Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

"Irene, have you noticed anything unusual about yourself?"

The doctor's voice brought me back to reality, and the question raised reasonable concerns.

"Should I have?"

Karin turned the datapad over in her hands, looking at me thoughtfully, as if I were an unknown animal to science.

"The fact is that you have changes in your DNA. I do not know what they will manifest themselves in or what the reason is. It is likely that these changes are the result of the influence of the Lighthouse. There were no deviations before Eden Prime."

Oh! Has the body really begun to adapt to the soul? I wish I could already.

"I don't even know what to tell you." I spread my hands. "I can only come for regular checkups."

"It's not even up for discussion."

"I would like you to keep this information... in secret."

The doctor's gaze became prickly.

"Many crew members dislike outsiders. Xenophobia is illogical. I don't want to become a victim of idle gossip."

Dr. Chakwas's gaze softened.

"All right, Irene. But I'm waiting for you for regular checkups!"

"Karin, I didn't even think about objecting! I perfectly understand the gravity of the situation."

The doctor calmed down and graced me with an approving nod. When I get the status of Spectr and Normandy, this information won't really change anything, although it may cause me a lot of trouble. In the meantime, it's better not to run into unnecessary problems.

"Doctor, what's wrong with my allergies?"

"I do not observe a strong reaction to dextro-protein. A slight rash may appear." Karin put the datapad in her pocket. "Your body has a surprisingly neutral reaction to dextro-foods."

"It's been since the academy." I honestly admitted. "I once drank a Turian drink by mistake. I only got a small rash on my hands, indigestion and swelling on my face."

There really was a similar case in the commander's past. Shepard then got off with a little indigestion, swelling of the face and sitting on the toilet, but attributed it to the consequences of drinking with friends. The truth surfaced only a month later, when the brave future commander tried to order the blue mutter she liked. The bartender's eyes are one of those recipient's memories that I will cherish and view during periods of melancholy, because they warm my dark, cruel soul.

"There's nothing unusual about that." Karin assured me. "Some people do not respond to dextro-protein at all and are able to eat dextro-food. Of course, it is practically not absorbed, but it also does not have negative consequences. Apparently, you are lucky to be among such people."

"Not bad either." I smiled broadly.

No, it's not even good, it's just great! In my previous incarnation, I could drink poison in glasses, but in that world, magic and the genes of magical creatures provided certain bonuses. Especially the blood of dark creatures. Did I really manage to capture at least some properties in the structure of the soul? If so, I'll be thrilled! But I'll find out for sure in about a month, when the aura fully unfolds and the soul takes root. And who knows, maybe I'll even be able to survive the Normandy explosion and not become a victim of the Lazarus Project. Suspended animation would be very useful. However, the state of suspended animation can be achieved in other ways, and I will be able to prepare for the approach of this key, unchangeable point.

I spent the rest of the time in the infirmary before jumping to the Citadel, enjoying talking with Dr. Chakwas. Karin is an extremely intelligent and well-read woman, and listening to her stories and stories from her life, I learned a lot of new and funny things. Stories about the biochemistry and physiology of the Alliance races smoothly jumped to stories from the active doctor's military past in order to return to medicine again. The unfortunate Naylus was mercilessly used by the enthusiastic Karin as a visual aid, at least the proud SPECTR was unconscious and unaware of this obscenity.

Finally, the signal sounded to go through the repeater. Karin stopped, blinked in surprise.

"Irene, go to the bridge. As far as I know, you've never been to the Citadel before?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Look. She's impressive for the first time!"

I smiled. And really, why not go and see this miracle of the Reapers' design genius? Karin's stern voice caught up with me at the door.:

"Irene... I hope SPECTR Naylus doesn't find out about this!"

I smiled.

"Absolutely not!"

The door hissed shut behind me, and I couldn't help but smile broadly. May the Reapers, the Harbinger, the Catalyst, and all the other evil spirits of this universe burn in Hell. As long as there are SUCH reasonable people here, I will fight for the future of this reality and do everything possible so that they do not burn out in this senseless war! After all, you can enjoy life even in such a situation, especially since I don't get into other situations, and the phrase "peaceful life" has long since lost its practical meaning for me, becoming an impossible event.

Chapter 5: The Citadel: The Council

Listening out of the corner of my ear to the conversation between the Joker and the Citadel dispatcher, I stared at the huge station, spreading five petals of residential modules far away. A magnificent sight! This station is an ingenious creation, it shocked the imagination, caused awe and awe... someone, but not me.

I disliked the Citadel at first sight. A shiny, pretty wobbler, a delicious bait for gullible fools who decided to get the knowledge of the previous rulers of the galaxy for free, and the relay network was a bait hook that local civilizations swallowed so quickly and with a satisfied slurp, voluntarily embarking on the path of death. Apparently, human have safely forgotten the thesis of free cheese, and other races did not even know, having got into a development rut carefully dug for them by patient Reaper breeders. Gloomy prospects, no matter what you say... Damn it, even goblins who have problems with logical thinking are much more careful and don't touch strange free weapons! Is it really hard to think: if the past owners of this wealth were brought under genocide, but this shit remained untouched, then something is wrong? Or is it just anger and annoyance talking in me?

Ashley and the Joker were excitedly discussing the frankly ugly "Path of Destiny", which looked more like an exaggerated shallow bucket on a four-legged stand than a warship. A pretty patrol cruiser rustled by. However, he is only beautiful compared to the ugly Azari tubs. Damn it! It feels like the ships were designed here based on the residual principle!

Yes, in my home world, the models in the movies were even prettier! My heart feels like I'm going to get to the Council boiling and bubbling with anger.

The mooring of the Normandy was uneventful.: the ship smoothly approached the berthing area and braked, after which the anchors worked, fixing it and sucking the ladder to the airlock. By that time, the people who had been released were already crumpling in the airlock.

It is worth noting that running around the Citadel in full combat gear and with combat weapons is strictly prohibited, and therefore we were all dressed in standard Alliance uniforms with low-power personal kinetic barrier generators and service weapons, namely pistols. Only Citadel Security personnel were allowed to wear armor, but they were also light, and rifles and fairly powerful pistols were used as service weapons. The only exceptions were the Spectres and the personal bodyguards of the Council members-they could wear anything.

Anderson dismissed the crew, and he took me, Ashley, and Alenko, called a taxi, and drove to the diplomat of the Alliance, Udina.

We stumbled into the ambassador's office when the sought-after reasonable was communicating with the holograms of the Council, and the first phrase I heard was:

"This is outrageous! The Council would have intervened if the Geth had attacked the Turian colony!"

Udina's indignation was quite understandable to me. Who would like to be seen as something like a third world country? And the Council treated the human race like that, and I couldn't blame them for that. Now, having had the experience of living among other races and peoples, I can quite authoritatively declare that humans are the most unreliable and unpredictable race, from which it is best to expect some kind of setup. You'll be whole. And there will still be a chance for a pleasant surprise, nevertheless, there are decent specimens in our environment, however, they are not very clearly visible against the general background.

The Turian Counselor gave Udina a pitying look and quite reasonably remarked:

— Turians do not colonize planets bordering Terminus systems.

The ambassador grimaced. Apparently, people were really warned about the danger of Terminus systems.

"What about Saren? Will the Council turn a blind eye to Spectr betrayal?"

"Citadel Security is investigating Saren's case. We will discuss the conclusion at the hearing, not earlier." The Asari replied softly, and the holograms of the advisors disappeared.

Muttering something extremely unpleasant, Udina turned his attention to the intruders. While he and the captain were discussing business, I brazenly turned my back on them and, leaning on the railing, looked at the park with interest.

Finally, the ambassador agreed with our captain and left the office.

"Commander Shepard." There was a hint of displeasure in the captain's voice. "I did not expect such behavior from you."

"Captain," with a sigh, I tore myself away from the beautiful park and shifted my attention to my immediate superiors. "I have quite serious doubts about the expediency of this meeting. I believe the Council has already made a decision. We don't have any really solid evidence of Saren's presence on Eden Prime, let alone his involvement in the attack. You don't think that the testimony of a doctor with a shattered psyche will be significant enough, do you?"

The captain sighed.

"I understand it myself. But it's worth a try."

"Is worth. But I beg you, not a word about my visions! I don't want to be laughed at!"

The captain chuckled.

"Good."

"By the way, how did the Council receive the information about Nilus' fate?"

"Restrained. Except perhaps Councilor Sparatus..." The captain hesitated for a moment. "It seemed to me that he took it too personally. The Turian's rage is unmistakable."

"That's how... Thank you, Captain."

Anderson smiled reassuringly.

"Go to the Council Tower. The meeting will begin soon. I advise you to take a taxi. The distances in the Citadel are quite long, and there are elevators..." The captain grimaced. "You'll have time to evaluate them."

With these words, the captain left, leaving us in the ambassador's office.

"Well, let's explore the local public transport?" I asked cheerfully, eliciting puzzled looks from the fighters. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Commander..." Ashley stammered, not knowing what to say.

"Ashley, you don't think I'm a commander in life, do you?" I chuckled. "Subordination must be on board the ship and on the mission. In all other cases, I am Irene."

Ashley smiled, and Alenko stood and blinked.

"Then... Irene, let's go get a taxi!"

That's why I like this person, so it's for the lightness of character! I would also like to eradicate her xenophobia... Well, okay, I'll wait until my mentality wakes up. Or I'll use a good old belief.

* * *

By the time we got to the Council Tower, I clearly realized that the creators of the game were VERY stingy about the scale of the game world, since we took about forty minutes to get to this tower by taxi and another ten minutes on foot through rather confusing passages. But finally, the building we were looking for was found, and we fell out of the elevator and stomped towards the wide front staircase. Behind which stood two Turians.

Well, hello Garrus Vakarian. Let's see what you're like in reality.

As I was climbing the stairs, I heard the end of an entertaining dialogue:

"Saren is up to something, I'm sure of it!" The low rumbling voice of the young Turian broke off excitedly. "Please give me more time! Stop them!"

His tall companion snorted contemptuously:

"Detain the Council members? Don't make me laugh! Your investigation is over, Garrus. And don't make me remind you of it again!"

Pallin, and it was undoubtedly him, gave the young subordinate a hard look and left, shaking his head disapprovingly. Apparently, Vakarian had already managed to get him a lot.

Watching Naylus, I was sure that Turians were simply physically incapable of vivid outward expression of emotions, but Garrus had just shattered that misconception of mine! His whole figure, down to the tips of his clawed fingers, depicted disappointment and confusion! Covered with chitinous plates, the pitiful muzzle, which was not supposed to be capable of live facial expressions at all, was the epitome of childish resentment and deeply wounded pride. But in those vivid, unreal blue eyes, confusion was quickly replaced by determination. Garrus shook himself like a big cat, muttered something displeased, and turned an interested gaze to our frozen composition. There was a moment of realization and recognition, and the Turian, already full of determination and enthusiasm, moved towards us.

And I couldn't help but smile. The game's image did not even come close to conveying this storm of emotions and the energy of the young officer. I'm not me if the genius shooter doesn't turn out to be a member of my squad before leaving the Citadel! Anyway, this polite bundle of optimism and the embodiment of justice is worth a fight with Pallin.

Garrus skidded to a stop, peering at my face with interest, barely noticeably cocking his head to the side like a bird.

"Commander Shepard?" A slight hesitation crept into the vibrant voice. "Garrus Vakarian." a short nod, a slightly bowed head. Garrus is extremely polite. "I was the C-Sec officer in charge of the investigation of the Saren case."

By the end of the sentence, the uncertainty had evaporated, lost in the determination and confidence of a professional.

"Why "was"?" I asked with interest, looking at the guy.

Garrus looked confused.

"You heard me... Director Pallin closed the investigation."

"But did you find something?"

"Saren is a Spectr," Garrus grimaced, which looked very funny and could be read without the slightest difficulty on his, as it turned out, expressive face. "All his activities are classified. It's almost impossible to find something really worthwhile."

In fact, he had just confessed his impotence, knowing it all too well. Ashley and Alenko exchanged glances. My fighters weren't idiots, and they got the subtext right.