Rebirth the mass effect book 1.part 10-1

Chapter 10.1 Advice: A Key Decision

I was woken up by the sound of a omny— tool. Damn it! I slept so well, quietly, calmly, in a warm aura under the unobtrusive murmur of water, and here... Who needs me there? Opening my eyes a little, I turned on this filth on the audio broadcast and said dully:

"Shepard's on the line."

"Commander, come to the Council meeting immediately!" Udina's voice startled me out of my sleep. "And bring your own... Friends!"

"We'll be right there." I grumbled, cutting the connection. "Udina is a brute... I've had such a bad dream..."

There was a muffled gasp of air overhead. When I opened my eyes, I found that I had been sleeping safely all this time, having adapted Garrus as a pillow, and he was sitting, afraid to move once more, so as not to wake me up. So that's who has such a pleasant warm aura... Interesting.

Straightening up, I yawned profusely, rubbed my eyes, frowning at the real world. The world ignored me, Garrus was silent and pretended to be an organic part of the bench, Tali giggled softly.

"Tali!"

The girl laughed at my reproachful look, and Garrus would have blushed if he could.

As it was, he just pressed his mandibles to his cheeks and avoided making eye contact with me. No, really, it's lovely! Until a weapon appears in his hands, and the kind guy Garrus Vakarian turns into an Archangel, whose reflection I clearly saw in the cruel and cold blue eyes looking at Fist sprawled on the floor.

"Tali, stop laughing. Come on, let's please the Council with our faces." Yawning, I smoothed my shaggy reddish hair, putting myself in relative order. The mirrored glass in the wall of the building clearly showed my sleepy face with the red imprint of the armor relief. A very distinctive print, by the way! Rubbing my cheek, I waved my hand, muttering under my breath:

"What the hell?" and a little louder already: "Information overload turns me into a dormouse. Thanks for letting me sleep."

"You said that the lighthouse uploaded a lot of information to your brain." Tali asked.

"Yes", Tali and Garrus listened carefully. "If I close my eyes a little, I almost instantly switch off and have bloody nightmares. You know, watching entire civilizations being destroyed..." I shook my head.

Garrus and Tali exchanged glances, but said nothing. And I don't need words: empathy developed very quickly, and I could already read emotions quite clearly.

Having dusted ourselves off and tidied ourselves up, we crawled up the wide front stairs to the Council platform. The guards checked us and let us through. The meeting was closed and there were no outsiders present. The acoustics of the hall were good, so even at the door we heard a familiar audio file broadcasting in Saren's voice and the unknown's response.

"Did you want proof? That's it!"

I found the proof, too: an audio recording of dubious origin, which doesn't take much thought to make. If there is a voice sample.

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.