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The speakers clicked, and Jeff's voice said:
"Rin, it's an hour until the tunnel exits."
"Understood." I replied, barely able to open my eyes.
That's right... How did it pass me by?! I blinked, but reality didn't change. Bright light blue eyes looked at me with interest. Is that when Garrus showed up in my cabin?
Someone fidgeted nearby, and there was a muffled curse, uttered in a familiar, low, vibrating voice. Oh my... And Nihlus is here...
"How are you feeling?" Garrus asked, helping me sit up.
How's that? Yes, it's good! It's one thing to rob one person, but it's quite another to rob two.
"Great."
The sleepy face of Nihlus came into view.
"What did I miss?"
Garrus answered my question by telling me the following. About four hours later, after Nihlus came to check on my condition and didn't come back, Garrus decided to ask where he was. Found out. On what basis it was launched VI is a mystery shrouded in darkness, but I seriously suspect that our inquisitive pilot is involved. Anyway, I came and saw this picture: Nihlus, who was thoroughly frozen, unconscious, and I, who was not far from the deceased in terms of body temperature. Garrus was visibly scared, but then Nihlus came to his senses and dedicated our precious sniper to the essence of the problem. After that, I unloaded me to him, and he curled up into a compact ball and fell asleep. By the way, it is quite a normal reaction of the body to such losses: to sleep off and warm up. Garrus himself was only slightly frozen: my reserve was already almost full, and I didn't need much energy. True, he was already being robbed by Nihlus, but very weakly and almost imperceptibly.
The most interesting thing is that Garrus told all this with a bit of humor and considerable irony, not forgetting to hint a couple of times that such consequences should be reported before it was too late. There was a simple answer to my attempt to thank you:
"That's what... friends are for."
We had cleaned up and eaten in an hour, and now we were lazing around. I checked on the matriarch: Lady Benezia was still in a state of deep sleep, the cords that had been sharpened yesterday had disintegrated, but the drill was still sitting tight, although not as much as before. Really, three days of work, and it can be safely deleted. Leaving the Lady in the infirmary under Karin's care, I ran all over the ship. I checked the queen: rahni was sleeping peacefully in her box and didn't cause any problems. Rex dug himself into the arsenal and, at my request, compiled a list of what we could use to get from the large arsenals of the Special Corps at the first opportunity. At the same time, he handed over a list of spare parts for our Mako, compiled by Garrus, who repaired the all-terrain vehicle for nothing. Tali and Adams were discussing some technical issues. Liara ran off to the infirmary to her mother. Peace and grace...
And then the most unpleasant part began: checking the crew. I walked slowly around the ship, talking to people, surreptitiously scanning their minds.
I hate this kind of scan... For the sake of a single piece of information, you have to shake up a lot of thoughts and emotions. Anyone who thinks it's interesting can dig in the trash. It feels very similar.
People don't even understand what's really going on in their head. Conscious thoughts are just a tiny tip of a huge iceberg, the results of the work of a whole layer of thoughts, instincts and reactions of the body. For example, a guy named Robert, who is currently checking navigation systems, thinks about his colleague Elena, who is sitting at the next terminal. A conscious thought is quite decent: the guy thinks that the girl is very beautiful. But here is the foundation hiding under this idea... There's a lot here. The natural reaction of a young man's body: reaction to the smell, to the appearance, to the motor skills and plasticity of the movements of the object of lust. This is followed by unconscious instincts and images in which the subconscious very clearly shows exactly what it wants to do with this young lady: desire and lust. Conclusions that are practically conscious of the mind: it is suitable for procreation. The result of reflection is an attractive girl. A separate stream is the analysis of her personality: spiritual qualities, mind, character. And all this entails a simple statement of the fact that the girl is beautiful... But there is also a third layer — these are emotions, an analysis of the environment... I'm just ecstatic about it all! And, most importantly, do not filter out all this stuff! I'm already silent about the fragmentation and confusion of thinking, which makes the hair stand on end all over the body.
At least the unnecessary analysis results can be simply erased without cluttering up the memory. I can live very well without knowing how the crew members spend their free time. There's nothing interesting anyway, and I already know the gossip: Jeff, out of the goodness of his heart, throws me excerpts of particularly interesting pearls from the idle chatter of the crew. To know exactly how these gossips formed in the brains of the alternatively intelligent crew members... Come on to the demons! I caught one of them out of the corner of my eye, and it was amazing. And he looks like such a calm and proper guy...
I can still understand the gossip that I'm sleeping with both Turians. It's not a problem to find a reason, especially considering their touching care and spending the night in my cabin. On Egros, a pale, trembling mentalist sitting with someone in an embrace was a common and natural phenomenon, like clouds in the sky. But that's how Rex and Tali got mixed up in our cute threesome... especially Tali, who can't last long without her spacesuit and doesn't actually get out of the maintenance bay, my imagination is stalling. And there are discussions about who has whom, how and in what positions... it's better for the fighters not to know this, otherwise, I'm afraid, someone with a very sick imagination will fly into outer space without a spacesuit.
It's necessary... Rex, it turns out, was trying to clean the faces of both crested for a place in my bed. (Apparently the author got fed up with the comments.) I can't fucking get up! And the ideas of what Garrus does all day long under "Mako" generally amazed me to the depths of my soul and led me into a stupor. Yeah, with the Krogan... who just won't fit there physically in SUCH a position. If Rex or Garrus finds out, the Normandy will wash itself in blood. Literally. For such an insult, any Turian would kill on the spot. And the Krogan, too. And I won't even stop them.
I understand everything: abstinence, prohibition, a new female captain and a bunch of aliens on board, but you need to know the measure! A haven for old, depraved gossips, not the crew of a battleship... It's a good thing that Ashley and Kayden aren't involved in this, but you can see from their guilty faces that they know, but they're silent. And they are right to remain silent. They understand what this means.
If I want to kill the whole crew, it will be enough for me to show all this happiness to Rex, Garrus and Nihlus. They themselves will throw these idiots into space and will watch the swimming with interest.
Wearily rubbing the bridge of my nose, I focused on the scan. Pressley turned out to be clean and had no bad thoughts, which pleased me immensely. Whatever he was, he might have been itching about the unacceptability of so many xenos on board, but he was doing his job properly. And with all my might. Having puzzled the guy by compiling a list of absences for those who did not take a walk on our last visit to the Citadel and having taken the ship's condition report from him, I went to the Joker to cool off, not forgetting to go through the brains of the crew sitting in the navigation compartment.
One of the operators knocked on the Alliance's superiors. At first, I had the idea to stuff him with all sorts of joy, but I decided to regret his sound thinking and lack of a bad fantasy and made do with a filter bookmark that was not dangerous to the mind. The information about Benezia will go away in a generalized form and without specifying my digging into her brain, the guy will safely forget about the suspicious box, and in a couple of hours he will be picked up from the ship. When I entered the control room, the Joker was just arguing with the Citadel dispatcher, trying to squeeze out of the queue of traffic.
"I'm sorry, but we can't provide you with a hallway." An irritated and tired voice answered. "Frigate Normandy, you belong to the Alliance fleet and will be moved in..."
"We have a Spectr of Advice on board." Joker immediately reported, carefully circling the Asari's hefty, sprawling trough.
The dispatcher hesitated.
"There are a lot of Spectres coming to the Citadel right now. You will be moved..."
"We have TWO Spectr on board!"
A short pause.
"Please provide their names."
"The spectr of Nihlus Krayk and the Spectr of Irene Shepard." The pilot said with a pleased face.
The dispatcher was silent for about a minute, apparently checking the information. Finally, a slightly surprised response:
"A permanent berthing area number 7-9834-38 has been allocated for you in the area of the Special Tactical Intelligence Corps. Hallway..." next is a long number. "Citadel Control, over and out."
End of communication.
The Joker, humming a song to himself, stretched contentedly, and then noticed me.
"Captain!"
"Are you taking advantage?"
I leaned against the ever-empty copilot's seat.
"There's a queue for clocks even for warships!"
"And why are you so happy?"
"The permanent site is attached to the ship, regardless of whether it is on the station or not. It's like a private parking space." the pilot explained willingly. "Now we won't have to hang out in queues."
At least something good.
"Apparently, your mission is important enough for the Council, since we were allowed into the ports of the Special Corps." Jeff shook his head.
"Our mission is VERY important."
The Joker nodded, and pulled out a datapad from somewhere under the chair. The anticipatory smile with which the pilot handed me this quite ordinary device made it clear WHAT was written on it.
"Again, or what?"
"It's a real holiday today!"
I sat in the copilot's seat, turned on the datapad, and started reading. By the end of the rather lengthy file, my eye was twitching and my fingers were twitching nervously from the desire to rip out someone's tongue. Taking a slow, deep breath, I turned off the datapad and shoved it into my pants pocket.
"You know, if Nihlus finds out, at least... I'm just not talking about Garrus or Rex... We will not wash the ship of blood."
The Joker nodded. But he couldn't help but chuckle.
"It's not funny, Jeff," I said, closing my eyes to calm my anger. "They'll just kill them, and no one in Citadel Space will blame them for that. Does Kayden know that they've already gotten to him?"
"Not yet."
"And where did they get such a sick fantasy from?" I asked resignedly.
The Joker laughed, but said nothing, steering the ship towards the huge station. It's funny to him... He just doesn't understand how it can end! He thinks the fighters are laughing and that's it. Nothing like that! And fuck them if they just thought nasty things and quietly rustled in their cabins, but no... The crew members were discussing it in the canteen! Do they even have an instinct for self-preservation? I know for sure that Garrus has a long knife hidden in his shoe, which only falls a little short of the definition of a "short sword". Although the handle looks organic among a bunch of fasteners and bells and whistles, it is not particularly hidden. Nihlus has a knife too. And a sword that can easily cut through light armor. He wears it on his hip without hiding it at all. And these assholes think Nihlus is just messing around. The idiots. Turians don't know the concept of "decorative weapons" at all! And they know how to use all the weapons they carry on themselves! Always. No exceptions!
What were they taught at all?
At least the XO, Ashley and Kayden don't suffer from such idiocy... Pressley looks at the predatory blade with respect and a degree of hostile apprehension, as well as at Nihlus himself.
This time, the Normandy approached the Citadel from the other side, taxiing to the attachment point of one of the "petals", where the ports of the SPECTR were located. The density of the flow of ships here was low, and for the most part there were personal ships of the Spectr at the berthing sites.
Nihlus came into the control room. The Joker nodded at him in greeting, without distracting himself from his work.
"Is your ship here too?" I asked.
"Yes. It's three tiers lower, in the hangar. Ships that are preparing for departure are at the mooring sites. The rest are being dragged to hangars so that they don't take up space."
A short jolt signaled the activation of the grapples: the Normandy moored to the site. Garrus was already waiting for us near the airlock, dressed in civilian clothes and with a powerful pistol on his belt. Liara chose to stay on the ship with her mother this time.
The ports of the Special Corps were practically no different from similar sites of the military port, except that no one approached us, and the C-SEC fighters standing at the elevator doors glanced at us indifferently, but showed no particular interest.
"Have you contacted the Council?" I asked when the doors closed and the elevator went down.
"Yes. The advisor is already waiting." seeing my surprise, Nihlus explained. "Sparatus oversees our assignment, and we report to him. There are many spectr in the Galaxy. The Council cannot meet for every report."
It makes perfect sense.
"Why him?"
"Spectr's are usually recruited from the races that have joined the Council: Salarians, Asari, and us. Operatives report to an adviser of their own race, which makes it easier to work and understand, but there is no human adviser, and you need to work somehow. Since I was supposed to be your supervisor, you were assigned to our corps after you were awarded Spectr status."
"It's interesting..."
That's the twist... It turns out that I've been assigned to the Spectr Turian Corps. A human! Cool! If the real Shepard were in my place, there would be no conflicts... download it. Just brilliant!
"Whose idea was it?"
"Valern." Nihlus chuckled.
"Did he kindly decide to plant something nasty on a colleague? And Sparatus agreed?"
"Surprisingly, he agreed. He's human, though... not that he hates, but he dislikes, that's for sure. Especially after some kind of murky story with Saren."
"Then I don't understand him."
"Me too." Nihlus spread his hands. "The allocation was made immediately after the decision was made to grant you the status. Do you mind?"
"Why all of a sudden?" I was surprised. "Sparatus is a sensible guy, and I didn't notice any negativity in my direction. Although there was hostility at the first meeting of the Council. I don't understand at all what changed in a couple of hours, but he behaved differently at the second meeting. With some humor, I would say."
The music in the elevator changed, getting really boring. Was it really impossible to record something better after building such a station? At least the sound quality! Or is it such sophisticated sadism? The elevator, as if mocking, crawled like a mortally wounded caterpillar. But finally, this harassment ended, and we fell out onto a small square, from the edge of which a golden taxi terminal shone invitingly at us.
"Where to go?"
"It's night on the Citadel right now, by the way." Nihlus chuckled. "Sparatus is waiting at home."
I wonder if Nihlus just called his relative out of the goodness of his heart in the middle of the night, or did he contact him first and then find out the time? Sparatus' decision is, in principle, logical: they woke you up anyway, so why prolong the "pleasure"?
"Couldn't you wait until morning?"
"Haymon ordered me to report immediately." The Turian shrugged his shoulders.
"Who?"
Nihlus laughed softly.
"Haymon Sparatus. That's his name."
A taxi stopped in front of the terminal and expectantly raised the canopy of the cabin.
It didn't take long to get to the house I already knew. Garrus tried to leave, apparently not wanting to be in front of the clear eyes of the adviser, but Nihlus, wincing, did not allow him to do so.
Sparatus met us in a familiar room, where, to our surprise, Tevos turned out to be. Garrus' presence only drew interested glances, but I didn't notice any dissatisfaction or indignation. Sparatus, of course, recognized Vakarian, but reacted with a touch of irony.
"Councilor Sparatus, Councilor Tevos." Nihlus, as the most senior of us, took on the role of negotiator.
Sparatus gestured to the couch opposite, ordering him to sit down. So we sat down in a row: Nihlus, me, Garrus. Tevos watched us with mild interest, but, on the whole, benevolently. Nihlus did not wait for the order and briefly described the situation on Noveria, but for some reason did not report the result of our revelries, sleeping in the cabin, the infirmary and the hold.
"What is the fate of Lady Benezia?" Tevos asked softly.
"The matriarch is in the Normandy infirmary."
"The reason?"
Nihlus looked at me. Tevos raised her eyebrows in surprise, exchanged glances with Sparatus.
"The state of the matriarch..." Nihlus stammered, and then just waved his hand and said in plain text: "Matriarch Benezia is still under the Reaper's control."
The advisers were not surprised, but Nihlus' words were unpleasant and raised huge issues.
"Tell us more about it."
"When we arrived on Noveria, Matriarch Benezia was already there and was in the risk laboratory, where they managed to recreate the rachni queen from the eggs found on the wrecked ship."
But now the amazement splashed on all sides.
"Where is the Rachni queen now?" Tevos asked.
"In a box in the hold." Nihlus answered automatically with a phrase that he had to say twenty times in the last four days, and that's why it easily and naturally fell off his tongue.
Sparatus choked on his words and coughed, and Tevos barely managed to control her surprise, not letting her jaw drop unsightly.
"Spectr Nihlus, did we hear wrong?"
"No. Queen Rachni is in a box in the hold of the Normandy." Nihlus repeated once more with a stony face. "She's asking for protection."
"Are you sure?" Asari asked in amazement.
She is ready to become a part of our civilization.
"The condition?"
"A planet where she can revive her family. The Queen is ready to fight our enemies. She knows about the Reapers and will help."
For the first time, I saw the confusion on Sparatus and Tevos' faces.
"Who was in contact with the Queen?"
"Irene."
And again that look of hungry predators looking at a delicious piece of meat. Interesting, interesting... I'm tempted to get into their brains and find out why they're so intrigued. But I stepped on my throat, and I didn't climb in. Today's crew scan was enough for me. I don't want to be disappointed in these reasonable ones.
"What can you say about the queen?" Sparatus asked, staring intently into my eyes.
He was wrong, of course, but I respected the man, and that's why his secrets remained secrets. She communicates mentally, is not capable of lying in principle, and is submissive because she understands the situation. She admitted that her appearance was controlled, and the aggression was provoked. By the mental imprint on Benezia's mind, she recognized the Reaper. I am ready to cooperate and become our ally. I decided it was unwise to destroy the queen or leave her on Noveria, so we took her with us. She's in a dream state right now."
"The reason for this decision?" Tevos asked with interest.
"It might come in handy."
From this formulation of the answer and the motivation of the act, Sparatus chuckled and looked at Nihlus in great surprise. My partner pretended to be blind and deaf.
"Rahni are strong fighters." I added hesitantly. "They can be useful if you can keep the queen safe."
"Where is the ship?"
"On the site you have selected."
"We'll pick her up."
We nodded simultaneously. Garrus pretended to be part of the decor, even though he was listening very carefully to the conversation. The councilors sometimes glanced at the young Turian, but so far they had not touched him, although they remembered him.
"You said that the matriarch is still under the influence of the Reaper." Tevos said softly.
"Yes."
"How does this influence manifest itself?"
"Mental bookmarks and a subordinate channel." I replied. "Lady Benezia will do EVERYTHING on Saren's orders. Controlling strings are tied to him, but indirectly, and, if necessary, the Ruler can easily replace the image of the Anchor and redirect loyalty to his other puppet."
"Where does this information come from?" Sparatus rasped.
"I can see it. And to remove, however, with great difficulty. In four days, it was only possible to squeeze the channel of mental communication with the Lord and partially remove the weights."
It took us a long time to decide whether to tell the Council about my mentalist gift or not, but we still came to the conclusion that it was worth it. But — partially, without telling the true possibilities. Gradually, as needed, more information can be provided, but for now... Now I need to at least teach my advisors that I can restore my mind after the Reaper's intervention. It's still impossible to hide the gift, especially after Saren's capture. So let them find out from us now rather than from someone else later.
Tevos carefully chose her words:
"Irene's spectr. Can you see interference in someone else's mind?"
"I can. But it requires effort, rest, and greatly weakens the body. Three days of working with the matriarch ended in severe exhaustion."
The counselor nodded slowly, looking at my still pale face with beautiful circles under sleepy eyes.
"Can you completely free her from the influence?"
"Yes, in ten or twelve days. After that, the matriarch will need complete peace and a friendly environment so as not to provoke the protective mechanisms of consciousness."
"Do you have those ten days?"
I shook my head.
"In a day we will fly to Vermaer for Saren. The sooner we get him, the better... there are more chances that the identity will be preserved."
"There are no objections." Sparatus snapped. "What other information did you find out?"
Nihlus has conceded the dubious pleasure of reporting to me.
"We found out that the true purpose of Rachni's rebirth is the coordinates of the relay leading to Ilos. That's where the entrance to the Canal is located. As it turns out, this is the only repeater created by non-Reapers! It was made by the Protheans."
The councillors exchanged glances again. Amazing mutual understanding! They don't even need to speak out loud: they understand each other by the smallest facial expressions and body movements.
"What is the value of this repeater?"
"In my opinion, it's only the creation technology. We are too dependent on repeaters, too vulnerable. We need OUR OWN relays, not those made by our enemy!"
Tevos nodded in agreement.
"Did you get the coordinates?"
"We found out, but they are very vague. A search is required. The approximate location is the Terminus system. The relay was shifted due to a supernova explosion. I'll tell you the exact coordinates later, when I can narrow down the search region. There are Prothean Archives on Ilos. If there's anything left."
"As soon as you find out the coordinates of the repeater on Ilos, let us know immediately." Sparatus's voice was a rasp of metal. "We will send a fleet."
Nihlus tilted his head slightly to one side.
"Terminus systems will be... They are unhappy."
"It's high time to clean this sewer." the adviser snapped harshly. "This is not the situation to coddle this rabble."
"The Alliance will be outraged."
"These are our problems." Asari replied softly with a completely leering smile.
I nodded. Udina will yell in a bad voice and eat her brain with a coffee spoon through her ears, but Tevos is an experienced politician and will cope with the old brainiac. Sparatus, as always, will assume the appearance of a skeptical, stubborn, narrow-minded warrior and diplomatically send an ambassador to deep space. Valern will freeze off. They're funny, these advisers. They have beautifully distributed the roles and play them well. I am glad that in reality they turned out to be smart, moderately paranoid and cautious people. At the same time, with a certain amount of adventurousness: they did not immediately reject my words, but gave me a chance to prove my case.
"Will do."
"What else have you learned?"
"Eta Hawking system, the Thorn system, the Mnemosyne planet. In its orbit is a half-dead Reaper, about thirty-seven million years old." The councillors shuddered. "The creature is relatively safe, since it cannot move and does not show active signs of life, but it puts pressure on the brain and can subdue. It should be captured and studied, first making sure that the Reaper does not regenerate."
"Do you want to personally participate in this mission?" Tevos asked.
"That would be highly desirable. I need to know what to really expect from the Reapers, and where to look for the brains of the Overlord. But that's after we get back from Vermaer, otherwise I'm afraid there won't be anyone left to save."
"We will prepare a squadron." Tevos nodded. "What do you know about this Reaper?"
"Only that he was shot at and shot down, critically wounding."
"By what?"
"I don't know. Some kind of weapon based on the mass effect. There is no exact information. That's all we've been able to find so far." I said.
The councilors exchanged glances again, and again that quick, silent conversation. Whatever they were discussing, Sparatus nodded contentedly and reported:
"Your requests to the Special Corps have been approved. Take whatever you need. Inspection and repair of the ship has already begun."
"Thank you, Counselor."
For this we were graciously released. And just as we were leaving, an ironic message flew at my back:
"I hope Venari won't send me an entertaining read tomorrow with a dynamic video sequence about the entertainment of two Board Members and a former C-SEC employee in Nizhny gorod."
The vibrant voice of the Turian advisor oozed with veiled malice and amusement, though without a trace of displeasure. I blushed a little, Nihlus lost his step, and Garrus, who had already seeped into the hallway, choked on air. Sparatus watched our pantomime with a kind of fatherly affection! He seemed amused by our spree. So let it make you laugh, but we will... Let's go for a walk again. Today. The main thing tomorrow is to escape from the Citadel on time.
"I hope he won't, Counselor Sparatus."
In response, a soft rasping laugh and a supportive:
"Are free."
We were swept away at the speed of light, literally a minute later we were on the street, and we breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, I'm not the only one who feels like I'm in an enclosure with feline predators. In a bowl for grub! Nevertheless, advisers are something! As long as I've lived, such politicians still send shivers through my body... I don't want to be a great schemer. Not mine! Shrugging my shoulders, I looked at the Turians in turn and asked a sacramental question:
"And where to next?"
Instead of answering, they grabbed me by the elbows and dragged me to the taxi stand....
"Do you think we did the right thing?" Tevos asked softly, watching the retreating figures.
"Do you still have doubts?" The Turian walked over to the window and rested his palm on the narrow sill.
"She's not telling the whole truth."
"She doesn't trust us. This is natural." Sparatus shrugged his powerful shoulders. "I'm actually surprised that they decided to talk about her gift. Even so... generally speaking."
"Are they covering for her?" Surprise flashed in the Asari's deep voice.
"Yes. I told you that." The Turian couldn't help but smile as he watched the short conversation end with a determined tow of a fragile girlish figure to a taxi. "She managed to win their loyalty."
"They share a secret. For three people. It shows." Tevos agreed, watching the emotional exchange with interest. "Do they know about the substitution?"
"Nihlus knows. He couldn't help but notice the change in behavior. His reviews and characterization of Commander Shepard were far from enthusiastic. He strongly did NOT recommend the Commander as a candidate for the Spectr. After Eden Prime, opinion changed dramatically."
"The impact?" The Asari raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"No. This is a personal sympathy. I believe Garrus Vakarian joined her squad for the same reason."
"He is young, idealistic and impulsive."
"But not a fool." the Turian objected. "Kirrus taught his son well. Venari spoke well of him, although he complained about his intemperance, excessive adventurism and disregard for subordination."
"I can't object. The younger Vakarian is interesting."
"It's worth taking a closer look at it." Sparatus agreed.
"Is that the only reason you decided to change Irene Shepard's status from Novick to full Spectr? Is it too fast? She didn't get any training. She doesn't know anything."
The altercation at the taxi ended: Nihlus intercepted the girl by the waist and shoved her into the aircar to the laughter of the younger Vakarian, ignoring the sluggish attempts of resistance. Having screwed up, the former most unpredictable and idealistic C-SEC officer jumped into the cab, and the taxi quickly gained altitude and disappeared into the traffic flow.
"She has someone to explain it to and keep her from making mistakes." Sparatus chuckled. "As far as I know, Irene's Spectr listens to the opinions of those whom she calls friends."
"In a couple of hours, she managed to assemble a very interesting team." Tevos tilted her head to the side. "Turian, Quarian, Krogan. Sometimes it seems to me that the concept of "racial hostility" is simply unknown to her."
"The advisor inclined his head in agreement."
"The current Irene Shepard meets the requirements for a Special Corpus operative. And I'm not interested in which gods or spirits had a hand in her transformation, as long as she's doing everything in her power to save our civilization. You said yourself, the threat of the Reapers is not a fiction."
Tevos shuddered.
"There is no lie in her words. Evasiveness, avoiding direct answers — yes. But never a direct lie." azari moved away from the window and returned to the sofa. "So far, her words have been confirmed. You're right. She deserves your trust. We need to show her that we can be trusted, too. Support at the right moment. I suppose the Alliance will provide the opportunity."
Sparatus nodded.
"They'll never let her out of control, but they don't realize that she's ALREADY turned her back on them. I've read her file. I guess we've already seen all of her current friends. And there are only two people among them — a brilliant disabled pilot and a ship's doctor."
"What about Captain Anderson?"
"There may be gratitude, but there is no trace of the old blind worship. That old Commander Shepard would not even allow the thought of going against the word of command and trying to save her enemy. Especially someone like Saren Arterius." Sparatus fell silent. "I am grateful to her for saving Nihlus's life."
"She had her reasons." Tevos said.
"Were. I can even guess which ones." Sparatus chuckled. "I am ready to forgive a lot and I will close my eyes to a lot if they succeed in their plans." a short pause. "If she succeeds in EVERYTHING she has planned... I will petition the Hierarch to grant her full citizenship and will provide any assistance I can without asking unnecessary questions."
"You trust her." There was a hint of reproach in the deep head.
"Yes." The Turian counselor sat down on the edge of the couch. "She will be able to take root in our world."
"Do you know something?"
"Rather, I saw something that wasn't meant for me." The man chuckled softly.
"Will you show me?"
"Undoubtedly." The vibrant low voice turned into a purr. "I'll puzzle you in revenge for those colorful nightmares."
"Thank your protégé for them." The soft, throaty laughter of the Asari. "I couldn't sleep properly for a decade!"
"I know. She woke up screaming every night. But it was a strong move on her part, you must admit."
"Right. The main thing is that the information is really from the lighthouse. I guess they showed me... especially impressive moments." Tevos shook her head. "Oh, yeah... You haven't looked at everything yet. I haven't seen the most interesting part..."
"You have the opportunity to show." Sparatus purred.
The azure eyes were rapidly filling with darkness. Slender fingers wrapped around the head of the bent Turian, two pairs of eyes met.
"Embrace eternity..."
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