Udina stared intently at the three beings endowed with almost unlimited power, tensely waiting for their answer. We crawled up to Anderson, who was standing a little behind us, and all three of us, as if on cue, tried to pretend to be part of the decor. For a moment, it seemed to me that Councilor Sparatus was grinning, but I could tell exactly by the sedentary Turian physiognomy!

"Your proof... irrefutable." Sparatus' low, rasping, rumbling voice struck me as particularly ironic and cynical. "Saren will lose its Spectr status." here we all breathed a sigh of relief, which did not escape the attentive gaze of the advisers. "Everything necessary will be done to bring him to an answer."

"I recognize the second voice on the recording." The Asari advisor, Tevos, turned her head to her fellow Turian. "This is Matriarch Benezia."

The matriarch is a strong opponent. Skilled, powerful, deadly. Especially someone like Benezia. Tevos's sensual voice confirmed these concerns:

"Matriarch Benezia is a powerful biotic and has many followers. For Saren, she is a very influential ally."

"I'm more concerned about the Reapers." The Salarian's raspy voice jarred on his ears. "What do you know about them?"

"Only what was recovered from the Geth's memory. The Reapers are an ancient race of machines. They destroyed the Protheans and disappeared." Captain Anderson answered the advice.

"Commander Shepard," Sparatus turned a demanding gaze on me. "What can YOU tell us?"

I didn't understand him. Why did you ask ME? Why would Councilor Sparatus suddenly single out a failed candidate so abruptly? Or was he interested in me? If so, with what? The demons will understand him. The counselor controlled emotions very tightly, and only curiosity and irritation tinged with irony made their way into the mental. And also — some kind of strange expectation. He expected something from me personally, and I felt in my gut that it would be better if I did not disappoint him. The advisor has a very strong aura... interesting. It gives me the creeps to see its vague echoes. He's a creature of the kindest soul.

"A little bit. The Geth worship the Reapers as gods. Saren is the prophet of their return." After thinking about it, I threw a test balloon. The Geth are absolutely certain that the Reapers still exist and are drifting somewhere in the `dark space', waiting for the Call to come through the Channel open to them and begin the Harvest. Where is this `dark space' and what kind of Call is known only to Geth. Reapers are known to be intelligent starship machines. By Harvest, I believe, is meant the destruction of highly advanced organic life, as was done fifty thousand years ago when the Prothean Empire was wiped out. The information from the lighthouse partially confirms this, but it does not provide any GUARANTEED evidence. Perhaps studying other Prothean ruins or artifacts will provide an answer to these questions."

Sparatus stared intently at my crumpled face, but I still couldn't figure out what he wanted. According to history, the adviser took everything with hostility and did not believe a single word of the protagonist. But that's a game, and what's going on in the head of a real Sparatus is a mystery shrouded in darkness. The obscure hints bothered me a bit. This guy definitely understood something or found out, and now he's trying to get answers from me to the questions he needs. I wish I knew which ones! Otherwise, I feel uncomfortable under that gaze of intelligent and cruel gray-green eyes.

"How was Saren able to contact the Reapers?"

Did I mention that I hate pop-eyes? I'll repeat myself. I HATE Salarians and Councilor Valern in particular.

"I haven't the faintest idea."

"It's enough that he has a strong ally. And he himself is able to cause a lot of problems." Udina grumbled.

"Saren is a traitor." Anderson lifted his chin.

Sparatus barely noticeably twitched his mandibles and pressed them tightly to his cheeks, while irritation and rage spread through his mind. Oh my... Such an attitude towards the rebellious Spectrum of the adviser was infuriating. Apparently, there is a reason.

If you think about it... Saren Arterius is a living legend of the Special Corps with a VERY specific reputation. I suppose this figure has a lot of enemies! I wonder how many times Arterius's betrayal was reported to the Council, and how many times it turned out to be just another setup or carefully orchestrated action by Saren himself? A lot, I guess. More precisely, I can only learn about Saren from Nihlus, since he knows the mentor pretty well. However, the fact that the legendary Spectre got into the most epic shit of this galaxy, he never realized. Or did you understand? But couldn't appreciate the full depth of the ass? We'll see.

Before Udina or Anderson blurted out anything, I said listlessly, barely managing to stifle a juicy yawn:

"After all, he already has neither the rights nor the capabilities of the Spectr."

I was incredibly sleepy.

Tevos flared with perplexity, and Sparatus with irony, which quickly extinguished her anger. Don't you understand? The Turian's reaction puzzled me more and more. It feels like he's already got his eye on me. All that remains is to put your paws on it... The realization of this thought woke me up. Maybe the reason for my future appointment is completely trivial? The will of Sparatus, who saw something like that? Who knows? But I sincerely doubt that the Council will grant Spectr status to some incomprehensible bumblebee who killed her supervisor on the very first mission. They're too calculating and smart.

My thoughts were interrupted by the outraged and expressive statement of the ambassador:

"It's not enough!" Udina leaned forward, clenching his fists in rage. "You know he's hiding somewhere in the Traverse! Send your fleet there!"

Oh, yes, I can just imagine this epic picture: a space fleet catching a single intelligent one! Super simple. The whole Traverse will be laughing and betting.

"A fleet cannot attack a single creature." Sparatus remarked with a sigh, apparently having also presented a similar picture very vividly, look how he was distorted by such an idea.

"The Citadel fleet can seal off the entire region. Don't let the Geth attack our colonies!"

I glanced at Udina. May they not attack you until you find something else interesting. And if you do, then the patrol won't help either. There are so many Geth. And you can't kill them: they will overload on new platforms and crawl back to visit. The same composition, which is typical.

"This could lead to a war with Traverse systems." Valern said dryly. "We can't get involved in a galactic confrontation over a couple dozen human colonies!"

Sparatus grimaced, but said nothing. And I was staring intently at Councilor Valern. He's really arrogant.

Well, okay, it's time to kick the chain of events. It's time to remind yourself. You see, they'll give you a status for beautiful green eyes. Or for something else that I don't even know about yet.

"I can find Saren." I said, meeting the Turian's hard and appraising gaze.

Well, they weighed me, evaluated me, found me serviceable, and mentally slapped the big state seal on my dossier, which was announced to my colleagues with a barely noticeable short nod. The Asari advisor's eyes only widened slightly in surprise, while Valern, on the contrary, narrowed his eyes. Amazing insight!

"The Commander is right." Tevos closed her eyes in agreement, glancing at her Turian colleague. "There is a way to stop Saren without fleets and armies."

"Do you think humanity is ready to bear the responsibility of the Spectr's?" Sparatus asked, looking at me with some strange interest. That's it... And the voice, the voice! Sparatus balanced on a fine line between rage and interest, anger and annoyance, sometimes this interest was interrupted, but immediately suppressed by practicality. Sparatus had some plans for me that he alone knew, very far from the canonical neglect. But which ones?

The Asari exchanged glances with the Salarian and looked questioningly at Sparatus. The Turian didn't think long. A short, authoritative nod put an end to their discussions. Three intelligent beings with the highest authority in the Citadel Space synchronously stretched out their hands to small terminals and typed something. We watched their actions with bated breath, not daring to believe what was happening. Am I really going to get Spectrum status just like that?

"Commander Shepard. Step forward!"

Tevos's deep voice caused a small tremor. I looked at Captain Anderson, who looked incredibly pleased. The man nodded. Shivering under the attentive gazes of the advisers, I walked to the very edge of the platform. Udina took a couple of steps back, standing next to the captain. Garrus and Tali stared at the scene with bated breath.

"By the decision of the Council, you are given all the powers and privileges of a member of the Citadel's Special Tactical Intelligence Corps." The charming voice of the Asari reverberated through the vast Council Chamber.

"Spectres are not trained. They are chosen." Councilor Valern crossed his arms over his chest, staring intently into my eyes. "They are battle-hardened. They are above ranks and positions."

"Spectr are an ideal, it is a symbol." The Asari lifted her head proudly. "The epitome of courage, determination and dedication. They are the right hand of the Council. An instrument of our will."

"The spectr's carry a heavy burden." Sparatus' rasping voice sounded especially gloomy and solemn after the gentle voice of the Asari, it reminded of collisions and battles, the screech of crumpled armor and the roar of gunfire. "They are the protectors of peace in the Galaxy. They are our first and last line of defense! The safety of the Galaxy is in their hands!"

"You are the first human Spectr. This is a great achievement for you and for your entire race."

My heart was pounding in my chest, and my head was empty. The greatness of the moment was not spoiled by a single sound, not a single superfluous word. The Council, as the embodiment of Citadel civilization: the mighty Turian, the astute Asari and the cunning Salarian. There were no idle spectators whispering on the balcony, there were no appreciative glances. Only the guards at the entrance, standing guard, watched my appointment with burning eyes.

Bowing my head in a respectful bow, I said softly:

"It's an HONOR for me."

Sparatus nodded slightly in approval, and the Asari smiled. And the Salarian bastard ruined all the solemnity of the moment:

"We are sending you to Traverse for Saren."

"We will send all available information to Ambassador Udine." the Turian added, correctly interpreting my sidelong glance.

"The Council meeting is closed." the Asari's deep voice put an end to the meeting and marked the end of the meeting.

Chapter 10.2 Imrir's conversation with the Advisers.

However... As soon as we turned around and headed for the exit, something flew at my back:

"Spectre Shepard, hold on." The low, vibrating voice sounded completely unexpected.

"Advisor Sparatus?" I stopped and looked questioningly at the Turian.

After waiting for all the extras to come out, Sparatus asked a question that made me feel sick:

"Your doctor's reports say that after contacting the lighthouse, you received a huge amount of information. Is that true?"

This... My ass! Sparatus was interested. My chuika feels that until he squeezes me dry, I will not leave this hall alive.

"Yes, it is. Information overload is still affecting us. The data from the buoy has not yet been fully realized."

"A buoy?" the Salarian bastard noticed a slip of the tongue.

"This is not a lighthouse, but an information buoy. As far as I understand, its purpose is to store information and transfer it into the mind of any reasonable person who has crossed the coverage area. The Protheans built thousands of such devices when their extermination became apparent.

"What was in the lighthouse?" Tevos was also interested.

"Fragmentary visions and images pop up in my head during deep sleep. You should understand that I cannot guarantee that there is any real value in these visions."

The attempt to get off topic failed. The councilors exchanged glances and stared at me like hungry cats at a piece of raw meat. Oh, my God, I suddenly felt so bad! By God, it would be better if they were the same arrogant idiots as in the game. But now I'm facing three smart, cunning, and calculating paranoid politicians who have just been shown something interesting and potentially useful.

"What else do you see in your dreams?" Sparatus asked without a trace of humor or irony, glaring at me intently.

"Military chronicles. The massacre. Hefty bug-like creatures tearing sentient ones to pieces. Fleet battles with ships very similar to the one we saw on Eden Prime." Seeing the understandable question on Asari's face, I kindly informed: "The fleets were losing. Always. I guess these are the Reapers."

"What was the reason for this conclusion?"

"There is an immeasurable difference in the level of technology and total power." I honestly admitted. "If you compare the battle of the Reapers and the Prothean fleet, it's like a squadron of fighters with bronze spears attacking a spaceship. The paint might get scratched if you're very lucky, but that's all."

The councillors exchanged glances.

"What else?" Sparatus, the brute, clung like a vorloon to the victim! Okay, if that's what you want, listen up. Maybe you won't believe it and you'll leave me alone.

"The citadel. Repeaters. Exactly the same as now."

To my quiet horror and panic, the advisers only exchanged knowing glances, and I felt a chill. Do they really KNOW?

"Recent excavations and research have shown that the Citadel... much older than we thought before." Azari's soft and gentle voice seemed to me like the sounds of a harbinger of Doomsday. "Was there anything in your visions that would confirm this?"

They must have read the answer in my face. The Salarian's attempt to say something was cut short by a thin azure palm raised in an international call for silence.

"Tell us."

"The Protheans didn't build a Citadel or relays." I answered hollowly, closing my eyes. "There is a whole series of visions that are similar to the old military chronicle. There are very specific markings on the image. They show how the Citadel was opened." Looking up, I met the Asari's attentive gaze. "I saw an ABANDONED and EMPTY Citadel, in which there were only Keepers."