Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

"Commander, the Council is waiting." Alenko reminded me quietly, and I wanted to strangle him.

Something must have flashed in my eyes, because Garrus blinked in surprise, looking strangely at the unsuspecting Kayden.

"Alenko... Don't try my patience. I haven't dealt with you yet for the Lighthouse."

Alenko opened his mouth, but he met my kind, promising gaze and shut up, choking on air.

"I'm sorry, Commander."

Shaking my head, I walked past the blinking Turian and headed for the Council platform. Let's see what the real Cancel is. I really hope that they are at least a little smarter than the canonical image, otherwise it will be very difficult to save this reality. And I wanted to see Saren in person. Even if it's in the form of a hologram.

* * *

A visibly nervous captain was waiting for us in front of the Council platform.

"Commander! The hearing is already underway!"

I didn't even blink at his reproachful look. Anderson sighed and led us to the platform. And the Citadel Council and Saren Arterius appeared to my eyes in their own holographic persona.

Judging by Saren's pleased expression, the Udina ambassador managed to make the same mistakes as in the canon. Glancing at the councilors, I stared at Sparatus for a moment. Apparently, Anderson is right. The adviser's movements were too harsh, his voice was harsh, but his eyes were... Turians have amazingly expressive eyes! An extremely honest race! They could still hide emotions in their movements, but their eyes gave them away. And there was only pain in Sparratus' gaze. Apparently, the Councilor took Naylus death very personally.

I listened with half an ear to the exchange between Udina and the Council, without taking my eyes off Saren. Needless to say, the legendary Spektr quickly noticed this? I was silent, not trying to get into the conversation, and looked at the powerful Turian in white armor, noticing nervous movements, excessive pathos and contemptuous self-confidence, irritation. Saren's bright blue eyes were devoid of any expression. There were no Turian emotions in them, as if someone or something had completely suppressed them, leaving only bare logic and rationality. Apparently, the Saveren had already gotten into his head, playing perfectly on his fears and thirst for revenge.

Still, Anderson couldn't resist blurting out about the visions. I grimaced. He shouldn't have done that. Saren immediately showered him with arrogance and contempt. I wasn't listening to the Turian's words. I listened to the timbre of his voice, noting the reactions and facial expressions of his scarred and disfigured face.

"What can you say, Commander Shepard?" Sparatus' growling voice pulled me away from the fascinating staring game with a nervous Saren.

"It depends on what exactly interests YOU." I answered calmly, meeting the adviser's hard gaze.

"Tell me about the death of Naylus' Spectr."

"There's nothing to tell." I shrugged, watching Saren from the corner of my eye. "Naylus went ahead to investigate. We haven't seen each other since we landed, although we've been in touch three times. During the last communication session, he said that he would go check the spaceport, where we were supposed to meet him." The Counselor listened very attentively, literally spelling out my words. "As we approached the spaceport, a SINGLE shot rang out. We found Naylus at the spaceport. He was shot from a rifle almost POINT BLANK. The wound is fatal. It's all."

"Where is his body?"

"When we left the Normandy, it was in the INFIRMARY." I shrugged my shoulders.

Sparatus took a deep breath.

"Do you have any more questions for me, Counselor?" I asked calmly.

"Tell us about the Lighthouse."

Well, I told him. And about the lighthouse, and about bombs, and about information overload, and about visions of disaster. You should have seen Saren face at that moment! I specifically emphasized that I had never seen such landscapes and such reasonable ones. As an example, I described the proteanin in detail. Saren expression warmed my soul, and I smiled charmingly and hopefully at the twitching Spectr. I know how such snarls get on your nerves. And I had a kind-kind look. I will not forget or forgive a point-blank shot at my potential fighter. That's how vindictive I am. Sparatus watched our exchange of glances very carefully and drew some conclusions. Funnily enough, Saren shut up and didn't ask for compliments. But his eyes were very heavy. It's not for nothing that he has such a specific reputation.

Finally, this long muddle came to its logical end, and the Asari counselor said:

"The Council found no connection between Saren and the Geth. Ambassador, your request to expel Saren from the Spectr's has been rejected.

Which is to be expected.

Saren bowed to the Council, saying arrogantly:

"I am glad that justice has been done."

But when he came across my leering, appraising and promising gaze, he choked, blinking in surprise. Even his mandibles, disfigured by scars and pins, were pressed tightly to his cheeks. And at that moment, I was torn between two contradictory desires: to kill for what he had done, or to save him, not letting him die by my hand or his own. Saying goodbye in a crumpled manner, Saren disappeared, having managed to catch my promising look one last time. You're not going anywhere. We will meet more than once. So let's see which of the two desires will win in the end, and what your fate will be, the legendary Spectr Saren Arterius.

The council dispersed, and Udina stood on the platform for a long time, clutching the strong railing in impotent anger. By and large, the Council has just publicly wiped its feet on him. I went up to Captain Anderson, listening to the heated debate between Ashley and Kayden. Ashley was being venomous at the Council, Alenko was gloomily making excuses for some reason, and the captain was frowning at me.

"Commander. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I know. The Council's decision was predetermined." I shrugged my shoulders, looking at Udina approaching us. "We didn't have a single solid piece of evidence, and the excessive vehemence only turned against us."

"What are your suggestions, Commander?" Udina asked sharply.

"Before entering the platform, we met an officer of the C-Sec, Garrus Vakarian." I said calmly, seeing understanding blossom in the captain's eyes. "He has been investigating Saren's case for a long time. I think he can help us."

"Go ahead, Commander."

"Thank you. If you don't mind, I'll go find Officer Vakarian."

"Do you know where to look for him?" Anderson asked in surprise.

"I have an idea." I smiled. "The Citadel is essentially an ordinary city. And the laws on it are the same. Ashley, Alenko, rest until morning."

"You're not going alone, are you, Shepard?" Ashley asked suspiciously.

"Also, how will I go! And no arguments! You, Ashley, are xenophobic. No offense, but I won't take you to the lower city with me until you get over your complexes. You, Alenko, are a military man to the core, and it shows. So..." I spread my hands.

"And you?"

Taking off my jacket, I gave it to a stunned Alenko, tousled my carefully coiffed hair, hid the gun, tore off the patch from the sleeve of my T-shirt, quickly turning into an ordinary civilian dressed in paramilitary clothing.

"See you later, Captain, Ambassador."

Smiling, I easily ran down the stairs and went to the elevator. The recipient's military bearing slipped easily, exposing old habits of movement. There were three stunned stares at my back and one full of hope.

Thank you, Captain, for believing in me so much!

Chapter 6: Sniper from God

Theoretically, I knew where to look for the irrepressible Turian. Really, first I should go to Cora's Lair and talk to Harkin, a former security officer who was kicked out for drinking. He'll tell me where Garrus is heading, but the feeling that I'm LATE has been boring into my brain since the Council, so I spit on the drunk and pulled over at the terminal of the nearest taxi, quickly scrolling through possible destinations.

There were some... Tens of thousands! There are hundreds of clinics... Which one is the one I need? All I remember is that the key character is Dr. Michel. Damn it! How do I find the RIGHT clinic?!

Okay, stop! Why am I being stupid? This is a real world, not a linear game! It turned out to be quite easy to find Vakarian's number.: The lists of C-sec employees were quite accessible to the Alliance military, and there were contact details opposite each name.

After dialing the required number in my omny-tool, I sent a communication request with the words "Garrus, respond urgently!" Hopefully, the nimble guy would notice him and deign to respond BEFORE he got involved in an unequal battle.

I walked in circles by the taxi and slowly sat down, torn between the desire to drop everything and drive to the nearest clinic and shoot a Fist! The omny-tool suddenly lit up: a direct incoming call symbol flashed on a small holographic panel.

"Shepard's on the line!"

"This is Garrus Vakarian." The Turian's voice was muffled and very quiet.

"Where are you right now, Garrus?"

"I'm sorry, Commander, I won't be able to meet you right now..."

"I'm offering to help."

"Clinic 38-12, residential area." He replied, confused.

"Wait for it! I'm flying out immediately!"

The connection went out, cutting off the uncertain words of refusal. What else! Jumping into a small flyer, I chose the right destination and leaned back in a fairly comfortable seat. There was a situation... Not too good.

My weapon is a light pistol, barely capable of pushing through an average kinetic shield, no armor, no cover. From the asset — Garrus in light armor of the C-sec. As far as I remember, he had an assault rifle and a heavy pistol strapped to his back before the Council meeting. I hope he will be so kind and share a normal weapon. There is no point in calling the fighters from the Normandy, and they simply won't have time.

The taxi parked at the clinic's door, gurgling at me to signal the end of the journey. Avina's tedious electronic voice began broadcasting about the Citadel and offering to take an excursion. Later! Everything is later!

The clinic turned out to be a fairly large complex, larger than a full-fledged colonial hospital. This is not two game rooms, but a full-fledged hospital, living its own life: staff were scurrying past me, patients and visitors were walking, someone was chatting with friends, someone was kicking ass, someone was harassing doctors, at the counter some crumpled guy was arguing with the doctor on duty. In general, it is a normal hospital suffering from an influx of patients and a shortage of staff.

I found out the location of Dr. Michelle's office by simply stopping a girl in a medical uniform who was running past. Pretty azari pointed out the office I needed on the clinic map right on my omny-tool, not forgetting to inform me that the doctor is currently busy. I thanked her and assured her that I wouldn't bother her and quickly went to the elevator.

And then the canon came into force again. The door to the doctor's office was ajar, and I slipped into the waiting room without any problems. Voices were heard in the examination room: rude, masculine, full of superiority and menace:

"Do you understand me?!"

"I... I..." the woman's voice, trembling with fear, could only belong to Dr. Michelle.

"When Vakarian appears, behave yourself! Keep your mouth shut, otherwise we'll come back..."

It's time.

Activating the pistol, I entered the examination room. In a small rectangular room stood a short, pretty red-haired woman dressed in the standard white uniform of Citadel doctors and five big men. Fist's mercenaries. The mercenaries reacted quickly to the rustle of the opening door: the mercenary who was talking to the doctor wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her to him, hiding behind her back, while the others grabbed their weapons.

"Who are you?!"

With a startled cry, I pressed my hand to my chest. In the second one, I was holding a pistol ready for battle, but behind my back, and the mercenaries couldn't see the weapon. To the left, by the support column, I saw Garrus. The Turian's mercenaries hadn't noticed him yet. Amazing stupidity!

"I... I..."

I move slightly to the side so that after the turn of the thug looking at me, the hostage does not block Garrus' firing. The Turian was watching me intently, but appreciating the maneuver, he nodded gratefully, raising his pistol.

"Raise your hands!"

"Yes... now!"

Step aside. Garrus darted out from behind a pillar like a shadow, raising his pistol. The roar of the shot merged with the scream of the mercenary, who saw the weapon in my hand, and I already pulled the trigger, shooting at the blinking man, frozen against the wall. My shots were lost in the bluish haze of the shield, Garrus took down the human mercenaries with three accurate shots to the head. The shield disappeared with a pop, and my bullets finally hit their target, piercing the Salarian's chest.

I've always been infuriated by those pop-eyes.

The deactivated weapon whistled softly, and I tucked the pistol into my belt. The Doctor stood in mute shock in the same place and in the same position in which she had been shot by Garrus, and at her feet lay a corpse with a bullet through its head. A heavy bullet entered the idiot's forehead and tore out the half of the skull at the exit, smashing somewhere into the wall.

"Michelle?"

I approached the woman, cautiously peering into the terrified face.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

The woman woke up from her stupor.

"W-who are you?"

"Commander Shepard, Alliance MSF." Garrus answered for me, tucking the weapon into the fastener on his back. "You've chosen a very good time."

I smiled.

"It was a perfect shot."

Garrus blinked in embarrassment, twitching his mandibles.

"Oh, yeah... Sometimes you get lucky..."

"And that's what a born sniper tells me!" I shook my head, turning the corpse onto its back. "Four shots offhand, all right in the forehead. What kind of luck are we talking about? Compared to you, half of the fighters I know suffer from congenital strabismus and lack of eyesight." After removing the assault rifle from the fastener, I carefully examined the weapon.

"Thank you for your help." The Turian shifted nervously.

Oop-pa on! I could have blushed, I would have blushed. I smiled at the guy, tucking the captured Stinger into the belt of my service weapon.

"Not at all, Garrus." I waved it away. "Michelle, what did these idiots want from you? What shouldn't you have told Officer Vakarian?"