevails. We will rebuild the fleet, stronger than before, and this time, we will leave them no room for clever tricks. Humanity will learn that their audacity has a cost.”

“And the Council?” Garrun asked, his voice gruff. “If they see us escalate—”

“The Council will do what they always do: speak and deliberate while we act,” Korvin interrupted sharply. “The turians have always been the galaxy’s shield. We will ensure that shield is reforged, sharper than ever. Let the humans bask in their fleeting triumph. When next we meet, it will be their worlds that burn.”

Fedorian regarded Korvin for a long moment before speaking. “Very well. Begin drafting plans for fleet reinforcement and deployment. But temper your actions, Korvin. This was not only a loss of steel, but of perception. The humans have seen our pride falter. If we act too rashly, it will be seen as weakness.”

Korvin inclined his head, though his mandibles twitched in irritation. “I will deliver results, Primarch. And when the time comes, humanity will not forget the name Palaven.”

The meeting dissolved into tense discussions as the council outlined strategies to recover from the blow. Outside the chamber, the turian public simmered with anger and shame. News of the Caladrius’s destruction spread like wildfire, each report igniting outrage across Palaven’s cities. For the first time in living memory, the turians felt vulnerable.

And in the shadow of that vulnerability, something darker stirred—a resolve to reclaim their place, no matter the cost. The name Gideon Shepard, whispered with venom and fear, became a rallying point. To the turians, he was no hero. He was a stain, a shadow that dared to mar their legacy.

And shadows, the turians vowed, were meant to be eradicated.

Citadel Council Chambers

The Citadel’s grand Council Chambers, a space of imposing architecture and quiet power, felt heavier than usual. The holographic display at the center projected the aftermath of humanity’s recent actions: the shattered remnants of the turian fleet from the Battle of Arcturus, and the striking victory of the human forces in liberating Shanxi.

The symbols of humanity’s defiance loomed large, as did the name Gideon Shepard.

Councilor Tevos of the asari, her voice calm but resolute, broke the silence. “The liberation of Shanxi and the Battle of Arcturus have reshaped the galaxy’s balance of power. Humanity has demonstrated ingenuity, resilience, and the capacity to stand against the most disciplined forces of the Hierarchy. We cannot dismiss this lightly.”

Councilor Valern of the salarians tilted his head, his sharp gaze flickering between the display and his notes. “Their actions are… notable,” he said, his tone measured. “At Shanxi, they coordinated a daring counteroffensive to reclaim what was lost. And at Arcturus, they defended their colonies against impossible odds. Such persistence is admirable, though their methods have raised questions.”

Sparatus, the turian Councilor, leaned forward, his mandibles tightening in a rare display of frustration. His voice, edged with disdain, carried through the chamber. “ Admirable ? Shanxi was an embarrassment to the Hierarchy, yes—but that does not erase what came after . At Arcturus, they didn’t fight with honor; they relied on deception. The destruction of the Caladrius —our flagship—wasn’t a triumph. It was a disgrace. They exploited our trust in order and discipline. If anything, their actions prove they’re dangerous.”

Tevos met his glare with a calm, diplomatic tone. “Councilor Sparatus, humanity did what any species would have done in their position: they fought for survival. Shanxi was an occupation they could not abide. Arcturus was a battle they could not afford to lose. Should we fault them for refusing to surrender?”

Sparatus’s talons rapped against the table in irritation. “Refusal to surrender is one thing. Manipulation and ambush are another. The Hierarchy has maintained galactic stability for centuries. And now, a species barely off its homeworld challenges us with tactics that undermine the very principles we uphold. What message do we send by rewarding this?”

Valern’s mandibles flicked slightly, a salarian sign of thoughtfulness. “Perhaps the message is one of pragmatism . Humanity has proven that it will not bow easily to force, nor will it remain stagnant. Their liberation of Shanxi and their victory at Arcturus were not achieved through brute strength alone, but through ingenuity. To dismiss such resourcefulness outright would be… short-sighted.”

Sparatus’s voice sharpened. “And what happens when their ‘resourcefulness’ turns against us? Do we wait for them to undermine the very order we’ve built before taking action?”

Tevos interjected, her voice soothing but firm. “Councilor Sparatus, humanity’s rise is inevitable. Their victories at Shanxi and Arcturus have ensured that. The question before us is whether we embrace their potential and guide their integration into the galactic community—or risk pushing them into isolation and resentment.”

Sparatus leaned back, his expression hardening. “Guide them? You mean invite them into the Council? That would be an insult to the Hierarchy. The Caladrius , the crown jewel of our fleet, was destroyed under Gideon Shepard’s command. Do you truly believe the Hierarchy will stand for this? For decades, we’ve been the shield of the galaxy. Now you want to give equal footing to a species that has humiliated us?”

Tevos’s gaze softened, though her tone remained resolute. “Councilor Sparatus, pride must not blind us to the larger picture. Humanity has shown its resolve. Shanxi proved they can reclaim what is taken from them. Arcturus showed they can defend what is theirs. To deny their strength is to invite conflict.”

Valern steepled his fingers, his sharp gaze unblinking. “Tevos raises a valid point. Humanity’s inclusion may temper their ambitions. Exclusion, on the other hand, could push them to seek alternative allies or build their power independently. Both outcomes carry risks. Yet one offers a chance at stability.”

Sparatus’s mandibles flared, his voice cold. “You call that stability ? Humanity does not understand discipline, only desperation . They’ve wounded our pride, humiliated the Hierarchy, and now they stand ready to exploit it. If we fail to act decisively, we will regret it.”

Tevos sighed, her composure unshaken. “Acting decisively does not have to mean rejection. Humanity has proven it belongs at the table. Shanxi and Arcturus were not just battles; they were declarations that humanity will not be ignored. Let us not turn them into adversaries when they could be allies.”

Sparatus shot back. “Allies? No. They are a threat to everything the Hierarchy stands for.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by Valern’s calm, calculated tone. “Perhaps we should delay a final decision until the dust has settled further. Observing humanity’s next moves may provide clarity.”

Tevos inclined her head, though her disappointment was clear. “Agreed. But we must not delay too long. Inaction has its own consequences.”

Sparatus’s gaze lingered on the holographic display of the shattered Caladrius , the wreckage spinning silently in the void. For the turians, it was a scar that would not heal—a stark reminder of their vulnerability and humanity’s cunning.

The Council adjourned, the chamber heavy with unresolved tension. As they departed, the galaxy outside watched, waiting to see if humanity would be welcomed as equals—or shunned as a rising threat. In the shadows of the Council’s indecision, the seeds of alliances and rivalries began to take root, shaping the course of galactic history.

PRESIDIUM

The Presidium, with its pristine walkways and tranquil gardens, was abuzz with the subtle hum of speculation and tension. Conversations spilled across tables at cafes, rippled through crowded plazas, and whispered beneath the artificial sky. For once, the seemingly untouchable tranquility of the Citadel’s heart felt strained, as if the galaxy itself held its breath.

The topic on everyone’s lips? Humans.

Asari

Clusters of asari intellectuals gathered around holographic news displays, their eyes flicking with intrigue. For them, the humans were a tantalizing enigma, a species newly revealed yet shrouded in mystery.

“Two victories against the turians,” one asari scholar mused, her voice tinged with both admiration and skepticism. “They’re either brilliant tacticians or dangerously reckless.”

“They defeated the Hierarchy’s fleets,” another added. “That’s not recklessness—that’s competence. Maybe we should extend a hand before they become a problem.”

Others nodded, their expressions ranging from cautious approval to open excitement. The asari, with their long history of integrating new species into the galactic community, saw opportunity in the humans.

“They’ll need guidance,” an elder matron remarked, sipping her tea. “If the turians hate them this much already, humanity will need allies. And who better than us?”

Salarians

At a bustling salarian research hub, clusters of scientists and analysts debated over data feeds displaying snippets of battle reports and fragments of intercepted communications.

“They defeated the turians, yes, but how?” one salarian demanded, his voice rapid-fire. “What weapons? What strategies? We don’t have enough data.”

“Unverified reports suggest they used stealth tactics at Arcturus,” another replied, tapping furiously on a datapad. “That could indicate technological innovation—or improvisation. Either way, it’s notable.”

A younger salarian chimed in, eyes wide with curiosity. “Do we know their population size? Industrial capacity? How much of this was luck, and how much was actual capability?”

The elder of the group finally spoke, his voice calm but pointed. “We know too little. A species that can surprise the turians is one worth monitoring— closely . If they’re as resourceful as they appear, they could be valuable allies. Or dangerous adversaries.”

Turians

The turians who roamed the Presidium carried themselves with an air of wounded pride. Conversations among them were hushed but heated, their mandibles twitching as they passed groups of asari and salarians.

“This…humanity,” one turian spat, his tone venomous, “has humiliated the Hierarchy. Twice.”

“They defied us, insulted us, survived us,” another growled. “That doesn’t mean they’re strong. It means they’re lucky.”

An older turian, his voice low and sharp, countered, “Luck doesn’t obliterate fleets. We underestimated them. If the Council even considers welcoming these upstarts, they’re inviting chaos.”

“Let them try,” the first turian snapped. “We’ll show them what happens to defiance.”

Yet beneath the bluster, there was a shadow of doubt—an unspoken acknowledgment that humanity had exposed cracks in the Hierarchy’s armor.

Elcor

In a quiet corner of the Presidium, a group of elcor diplomats stood together, their slow, deliberate speech contrasting sharply with the fervor around them.

“With measured concern: A new species that defeats the turians twice suggests potential instability,” one rumbled, his deep voice carrying a faint edge of worry.

“With careful optimism: They may bring balance if integrated properly,” another suggested. “The turians are overdue for a humbling.”

“With deliberate skepticism: Or they may destabilize the entire Citadel system. We must observe carefully before choosing a stance.”

Hanar

The hanar, ever reserved, floated near the fountains of the Presidium, their bioluminescent patterns flickering softly as they communicated.

“This one wonders at the implications of this species’ emergence,” one hanar remarked, its voice as calm as a ripple on still water.

“Perhaps the Enkindlers guide them,” another mused, its tones reverent. “The turians’ pride required tempering. This one suggests patience.”

Volus

Volus traders huddled together, their conversation punctuated by the faint hiss of their pressure suits.

“Profits will rise if they join the Council,” one speculated, his voice nasally and excited. “New trade routes, new markets.”

“But if they bring war?” another retorted. “The turians are already reeling. Imagine the chaos if humanity destabilizes the Council.”

A third volus chimed in, pragmatic as ever. “Chaos brings opportunity —for those who plan.”

For the ordinary denizens of the Citadel, humanity’s emergence was a cocktail of intrigue, fear, and speculation. Many marveled at the resilience of a species so new to the galactic stage, while others whispered about the potential dangers they posed.

“Did you hear? They’re called humans. Can you believe they stood against the turians?”

“I heard their colonies were almost wiped out.”

“But they won. Twice!”

“Twice isn’t survival—it’s provocation. What if they’re reckless? What if they bring the turians down on all of us?”

“What if they’re just like us, once upon a time? Struggling to find their place.”

THE WARDS

In the Wards, the emergence of humanity sparked a thousand different reactions—some hopeful, some fearful, and some dismissive. But one sentiment underpinned them all: curiosity. The galaxy’s newest species had arrived with a bang, and whether they were destined for greatness or disaster, no one could ignore them.

Krogan

The krogans, gathering in dimly lit bars and open markets, showed a mix of grudging respect and simmering bitterness. These were warriors who knew the weight of battle—and the sting of being sidelined.

“They beat the turians twice?” a krogan growled, his deep voice rumbling through the smoky air. “Hah! Maybe they’ve got some fight in them after all.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re smart ,” another snorted, downing his drink. “Opening a relay without knowing what’s on the other side? That’s stupidity, not strength.”

“But they’re still standing,” a third krogan pointed out, his scarred mandibles twitching in what could have been a smile. “That’s more than we can say after the salarians and turians were done with us.”

Yet beneath their grudging acknowledgment of humanity’s resilience, there was resentment. To the krogan, the idea of another species rising to prominence while they remained shackled by the genophage was a bitter pill.

“Bet the turians’ll invite them to the Council before they even look at us again,” one krogan spat. “Just another race to look down on us.”

Quarian 

Among the scattered quarian diaspora, the whispers about humanity carried a different weight. For a people forced to wander the stars, the emergence of a new species was a potential ally—or a cautionary tale.

“They fought the turians and won,” one quarian murmured, his voice distorted by his helmet’s speakers. “Maybe they’ll understand what it’s like to be on the outside.”

Another quarian shook her head. “Or maybe they’ll just see us as scavengers. Like everyone else.”

“But they’re new,” a younger quarian pointed out, his voice tinged with hope. “They haven’t had time to hate us yet.”

A silence fell over the group, the weight of centuries of exile pressing down on them. For the quarians, humanity was a blank slate—a species that might one day extend a hand, or turn its back like so many others.

Batarian 

In the shadowy corners where batarians traded whispers of smuggling routes and power plays, humanity’s rise was met with thinly veiled contempt.

“Another upstart species,” one batarian sneered, his four eyes narrowing. “They’ll learn their place soon enough.”

“They think they’re special because they beat the turians?” another added, his tone dripping with disdain. “That just means the turians are weaker than we thought.”

But even as they mocked humanity, there was a grudging undertone of wariness. The batarians, ever attuned to shifts in power, recognized that a species capable of standing up to the turians might eventually upset the balance in the galaxy—and disrupt their carefully laid plans.

“Keep an eye on them,” one batarian advised, his voice low. “If they’re as reckless as they seem, they’ll burn themselves out. If not…well, we’ll deal with that when the time comes. ”

Drell

In the shadows of the Wards, a few drell whispered among themselves, their sharp minds parsing the implications of humanity’s emergence.

“A species that surprises the turians,” one mused, his green skin gleaming under the flickering light of a neon sign. “That is not to be underestimated.”

“But will they thrive?” another wondered, her voice soft and contemplative. “Or will they crumble under the weight of the galaxy’s expectations?”

For the drell, humanity’s rise was a reminder of their own struggles—a fragile spark of hope tempered by the harsh realities of survival in a galaxy that rarely forgave missteps.

Speculation rippled through the Wards as humanity’s name spread, whispered among elcor merchants and hanar priests alike. For the elcor, the humans’ strength was undeniable, yet their inexperience left a shadow of doubt. “With cautious interest: A new species brings both opportunity and risk,” an elcor trader murmured to a colleague, his ponderous tone betraying a hint of unease.

The hanar, ever philosophical, viewed humanity with reverence cloaked in uncertainty. “This one wonders if they are guided by the Enkindlers,” a hanar priest intoned to a gathering of followers. “Their emergence seems fateful.”

Yet not all shared such intrigue. The keepers continued their silent work, indifferent as ever, their enigmatic presence untouched by the concerns of sentient beings. In their scuttling movements, there was no acknowledgment of humanity at all.

[freedombeginsathome]

Mass Effect The "Series" S01 | Ep.24 Race against Time (Season Finale)

As the battle rages on, Shepard and the crew rush through the conduit, braving the relentless onslaught of Geth and Krogan clones. Using magnetic boots, they scale the Citadel tower under heavy fire, determined to confront Saren and stop Sovereign's destructive invasion.

Upon reaching the council chambers, Shepard attempts to reason with Saren, hoping to break the hold Sovereign has over him. However, the indoctrination and implanted technology prove too powerful for Saren to resist completely. In a last act of redemption, he struggles against Sovereign's control and sacrifices himself, severing the connection.

With the knowledge that Sovereign's weakness lies in the Citadel arms, Shepard rushes to the master controls and opens them, allowing the Citadel fleet to attack. Now faced with a critical decision, Shepard must choose between calling the Alliance fleet to save the Destiny Ascension, the pinnacle of Citadel fleet power, or focusing solely on attacking Sovereign.

Countless thoughts race through Shepard's mind in a matter of seconds. The turian fleet desperately needs support, the council and refugees on the Destiny Ascension are in dire peril, and the vessel itself is an invaluable asset. However, there's a larger symbolism at play. The choice made by Shepard will be a defining moment for humanity, demonstrating that they are more than just selfish and ambitious individuals. Saving the Destiny Ascension, while sacrificing human lives, will show that humanity is willing to put the greater good above its own interests, setting an example for the entire galaxy.

With determination, Shepard makes the call to save the Destiny Ascension, knowing the consequences of this decision. Afterward, the remaining ships concentrate all their firepower on Sovereign, engaging in a fierce battle for the fate of the galaxy.

Meanwhile, in a desperate move, Sovereign transfers its consciousness to Saren's corpse through the implanted technology. The ancient machine aims to regain control of the Citadel and eliminate Shepard, who has become a formidable obstacle.

The fate of the galaxy hangs in the balance as the epic battle unfolds, with Shepard and the crew standing as humanity's last line of defense against the Reapers.

[octerminal]

having many many many many me1mele thoughts

mele “spoilers” below - if you’re wanting to avoid hearing anything about the remaster, ignore this post!

i am OBSESSED with photomode

literally, i have been playing all day and i haven’t even recruited anyone but ashley yet because i’ve just been taking pictures of everything

sorry who is saren? what’s a spectre candidacy? commander shepard is busy building her photography portfolio on the citadel call back later

i didn’t think i was going to make gifs because i’m still playing on console and i didn’t really want to make gifs til i made the switch to pc so they could look Nicer(tm), but i genuinely think not being able to gif the uncharted worlds is going to kill me

might settle for photosets as a compromise

i haven’t even reached the uncharted worlds yet anyway but when i do that’s also going to kill me

i was worried i was going to miss the red skies on eden prime but i actually find i didn’t mind the change nearly as much playing through it myself so i’m glad i held out finalizing my opinion on that

eden prime was stunning - i said this on twitter, but it’s really become the paradise the game repeatedly tells you it is. walking through that reminded me of how i feel exploring the uncharted worlds

sovereign looked massive and imposing taking off on eden prime, so much more than in the original game

i’ve always loved me1′s citadel the most but this remaster is taking it to another level

i am out of control i have taken like a dozen pictures of the bar area in flux alone

in general the improved graphics has extended the unique magic me1 has that none of the other games do for me to everything - like everything just feels so lived in. you really feel like this is an inhabited, sci-fi world. for some reason, i never really feel that way in me2 until maybe when i’m on the citadel again (and even then, it pales in comparison to me1) - and i never feel that way in me3 at all, which is understandable because it’s very much a linear war story

i am very, very, very excited to get to feros and noveria and bring down the sky and ilos in particular. i know virmire is going to be beautiful but i can’t say i’m excited for it because i do not want to see anyone die in HD

it was a useless dlc and it’s objectively no major loss but oh i am very much mourning even more now that i won’t be able to see shepard’s crappy apartment in HD

oh the sniper rifle overhaul is lovely. granted, i’m a weirdo who’d adjusted to me1′s terrible combat enough that i actively found it enjoyable but the fact i no longer have to put points into sniper rifle just to make it not be all wobbly is wonderful

in general i’m finding the combat improvements fun - i’m using grenades way more than i ever did previously this early on already - but again, i already liked me1′s combat at this point so it doesn’t take much to please me in that regard

i have not driven the mako yet and i am very excited to drive the mako

that being said: i am displeased with both kaidan and ashley’s appearances and i do think they have been whitewashed. there’s something about ashley’s face that also looks different to me but for the life of me, i can’t place it (is it her eyes? are they smaller? does anyone else know what i’m talking about or am i just imagining things?)

i also think the decision to give kaidan the salt and pepper hair in me1 is a weird choice, but not a particularly egregious one or anything. i’d much rather the whitewashing be fixed

in general, it’s by far not the worse they could’ve given us (my biggest fear was that they’d import their me3 designs and retroactively apply them in me1/2) but it’s something i’m definitely hoping someone smarter than me fixes with mods

did anyone else notice they got rid of kaidan’s little smile if you tell him the beacon thing wasn’t his fault? this doesn’t bother me but i thought it was an interesting choice

the normandy mess hall has lesbian lighting now and no i will not elaborate on that

oh yeah: what is up with the asari????? why do they all have that dreadful black eyeshadow??? is 2183 the year for raccoon eyes in asari fashion??? WHAT is going on????

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- We’re the Best

“This is Unit Delta-5-9!  We need immediate reinforcements!  We’re getting torn up over here!”

“Copy that, Delta-5-9.  Who are the hostiles in your area?”

“Commander Shepard is here!  Repeat, Commander Shepard is here!”

“Copy that.  Anyone else?”

“There’s one guy in some sort of silver armor.  With a spear!  He’s tearing up our guys like it’s no problem!”

“...repeat last.”

“Yes, he’s got a spear!  And there are these two guys in trench coats, too!”

“What are they doing?”

“Uh… dancing?” “...”

“And there’s some other guy, too.  He’s moving too fast for us to track, and… where did he go?”

“Hello.” 

“Wha-” [Several gunshots are fired.  Transmission ends.]  -Transmission Intercepted from Attacking Force Delta by combined Quarian/Starfleet/Mechanicus operatives

“The elevators in this place are so goddamn slow.”  Shepard shrugged at Drake, a move which made him bump against Vir.  

“Yeah, I know.  Cramped, too.”  

“Got that right,” muttered Quill as he jostled for position with Cooper.  Drake sighed and activated his wrist computer.  

“Might as well do something useful.  Ordelphine!  Saul!  Whoever the hell’s up there.  You might have heard, but we have problems down here.  Every available crewmember is to deploy with full… everything.  Heavy weapons, heavy armor, tell Garang to wear the power armor, and get Kraiker, Mark, Oliver, and Muelka to get down here with all their stuff.”  He paused for a moment, then pressed the transmit button with almost indecent haste.  “And tell Muelka to not set anything on fire!”  He shrugged at Shepard and Quill’s curious expressions.  “I think it would be best if my crew and I were remembered for saving the Citadel, not blowing it up.”  Vir shrugged and nodded.

“Makes sense.  Actually, I ought to get my crew down here too.”  He tapped the communications button on the side of his Iron Eye helmet.  “Simone!  Cannon!  Get the Marines, Valhallans, and Drev clan down here!  This is a full battle.  Extended combat operations, so be ready for that.”

“Understood, sir.  I…  uh… Conn wants me to tell you that… “A vampire masturbating in front of a mirror.  Bet you didn’t see that coming.”  What the hell?  Conn, you little-”  Vir shook his head.

“It’s fine.  So as long as he stays there.  We don’t want to freak too many people out.”  

“Yes, sir.  Although that means I’m stuck with him,” responded a slightly put-out Simone.

“Have fun!” replied Vir with a bit too much cheerfulness than was required.

“I’m sure I will, sir.”  Vir released the comms button on his helmet and shook his head again.  

“I’m not so sure I want to meet Conn,” intoned Quill.  

“Take my advice and just… don’t,” replied Vir.  Quill nodded. 

“Fair enough.”  he rubbed his chin for a moment.  “At least I don’t have to contact anyone.  Everyone from my ship is in the other elevator.”

“Maybe you should have gone with them,” muttered Cooper as he jostled against Quill once more.  

“No.  Drax is there, and he takes up way too much space as it is.”  Shepard shook his head at their banter, and activated his comms as well.

“Miranda, get the ground team down here.  The entire ground team.”

“Should I come along as well?” replied a woman’s Australian-accented voice.  Shepard considered for a moment.

“Yes.  Tell Joker not to get the Normandy too beat up while we’re gone.”

“Understood, Commander.”  Cooper looked over from where he was pressed against the glass.  

“So, we have that down.  Now what?”  Shepard activated a button, and a glowing orange hologram sprang to life around his left arm.  He pressed something else, and a map of the Citadel came up.

“We’re here.” He tapped near the Council chambers.  “There’s a pretty hefty attacking force outside, fighting C-Sec officers and Turian shock troopers outside.  We clear the attackers, set up a space where shuttle reinforcements can land, and proceed from there.”  Everyone nodded.  

“Well, that’s a better plan than most of what we do.”  The group looked at each other speculatively.  

“Yeah.  Yeah, it is,” said Quill.  “Reminds me.  Have I ever told you about the time where I saved the galaxy with only 17% of a plan?”  

Elsewhere on the Citadel

It was decided that Master Chief would take up the rear, as eight feet of muscle and Mjolnir armor would be a reasonable deterrent for most pursuers.  There had been a short but intense argument over who would lead, but Kirk had suggested a combined force of bodyguards to placate everyone.  

Now, a group of various bodyguards led the delegates through the under-tunnels of the Citadel to safety, with Cain, Kirk, and Solo sprinkled throughout the formation.  The delegates murmured to each other, careful to not let their words be overheard.  Each had groups of powerful special forces soldiers at their command, and each was wondering what to do with them, or if and when to deploy them.  

“Councillors!  We are under heavy fire!  Some of the C-Sec officers have turned traitor, and the attackers are taking more of the Citadel.  We need reinforcements!” came a desperate cry over the communication systems.  Sparatus, the Turian Councillor, replied immediately.  

“Hierarchy soldiers are currently on the ground.  We’ll send more, but it will take a while for their shuttles to get there.  You’ll have to hold,” he replied curtly.  Several other diplomats heard the exchange.  Normally, many would not have lent their forces to the fight, but if it meant the difference of getting out alive or dead, it wasn’t even a question.

“Captain Faro, this is Thrawn.  Deploy our troopers immediately.  Have TIE’s escort the shuttles.  Keep the Destroyers in a holding position.”

“Captain, this is Agent Omicron.  Have the ODSTs ready to drop immediately.”

“Watch Captain, this is Inquisitor Vail.  Order the Scions to deploy in high altitude grav drop.  Have the Kill Team and the Assassins ready in the teleportariums.”

“Captain, this is Marder.  Have the Pilots stand ready in their Titans and be ready to deploy.”

Elsewhere on the Citadel

The elevator sounded a clear, high ding! and the doors slid slowly open.  

“Fucking finally,” muttered Drake.  The next elevator over sounded a similar chime and disgorged Quill’s crew, looking none happier than the Scoundrels over the slow ride down.  The sounds of gunfire and screams filled the air from just beyond the indoor plaza at the foot of the Council Chambers.  “Well, back to something I know better.  Actually…”  Drake’s face turned into a sly grin.  “Tali!  Scotty!  Can you two give me control of the P.A. system?”  

“Why do you want the P.A. system?” came Scotty’s, well, Scottish bur.  

“Uh… psychological warfare?”  There was a pregnant pause on the other end.  Drake tried again.  “For funsies?”  

“...fine.”  There was another pause.  “You have control Drake,” came a very tired sounding Scotty.  

“Wonderful!” replied Drake, utterly delighted.  “Now, here comes the fun part.”

------------------------------------------------

Major Viter of the Turian Hierarchy cursed as a bullet chipped the wall he was kneeling behind.  The Cerberus attackers and traitor C-Sec agents had his combined forces of Hierarchy soldiers and loyal C-Sec agents pinned down in front of the Citadel Tower.  They had held well enough for the past ten minutes of grueling firefights, long enough to give the Council and the other delegates enough time to escape.  Viter didn’t care much for the other diplomats, but he had been ordered to hold, and death was a preferable alternative to disobeying those orders.  Another volley of fire raked the wall, and he shrank back from it.  Cerberus was getting crafty.  They knew the Hierarchy shock troopers were far superior to the C-Sec agents under his command, so they endeavored to keep the Turians pinned down for as long as possible.  Not good.  He turned to his left and yelled at his communications officer.

“Where are those reinforcements?  We can’t hold the tower without them!”  

“They’re still ten minutes out!  And that’s not including the time it’ll take the shuttles to find a safe landing zone!”  Viter cursed.  “But someone said we have additional reinforcements en-route.  Some kind of special team,” added the communications officer.  Viter calmly shot down a traitor C-Sec agent who was stupid enough to poke their head in the open before turning back.  

“What kind of special team?”  But before the comms officer could replay, the Citadel’s P.A. system fizzed to life.  Cerberus, C-Sec, and Turian soldiers looked up with confusion as an unmistakably human show tune started to play.  

“Yippie yay!  There’ll be no wedding bells for today!”  There was a flash of electric blue, and a Cerberus trooper took a shot to her head, which promptly melted, complete with horrifying screams from its wearer.  Viter looked back to the Tower’s entrance.  Standing there was a black haired, black coated human wielding a silvery, triple barreled rifle.  Flanking him was another masked and trenchcoated human, a small (about up to viter’s knee), rodent-like creature holding a full-sized machine gun, and… Commander Shepard.  Back from the dead?  To borrow a human expression: Oh boy.  This just got interesting.

  As the abominably cheerful tune continued to play, a figure clad in solid grey metal armor and some massive, bare-chested, grey and orange humanoid alien ran past Viter at speeds he didn’t think were possible for a biped to produce.  He did a double take.  They were holding a spear and two knives respectively.  Did they have a death wish?  The Cerberus and C-Sec attackers seemed to think so, as they stepped forward as one to cut the running figures down.  

With no warning, a man wearing a strange set of advanced-looking armor materialized beyond a Cerberus trooper wielding a machine gun, drew a pistol, gave a cheerful “Hi!”, blew the back of the trooper’s head apart, and disappeared.  Farther down, a Cerberus combat engineer looked down at his chest, where a lithe blade appeared through his breastbone.  A green-skinned alien woman gave him a surreptitious wink, and, before his comrades could react, faded into oblivion.  

Within the space of a second, the attacking line devolved into panic.  The gunmen behind the running figures opened fire, forcing the Cerberus personnel to keep their heads down as the two sprinting figures collided with them at full tilt.  

The grey figure’s spear slid through a trooper’s neck armor joint, producing a gurgled sigh as he crumpled to the ground.  The silvery figure spun around, and with pinpoint precision, impaled another Cerberus trooper through the joints of her armor.  The massive grey humanoid went flying into a group of traitorous C-Sec agents with reckless and utterly terrifying abandon, stabbing wildly.  

The green-skinned woman appeared once more, and gracefully cut down two Cerberus soldiers with just as many strokes of her keen-bladed swords.  The Turians and loyal C-Sec agents were now all firing at the disorganized attackers, Shepard was killing with horrifying, lethal accuracy, the rodent-creature was cackling maniacally as it fired it’s huge machine gun, the two trenchcoated men were dancing along to the music over the P.A. system while firing off precise, perfectly timed-to-the-beat shots, there was a walking tree now that was impaling people with wooden growths from its arms, and the man in advanced armor, who had been appearing and disappearing was now running on the walls, almost horizontally, supported by only thrusters on the back of the suit and a hand held out for balance.  In short, utter mayhem.  

The man hopping from wall to wall jumped down and kicked a Cerberus trooper with enough force to crack her helmet.  The grey armored man and green-skinned woman impaled two more opponents with perfect synchronicity.  Viter overloaded a Cerberus soldier’s shields, then shot him in the head.  The last enemy, a panicking traitorous C-Sec agent, turned and ran, only to be gunned down by the black coated human.   

The grey armored figure removed their helmet to reveal the cheerful face of a green-eyed, blond-haired human man.  Shepard and he walked over to Major Viter, who turned and stared at them with an expression that was equal parts confusion, shock, and gratefulness.  

“I’m assuming you’re the team that was sent to assist me?” he asked.  “Pardon me asking, but who exactly are you?”  Shepard opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the black coated man.

“We’re the Magnificent Scoundrels, and we put the laughter into slaughter!”  Shepard’s mouth moved spasmodically for a few moments before the blond haired man stepped in.

“Don’t… don’t listen to… him.”  The black coated man shrugged.

“Yeah.  I get that a lot.”  Shepard rolled his eyes.

“We’re a team made up from a variety of different governments present, and we’re here to help take back the Citadel.”  Shepard looked around, experienced eyes taking in the mayhem around them.  “What now?” he asked Viter.  Viter’s mandibles moved in an expression that Shepard recognized as turian thoughtfulness.  

“Well, we press on and clean up the Citadel.  But we,” he gestured at the group, “Can’t do it alone.  We’re going to need help.”  Shepard and the blond man shared a knowing glance.  

“Don’t worry, ‘cause help you’re going to get.” 

If you have any comments, questions, concerns, criticisms, questions, or requests, feel free to tell me.  For the curious, the song is called “Jingle Jangle Jingle.”  I recommend finding the Fallout New Vegas version ‘cause apparently it’s the only remastered version on the internet.  

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: In Your Head, In Your Head, They are Dyin'

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

Geez, open my big fucking mouth much? Oh Jane, could you go to the Citadel? But why shouldn't you? You said you had spent time there; you're the one person who knows how to get around. She half-assedly kicked at the locker at the foot of her cot, besides, Rogers is too green. We need someone with experience leading the team. It would be best if you kept busy; civilian life doesn't agree with you.

They couldn't order her around.

Jane craned her head, taking in the entirety of the beam that would catapult her into the Citadel. A frown was the sole betrayal of her panicked nervous system, she would never be ready to go back there. But this was not the time for fear, not when Biotic's Division looked to her guidance. At least she could hide the apprehension- they looked like they could piss themselves at any moment. Jane knew the beam wouldn't lead to death but they were not so confident. It seemed insane, she got it.

Roy and Helen talked amongst the students, leaving Jane some time to collect herself. The last time she had approached the beam the entirety of Hammer had died to get her here, it seemed too easy now that it was a simple jaunt down a hill.

"You sure this thing won't vaporize us?" Roger's question interrupted her solitude.

"I'm not saying it's going to be pleasant, or you'll like what we're going to find-" distress crossed the 2nd lieutenant's face, this was the wrong approach, "if Anderson's team could make it to activate the Crucible, I think we will be fine. Besides, think of the bragging rights- being the one to restore communications with the Citadel, and eventually with the rest of the galaxy. It's not a small thing."

"But I'm not leading the operation," Rogers's hadn't taken the forced deference to the Recruit well.

"Believe me, kid, you'll be glad for all the calls you didn't have to make." She had refused to lead on principle, even after several others had tried to guilt her for refusing the mission. Jane wouldn't have stepped up if not for a series of harsh conversations from Mr. Alenko, most of them implying he would take the mantle if she would not, "get the team into place, we leave in two."

Roy and Helen naturally separated from the group, not away from the mass of students but toward her. Roy led a step ahead and Helen fixing her with the usual judgmental stare from behind her husband.

"I'll be fine," the woman snapped the M-77 into a ready form, "it should be easy."

"Be careful."

How many times had she heard that? To boot, in the same somber tone. The last time, so physically close to where they stood now. It was an odd irony that his father stood closer to the beam than Kaidan had managed to get.

"Thank you," regret was a hell of a thing, so unprompted she grasped his hand unflinching under that whiskey-hued gaze. For a blip of a moment, she looked forward to coming back. Hope returned in a microdose.

The students lined up as ordered, each reaction as individual as the person who stood before the blue light while they wouldn't argue with the mission: it didn't mean they had to trust it. Jane would question flinging herself blindly into the beam, she had at a couple of points. On Illos, she at least had the Mako to give her the illusion of safety, here for the second time only experience made her undaunted besides the emotional toll.

"Alright, the mission is simple. Meet with Bailey or whoever is left in charge. After that, we worry about setting up the long-range commlink," it was better to put this off as a simple run, when things got complicated, they would deal with it then, "on arrival, where exactly we'll end up is a mystery. This functions much like a Mass Relay, so small groups and make sure your ass is out of the way."

Jane nodded to Rogers and the female that stood beside him, "anyone else want to go first?"

She didn't wait for a reaction before sauntering brazenly into the beam.

The Spectre had thought she was used to running into the unexpected. She had made a career of dealing with the strange, but awe of circumstance truly never went away. This time it was far more physical than expected. Pulling herself over the lip and onto the metal path, water violently expelling from her nose and mouth. If she were a little more with it, she would have pulled a gun on the Keeper scuttling by- but she was a little more focused on breathing. The next concern was the two in line behind her; one was lucky and ended up straddled over the railing the next erupted from the water much in the way she had.

Once it was clear all was fine, Jane rolled onto her back. Dark laughter barking from her diaphragm. It was a far cry from the body-lined hallways and corridors she had dreamed up, the relay monument looked down on her. God, she felt nauseous. Her sides didn't stop seizing until all breath left her body, eyes stinging with tears. Rolling to all fours, then finally upright the world swirled into sudden clarity.

This was the Presidium. Behind her, the partially broken statue that honored the krogan. A white spire jutting into the sky, a brave blue flower standing tall, heat speckled metal walkways, and the white-walled building. Her fingers raked through a tangle of wet hair, shook out her pistol, pulled Rogers from the railing, and tightly squeezed her fist until the twang of her muscles bid for release. The relay fired again, splashing followed, and the approach of footsteps came from her right side. The tepid water running down her face made pinpointing smells impossible, but she could sure taste the strange flavor of the unfiltered liquid.

"Holy shit."

"See, you should have never doubted me."

The Lieutenant did not find it quite so humourous.

"Lighten up, Kid," she remarked blithely, turning her attention to the squad that corralled them into the center of the walkway, "it's nice to see C-Sec arrive promptly."

The turian officer scoffed but lowered his weapon, "Bailey will want to see you."

"Good, we're looking for him."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"How is it always you?" Bailey hardly looked up at her, "but I've got to admit, nobody else is crazy enough to walk through a beam on foot."

The man was one of the few who could recognize her immediately, even with grown-out and natural hair. He had seen the scarring left behind after the Lazarus Project before they had faded for the first time. It took only a little imagination to see past the more extensive facial scars.

"The first or second time?"

Bailey's head craned up, concern crossing his face, "Com-"

Jane waved a hand, "please, Bailey, that person is gone. Let her die with her crew."

The concern grew behind the glow of his omnitool "if anyone ever asks, you waved your Spectre status in my face. But I don't think you are here to catch up."

"No, I am not."

The team back on Earth had tried to reconnect with the Citadel, but all attempts to reach them had failed. So a mission to the station became necessary. Bailey attempted to skirt the subject, but life on the Citadel was not easy. Slowly some peace was restored but at a snail's pace. Whatever jammed the comms slowed any hope of a unified force on the station. It also explained their failure to find a tech expert who might fix the issue and perhaps the lack of a Spectre or someone of a higher rank to authorize it—security measures as usual were great until they hindered progress.

"I'll need you before you try and disappear again," Bailey warned, swirling the scotch in his lowball glass. He figured this was special occasion enough, even if the hero returned as little more than a ghost.

"I'll consider it my retirement party," she mused, finishing off the bitter liquid, "seems easy compared to a Reaper invasion."

"Nothing with you is ever simple."

"Hell, this could all be a dream... for both of us." It felt a little cold for a dream, but it was all surreal. For now, she put it off as walking old hallways and the memories of the companions that haunted the place.

"The scotch must be hitting you hard."

"I haven't hit the hard stuff since-" the statement crossed into territory painful for both of them, "but I say there is no time like the present. Must be driving my squad nuts waiting."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Shepard before-"

Jane flinched, and Bailey retracted for a moment. Equal parts confusion and frustration with the jumpy woman. Perhaps it was time, untold horrors of war, or the alcohol that made her weird, if not mentioning the other multitude of reasons the Spectre seemed off her game. She went by a different name to the men she led, and it was becoming apparent the problem was far out of his wheelhouse.

"I have to give it to you plain, we found Anderson's body in here. It looked like he was shot."

"I know."

She had shot him after all. For a long time, she had tried reasoning that it was not her fault; after all, the Illusive Man had made her do it. Those strange cybernetic eyes had stared at her in her dreams, one of the thousands of voices taunting her. Those blue eyes had found her again as she walked the hallways to the Council Chambers.

"He must have activated the Crucible before he died, it's funny because we all assumed you had done it."

Jane hadn't activated the Crucible. That was true. Maybe Mary had; it was all a little foggy.

"We gave him the best funeral we could, I can take you there later if you like," Bailey offered, trying to rouse her with a touch.

Jane shook her head, "another time, this is enough."

Too much.

Bailey nodded, falling behind a few paces so she could absorb the room. Mentally, she remarked on little other than it had become a bit overgrown in disuse and that she liked it better without the constant trickle of running water.

"Nothing unusual up here, Ma'am," buzzed the comm.

"Roger, roger."

"It wasn't funny, even when the Major did it."

Fine, "hold position, I want eyes on anything that could go wrong. I'll place the shunt."

Jane moved slowly across the catwalk, the face staring at her accusingly grew clearer as she approached. The simple frame wreathed in upkept foilage, plants, and candles of all sorts making up an altar. She tried to move through littered petals and papers with reverence, but some wound up disturbed fluttering into the pit below. Jane crouched to cradle the picture gently, "Admiral."

Her blue eyes scanned upwards, resting on the bloody handprint covering the virtual interface sensor.

The total weight of another being crashed onto her, attempting to wrestle her from the catwalk. Even after weeks without combat, Jane dislodged the man with ease throwing him over the unprotected edge. The unnatural steel blue eyes, shocked with bright blue patterns, brimming with fury. Quickly as they had entered her vision, the figure went still and dark.

Coldly, empty, she returned the broken frame to its spot. Her complete attention turning to the console that lit up at her presence. The only break from her attention was the dramatic slam of her fists on the sides of the railing behind the console- it wasn't working.

Before she could release her temper upon the undeserving railing again, a keeper nudged her aside. Compiling the necessary commands with ease, the sudden noise of a system erupting in a blastwave. As quickly as the creature arrived, it scuttled back away. Leaving Jane to complete her task.

Bailey looked over the ledge, approaching the woman slowly once he was satisfied.

"Commander Bailey, you should have access to all Citadel systems," her bright blue eyes turned to him with a terrifying hollowness, "don't make me regret it."

"You- but, he," Bailey swallowed, running a hand over his cropped hair, "it's never simple with you."

He grabbed her arm before she slipped by him, "take this."

"I should go."

"Don't worry, you weren't here," he called after the stumbling figure.

Jane didn't recall stumbling back through the relay, or for that matter, picking her way back to the mall. Or the time she had left, or if she had bothered to warn anyone in the meantime. Reality was a persnickety thing at the moment, failing to anchor her securely to the present.

It was dark, the mechs hadn't stopped her, and not even her body was warning her of exhaustion. It was all instinct.

The room she stole into, that was not so much a call of instinct but of desperation. Her world grew colder, and it was beginning to tumble at a speed that she could barely withstand.

"Rahna."

Nothing.

"Rahna."

"Jane?"

[yungidreamer]

Always

This is a gift I made for someone for Christmas and I thought I would share it here in case anyone might have fun with it here as well

Summary: After the defeat of the reapers, Garrus is left without his soulmate, and wants nothing more than to have her back.

Wordcount: 4.8k

Content warnings: Very angsty, missing your soulmate and being stuck in memories of the times you had together.

Text in bold is a flashback and plain text is present time. The italic section is a ‘dream’ (meaning maybe real, maybe just a dream, you can decide).

Garrus ran his fingers over the texture of the name on the memorial. Shepard. The name was etched more deeply in his heart than it was on the large memorial he stood in front of now. The sounds of London buzzed distantly around him, barely penetrating the fog of melancholy that wrapped around him.

In this place the defenders of all life in the Milky Way galaxy made their last stand. Too many were taken in the battle to preserve life itself, but their sacrifice will never be forgotten.

For all the moments we have, now and into the future, we give them thanks.

***

“Welcome aboard Garrus,” Commander Shepard said, giving the turian a quick nod. “Glad to have you.”

That moment and those words, spoken with such a casual friendly warmth, had been a changing point he could never have anticipated. Stepping foot on the Normandy and getting out of the C-Sec rules that felt more like shackles than useful guidelines, had been his first moment of finding himself. There was never a boring moment and, damn if Shepard didn’t have a way of challenging him, challenging the preconceived notions he carried around without thinking about it.

Shepard just… made him a better person.

***

“Still glad you left C-Sec,” Shepard’s voice echoed behind him in the docking bay. A smile spread across his face and he straightened up from his work on the MAKO.

“No question,” he responded, the trill in his voice carrying his humor. “Being free of all the red tape and regulations has been amazing. I finally feel like I can actually make a difference. Get things done.”

“You do remember that there are still rules here, too, you know?” Amusement suffused her voice.

“Yeah, I understand,” he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I feel like your  rules make a lot more sense. They aren’t stopping you from saving people or letting bad people go just because of some silly technicality.”

“Rules exist for a reason,” she reminded him firmly, but still a tinge of understanding in her tone. “But I know the frustration of feeling like things are slipping through the cracks because the rules leave no space for judgement.”

“Yes, exactly,” Garrus sighed, relieved to feel like someone understood. “I understand the reason for rules but… it all just feels like red tape at some point. If you aren’t hiring people who you can trust to have good judgement, maybe you aren’t hiring the right people.”

“Even good people can make bad judgements,” she pointed out. “It’s too easy to get caught up in being sure that your judgement is clear when you are neck deep in something yet still only know half the story.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Just having to see the consequences of people getting away and causing more misery all because the rules and the paperwork and the regulations got in the way. I hate it. I hate… being helpless to save the innocent.”

“It’s never possible to save everyone,” Shepard commiserated. “All we can do is our best. Most of the rules are there to keep us from making the same mistakes other people have before. We get to make all new ones. It’s just part of being human… or turian, too, I guess.”

“Right,” Garrus laughed. “I should really get back to this.”

“Of course,” She nodded, taking a step back. “We can talk more later.”

***

“Has your father accepted your choice to leave C-Sec?” Shepard asked as she watched him work on the MAKO.

“As much as he ever will, I think,” a tinge of bitterness flavored Garrus’ voice. “He’s like C-Sec personified. He’ll never understand or respect someone who doesn’t fit into his system.”

“Don’t write him off just yet,” she cautioned good naturedly. “He probably only really got to see the bad sides of people who didn’t follow his rules and his way of doing things. I think you might be surprised at how he comes around… eventually.”

“You have more faith in him than he seems to have in me,” he sighed bitterly.

“Sometimes it can be hard for a parent, especially one who also is accustomed to authority outside the family as well,” she replied. “For them to accept when their children don’t just follow their same path. Give it time and you’ll be able to show him that your choice was good too.”

“I’d ask you to talk to him for me,” he chuckled. “But like I said before, he doesn’t like spectres even more than he seems to disapprove of my life choices.”

“I can understand,” she shrugged. “He probably saw the consequences of rogues and rule breakers more than anyone else. It would make anyone wary of seeing the same in others.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, turning to face her. “He saw the worst in people every day and I know there was more than one corrupt member of C-Sec he had to take down from the inside.”

“I’m sure more than one of them started out just bending the rules to make things easier or just to get things done,” she sighed. “I can understand how it would be hard for him to see it as more than just a slippery slope.”

“I know, I get it, I really do,” Garrus shook his head and returned to his work. “I just wish he trusted me.”

“You’ll get it someday,” she assured him, pushing off where she had been leaning against the MAKO. “You’ll earn it and then it will mean even more.”

***

Flaming ash fell around him like snow. The smell of the citadel burning around him was acrid and the cracking of fire filled his ears mixed with the blaring of the alarms. Seeing that piece of the recharge that had once been Sovereign fly towards them in the council chambers had, all at once, moved like slow motion and with unbelievable speed. It was as if he could see it coming, slowly moving closer and closer, yet his body moved like he was fighting through honey. Time pulled at him, kept his movements slow even as he willed himself and the others in the room, including Shepard to run, to move out of the way. He knew they could not make it far enough.

“GO,” Shepards voice had been sharp, decisive, like herself. Then there had been that dull, perfect ringing silence that comes when sound overwhelms your senses. An odd bliss of nothingness. In that moment he had wondered if he had made it. Perhaps this deafness was the last thing he would experience in life.

Then, slowly, as if someone was turning on the volume on a distant world, the sounds of a half destroyed station filled in around him. The crackling of the fire, the scream of the alarms, the creak of the building settling into its new, less stable self.

Shepard, he had thought, trying to turn to look in the direction he had last seen her, but all he could see was wreckage. Where she had stood was the massive pile of former reaper. Could she have survived that? Did she get out of the way in time? He waited, looking that direction, hoping to see some movement, but there was nothing.

“Captain Anderson, we found them,” a voice shouted from nearby as some of the wreckage was moved away. “They’re in here.”

“Take it easy,” Captain Anderson’s calming, authoritative voice carried over to him as the man knelt near Liara. “It’s over. You’re safe now. Where’s the Commander?”

Both sets of eyes turned to look in the direction she had been before the wreckage had come careening into the tower. She couldn’t have dodged that, there is just no way, he thought, his heart in his throat.

He had no way of knowing at the time, but that moment of fear, that split second of acceptance that she was gone was training for those two long years of her absence that was to come. Two years of trying to find a way to make the difference he felt like he had been making at her side.

***

“Archangel?”

That voice… he knew that voice. He could never have forgotten that voice, even when he tried.

“Shepard?” Part of him still didn’t believe it even when he saw her face.

Just my luck, he thought mere moments later as he lay bleeding on the ground in some back corner of Omega. Shepard finally returns from the dead and I’m going to die. I guess if one of us has to go, I’d rather it be me.

“We’re getting you out of here Garrus,” she said, leaning over him. Her voice traveled to his ears as if he had sunk to the bottom of a very deep pool. “Just hold on.” How could she sound so sure, he wondered, pain flaring with each move. “Radio Joker, make sure they’re ready for us.” The tone of her voice told him he looked bad. Maybe this is what I deserve, he resigned himself even as he refused to give up. He wanted to stay… but he wasn’t sure he deserved it.

***

“Look, you’ve done it before,” Garrus huffed, leaning forward on the desk. “Why not this time? Is it really so different?”

“Garrus, it isn’t that simple,” Miranda leaned back in her chair. “Even if I had all the resources I had back then, what we did, the testing the repairs on the cellular level, they were all in response to the injuries and damage her body had taken after the loss of the SR 1. With what they recovered, it would almost be like starting the whole thing over.”

“But you could do it again,” he insisted. “Just get the same team back. With the same talent and well stocked lab, we could get her back again.”

“After all that we’ve been through, after all the suffering,” she shook her head and sighed. “Maybe it’s time we just let her rest. In her two lifetimes, she lived enough for all of us combined. I want her back, too, you know. You aren’t the only one who misses her.”

“It’s not the same,” he was being defensive and he knew it. It was just… how could everyone just give up like this? “You only worked with her for a little while… you… It’s just not the same.”

“I know you loved her,” Miranda let his insistence go, fighting him on the idea that she cared just as much was futile. She didn’t love Shepard, but she had earned her respect, and that probably mattered more to her. The galaxy was a better place because of her, and it would have been an even better place if she had survived that final battle. But she hadn’t. She had done what any on her team would have; she stepped up and made the necessary sacrifice to ensure the survival of sentient life in the galaxy.

“You just,” he sighed, clenching his mandibles in frustration. “You don’t understand. You can’t understand.”

“Just because I’m saying no,” she said with a firm finality. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it, too.”

“Not enough,” Garrus said with a resigned defiance. Without another word, he turned and walked away, only the sound of his armored feet clicking metallically against the floor plating filling the silence.

***

“I just thought being finished with him, with what happened to my squad,” Garrus’ mandibles clicked in frustration. “That it would feel different. I thought I would feel…”

“Less guilt?” Shepard prompted. “Like you had finally found peace?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it,” he admitted. “Thank you for your help and for everything you’ve done for me with this whole thing. There isn’t anyone else I would have trusted for this mission.”

“You did the right thing,” Shepard soothed. “In time the feeling will fade. It’s not the sort of thing you just forget but you’ll find a way to accept the difference you can make given what happened. You can’t change the past but you can do things now to make a difference.”

“If only it was easy to know I had done the right thing,” he groaned.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to have the surety of knowing that,” she chuckled. “I don’t know that we can ever really have the comfort of knowing for certain that we did the absolute right thing, just that we are doing our best given what we know.”

“How do you just accept that?” He questioned, baffled by the ease with which she seemed to be able to do it.

“I don’t,” she gave a scoffing laugh. “But I don’t let it stop me. It’s my motivation. I know I can’t completely avoid having regrets, but the regrets I have help me avoid more; not making the same mistakes.”

“No, no, we just get to make completely new ones,” Garrus gave a self deprecating laugh.

“Exactly,” Shepard agreed with a laugh.

“Every day a new adventure,” he smiled.

“Every day,” she nodded.

***

“Garrus,” Tali’s sweet accented voice trilled over the vidcom. “It’s been a while. How… how are you?”

“As well as can be expected,” he couldn’t help the stiffness in his voice as he replied.

“Of course,” she replied quickly before they both lapsed into a tense silence.

“How is the resettlement of the Rannoch going?” He finally asked, searching for something to say.

“Better than I could have ever expected,” she responded. “The geth have been invaluable in the process. After 300 years… I never would have thought we could be living side by side.”

“Everyone is really getting along? Even after all the history and everything that has happened?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Well, not everyone,” she quickly admitted. “But the people who have been most skeptical have decided to remain aboard the homeships, keep the lifestyle of the fleet. I’m not sure I like the idea of us splitting up, but I can understand how some wouldn’t be able to trust the geth after so many centuries.”

“I’m impressed the geth could make the transition themselves that easily,” he admitted. “Afterall, it was your people who started all of it.”

“It wasn’t that simple,” she started defensively, then paused, having to admit there was truth to it. “But the geth still operate collectively. I envy them sometimes. It must be so much simpler when everyone just… understands.”

“Where is the fun in that?” He joked. “Is life worth living if there isn’t something you have to fight for?”

“There is enough to fight about without having to fight amongst ourselves,” she pointed out even as a note of humor tinged her voice.

“Listen,” he began, trying to move onto the topic of the call he had intended to have. “With all the knowledge we have now… with the geth and everything else… do you think… can we bring her back again?”

“I know you miss her, but…” Tali sighed. “Even if we know how. I don’t know that it is the right thing to do.”

“What do you mean?” Garrus could feel his stomach drop.

“She spent her life saving the galaxy, saving all our lives,” she shook her head. “She has earned her rest.”

“She earned a lifetime of happiness,” he corrected with passion.

“She made the choice and I have chosen to respect it,” Tali responded with resolute compassion. “I live my life and lead my people in honor of that choice and that sacrifice. I am doing what I can so that none of it, none of the losses or the sacrifices made to bring us here go to waste. And I am letting her rest. It’s all I can do. I’m sorry.”

***

Garrus returned to the apartment Anderson had left Shepard. He didn’t really know why he hadn’t sold it yet. Every corner of the place was filled with ghosts. Joker’s laughter and banter at the bar. Kaiden on the second floor floating James with his bionic field. His eyes fell upon a small pile of datapads. Just looking at them made the echos of Mordin’s voice echo in his mind. So many ghosts.

He padded through the sparse but well appointed room that had stayed the same since that last party they all threw before… before everything went wrong. Of course he had gone in knowing some or all of them might die. They had already lost Mordin and Legion. It would have been a miracle not to lose anyone else from the team. He just wished it hadn’t been her. Not again.

***

“How did you even find her body?” Garrus asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Technically I didn’t,” Liara admitted, pacing in front of the desk that held her camera. “The Blue Suns recovered her remains. The real challenge was getting the body back from the Shadowbroker. Leaving Freon behind for all that time… it was a hard choice, but it was the right one.”

“Easy for you to say as the one who wasn’t captured by the Shadowbroker,”  he said sardonically.

“He would have done the same,” she assured him. “The job was too important. We couldn’t let the collectors have her.”

“I wish I knew what they thought they would have found if they had gotten their hands on her,” she shook her head and sighed.

“Who knows,” he shook his head. “Maybe they wanted to know what she knew, what the Prothians had managed to preserve and pass on through the beacons.”

“There had to be an easier way to find that out,” she decided after a pause. “Maybe they needed to know why she could understand it. Shepard always was something special.”

“Do you think there was something that different about her?” He asked. “I mean in some way you could quantify in DNA or something?”

“It’s foolish to think that such things would simply be a result of some small quirk of genetics,” Liara admitted. “But maybe… maybe it could have told them those most likely to be dangerous to them if they were allowed to live and resist them.”

“That makes sense,” he had to agree. “They needed the masses to make the new collectors and maybe… maybe someone like Shepard would have been used to make the new ‘human’ reaper.”

“Perhaps,” she considered. “We have so much information now at our fingertips. I never really thought I would feel like there was such a thing as knowing too much. As a historian, I grew so accustomed to picking through little bits of information here and there. Now it feels like I have just fallen through the ceiling of some great library of a thousand lost civilizations. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do you think…” Garrus paused, his mandibles clenching and twitching anxiously.

“You want to bring her back again,” Liara finished for him.

“Don’t you?” He pushed. “Don’t you think that she deserves it? Deserves to have a real life beyond being a sacrifice for the greater good?”

“I… yes but… it isn’t that simple,” she began. “The Illusive man is gone. There is no Cerberus this time to bankroll her resurrection. And what we found, what was left by the time her body was recovered, it wasn’t the same.”

“We did it before,” he insisted. “Surely what we learned from before, and with what we know now from all of this… it has to be possible.”

“Right now it feels like anything is possible,” she admitted. “But even if we have the information that would make it possible without 4 billion credits, I don’t know if we would understand it yet. Like I said, there is so much right now we are just working on absorbing at the moment.”

“Can’t someone, the geth for example, sort through it,” his voice held a note of desperation. “They owe Shepard as much as any of us do.”

“You can give a Yagh a physics textbook but they will never understand the material,” her analogy wrangled but got the point across.

“You really think we are too dumb to understand it now?” Garrus asked flatly.

“Stupid or not,” Liara shrugged. “We have to understand the framework and build the fuselage before we can fly the ship.”

“We’ve done it before,” he repeated again for the hundredth time.

“Cerberus did something before,” she corrected. “They spent two years doing bespoke work on a single person with a single circumstance. There isn’t anyone or any organization that is going to want to invest in a project like that again.”

“Every single being in existence owes it to Shepard to do this,” he insisted.

“Shepard never did this expecting something in return,” she reminded him.

“I don’t care.” He snapped. “I do.”

“Shepard has returned to the greater whole we are all destined to return to,” she tried to comfort him, turning to the idea most Asari believed in to some degree. It made sense to her even as a vague, comforting idea more than a strict system of answers of belief. “Maybe that is the best thing we can give her.”

“I can’t just be satisfied with that,” Garrus admitted. “I can’t just accept it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different,” a sad humor filled the admission. “If anything changes, I promise to let you know.”

“Thanks,” he nodded and looked away. “I’ll let you go.”

“Be well, Garrus,” Liara said before closing the channel. He sighed and moved away from the desk, heading up to the bedroom to sleep. Rest had eluded him even when he slept. His mind could not stop chasing every possibility, every chance, every last grain of hope. He had to admit that things looked bleak as he changed and stretched out on his side of the bed. His eyes closed and after a few tosses and turns, he slipped into dreams.

The hum of the SR-2 filled his ears and he opened his eyes to see a field of stars through the skylight above the bed in the captain's quarters. It was a view he loved but had seen too few times. Of course really, it had been the company that made the place so special. Even if he had only seen it once, it would have been burned into his mind for the rest of his life. Ripples of blue shimmered over the field that kept space outside even in this dream world.

Beside him he felt someone else shift in the bed and turned to see her laying beside him, a contented look on her face as she looked up at the same view he had opened his eyes to. The room was dim and warmly lit, just like she liked it. The speakers played a low key, chill electronic song; one of her favorites for going to sleep.

“Thanks for the company,” her voice filled the holes in his heart as she turned to face him. “It’s never the same here without you.”

“Always,” he turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “You know it will always be the two of us, Shepard and Vakarian. Side by side. Forever.”

“How is everyone these days?” She asked, giving him a smile as she reached up to touch his face.

“Fine, fine,” he nodded, answering automatically at first. “Good even really. Tali is thriving in the work to settle people back on Rannoch. Miranda is putting all that genetic perfection to good use on both sanctioned and not so sanctioned projects. Joker is test flying the newest and most advanced ships that are being built. He and EDI got a little place together near the R&D facility that he would be living and working at otherwise. She’s learned to cook to make sure he is taking care of himself. Liara has put the organizational and research skills that she developed as the Shadowbroker to monitor and integrate all the information we have as best we can. Wrex and Grunt are back on Tuchanka rebuilding their civilization, ‘only better’ as one of them put it in the last message I got. All of the alliance crew is happily back at work flying from one system to another ferrying researchers and tech to colonies and planets as the innovations come out of all the new things we are learning. Jacob has a family and has happily settled in a new colony on the edge of what used to be alliance space. He’s happy taking orders and making a difference as part of a project he feels matters.”

“What about you?” She asked, eyes searching his. “How is my favorite turian doing?”

“I’m—” he wasn’t sure why, but he was about to say he was fine. At the moment, lying beside her, maybe he was, but that isn’t what she meant. “I miss you. Some days it feels like I am the only one who remembers you. I keep trying to get you back and everyone says it’s impossible. They did it before, why can’t someone just try again?”

“You know I’m always here,” she soothed. “Even if you can’t see me, I’m still here. I’m waiting for you at the bar. I don’t mind the wait. I’ve already got a bottle of the good stuff just waiting for us to share.”

“I don’t want to wait,” he held her cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I hate that I have to wait to meet you here. I want to fall asleep in your arms again. I want to worry when you go on stupid missions. I want to have to worry about securing your apartment again. Zaeed still has some good ideas about securing the place Anderson left you.”

“No one is better at making some place safe than an ex-assassin,” admiring laughter danced in Shepard’s voice.

“Kasumi dropped by to check on me,” he added. “I’m pretty sure she’d been watching me for a few days since she gave a few things a security upgrade before she left. I have no idea what she is up to these days, but she seems happy and well. I guess when you are a cat burglar, not seeing her on the extranet is a good thing.”

“She always did land on her feet,” she smiled and shook her head.

“Samara and her surviving Ardat-Yakshi daughter have been able to spend some quality time together.” Garrus recalled from his last conversation with her. “Her work as a Justicar has diminished since the last stand. Besides, I think once you’ve saved the existence of life itself, anyone would feel like they’ve earned a moment’s pause.”

“I’m sure her daughter is grateful for that,” she responded.

“Samara is too,” he agreed.

“I’m glad everyone is doing well,” Shepard sighed contentedly. “You know it’s okay for you to move on, right? I know it’s not that you’ve forgotten me or that you gave up. You can follow your dreams still, go out and fight injustice.”

“I’m not ready yet,” he sighed. “Just a little longer.”

“You don’t have to stay here,” she assured him. “I’ll be with you wherever you are. Omega, Horizon, earth… wherever.”

“I know, just… not yet,” he curled up along her side and let his eyes close as he held her close.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she agreed, hand resting on his arm that was draped across her stomach.

***

Liara paced around the dim room, lit mostly by the cluster of screens that lined much of one wall. Her mind lipped through a hundred ideas and possibilities as she scrolled through a series of names on the data pad in her hand. Her networks had their fingers in almost anything that was going on in Alliance territory and in most of the places outside its jurisdiction as well.

She had said no to Garrus when he called, but she had never really written off the possibility of working to bring Shepard back. She could cling to it, keep pursuing the possibilities while keeping a cool, dispassionate head. Shepard would always be someone who she owed more to than she could have ever repaid in even an asari lifetime. Still, she wasn’t her soulmate, the other half of her the way she was for Garrus. It would be cruel to string him along as she looked into the slim, distant possibilities that existed.

This looks like something, she decided, pausing on something that had come on to her list in the last few days. Clicking through the information, she flicked it onto the screens on the wall, analyzing all the information and connecting it with threads and bits of research that others were doing in completely different places.

Yes, this could be very promising, she decided. Taking a seat, at her communication station she pulled up a covert channel and opened the line to one of the agents she had as her roll as the Shadowbroker.

“Shadowbroker, what a surprise to hear from you,” the trill of a female turian voice chirped over the coms.

“I‘ve been following the research happening at your facility,” Liara’s voice was transformed over the coms into a mechanical tone that held none of her original tone or voice. “I want to know more…”

[kaidans-alenko]

Citadel Noire

Chapter one

Chapter two

“How are you two doing at Purgatory?” Buttercup asked over the comm as her and Kaidan sat outside the suspect’s apartment. “Behaving yourself Jacob?” she teased earning a chuckle from her boyfriend. 

“Always baby, chatted up a few club goers and they all told us the same thing.”

“Which would be…?”

“We need to talk to Aria T’loak.”

Buttercup rested her forehead against the steering wheel “Of course we do….alright well, keep me posted yeah?” Aria hated the Citadel, lucky for her she had pull among the council so she was basically untouchable, it certainly didn’t help that she despised cops, Omega wasn’t known for it’s stellar law enforcement if it even had any. 

“Roger that, Taylor out.” 

Buttercup sighed as she watched the apartment through the sky car's window. “Stakeouts are so boring.” she practically whined, in all truthfulness Kaidan wasn’t a fan either, but he was patient by nature, unlike the woman next to him. 

“You just want to be with Jacob.” He teased.

“Ha! Fair, I’ve seen that man in casual wear, I’m sure he’s getting all kinds of looks right now, none of them from me.” she looked over at Kaidan “but anyway, how did it go with the victim’s mom?”

Kaidan shifted in his seat “About as bad as usual, never an easy thing to hear that your only child was murdered.” 

Buttercup sighed “Hopefully we can find whoever this Morinth is and put a stop to it, I mean how do you kill someone with a brain hemorrhage? Especially if there aren’t any external injuries, I’ve never seen anything like that.” 

“I don’t know Butters, let’s just hope Jacob can charm his way into Aria’s heart.” Kaidan replied.

“Please, have you met him? Of course he can.” 

“Hey Buttercup, can I ask you something?”

“What’s up Kai?” 

“You and Jacob, how do you make that work?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like with work and everything, doesn’t it complicate things?” 

Buttercup leaned back in her chair “Hmmm, not really, I mean it certainly helps that we work together but we trust our partner’s with our lives, hell we spend nearly every waking moment with them, if anything our relationship had deepened that, sure we could get into it at home and bring it to work but i’m not the type for that and neither is he.” she looked at him “why do you ask?”

Kaidan shook his head “No reason.”

“Really? It seems like an awfully odd question to ask out of the blue.”

“Just curious, that’s all.” 

“Is that right? I thought what co-workers do outside of work was ‘none of your business’ at least that’s what you told me.” Kaidan was quiet “are you interested in someone at work mayhaps?” she pried.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He said, trying to brush her off.

“Is it Chambers?”

Kaidan chuckled “Absolutely no-”

“Because I heard her call Garrus sexy the other day so-” 

Kaidan finally looked at her “Garrus? She uh….she likes Garrus?”

“I think lust is more accurate but yeah, apparently she’s into aliens.”

Kaidan felt a pang of jealousy in his heart “Oh…” 

Buttercup took a sip from her water bottle, his reaction seeming a bit odd “Kaidan, do you like Garrus?” 

His face turned the brightest red she’d ever seen and  he looked out the window “No! At least not like that, he’s my partner that’s all.” 

“Um hello? Who do you think you’re talking to.” 

Kaidan sighed “Just drop it okay?” 

“For now but once we’re-” 

“Butters you there?” Jacob asked over her comm.

“What’s up babe?” 

“We’re on our way to Morinth’s apartment, we figured out what happened to Nef,” Kaidan and Buttercup locked eyes before moving in close so he could hear “Morinth definitely killed her, apparently she’s an ardat-yakshi.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“Put bluntly she kills people she mates with because of some rare genetic mutation, apparently she’s a frequent flyer at Purgatory.” 

“Shit...how many more victims?” 

“Don’t know, she ran around Omega too according to Aria, just be careful.” 

Buttercup scoffed “She kills with sex and we don’t have any intention to sleep with her.” 

“Yeah but she’s gone this long without getting caught, who knows what tricks she has, so be careful and wait for us.”

Buttercup nodded “Yeah, okay, see you soon.” She hated waiting but he was right, who knew what else she had in store for them.

“Death by hook-up.” Kaidan said as he loaded his gun.

“Looks like it, maybe we should just say brain hemorrhage if her mother asks.” Buttercup suggested as she reached for her vest, unlike Kaidan and Jacob she didn’t have a fancy biotic barrier to keep her safe. 

 “Good idea.” 

It wasn’t long before Garrus and Jacob joined them and they quickly made it up to her apartment, they hadn’t seen her leave since they got there so it was a safe bet she was inside and hopefully not with another victim. 

“Ya’ll ready?” Buttercup asked, waiting for the three men to nod before she kicked the door open “C-sec! Come out Morinth!” they were met with silence, the lights were on and it clearly looked lived in, so where was she? 

“My, my, guess it was about time.” Morinth said in a sultry voice as she neared them, cascaded in a blue light, it was no surprise she was a biotic, every asari she met was, the question was just how powerful of a biotic is she. 

Buttercup shook her head “Don’t try it lady.” 

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” she taunted.

“If we have to.” Buttercup replied.

Morinth smirked and turned to Kaidan, her eyes going pitch black as she looked at him, his gun clattering to the ground in an instant and he took a step towards her, Garrus catching his wrist “What are you doing Kaidan?” 

“I...I have to…” he didn’t sound like himself, monotone, like he was a mindless drone.

 “What did you do to him?!” Garrus yelled.

“Me? I haven’t done a thing.” She said, feigning innocence.

“Garrus she’s….she’s in my head.” his voice was strained as he spoke and he knew Kaidan was doing his best to fight back, to not let her overtake him. Garrus pulled Kaidan against him, holding him with one arm as he pointed his gun at Morinth. 

“Let him go now! Don’t make me shoot you.” Garrus growled, Kaidan was his partner, he wasn’t going to allow anyone to harm him. 

“You have to take me in alive right? I mean, you need a confession right?” She laughed and that set him off, Nef the innocent girl she killed along with who knew how many others, they meant nothing to her, just more numbers on her kill count. That poor girl really seemed to love Morinth but she was manipulated, she was the worst kind of killer and now she was trying to take Kaidan, the one person he cared about more than anything. Over his dead body. Garrus fired once, twice and she fell to the ground, blue blood pooling beneath her, releasing Kaidan in the process. 

Garrus’s gun joined Kaidan’s on the floor as he fell to his knees with him, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around his human partner “Kaidan, can you hear me?” he tried not to sound as frantic and anxious as he felt right now. 

“Garrus get him out of here.” Buttercup ordered as she moved in on Morinth, not holstering her gun on the off chance she was alive, doubtful though, Garrus was an excellent shot, he had the best scores in the division, never hurt to be too careful, they didn’t have much of a threat assessment other than ‘don’t sleep with her.’ 

Garrus scooped Kaidan up in his arms, he was no doctor but there wasn’t any blood he could see and he was breathing normally, hopefully he was just taking a nap but he was still going to get him checked out just to be on the safe side. 

-------------

Kaidan groaned as he lay face down on one of the cots at the station “Damned asari…” he looked at Garrus. “I heard you killed her?” the turian nodded “Good.” he said, burying his face in the old, hardly stuffed pillow. 

Garrus chuckled “And I thought your role was good cop.” he teased, gently nudging him.

“Ha ha, I'll go back to being good cop after my head stops pounding.” his reply muffled by the pillow. 

Garrus snorted “Suppose I can’t blame you,” he stood up and that caught Kaidan’s attention. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“Just to fill out a report but...I suppose I could stay if you need me to.” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

Kaidan blushed, he knew he should let him go, but that report could wait a little while longer couldn’t it? “I wouldn’t mind the company.” he said, giving him the best smile he could manage. 

As strained as it was it made Garrus’s heart skip a beat, he still didn’t know much about human beauty standards but Buttercup had mentioned Kaidan was considered attractive by them, attractive didn’t seem to cut it though, Kaidan was simply beautiful, that was it, even by turian standards if he really thought about it. Nice fringe, supportive waist and….spirits, he was in trouble.  

[cerberusdailynews]

[CITADEL] Council Abdicates in Favor of Protectorate

via Erruerunt Iocas, The Cipritine Squabbler In a unanimous 4-0 vote, all acting members of the Citadel Council voluntarily abdicated power today, ceding all military, domestic, economic, and political power to the Vol Protectorate. Councilmembers are expected to depart their chambers within 90 minutes of this story's airing, with Protectorate representatives assuming control shortly thereafter. "It has been a long, eventful ride coming here, but all things must come to an end," said Turian Councilor Sparatus from his chambers this morning, dressed in loose-fitting beachwear and sipping from a novelty-sized cocktail. "Truly, the Protectorate has shown astounding strides in leadership in the past four centuries. We have every faith that our swap of Client species status will be a fruitful one, and I for one look forward to witnessing the raw strength of the Protectorate Armada." Salarian Councilor Valern had similar remarks, stating that the Salarian Union's intelligence network has been "thoroughly shown up" by the vastly more competent Volanti's performance in recent decades. "Game recognize game," Valern stated, ensconced within the life support network that has kept him alive well into his twilight years. "They know what they're doing, and I'm certainly not saying that because they're threatening to cut short my increasingly unlikely stint on this mortal coil." Councilwoman Tevos chose not to focus on Protectorate business in her farewell statement to the press, opting instead to focus on her longtime political Republics rival. "You hear that, Irissa?" Tevos said, making a variety of increasingly rude gestures to reporters crowding around her office. "I told you you'd get this position over my cold, dead body, and now look! Now there isn't a position to even take! Suck on that, you withered, ugly [expletive]!" Protectorate Grand Chieftain Tribu Tum was conciliatory on his elevation to Supreme Councilorship, advising all Citadel citizens that the transition of power would be "smooth, gentle, and unassuming." "It is with great pleasure and humility that I assume the powers held by this great office," he said, addressing his audience at the Citadel Tower. "Do not worry yourself with this change. I assure you that business shall progress apace, that peace shall continue to reign, and that all Citadel visitors shall come to enjoy the snug fit and exquisite fashion of their new exosuits as we convert this station's atmosphere to something befitting its ruling Council. The Protectorate is strong, and so long as the Protectorate is strong, so too shall all species be who strive beneath its flag." Human Councilor Osoba spent the morning hiding under his desk, drinking and crying, and was thus unavailable for comment.

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge - Indoctrination

Summary: Alistair muses over indoctrination, Reapers, and the possibility of wet tail as he visits the Council chamber after his final battle with Saren. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he couldn’t stay away. Lucky for him, he wasn't the only one with that feeling.

(Post ME1, pre ME2)

---

It was amazing just how fast they were rebuilding the Citadel.

“You'd hardly believe the place was blasted by Reapers... but maybe that's the point.”

Alistair knew he was talking to himself, but that was ok. There was nobody around to hear him, and even if there was the noise of construction would drown out anything he had to say. After surviving what he had... he had earned the right to a small conversation with himself.

It was in the Alliance hand book. Page 3, subsection 4 – if the Citadel lands on you and you don't beef it, you get to talk to yourself without anyone saying shit. There was of course a “but” if someone of higher rank was around, but he was pretty sure as a Spectre that didn't apply to him anyway. Hooray for screwing the rules.

Today, his walk was taking him near what used to be the presidium. Normally, he wouldn't have been able to get in there, but again he was a Spectre. Maybe he had mentioned that to get past the guards a ways back, or maybe they had just recognized him as the twink in the armor who looked like a child next to the second human Spectre. It was kind of a toss up. Anyway, he was walking around a much less occupied part of the Citadel.

His goal was the old Council chamber, where he and his squad had squared off against Saren before it had all gone to shit. Just getting close to it made his bones ache, but Alistair kept going. Something like a morbid curiosity had possessed him, he supposed.

After all... towards the end... Saren had seemed like himself.

“You ok, Shepard? They said you got out of the hospital, but nobody's seen you around.”

Joker's message played in his earpiece. Alistair had left it turned on in case anyone found any living geth. So far, it was sounding ok – lots of dead robots, but also plenty of dead people to go with it. They had kept the Citadel, but the 5th fleet had taken quite a hit. That one had hurt – the Hong Kong had been a part of that. Now... well he had lost friends.

“Yeah, I just needed to clear my head. Are we cleared to go?”

He could hear Joker patching into something on the other side. “In about an hour. Totally psyched for our next destination, though. Who doesn't love the Terminus system?”

The sarcasm in his voice could had stripped paint, and the remains of the Council chamber needed it as Alistair finally started his approach. Here the ground was marred with fragments from bullets and energy blasts, but any bodies had long since been cleared away. There was still blood and oil, though – that the Keepers hadn't gotten to yet. They were trying, though. He had to give them that, even if it made his stomach turn.

“Hopefully it'll just be a quick trip. Now that the Council know...”

He paused, frowning. “Scratch that, knowing them they won't admit we almost got defeated by a Reaper invasion on the Citadel.”

“No doubt. They're probably just sending us to look good.” There was a beeping on the other end. “That would be someone from the Alliance. Talk to you when you get back, Commander.”

The line went dead after that, leaving the Spectre in silence as he climbed the broken steps, surrounded by the debris. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Saren pointing his gun at his head and firing. The wind carried the sound of his broken body hitting the ground yards below, and the sigh of relief they had all felt once it was over.

And then the bastard had popped up for round two.

Saren's Reaper-modified body was gone now, though. It had long since been cleared away to wherever they had taken it for study and disposal. The turians were probably furious about that – or they were sweeping the whole thing under the rug. In some aspects, they were very much like his own species when it came to one of their own fucking up.

Though, to be fair, Saren had been brainwashed.

Alistair frowned as he came to a stop at the top of the stairs. Here, he and Saren had talked briefly before the end had come. The man had been struggling – they had been so close to convincing him. Who knew what information they had lost with that bullet? Just thinking about it made him grit his teeth as he gripped the broken railing.

“How the hell could he have let Sovereign implant him?”

“I dunno... weird fucking Reaper bullshit? You're the tech expert, not me.”

A human voice caused him to pick up his head. It was coming from his blind side, so he had to do a full body turn. There was someone else in the Council chamber, sitting on a chunk of ceiling that had fallen in the final assault. When they locked eyes, she hopped off and joined him at the railing.

Bo had gotten out of the hospital about an hour before him, so it was no surprise she was here too.

“Figured you'd show up sooner or later.” She kicked a rock and watched as it sailed across the chamber. “It wasn't sitting right with me either.”

No... they had both discussed it in the hospital after the investigators and the Council had cleared out. Everything Saren had said and done before the final shot kept playing through his mind as he stared at where the turian had once been. It was like it was burned into his memory.

“What kind of power would it have taken to get Saren to agree to the implantation process?” He frowned. “Just how strong is indoctrination?”

It was a dumb question – he knew from Noveria that it was strong enough to take out an asari matriarch like Benezia. If it could get to Saren and allow what had happened, then anyone was a target. And lucky them, the Citadel was still covered in Reaper fragments.

How long until a child picked one up and started the process all over again?

“I still think you should've just shot him. Even I could see there wasn't a way back from what he'd become.” She shrugged. “But we know-”

Alistair rolled his eyes as he added, “I know. I'm a paragon of virtue and a save the day superhero. What can I say, there was a moment where it looked like I was getting through to him. Maybe he could've helped us with the Reapers.”

But even as he said that, he knew better. Their control was too perfect to allow for something like that. Even if he had talked Saren down, it wouldn't have lasted. Eventually, the Reapers would have taken control. He would've been dead, either in the Council chamber or in a cell.

That didn't help his guilt any, though. It never did.

Still, he sighed as he glanced around. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, the Keepers haven't gotten here yet.” Bo stooped to pick up a fragment of something. “Hey, I think I found that piece of armor Vakarian was missing. That should cheer him up about the whole Reapers are coming to kill us thing, right?”

Oh, totally. Anyone would be happier after seeing a former Spectre shoot themselves in the head to avoid control by the Reapers.

Still... it was a mess. No denying that. He kicked a rock with his foot, watching it bounce into what had been the podium at one point. Honestly, it was hard to believe this was the same chamber where he and Bo had both become Spectres such a short time ago. Part of him had to wonder if the Council was regretting or celebrating that choice. Since they were still alive and fucking owed the Alliance a 5th fleet sized favor, maybe he would ask them sometime.

That was after hitting Terminus, however. They had work to do.

“Hey... do you think we're going to run into anyone else like Saren?” Bo was still picking through the debris. “You know, souped up with Reaper tech and with scrambled brain?”

He shrugged. “Most likely. The Reapers don't seem the type to give up after one attempt. We're going to have to figure out a way to know.”

Bo found another piece of armor, though it looked like it belonged to the geth. “Besides the weird tech sticking out of them and the zombie look?”

Yeah, besides that.

Alistair sighed and shook his head once more as he turned his back on the podium. Maybe he had been hoping by coming back, he'd get some insight into Saren. Unfortunately, all he got was a headache and a look at the Keepers trying to rebuild everything. At least he was up and walking, which was more than the doctor could have hoped for.

Everything still hurt, but he could walk.

“We should get back to the Normandy. The Terminus system is waiting.”

Bo rolled her eyes as she fell into step behind him as they started to walk. “Last I checked, you were still the Normandy's CO. Unless they kicked us both out and gave Pressley the job while we were out, that means we're not going anywhere without you.”

“Well, at least we wouldn't get lost in the system if our navigator was running the show, though I doubt our newer crewmates wouldn't appreciate that much.” Alistair found himself chuckling weakly despite everything. “Sometimes I forget it's my ship still.”

His XO nudged him in her version of a light joke, but it almost launched him. “Then paint a fucking hamster on it or something. We could make it a tribute to Fluffytail.”

Ah, yes. Poor Fluffytail. Wet tail had gotten him just before Ilos. He'd lived a good life, albeit a short one. It still hurt to look at his empty cage, but it wasn't like Citadel Critters was open for a replacement. Besides, he wasn't ready.

Maybe in 6 months...

“There's an idea. I'm sure we've got some paint somewhere.”

“Fuck yeah, that's the spirit.”

Both squinted as they exited the presidium. Around them, recovery and construction were in high swing. To say it was noisy was putting it mildly as they started to walk back to the docks where the Normandy was. It was hard to even hear himself think as he avoided a pile of rubble that still leaked oil.

Would he know what indoctrination looked like, though? Benezia had looked ok, and so had Saren until he had gotten souped up by the Reapers. If it was that subtle, anyone they ran across could be under their control. Hell, the crew themselves were suspect...

Maybe he needed to come up with a scan or a test or something. Like check question one if your thoughts aren't your own...

“He's not paying attention to me, is he, Shepard?”

“Nope, totally in his own world. Hang on, I gotta keep him from eating shit.”

A strong hand suddenly yanked Alistair back. He blinked, and realized in his thought spiral had taken him down the path and almost into a light pole. Luckily, Bo had two working eyes and was strong enough to haul a 145 pound weight back before he collided with it. It was moments like these he was glad she was there and able to wrestle krogan.

Bo rolled her eyes as she put him back down. “Quit doom spiraling, there's more shit to beef it on that usual.”

“Right... sorry.” He shook his head. “Sounds like I'm missing something from Joker too. What's up?”

The pilot chuckled in his ear. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Commander. I was just telling the Commander that we're getting the coordinates for our first location. We're waiting on you, unless you really want us to stage a mutiny or something and leave you on the Citadel to brood.”

Well, he'd be pretty impressed if Joker could stage a mutiny without breaking anything, but that was beside the point.

Alistair nodded as his feet found the path again. Details were already starting to stream into his omni-tool about where they were heading. Doubt still ate at his stomach as he read them over, but he pushed them aside. They had a job to handle, and since they were the only living Alliance members that knew what indoctrination looked like that meant it was on them.

Maybe in time, he'd be able to develop something for the rest of the Alliance. Though he doubted they'd accept it... well, it was easy enough to hack their email server without them knowing about it when you knew where a few back doors were.

“Looks like someone's feeling better. What, you planning to hack the Council or something?”

That time he chuckled as they started to approach the docks, the Normandy waiting in the distance. “No, just remembering where I kept my key to get into the Alliance email server. Figured we might need it to get a message out one day.”

“I always knew you were a little chaos gremlin under that mask of civility.”

Indeed, and the chaos gremlin was itching to go find some Reapers to study. Maybe this next mission wouldn't be too terrible after all. Besides, what was the worst that could happen while they were out there? It wasn't like a Reaper was going to appear out of nowhere and blow his damn ship up while they were planet scanning.

That be weird. Luckily, nothing like that was probably going to happen.

[problemstarchild]

i can’t believe i’ve never read the alliance news network pieces before. i’ve read through all the cerberus news network shit just because i knew it existed, but the ANN stuff is brand new to me and it’s GOLD.

the article i’m reading, for example, explains how cerberus went from a small rogue cell to a huge private military in such a short time. they’ve always had the funding from wealthy human supremacists (such as henry lawson) and their own front organizations to generate income, but like, it seems like they HEAVILY managed to bolster their recruitment in the wake of the collector abductions.

in the cerberus news network timestream, there was an event referred to as the “vallum blast” that occurred on the turian colony of taetrus. a turian separatist group hijacked a ship and sent it at FTL speeds into the city of vallum, the capital of taetrus. the resulting collision caused “tens of thousands of deaths”, and turian leadership responded by immediately and decisively seeking out and slaughtering the responsible fringe group.

following this incident, the spending habits of citadel space changed. a term called “the taetrus effect” was coined, which was used to explain how several brand new serious and/or action movies bombed in the box office, while audiences flocked to comedies (looking for levity in a stressful, terrifying time)

tens of thousands died on taetrus, which is HUGE number that i can’t even begin to process, but HUNDREDS of thousands of humans were taken from each human colony the collectors attacked. i think they managed roughly 100k on horizon, even though shepard managed to stop them -- that was a third of the colony, and who knows how many other human colonies they managed to hit before cerberus reanimated shepard. 

they were clearly active when shepard died since they KILLED shepard, and i can only imagine that they’ve been literally plucking human colonies out of the air since then without incident -- while cerberus has been playing GAMES with the collectors, luring them to certain planets (if we’re taking the events of paragon lost at face value, which i... you know. they think biotics are powered by batteries so maybe i won’t completely validate them but, you know, they are at least semi-canon.)

so you have this turian tragedy that grips citadel space to the point where they must all suddenly decide to LOVE blasto because it’s so bad it’s funny, right?? meanwhile hundreds of thousands of humans have disappeared and i don’t recall reading about that in the news blips given by the CNN. (whether this is an oversight by writers who figured that hey, it’s the plot of the game, let’s not overdo it, or a deliberate attempt by cerberus to radicalize their readership by simply pretending the galactic news doesn’t report on human issues, idk. but i do know that there were few if any news reports mentioning the colonies while walking around populated areas)

like. i’m not super surprised that cerberus saw increased recruitment if their strategy was this

ANN has agreed not to publish the classified report’s contents, but experts within the STG, speaking on condition of anonymity, warn that what was once considered a small and extremely select group has grown drastically in size and power. “There has always been a segment of the human population that believes the Council government is lying to them,” said one agent. “Cerberus exploits that fear.” A confiscated recruitment video included in the report states the Cerberus mentality plainly: “Other species may talk with us, trade with us, even live with us, but when a crisis comes, we are on our own.”

this is very much a hill that game 1 ashley is willing to die on, and she doesn’t consider herself racist OR a human supremacist (which i’m not calling her, i’m just saying that she herself aggressively reacts the terra firma party while still having these talking points). 

like, imagine this: 

you’re just a human. maybe you don’t have any particularly strong feelings about galactic politics. humans are in space now! that’s cool! wow!

the first time you hear about shepard is when they become the first human spectre. haha, alright! diversity win!

the second time you really hear about commander shepard is when they save the citadel from being completely destroyed by the geth, and they keep saying that there’s an entirely different threat represented by their flagship. it’s not... hotly disputed at the time. the council doesn’t necessarily want to wave away what’s been said but it’s very much “we can neither confirm nor deny these claims at this time” politician bullshit

commander shepard is reported killed in action. the normandy is reportedly destroyed.

the council backslides entirely on any room for interpretation -- that flagship was created by the geth, only and absolutely.

human colonies start to go missing. maybe a distant family member or the relative of a family friend is gone. you’re absolutely freaking out. they’re just GONE, and nobody knows what happened.

the vallum blast happens. that’s fucked up, wow. holy shit 

more human colonies go missing. nobody really seems to notice. you notice. you’re noticing more and more, really.

surprise! shepard’s not dead and they’re flying around in the normandy, working with cerberus! 

apparently they just stopped the collectors, who apparently were behind the colony kidnappings? nobody else was working on this? (there’s at least one news clip i recall where someone says the council is looking into it, but this is a HUMAN matter because it’s outside of council space, despite the fact that the council is literally using humans as a meat shield to settle and claim worlds in the terminus systems)

if you believe the collector base thing wasn’t publicized at all (either in general or by cerberus for some reason), then i guess the first time you hear commander shepard is alive is when you hear that they blew up a relay and destroyed a batarian solar system. 

holy fuck. the government has been lying to you this whole time. shepard is alive and has been doing secret missions or something.

even if you did not become a conspiracy theorist around step 5, you are definitely questioning the truth of what you know at this point.

shepard his been relieved from duty and can’t answer any questions from the press.

cerberus comes forward with friendly, understanding faces to claim their work they recently worked with shepard to bring those collectors to justice for abducting all of those humans! they did something when nobody else did! wow! (though the alliance military was working on this, either cerberus didn’t know or they just didn’t tell shepard: but there was no other significant proof that they were doing anything about it)

maybe everyone just gives cerberus a bad reputation because they want humans to suffer. maybe cerberus is right.

we need to do something about this! humanity only has each other when the axe is coming down on us!

if you’ve made it this far, congratulations! you are now a cerberus reaper-fied husk centurion or something.

like, it’s extremely easy to radicalize people who feel ignored and afraid, you know? and we KNOW that cerberus understands radicalization tactics, it’s literally how they got shepard to work with them -- by reaching out to joker and dr. chakwas, handpicking kelly chambers (alien sympathizer), morally upright do-the-right-thing jacob taylor, engineers donnelly and daniels. they go out of their way to show their best face first to soften the transition.

and that’s when they get you! like jesus christ shepard is able to resist an ardat-yakshi who’s been breaking people’s brains for hundreds of years, but put a cute secretary and some old friends in front of them and suddenly they’re standing on virmire across from their former lover, completely isolated from their support systems, saying shit like “cerberus are the only ones doing something about this!” after just watching said lover get caught in the middle of trying to do something about this.

it’s insidious! and the same way the alliance used shepard as a poster child for recruitment after the attack on the citadel, cerberus now gets to parade shepard around as a poster child for cerberus after the collector base. and nobody wins.

[dailycharacteroption]

Conversion Corner: Mass Effect Races part 1

Asari and Volus

 By popular request, we’re going to tackle the major races of the Mass Effect series today. Despite controversy about the technical and narrative decisions about the series, it remains an iconic part of science fiction RPG history, so we’ll take a look at homebrewing the races from the game into the setting.

Note that while ME does have it’s own form of “magic” in the form of biotics, it is entirely science and tech-based in nature, revolving around a living body’s ability to adapt to the presence of “Element Zero” in their body’s system, allowing them to use their nervous systems to, with the help of amplifiers, generate the titular “mass effect” that forms the basis of many technologies in the universe, resulting in telekinesis, energy blasts, and so on.

I could go on about how tired the trope of one “perfect discovery” making everything in a sci-fi setting possible is, but instead I’ll simply just substitute actual magic in these write-ups, since its analogous enough.

 Asari

One of the founding members of the Citadel council, the Asari race is known for its elegance, diplomatic wisdom, and aptitude for mystic power.

Literally created to fulfil the “beautiful space woman” trope, the asari are acutally a monogendered race that reproduce by parthenogenesis. They are, however, capable of engaging in intimate encounters, but their true method of reproduction involves synchronizing their nervous system with that of another, even other species. In this way, one asari can use another sapient being as a “father template”, randomizing the genes of one set of their genetic material before using it to fertilize the other.

Beyond this, asari don’t have the same concept of gender roles and identity as other races, though they do tend to personally favor feminine, masculine, or gender-neutral pronouns on an individual basis. As an alternative, they tend to favor pronouns based on status, occupation, or their current life cycle status (being maiden, matron, and matriarch).

Asari physiology gives them a humanoid appearance that is mostly human-analogous, save for their blue-heavy skin tones which range from purple to the odd teal, and their somewhat flexible cartilage ridges and rests on their scalp. As mentioned previously, they are capable of synchronizing their nervous system with others, and while this is used as a means of reproduction, it can also be used to share information and memories between participants, making for clear communication across language barriers or helping to process complex information, though the process can be quite intense. Additionally, their eyes are adapted to see into the low end of the ultraviolet spectrum.

Asari society takes a very long view thanks to their long lifespans, and are content to let minor setbacks happen knowing that they can still influence things in the long run. Typically, their decisions are made with general consensus, with the words of older and wiser members of the species having the greatest weight, and tend to value a stance of centrism, for better or worse.

They are also very aware that many species see attractive aspects in them, and utilize this. However, it would be foolish to impose ideas of meekness onto the asari, as even an exotic dancer is a force to be reckoned with, their dances often being a martial art in disguise, akin to human capoeira.

Interestingly, asari consider it a minor social taboo for asari to use each other as the “father” in reproduction, both due to it being considered wasteful to not add something new into the species culturally, but also due to a rare genetic defect present only in a fraction of asari purebloods causing all telepathic joining with them to be lethal to their partners, overwhelming their minds and causing blood vessels to burst in the brain. Given how addictive and even rejuvenating this seems to be to the individual with this defect, we can probably infer that prior to the development of space travel, such individuals were mortal analogues to succubi, literal sexual predators that kill their mates. (The fact that the creators of the franchise named the defect: Ardat-Yakshi, after two figures in human mythology associated with such things really hits the nail on the head)

Regardless of whether they are warriors or scholars, or both considering their long lifespans and tendency to become leader figures with age, the asari remain the ever-patient crux of galactic civilization in the franchise’s universe.

 +2 Wis, +2 Cha, -2 Con

Hp 4

Size and Type: Asari are Medium humanoids of the asari subtype

Racial Traits:

Asari Senses: Asari have darkvision 60 ft.

Magical Aptitude: Asari take to magic like a fish to water. As a swift action, an asari can increase their effective caster level by 1 for one turn, bolstering a spell they cast that turn. They can do this a number of times per day equal to their Wisdom bonus.

Melding: As a full-round action, an asari can establish a telepathic link to an adjacent willing creature. This link functions similarly to telepathic bond, but lasts for as long as both participants keep concentrating on the bond and adjacent.

Social Acumen: Asari gain a +2 to Bluff, Diplomacy, and Sense Motive

 At the opposite end of intimate relations with other races, we have the Volus.

Hailing from a world with a high-pressure atmosphere heavy in ammonia, the volus people find the oxygen and nitrogen-rich worlds populated by many other races to be toxic and dangerously low-pressure. As such, outside of their homeworld and specialized atmosphere chambers, the volus must wear thick atmospheric suits at all times.

Devoted to economic pursuits, volus may seem overly pacifistic to most other races, since they are not especially agile or strong, and don’t share the romantic view of war that other races have. Nevertheless, while they may rely on their alliance with the turians to do most of their fighting, they can still contribute, boasting powerful mages and powerful weapons of war, including powered armor capable of more than making up for their lack of aptitude. Regardless, if they have the options, they’d rather duke it out with foes in the social arena, and conflicts between a volus and anyone else eventually evolve into bargains and deals, at least if the volus has anything to say about it.

Unlike a certain other disappointing reveal in Mass Effect, we have yet to see what the volus look like outside of their protective gear, but we can infer that they are a short and stout race with two eyes. It is difficult to guess their physiology beyond that, as a certain percentage of their suit’s volume must be devoted to maintaining the proper internal atmosphere and pressure, not to mention dealing with food intake and waste processing.

Volus culture revolves primarily around trade and business, but it is not callous in those pursuits. According to their beliefs, one cannot own a person, and they so strongly believe this that while Volus do have two names, they do not have family names, since in their eyes, such things are tantamount to a parent or even ancestors laying claim to their children and decendants. Furthermore, their sacred relic, the Book of Plenix, teaches that in times of war or great strife, charity and the forgiving of debts are the key to survival.

+2 Wis,+2 Cha -4 Dex

Hp 2

Size and Type: Volus are small humanoids of the volus subtype

Racial Traits:

Business Acumen: Volus gain a +2 to Culture, Diplomacy, and Sense Motive when those skills are used as part of trade and business.

Environmental Needs: Volus require an ammonia-heavy atmosphere to survive, and treat standard oxygen-rich atmosphere as highly toxic (DC 20 Fortitude save every round, progresses along Con poison track. Cure 1 save after returning to the proper atmosphere, at which point progression stops, but the progression does not disappear and must be recovered from normally).

Heavy: Volus gain a +2 to KAC against bull rush and reposition attempts

Sluggish: Volus have a land speed of 20 ft

[spratwurst]

Jolene “Jolly” Shepard

Earthborn | Ruthless | Vanguard | Paragon | Alive

MASS EFFECT

Squad: 

Romanced Kaidan

Recruited Garrus

Recruited Wrex 

Retrieved Wrex’s armor

Gave Tali the data

Citadel:

Handled the reporter diplomatically

Scanned Keepers

Left Weisman in turian captivity

Verner died (but then showed up in me2 again so I guess he got better lmao)

Noveria:

Helped Lorik prove Anoleis was corrupt

Rachni Queen surived

Feros:

Zhu’s Hope colonists lived

Virmire:

Talked Wrex down

Ashley killed in action

Final Battle:

Saren killed himself

Saved Council

Nominated Captain Anderson for Councilor

MASS EFFECT 2

Squad:

Romanced Kaidan

Mordin spared Maelon

Mordin preserved research

Completed Krogan Rite of Passage

Helped workers, Vido escaped

Tali exonerated

Samara killed Morinth

Heretics reprogrammed

Crew:

Didn’t romance Kelly

Kelly Chambers lived

Doctor Chakwas lived

Omega:

Patriarch lived

Illium:

Verner lived (somehow??) 

Suicide Mission:

Miranda, Jacob, Mordin, Garrus, Thane, Samara, Grunt, Legion, Tali, Jack, Zaeed all survived

Never recruited Kasumi

Collectors base destroyed

MASS EFFECT 3

Squad:

Romanced Kaidan

Recruited Kaidan

Kaidan lived

Ashley killed in action on Virmire

Miranda lived

Shepard saved Jack

Tali lived

Samara lived

Mordin sacrificed himself

Grunt overcame rachni

Encouraged relationship between Joker and EDI

Didn’t find / recruit Javik 

Crew:

Doctor Chakwas recruited

Didn’t romance Diana Allers

Steve Cortez lived

Tuchanka:

Wrex leader of Clan Urdnot

Genophage cured

Eve lived

Didn’t recruit Padok Wiks

Citadel:

Didn’t encounter Conrad Verner

Didn’t receive dissertation

Didn’t romance Kelly Chambers

Idk if she survived the Cerberus attack??

Rannoch:

Legion served as the geth representative

Geth and quarian alliance achieved

Final Battle:

Reapers destroyed

[miceenscene]

Commander Shepard was there the day Earth lost the First Contact War. Major Garrus Vakarian personally watched Humanity surrender to the Turians. But they never could have dreamed the roles they would have in the oncoming fight.

Yeah, it’s an arranged marriage AU. Cuz I’m Shakarian trash. So. Enjoy.

Chapter 54: Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire

Shepard stood on the balcony of her room in the Alliance suite, resting her elbows on the railing. The skycars flew past overhead as the night cycle of the ward started. The view was supposed to be beautiful, but she wasn’t really seeing it. She wasn’t really seeing anything at all. 

She’d explained to the Alliance delegation as soon as they left the Council chambers that she hadn’t actually told the Council anything, but rather asked for the evening to think things over. Udina had looked like he was about to blow a gasket and then spent the rest of the evening berating her with what he thought she should say. She’d had to get a little creative with her threats to get him to leave her alone, but thankfully, it worked for a time. 

She sucked in a tense breath as she heard the door open behind her again. “Udina, I told you what would happen if you came out here again,” she warned, anger flaring up.

“Not Udina, I promise,” Anderson said, chuckling a little. “I think your last threat finally got through to him.”

Shepard looked over her shoulder at Anderson. He held out one of the two dark glass bottles in his hands with a half-smile. “All the way from Earth,” he promised.

Find the rest on AO3

[minnigem]

Today’s Mass Effect Thoughts, as I just left the Citadel:

every volus you meet is either definitely up to something or just flat out a bastard. every single one. why are they like this. 

every salarians you meet goes either way - either cute + flighty or little shits. 50/50. no in-between.

(actually no Mordin is the in-between isn’t he. cute old scientist guy, definitely done some Shady Shit)

how have i only JUST noticed that sometimes the elevator music on the citadel is the... well, the elevator music variant of the game theme? very observational, me

ME1 just does not look good, in hindsight. And i’m not talking about graphics - limitations of the graphics are one thing... here are some crimes:

the citadel is just all so samey. You go to see Sha’ira and it’s the exact same decoration as the embassies. Get some coloured lighting in here or something. The most exciting/different looking areas are that bit of the wards outside of Flux (with the nighttime aesthetic) and the council chambers with all the trees.

ARMOUR. I understand there was a reason (they had a low polygon count so they had to fit armour into as little space as possible essentially) but good lord. You know things are bad when the company themselves call it ‘pyjama armour’ in the art book. It could have actually been really nice, I quite like the designs of lots of them, but lots of them are so flat and 2D over the character models that they look like wetsuits, especially the light armours. I’m eternally glad they switched to the chonkier armours, for Shepard at least. 

The turian armours though. Garrus currently looks like a bee. 

Also, armour classes!! Not so much how it looks but a side gripe: Vanguards can only wear light or medium. Your Tank class should probably be able to wear heavy armour, I’m just saying. 

Still on costume here: i cannot describe how much I hate That One NPC Dress with all the cutouts. It’s so ugly. 

nearly every male human NPC looks So Bad. It’s not just custom dudesheps that have a hard time with the face generation in this game, huh?

There is undoubtedly more to come. I’m about to go and get Liara, which means I’ll have to drive the mako for the first time in about 7 years. 

Pray for me. 

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Seat of the Citadel

One last faction intro story, in which Shepard finally tells the Council what every Mass Effect player has ever wanted to tell them.  Unless someone specifically requests otherwise, or it is needed later, I won’t have any more “faction intros” as I’ve been writing them.  Next up is the meeting of the different governments.  As usual, I own none of these characters.  Enjoy the story.  

(A note on timelines: This takes place slightly more than halfway through the events of Mass Effect 2)

Mass Effect Galaxy

The Citadel, Capital of the Citadel Council

 The Citadel.  The beating heart of galactic power.  A glimmering jewel of elegance and culture.  An utterly massive 45 kilometer long space station, constructed by the long-extinct and highly advanced Prothean race, it was the capital of the aptly named Citadel Council, the galaxy spanning federation that ruled most of explored space.  

Discovered by the Asari in the human year 580 B.C.E., it had since remained the center of galactic power.  Open, airy, and utterly magnificent, it was a menagerie of elegant futuristic-style architecture and open water features.  Its beauty was unmatched by any other place in the galaxy; not the often conflicting human architecture of Earth, nor the sweeping elegance of Thessia, nor the simplistic, yet sturdy nature of the Turian or Salarian homeworlds.  Truly, it was a place unlike any other.  

Commander John Shepard sat in an elaborate waiting room at the base of the Citadel Tower, the large structure that housed the chambers of the Council itself.  Above was an artificial sky of brilliant blue.  Blossoming cherry trees were dotted around the large room in large pots, their blossoms adding to the Beautiful fountains trickled slowly, the sound of running water meant to calm and soothe visitors.  Shepard was anything but calm.  In fact, he was, to put it rather mildly, pissed off. 

The Council had done absolutely nothing in the two years while he had been dead.  He warned them of the coming of the genocidal synthetic race known as the Reapers, but, no, they apparently preferred the illusion of safety and calm instead of shoring up defenses and preparing for a war that was almost certainly coming.  Goddamn bureaucrats.  

Now, it was even worse.  There were nine new galaxies out there, and all of them had it together.  He shuddered as he remembered reading the briefings and documents provided by his various new colleagues.  Council will probably want to ignore that, too.  Goddamn bureaucrats, he repeated to himself.  And what did the Council do?  Invited them all over as if they were all newly discovered species.  As if they were peoples who newly discovered space flight, expected to be cowed by the might of the Council, instead of pan-galactic empires.   

Goddamn bureaucrats.

“John.  God to see you.”  Shepard looked up sharply as someone called his name.  He visibly relaxed when he saw who it was.  

Captain, now Councillor, David Anderson walked towards Shepard, a smile on his face.  Dark skin, a flat nose, and short cut hair highlighted an elegant but simple suit; the clothing of a Councillor.  Anderson was Shepard’s mentor, old captain, and still older friend.  Still more, he was the only of four Councillors that Shepard fully trusted.  

“It’s good to see you too, Anderson,” said Shepard, rising from his seat to shake his hand.  Anderson made a ‘follow me’ gesture, and the two started to walk through the extensive lobby.

“The information you sent me was quite helpful,” remarked Anderson.  Shepard rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he’d picked up from somewhere.

“Ah.  Yes.  Well, my new colleagues are a bit… bizarre,” Wasn’t that the understatement of the century?  Really weird and slightly insane would probably be better.  “But, they are quite helpful.”  Especially if you want something very, very dead.  Anderson nodded in response.

“I’m sure.”  He glanced around the room, noting several Salarians hovering near a doorway.  “But the walls here have ears.  All part of the political game,” he sighed.  “Let’s take this conversation to my office.”  Shepard couldn’t agree more. 

Anderson’s office was, again, simple yet elegant, as a Councillor’s office should be.  Smooth walls and a large window, overlooking the Presidium, highlighted a maple desk.  Sitting on top of the desk, next to endless reports, was a single picture of Anderson wearing dress blues on his naval graduation day.  Anderson slid into the chair (with wheels, of course; humans in this galaxy weren't savages) and gestured for Shepard to take a seat opposite him.  

“Some of this data is, to put it bluntly, quite concerning,” opened Anderson without preamble.  He touched a button on his desk, and a hologram sprang to life, displaying three symbols: a blue triangle with a minimalized rocket taking off on it, a black and white six-spoked circle, and a double-headed golden eagle.  Of course we’d start with those three.  “These three in particular.  Tell me about them.”  He glanced at a data pad.  “The, uh, Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation, who sound a lot like if the Alliance was ruled by Cerberus, and the Galactic Empire and Imperium of Man, who,” this was accompanied by a slightly incredulous chuckle, “Sound like some nightmare governments from a bad movie.”  Shepard rubbed the back of his neck again.

“...yeah.  Sure.  I… how should I even start,” he rubbed his neck again, “The IMC is what you think would happen if a super-corporation gained enough power to rule humanity, the Galactic Empire took power after a Galactic Republic kinda lost a horrible war.” He still wasn’t 100% sure about the politics from that particular galaxy.  He shrugged, then continued.  “But, uh, both of those governments are on the decline.  Their opposite, more freedom-loving numbers have recently beat them back.  It’s the third one that’s the problem.”  Anderson shot him a look that clearly said ‘explain’.  “You see… well, how should I put this…” He frowned as he considered what to say.  “The Imperium of Man makes Terra Firma look violently pro-alien.”  Terra Firma was the System Alliance's resident human supremacist group.  Often compared to the Nazis of old, they were uncouth, brutal, and, above all, close minded.  Anderson’s eyebrows shot up at this comment.  Shepard rubbed his neck once more.  “Yeah.  No slurs or racial barbs for these guys.”  Shepard leaned in closer to Anderson to get his point across.  “One of their mottos is, and I quote, ‘Suffer not the alien to live’.”  Anderson cradled his head in his arms.  

“Oh, God.  And we invited them to the upcoming first contact talks.”  

“Yep!” replied Shepard with slightly more relish than was actually necessary.  It would be a real shame if xenocidal zealots murdered the Council (maybe), but perhaps it would be a good thing if they shook things up a little.  Certainly, if Cain was anything to go by, they weren’t all bad.  

“How are the other three going to react to all of this?” moaned Anderson, head still in his arms.

“Not quite sure,” replied Shepard, “Although, this time, it’s all politics, so the illustrious Commander Shepard isn’t going to be able to save their collective asses, like I’ve done the last five or six times.”  His face took on a pensive look.  “Although, maybe this will actually get them to listen about the Reapers…”  Anderson and Shepard’s thoughts were broken by a blue-skinned Asari, who politely knocked.

“Excuse me, Councillor Anderson.  The Council is ready to see Commander Shepard,” said the Asari.  Anderson sighed and slowly shook his head.  

“Well, duty calls.  This ought to be interesting.”

The Council chambers were much like the rest of the Citadel: utterly beautiful with a simple and refined elegance.  Too bad such a wonderful room was squandered on the walking wastes of oxygen that were the Council.  At least, that was Shepard’s opinion.  He didn’t have much liking for politicians, and most definitely had no liking for these three in particular.  He looked up at the podium where the Councillors stood.  At least they bothered to meet in person this time.  

There were three Councillors, excluding Anderson, each from a different species.  The Asari, a graceful, elegant monogendered race of blue-skinned women, the Salarians, a short lived but extremely intelligent race of amphibians, and the Turians, a militaristic race descended from avians.  Humanity was the most recent addition to the Council, a move that many seem to resent, but thanks to Commander John Shepard saving the Citadel and the Council it housed, a move that no one could oppose.  

“Commander Shepard,” began Sparatus, the Turian Councillor.  “While we appreciate being given information about these new galaxies,” this was inflicted by a measure of sarcasm, “Some of this seems quite hard to believe.”  ‘Just like the Reapers’ remained unsaid, but everyone was thinking it.  Shepard sighed inwardly.  It’s going to be one of these meetings.  

“Yes.  You went off on your own, chasing some message, and just sent this data back.  Explain yourself,” said Tevos, the Asari Councillor.  Anderson looked like he was about to intervene on Shepard’s behalf, but was interrupted.  

“Some of this seems highly unlikely.  First you come up with Reapers, a race of immortal sentient machines hell-bent on killing us all, now this!” intoned Valern, the Salarian Councillor.  Shepard struggled to keep a straight face.  

Calm down! said one part of his mind.  Explain to them what’s happening out there!  Tell them what you’ve seen.  Getting angry will get you nowhere.

Or will it? asked another part.  They didn’t listen about the Reapers, despite being attacked by one, they didn’t listen about your involvement with Cerberus, preferring to label you a terrorist.  They haven’t listened to you about anything.  Maybe anger will help you!  Besides, continued to voice, it's not like you couldn’t find similar employment elsewhere.  The Scoundrels trust you more than these idiots ever have.  I’m sure there are plenty of people who would pay top dollar for someone like you.   

“You know what?  I’m sick of this bullshit,” said Shepard.  “I am goddamn sick and tired of this bullshit.  You can believe whatever you want to believe, despite evidence to the contrary.  I have never lied to you.  I saved your lives.  I saved the Citadel.  I died for you!” he thundered.  The Councillors seemed rather taken aback.  “Yes, still, you don’t heed my warnings!  You don’t follow my advice, even though I have not once lied to any of you.  You sit, on your comfy chairs, trying to keep a peace that will most definitely be shattered.  You do nothing because it is simply more convenient to ignore reality,” he hissed, words dripping with venom.  Spartacus bristled.

“How dare you-”  Shepard whirled around to face him.

“Shut.  The fuck up, Sparatus.”  The calm in Shepard’s voice was deadly.  The Councilors blanched.  No one’s ever talked to them like that before, I’d guess.  He would have laughed if he wasn’t in mid-rant.  “Apparently, what I gave you was good enough to invite all of these governments over for peace talks.  All of them.  You also apparently trusted myself and my new colleagues enough to give them these invitations, instead of contacting these governments directly.”  Which was probably a wise move, in the long run, considering some of the reactions would have been ‘piss off and die’ if the invitations weren’t hand delivered by galaxy wide heroes.  Were they invitations?  Or… treaties?  What was a document inviting someone to a peace talk called?  Shepard shook himself out of his tangent and continued.

“Also, it seems you trust eight unknown people more than you trust the Spectre who has never lied, saved your lives, and died for you.  Have I missed anything?” he spun around to the room, arms outstretched theatrically.  

“Fine then, Shepard,” said Valern.  “You are dismissed.  Apparently,” he threw the word back in Shperad’s face, “Our top intelligence gatherer isn’t loyal to us anymore.  Other Spectres or the STG can take care of finding out what we need to know.”  Tevos and Sparatus looked apprehensive at their colleagues's dismissal.  While they might have been bureaucrats, they knew Shepard was one of the best Spectres and intelligence agents they had.  Shepard gave a laugh; a full throated hearty laugh.

“Oh, yeah.  Have fun with that.  Have fucking fun with that.  Have fucking fun sending the STG or some lone-wolf Spectre against people who have entire armies of super-soldiers at their disposal and who can legally destroy planets*.  Have fucking fun.”  He sneered.  “This is now the intelligence game you’re playing.  You aren’t in complete control anymore.”  Shepard crossed his arms and looked up at the Council.  “So, only one question remains: do you want my help or not?  ‘Cause if you don’t, there isn’t much point in me staying, is there?”  There it was: the ultimatum was out.  Would they back down and realize that Shepard was their best shot, or would they allow their emotions to get in the way?  Honestly, it could probably go either way.  Spartacus shot a look at Anderson.  Anderson replied with a ‘hey, not my problem’ stare.  Tevos cleared her throat.

“It seems we have been remiss, Spectre Shepard.”  Shepard let out a breath he had been silently holding.  While he would have made good on his threat, this was his home galaxy, and he wasn’t particularly sure he wanted to be working for someone like Crossgrow or the Inquisition.  “As you are the only one who has had contact with these people, please give us your opinion on how we should handle this situation.”  Shepard was sure it had probably physically hurt the Council to say that.  He dismissed the thought and returned to his duty.

“First thing first: you have to present a united front.  You can’t disagree with each other.  Second, all of the species’ representatives should be here.”  Before anyone could make an objection, he continued.  “All of them.  Definitely the client races.”  The Council had four races as members, but many more that were under their jurisdiction and not full members.  Many of those races were trying (and, for the most part, failing) to get a seat on the Council itself.  It wouldn’t do if the more open minded government, such as the Federation or GA, came to the Citadel, then saw the Council treating other races as less than equals.  “Even some of the other races who aren’t officially part of the Council, if you think you can control them.”  Shepard paced the floor.

“In addition, you should probably beef up the Citadel fleet.  Send in more ships.  Turian, Asari, Alliance, I don’t care.  We need as much security as possible, and some of these governments will be impressed by shows of force.”  

“Yes… we shall think about this,” replied Tevos.  “Your input will be helpful.  Please stay on the station during the talks.”  Shepard nodded, then came to a realization.  Oh, hell.  The first meeting of all of these governments is only slightly more than a week away.  This was going to be interesting.  Or deadly.  One of the two.  

*ONI can call on Spartans, ISB has Death troopers, and the Inquisition has the Grey Knights and the Deathwatch.  In addition, ISB helped to create the Death Star and has sway over Imperial Navy battlegroups, enough to bombard a planet into uninhabitable-ness, and the Inquisition can enact Exterminatus.  Shepard and the rest of the Scoundrels would know about all of this, except for the Grey Knights.

[brandyxlynn91]

Galaxies Together: Jane's POV pt. 4

As they entered the Noveria port, some guards stopped them and demanded they state their business and relinquish their weapons. I can't believe this Jane thought.

"I'm commander Jane Shepard. I'm here on spectre business and I need my guns." She told them.

"A human spectre? Yeah, right." The guard in front said to her disapprovingly.

"Trust me, you don't wanna do this." Jane replied. "My turian friend here is very trigger happy." She wasn't sure if that was a bluff herself but she hoped he wouldn't open fire. Just then a woman came down and told them she just received word that Jane was telling the truth and to let them through. Finally a sensible person, she thought. Upon asking about Benezia they were told to talk to the chief of the port. Before heading there, she pulled Liara aside to ask if she would be okay with hunting down her mother. She told Jane that she had not spoken to her mother in years and if she was evil, she needed to be stopped. That was enough for her but Garrus pulled her aside.

"Are you sure it's wise to bring her along?" He asked.

"She said she'd help and that's enough for me." She told him. She understood his concern but she believed Liara.

"Well, I- alright. I trust your judgement." He replied. She looked at him in surprise. She didnt expect him to agree so easily.

"Thanks, Garrus." She said.

Upon meeting the chief and asking about Benezia and the facility she was at it became clear he would not grant them access. He gave them a story about a dangerous blizzard and the facility being private. She knew he wasn't worried about their safety, which made her more curious about what's going on with the facility here. His assistant stopped her and requested they meet at the hotel bar. Once there she told them her boss was corrupt and she needed evidence that a turian had against him. The turian told them the evidence was in his office which had been overrun by the chief's thugs. They went to the office where a firefight ensued. During the fight, she saw a guard aim his gun at Garrus and instantly shot him down. She wasn't going to let anyone hurt Garrus. She protected everyone under her command but for some reason she felt compelled to protect him more than usual. She shook off her confusion and grabbed the evidence. After convincing the turian to testify and seeing the salarian arrested they went to the garage. She took out geth on the road as they drove to the facility.

"Whoo! I love these guns!" She shouted as she shot.

After getting the systems back online and getting rid of creatures that looked alot like rachni, they headed further into the facility. They ran into some guards and one introduced himself as captain Ventralis and he told them the place was in lockdown. He wouldn't explain why and told her Benezia was in the hot labs. She felt that something was up and wanted to talk to others first. She helped a doctor procure a cure for an illness before getting to the hot labs. Once there, they ran into a single scientist. He told them about finding a rachni queen in an egg and separating her from her own children to control them only to have them attack the facility. She was not happy about this and told him to do the neutron purge he told her about. Just then, a rachni claw pierced his chest. She shot it down and grabbed the purge code from his body. After activating it, they were ambushed by rachni. On their way towards the elevator, Liara tripped. Jane stopped to help her up and heard the screech of a rachni right behind her then the sound of a shot followed by liquid dripping. It seemed Garrus had shot it before it did any harm to her. This was the guy she wanted to watch her back and he did it well she thought, smiling. Upon exiting the elevator from the hot labs, the captain trained his gun on Jane.

"Sorry, commander. Benezia gave orders to kill you."

"I knew you were hiding something. But at least I know she's here somewhere." She replied before shooting him down while Garrus instantaneously shot down his men as if he knew what she was thinking. They headed towards the last place left. Upon dispatching Benezia's guards, her demeanor changed. She told them that Saren was controlling her mind with his ship, Sovereign. And that it was the real threat. She revealed that Saren sent her here to question the rachni queen about the Mu Relay and conduit. Jane wondered if that had something to do with her visions about the reapers. Benezia then said a few parting words to Liara before turning hostile again. She saw Liara take a few shots at her mother but Jane made sure to get the kill shot. She wasn't about to make Liara deal with killing her own mother, besides she was trained for this. She thought she saw something moving in the confinement chamber and peered in trying to get a good look. She suddenly felt a presence behind her and drew her gun as she turned around to see one of the dead asari staring at her. Just then it spoke revealing itself to be the rachni using her as a vessel. She explained the rachni songs were turned sour by something and pleaded to be allowed to rebuild her children peacefully. It agreed to disappear forever or be destroyed, so Jane released it. Back on the Normandy during conference with everyone, Liara asked about joining minds to see if she could interpret Jane's visions, but everything was still too random to make any sense. She saw Garrus looking confused and realized she hadn't told him about the reapers yet. She asked him to stay behind the others. Kaidan looked worried but she wasn't sure why.

"So back on Eden Prime, I pushed Kaidan out of harm's way and the prothean beacon activated. I saw what I could only describe as visions of something called reapers fighting with the protheans then blacked out." She told him. She didn't want it to seem like she was hiding anything.

"Really? I thought reapers were myths?" He replied. Oh no, she thought. He thinks I'm crazy just like the council.

"Yeah, well. It's what I saw. Then I blacked out and woke up in sickbay. That's when we went to tell the council about Saren and I told them about the vision. They didn't initially believe me about him either and that's why I needed evidence. They still don't believe me about the reapers. I mean I know I don't have any solid evidence and I'm just another human to them. I can understand why you don't believe me but I think they have something to do with the relay and conduit Saren is after. Just wanted to let you know." Jane rambled out before turning to walk away. Just then Garrus grabbed her arm.

"No. I believe you. I mean rachni were supposed to be extinct and we just met and released a queen. And you're not just another human. You're a damn good one in my book and I agreed to help you and that's what I'm going to do, Jane." He told her, smiling. She couldn't believe it. He actually believed her and he called her by her first name like he viewed her as a person. She smiled at him, tears of joy almost welling up in her eyes.

"Thank you, Garrus. And I'm here if you need me." She told him. She wanted to hug him but didn't think it was appropriate so she just went on her way.