"I'm a good technician." Garrus shrugged his shoulders. "I am constantly following the latest news. They send me the documentation: the sappers are sharing."

"Vakarian, you are incorrigible. Look, someday you'll fly into space with your house."

The skeptical look in his blue eyes made it clear what Vakarian himself thought about this.

"It won't take off." I snapped. "Garrus, you're going to live on a ship. We're leaving soon anyway."

For a moment, he was confused, not knowing how to react to such a turn, looking at our faces in surprise. I could tell from the men's faces that Darg and Dylan agreed with me, but Rex didn't care where Vakarian lived. He was interested to see his place.

"But..."

"I need help, Garrus."

Doubt flickered in his unreal light blue eyes, but he didn't object. That's great. No, just think... Five years of living in a booby-trapped apartment... Yes, he's not just an adventurer, he's some kind of extreme!

The quartermaster understood the twists of my thoughts perfectly. He forced a smile from his expressive face and asked a sacramental question:

"Do you need something?"

"Need." I sighed. "My mentor is seriously injured and is currently unable to resolve issues with the provision of me and my landing group. I have to do it myself."

"Who is your mentor?"

"Nihlus Krayk."

The quartermaster blinked in surprise.

"I heard he died."

Garrus chuckled.

"I saw this "deceased" about two hours ago. He still speaks with difficulty, but he's not going to die. Naradi, does the Special Corps still have a department here?"

Holds. — the quartermaster typed in the access code on the terminal, and on one of the doors the indicator changed color from red to green.

"When was the last time someone looked in here?"

"Yes, six months ago, when the new weapon was delivered. The Spectr's mostly use the main arsenals."

"We'll take advantage of it." I said, handing the quartermaster my ID card.

"I beg." Desar swiped the card across the sensor, waited for the equipment to read the information, and returned the card to me. "Choose one." He waved his hand invitingly, pointing to the open door.

chapter 12.2 The choice of armor and weapons.

Thanking the quartermaster, Darg, Dylan, and Garrus and I entered a spacious room filled with sealed weapon boxes. If this is just a small department that nobody needs, then what are the main arsenals?

We packed up thoroughly, counting on the whole group: two sets of armor for Garrus, Nihlus and me, weapons and ammunition, grenade cassettes and other cute little things. Unfortunately, since people do not serve in the Special Corps, there was no armor for Darg and Dylan, although Garrus said that there is armor for people in the main arsenal. The Asari armor suited me. Darg and Dylan were carrying quite heavy crates, storing them near the krogan, and Garrus and I were picking up weapons, since the vast majority of models were unfamiliar to me. The weapons of Turian manufacturers, designed for different races, prevailed. They chose a model created for Asari for me: they have less recoil, and it's easier. As we went to the exit, I noticed Garrus's thoughtful look, which he cast at the "Harpoon", a heavy long-range Turian sniper rifle, standing a little to one side. Mentally going over what I had selected, I realized that Vakarian had only taken an assault rifle for himself. Don't you understand? He's a great sniper! So why didn't you take "Harpoon"? Without saying anything, I just went over and took two boxes with sniper systems. That's how many copies of this weapon were in the arsenal.

The doors to the armory suddenly opened, revealing a tall, green-eyed Turian in his now familiar C-SEC armor. Tali recognized him and gave a little yelp, clasped her hands in a lock and tried to hide behind Rex. Don't you understand? Why is there such a reaction?

The newcomer looked at our motley company in surprise, looked at the open doors to the arsenal of the Special Corps, at the quartermaster and asked a logical question:

"Did the Spectr come to see us?"

The quartermaster nodded.

"The first Spectr is human."

"Imrir Shepard," I introduced myself. "It's scheduled for today."

"Congratulations." the Turian tilted his head to one side, watching with interest as I carried two weapon boxes, which were only slightly shorter than me, and in his eyes it was clear: `Baby, won't the recoil take it away?' "Decian Chellick."

Uh-huh, so this is Chellik? And I was absolutely sure that Chellik was a name. It turns out, no. And he doesn't look much like a canon character. Clan tattoos are dark gray in color, applied only to the chin and, partially, to the mandibles, the hard keratinized skin on the face, which for some reason is considered chitin, is light gray, against which these marks are barely noticeable, the eyes are bright green, a warmer color than Nihlus, and they almost glow on the black squirrel. His gaze is piercing, heavy, attentive. He has already managed to inspect my extremely motley company and form an opinion.

"Don't be sarcastic!" Rex frowned with displeasure. "I lost a good shotgun because of you!"

"Not because of me. There was nothing to push through. A master of War, and sometimes you act like a teenager."

Rex growled, to which Chellick paid no attention at all. It's probably not the first time he's caught a Krogan and handed it over to his native office. Tali peeked out from behind Rex and, encountering a heavy gaze, squeaked softly.

"A Quarian. Tali'zora, if I'm not mistaken."

"Officer Chellick." The girl squeaked faintly. "I... I..."

"She's with me." I interrupted the Quarian, who was frantically searching for words.

Chellick chuckled and nodded approvingly.

"I'm glad you've found some good... friends." The green eyes narrowed. "Spectr, I advise you to arrange it according to all the rules so that Tali'Zora does not have problems because of some... trifles. As far as I remember, the girl was left without documents."

"Do you know Tali?"

"I know." Chellik smiled faintly. "Tali'Zora found herself in an unpleasant situation. I believe she will tell you the details of her arrival at the Citadel herself.

Tali nodded gratefully, genuinely pleased that the Turian hadn't brought out the ugly story for everyone to see.

"Thank you for your advice, Officer Chellick. I'll take care of this issue."

Chellick just nodded at that. He gave me advice, immediately identifying an inexperienced student, and I made it clear that his advice was taken into account, and I did not dismiss it.

"Decian, are you on business?" Desar asked the newcomer.

"On business. Do you still have the dock worker's overalls?"

"She stayed. It's right where you left it." The quartermaster said ironically. "Along with all the junk. I sent a request for the Citadel services form to the Special Corps especially for you. They promised to bring it back in a couple of decades along with the arsenal upgrade."

Chellick nodded curtly.

"Thank you."

Garrus came out of the armory, carrying suitcases of armor. After briefly greeting his former colleague, Vakarian carefully placed the metal boxes on the floor next to the krogan, looked skeptically at the resulting pile, looked at Rex, then at my fighters, estimated the weight and grimaced. I agree, it won't be easy to carry, but, as they say, your pocket doesn't pull your stuff. We will enter the arsenal of the Special Corps only after returning from the Territory. Not before.

"It's true?" Chellik asked, frowning at his young kinsman. "You quit?"

"Yes."

"Be careful." the investigator sighed. "News travels fast. You're going to be hunted."

"I know."

"You'd better get off the Citadel."

"You know I won't do that." Vakarian replied calmly.

"I know. But try not to expose yourself. Too many people want to cut off your head."

"We're leaving the Citadel in a couple of days." I said, drawing the investigator's attention to me. "We will return for a couple of days, report back, and leave again for an indefinite period."

"This will be the best option. It is doubtful that they will forget about him, but at least the heat will subside. Garrus, your last operation turned some very powerful sentients against you."

"Did something come up?" Vakarian was instantly alert.

"It's surfaced. I'll send you the information on the omny-tool. You'll appreciate what you've stirred up."

"I would appreciate it."

Well, yes. It's not for nothing that they say an investigator can't be a former one. I guess Garrus will never get rid of the habits he acquired while working at C-SEC. And you shouldn't get rid of them. A good investigator on the team is very useful, and Garrus, as they say, is good.

Chellick went into one of the utility rooms, and Garrus and Desar began to rewrite the weapons, typing in the serial numbers and brands of the selected weapons. Tali was standing next to Rex, openly panicking. What is she doing? Is she afraid that I'll kick her out when I find out her story? He's afraid for nothing, I already know everything. But the documents are really worth sorting out, but only after I receive a response from the Migrating Fleet.

After completing the registration of weapons and ammunition, we said goodbye to the quartermaster, left C-SEC and headed back to the "Normandy" berthing area.

* * *

How we got to the ship is a separate song! We took a taxi from C-SEC to the elevator leading to the dock, but then... on our own. The fighters, hissing softly and swearing, carried trunks of armor and boxes of weapons, Tali tried to hold back a mountain of small boxes that were moving away, and I carried "Harpoons". They watched us go with such looks that if it hadn't been for the deadly cargo, I would have been ashamed... probably. And yes, I had to do it manually! C-SEC's arsenals did not provide trolleys, loaders, or home delivery.

When we fell out of the elevator onto the dock, we were greeted by a lovely picture: Captain Anderson and Ambassador Udina were fighting with XO Pressley and two Turians and a Salarian I didn't know, and the first thing I heard were the XO's words:

"...Ambassador Udina, I'm sorry, but I have my captain's orders."

Chapter 13.1: a conversation with Ambassador Udina.

"Commander, this is outrageous!"

That was the first thing I heard from the mouth of our dear ambassador, as soon as I approached. Only common sense kept me from wanting to punch Udine in the face. And two heavy weapon boxes in his hands. "Harpoons" weigh a lot! It's outrageous for him! I've only talked to him three times, and I've already started to have a strong desire to simply poison him so that his brain doesn't eat! Damn it! The game image didn't even come close to conveying the essence of the real ambassador! And how do the advisers maintain regular communication with this person?

"Take everything to the ship's armory." I told the fighters, handing Rex boxes with sniper systems. "Darg, show him." I turned to Udina. "Ambassador, what angered you so much?"

"On what grounds are we not allowed to board the "Normandy"?"

"And on what basis should you be allowed to board a ship officially transferred by the command of the Alliance Aerospace Forces to the Special Corps as a personal ship of the current Spectrum Council?" I asked phlegmatically.

"You are a Spectrum man! I am as an ambassador of humanity..."

"You have no right to interfere in the work of the Council's Spectr." I said dryly.

"Commander Shepard!"

"The Udine Ambassador." My monotonous, boring tone made him squirm. "From the moment of my appointment as an operative of the Citadel's Special Tactical Intelligence Corps, I automatically withdraw from the ranks of the Alliance's Military Space Forces, as well as lose my citizenship of the Alliance of Systems and acquire international citizenship of Citadel Space until the end of my service as a Council Spectr."

I did not specify that the Spectrum loses its status only with life or in the case of a promotion. Moreover, cases of promotion are so rare that they are rather an exception to the rule. Nihlus could only recall three such examples offhand in the last seven hundred years.

"On what basis?"

"Based on the Citadel Council's Resolution on the Rights and Duties of operatives of the Citadel's Special Tactical Intelligence Corps dated 700 A.D." I said even more tersely and monotonously.

Garrus told me about this decree when we discussed the legal framework of the Citadel Space and the problems that I can expect from the native Alliance.

Now this information was very relevant. That's how the ambassador got twisted, but... surely he won't trample on the law of the state, to which the native Alliance has been treating for twenty years? So I think he won't trample on it, although he can set it up. So that I don't get carried away.

"The Shepard Spectr. Explain one thing to me." Captain Anderson's voice was clearly displeased.

"I'm listening to you, Captain."

"Why haven't Darg and Dylan arrived at their new duty station yet?"

"They have arrived at their new duty station: Sergeants Itor and Savier have been placed under my command by order of Admiral Hackett."

"On what basis?" The ambassador jumped up.

"Based on the request of the Council's Spectr, sent today to the department of the Special Corps."

"They are the military personnel of the Alliance!"

"For the entire time they work with me, they receive the status of freelance employees of the Special Corps with all their rights and responsibilities."

Garrus is a smartass. It was as if he had anticipated this conversation, and while we were riding in the elevator, he described to me in detail the legal nuances of the current status of my fighters, separately focusing on the laws governing the work and position in society of the reasonable, officially hired by the Spectr Council to work together. And this status sounds like a "freelance employee of the Citadel's Special Tactical Intelligence Corps," and it gives you a lot of rights.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"I don't have one, Specter," Captain Anderson chuckled.

The funny thing is, he didn't get mad at me at all. It seems that the ambassador has managed to get a lot of him during our work together, and he is watching our exchange with such pleasure. And he took the loss of two fighters quite calmly, as if he expected something like this from me.

"The ambassador?"

"Solve the issues of providing your ship through the military department." Udina informed me with displeasure, glaring at me with a hard stare.