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Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

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    Part 1: Under the Shadow of the Soveren The author is Irina Lerkh. Rebirth is the old version. Irene wakes up after her death in another world in Shepard's body and gets closer to Garrus and Nihlus in pursuit of Saren.

  Rebirth The Mass Effect is old
  Part 1: Under the Shadow of the Soveren
  Chapter 1: Hello, new incarnation!
  The woman standing at the viewing screen suddenly screamed thinly and sank to the floor, writhing in short convulsions. His eyes rolled back in his head, his hands scrabbled on the metal floor, and only wheezing and squawking came out of his throat. People in dark military uniforms ran in, and the woman was taken to the infirmary. But the checks showed nothing: the captain, who was having a seizure, was completely healthy! But the brain activity was off the charts...
  The seizure ended as suddenly as it had begun. The female body suddenly went limp, the indicators calmed down and did not differ in any way from the standard data of a soundly sleeping person. The tall man asked softly:
  "Doctor, what's wrong with her?"
  "I'm sorry, Captain... I don't know." the doctor spread her hands in confusion.
  "How is she?"
  "The indicators are stable. Captain Shepard is just sleeping."
  "Let me know when she wakes up."
  "Yes, sir."
  The man abruptly turned around and left the infirmary. The doctor sighed heavily and returned to work, carefully examining the readings taken during the captain's strange attack.
  ***
  The agony of death still dominated my senses, shaking my body with spasms and convulsions, but gradually the phantom pains subsided, allowing me to take control of my new body. There were sensations, I felt smells when I inhaled, a metallic taste on my tongue, stiffness of the couch, tingling on my fingertips. Synchronization has ended. My soul settled into a new place, the connections were restored, the aura began to slowly unfold, recreating layer by layer, and I launched a diagnostic of the body. I need to know who I've been thrown into this time.
  I was pleased with the result: the body is feminine, healthy, human, at the peak of its development. An ideal option for rebuilding. Gradually, as my aura unfolds and I assimilate with my soul, my body will change, acquiring the properties that I have managed to consolidate. Regeneration is activated first. Then there's mentalism, as soon as the eighth layer is restored. And, as an ideal, my Gift and the transformations it grants. As soon as the inner layers settle down, the memory of the recipient whose body I have occupied will begin to be absorbed.
  Was I sorry for the woman whose existence I had so abruptly ended? Not for a moment! Her soul went into rebirth without damage and with a decent supply of energy, so the next birth will be extremely successful and happy - this is my compensation, a kind of payment for the interrupted rebirth. And experience tells me that this woman's life would be... Stormy. Very violent and bloody. It doesn't throw me into other destinies...
  The second layer unfolded. The racing thoughts calmed down. My mind cleared, my psyche stabilized, and my mind cleared. The third layer will take several hours to open and give me power over my body. The fourth will unfold by the end of the day, and with the activation of the fifth, I will begin to absorb information from the host's brain. Means... sleep. A short mental command, and my mind obediently went out, plunging me into sleep.
  
  Consciousness turned on with a jerk. At the edge of perception, a sense of life unfolded, the beating of some powerful energy, a conversation carried by the ear, but the mind was in no hurry to comprehend someone else's speech. Her MEMORY unfolded in front of me. The memory of a woman named Irene Shepard.
  Looking through the stingy, partially incomplete memories, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the realization of WHAT embodied reality me was thrown into! And even at the moment of the beginning of Branching. Or, in other words, a couple of days before the start of the canon.
  I couldn't help but giggle. I never thought that one day I would be reborn in the embodied reality of the Mass Effect! I usually get thrown into worlds... not so developed, although sometimes much more perverted. Oh well, at least a touching childhood dream will come true.: I'm going to space! I will see alien races, visit other planets... The beginning euphoria was interrupted by the rustle of opening doors and the barely audible click of heels. Well, Irene, it's time to wake up and explore a new world. Fortunately, the upcoming meeting with the Protean lighthouse will allow me to write off all my oddities and extensive memory lapses to him.
  Blinking in the bright light, I opened my eyes. A soft cry, the rustle of clothes. I carefully propped myself up on my elbows, peering at the ash-haired woman who jumped up to me. Whatever her name is... Karin Chakvas, trauma surgeon, staff physician at Normandy.
  "Captain Shepard!" Karin's voice turned out to be very pleasant, but full of sincere concern.
  "Doctor? What happened? Why am I in the infirmary?"
  "Is unknown." The doctor stared intently into my face with intelligent gray eyes. You suddenly have cramps. There were no injuries, no abnormalities, but the body was in agony. After seven minutes, the cramps stopped, and you fell asleep for a day.
  "That's how..." I nodded slowly. The agony of death, as always, ricocheted through the body. Things happen. "Strangely, I feel quite well. Where are we?"
  The doctor understood my question quite correctly:
  "We just jumped over the repeater to Eden Prime."
  That's it! The Beginning Of Branching. Eden Prime. The first distortion is always difficult. Reality does not want to deviate from the "canon", from the matrix according to which it was embodied. I can only do one global Distortion. But what is it? Need to think.
  I stood up, interrupting the doctor's objections with a gesture, and silently left the infirmary. I need to find my immediate superiors and let them know that I am alive, healthy and ready to work. However, I didn't have to decide for a long time, as the intercom informed me that they were waiting for me in the briefing room.
  Then I'll crawl around the ship, poke my curious nose, but for now... Eden Prime is waiting for me!
  
  A tall Turian man was waiting for me in the briefing room. THE SPECTR OF Naylus Kraik. Stopping at the entrance to the gym, I leaned against the wall, staring intently at the man standing with his back to me, turning the crease inside out. The recipient's memory unleashed on me a wave of negativity and suspicion towards the SPECTR, which suddenly found itself on board with some kind of incomprehensible task. In principle, I can understand Irene: Nilus behaved with a degree of arrogance and coldness, cutting off any possibility of contact, and the hot-tempered Shepard, following the slight xenophobia and opinions of the crew, openly disliked the powerful Turian, although she observed strict neutrality. What do I know about this guy? Naylus Kraik, a student of Saren Arterius. Tough, ruthless, however, he does not reach the mentor either in cruelty or in this very ruthlessness, he treats people with cautious benevolence. He's a loner by nature, a great fighter. He nominated Irene as a candidate for Spectr. He'll die on Eden Prime, shot in the back of the head by Saren.
  Or he won't die.
  I have one global distortion of reality. Two intelligent people from my environment who can somehow influence the further development of this reality will die on this planet: Jenkins and Nilus. The first one gets a bullet from a Geth drone, the second one gets the same thing from a mentor. Only one person can survive. It's easy to save Jenkins. Naylus is almost impossible, but their influence on events directly depends on the static nature of fate. Well... I have some time to come to a final decision.
  I detached myself from the wall and sauntered over to the Turian, greeting him with a nod of my head. It's time to start preparing this reality for Change!
  "Captain Shepard," the Turian's voice was surprisingly low and deep, with a slight metallic tinge and a barely audible rumble, as if a huge cat were speaking. "We'll have a chance to talk."
  I tilted my head to the side, peering with interest at the man slowly pacing in front of me. The Turian is a tall, powerfully built humanoid. Her figure is powerful, but surprisingly slender. A similar illusion was created by a thin waist and long legs, and the peculiarity of a cat's step: without full support on the foot. The appearance did not cause hostility. A beautiful race. Predatory. Dangerous. The light grace of a wild beast, the smooth, honed movements of a fighter, economical gestures, the gaze of bright green eyes, looking somewhat wary. A face with a hard chitinous integument, but moderately expressive, however, facial expressions can be determined solely by the eyes of mobile mandibles. The harmony of the face falls under the definition of "beautiful" and therefore the Turian does not fall into the category of "freak".
  "We can talk. - I easily agree, smiling a little.
  There is wariness and distrust in the green eyes. Yes, Naylus is far from being stupid, the crew's attitude to himself was perfectly understood and felt. You can even sympathize. The negativity was felt even by my neutered empathic sense.
  "Don't mind?" The mandible twitched slightly.
  Reality wavered. A minor digression. The beginning of the stratification of the chain of events. The first sign of a Change in the rejection of the Branch of reflected reality from the main tree of embodied reality. Continue... The history of embodied reality does not like digressions... she will try to return events to the programmed course. Let's see what I can change.
  "No. Talking to an intelligent interlocutor is a pleasure that has been so rare lately. Especially if the topic does not affect the service."
  The SPECTR understood my irony. He bowed his head slightly.
  "You weren't so friendly the last time we talked, Captain."
  I shrugged my shoulders.
  "The status obliges. Who better to know this than you?"
  The man nodded.
  The conversation turned aside. Nilus on Eden Prime... He didn't even mention it. That's wonderful. To listen to pretentious nonsense, which the SPECTRUM itself does not believe in...why?
  "What brings you aboard the Normandy, SPECTRE?" I smiled at the way the Turian flinched. "Don't tell me stories about testing a stealth system."
  "You've already figured it out." not a question, but a simple statement of fact.
  "I hope I'm not stupid."
  "Don't take my words as an insult." The Turian waved a three-fingered hand in alarm.
  His attempt at justification is to apologize so much... It's touching and funny, which only causes a smile and a slight touch of emotion. It's funny when such a powerful being apologizes for such a small thing.
  "I won't count it. And yet, Naylus, what brings you to the Normandy?"
  Anderson, who entered the round room, saved the Turian from having to get out. With the man's first words, the story returned to its original tracks. I listened to Anderson with half an ear, carefully watching the Turian standing next to me, forming his image. My eyes involuntarily clung to the little things that were so insignificant at first glance: small reflex gestures, the way he moved, the timbre of his voice, the fleur of his emotions that I vaguely felt, the expression of his surprisingly green eyes. Anderson started talking about the mission on Eden Prime. Nielus immediately tensed up. His mandibles were pressed tightly against his cheeks, and his eyes were alert. Waiting for my reaction?
  And what do you want to take off the planet? I asked with a slight irony in my voice, looking into Nilus green eyes a little maliciously.
  The captain answered me:
  "During the excavations at Eden Prime, scientists found some kind of lighthouse. Most likely, it's a prothean."
  I chuckled.
  "How can you be sure that this is a lighthouse and not something else?"
  The captain had no answer to this question, and he hesitated, not knowing what to say. The Turian's green eyes were filled with bewilderment and confusion. I was frankly falling out of the image that he had managed to create during his time on board the ship.
  "Let's say it's a lighthouse, and let's say it's a Prothean." I looked at the confused Turian with interest. "I understand your desire to bring the device out of Eden Prime. As far as I know, there is no way to study such devices on this planet. Am I right in my assumptions?"
  Anderson and Naylus nodded in unison.
  "Correct me if I'm wrong about anything." the SPECTR flinched from my kind smile, but did not look away. "An artifact has been found on the planet, presumably a Prothean beacon, with great potential value for all races living in Council space. Since there is no way to examine the device or ensure its safety on Eden Prime, it was decided to take it out. The Citadel, I suppose."
  Naylus nodded. Anderson blinked and said nothing.
  "I will not touch on the political side of this decision. It is multifaceted, although it can be described in one word." Seeing the interest in the green eyes, she pressed: "Rollback. Advice from people."
  Naylus was embarrassed and looked away. Of course, he understands the background of what is happening. Captain Anderson chuckled.
  "Although it is roughly said, but in fact it is true."
  "I can believe that transporting a lighthouse is reason enough for one of most respected and well-known the Council's Spectrs to spend so much personal time."
  Only a deaf person would not have heard the irony in my voice. Naylus chuckled, spreading his mandibles in a slight grin.
  "You're perceptive, Captain Shepard."
  "As I said before, I dare say I'm not stupid." My grin only made the Turian smile wider, revealing a palisade of sharp, wedge-shaped teeth. "So what is the REAL reason for your attention, SPECTR?"
  "I want to see you in action, Shepard," the man replied, cocking his head slightly to one side.
  "Is curiosity idle or has a practical interest?" I asked, stopping Anderson from making a pretentious speech about the Alliance. Naylus noticed my maneuver and grinned.
  "Quite practical."
  "That's how?"
  "I have put forward your candidacy for the place of Spectr." the man kindly explained to me, cunningly flashing his predatory green eyes.
  I chuckled, casting an ironic glance at the captain.
  "I don't even know... should I be pleased with the honor or outraged that I was confronted with the fact?" The Turian understood me quite correctly, his green eyes glittering with hidden amusement. He enjoyed our sparring. "I think I'll choose the third one, and I'll say that I'll be happy to work with you, Naylus, regardless of the decision you make."
  Our sweet conversation, which was giving us both some fanatical pleasure, was interrupted by the excited voice of the pilot announcing the reception of the signal. The story is back on track. I calmly watched a short video that was transmitted to us by fighters from the surface of the planet. Nothing unexpected: a shootout with the Geth, the death of fighters, the Soveren in the sky. Expected. Anderson stared intently at the screen. Naylus was squinting at me, more interested in my reaction than in the image on the screen. The green eyes only flickered once at the screen when the Reaper appeared on it. And they returned almost instantly. Meeting my gaze, the Turian slightly tilted his head at the screen. I raised an eyebrow. In response, a questioning urk. Like a cat, what a word! My serene smile colored his gaze with concern.
  Anderson sounded the alert, and I left to prepare for the landing. The recipient's memory was fully assimilated, I was more or less familiar with weapons, and therefore the preparation did not take much time. Already standing in the airlock, I approached the Turian and said softly,:
  "Naylus, may I ask for... in some way... a promise."
  SPEKTR gasped at the question and blinked in surprise. He was the only one who heard my words: the Turians' hearing is very sharp, and he easily heard my almost silent whisper. He hesitated for a few moments, but curiosity overcame his doubts, and the man answered just as quietly.:
  "You can."
  "Naylus. Swear to me that you will NOT turn your back on an armed reasonable. The green eyes widened in surprise. Especially if you know this reasonable person perfectly well and trust him infinitely." My cold voice and gaze made him flinch.
  "Do you know something?"
  "Intuition." - a hard look of green eyes in response.
  "She is very tender and sensitive to those who live in war. Mine is RARELY wrong. And I smell betrayal and your stupid death."
  The Turian blinked. I liked the hard, staring look. The man thought about it. He didn't brush it off, but took it into consideration, glaring at me suspiciously. And finally, a slow response.
  Naylus swore without a trace of irony.
  "Naylus." The man tilted his head questioningly. "If you die, I'll kill you."
  A low rumbling laugh, and the SPECTR moved away to the descending ramp.
  I'm sorry, Jenkins. I'm afraid you won't survive the first Geth drone attack. Naylus's life is more important to me than yours.
  Chapter 2: Eden Prime: Losses
  The crimson colors of the sunset flooded the silent world with blood. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, blinding sensitive eyes, and it smelled acutely of smoke and burning. The tall building was filled with heavy smoke from the fire. The trees rustled softly, the dry soil creaked under the soles. A heavy, oppressive picture. Alenko shivered.
  "It smells of smoke and death." - the fighter's quiet hoarse voice sounded... organically in the atmosphere of a world drowning in sunset.
  I nodded silently, lowering my visor. The sniper rifle clicked softly, coming into firing position. I don't like rushing headlong into the unknown. I may remember the canon, but my knowledge has already been blurred by time, and I cannot guarantee its absolute accuracy. Embodied reality is not a game. Minor changes that do not affect the key chain of events are quite normal and may cost me my life. I'm not Shepard. I am outside the rules of this world. I will die, and another hero will come in my place and lead this universe along the beaten path.
  "Let's go."
  The fighters followed me, looking warily around, only Alenko muttered softly: "Damn!", plunging into a murky greenish slush.
  We found the first bodies on a rock very close to the landing point: black, burnt to slag, they lay losing their greasy ashes in the gusts of wind. Alenko swallowed.
  "What happened here?"
  "We'll find out soon enough." catching the fighter's gaze, I dryly retorted: "Stop being hysterical! It's like seeing a corpse for the first time!"
  The guy looked down and shut up, and I slowly walked forward. A little further on, there are more bodies scattered along the road. The same burnt ones, crumbling into pieces of ashes and more smoldering coals.
  A barely audible whistling sound made me abruptly raise my clenched fist. The soldiers froze, listening to the whistling of the wind. Was it just my imagination? It shouldn't be...There are three Geth drones out there somewhere. I pointed my fingers at my eyes and waved my hand. Jenkins nodded and cautiously stepped out onto the road, peering intently at the bushes and trees.
  The drones appeared unexpectedly, emerging from behind a large rock. A short burst of blue pulses, and Jenkins collapsed onto the road with a muffled wheeze, Alenko stood up with a jerk, clinging to the stone.
  The sniper rifle jerked in my hands, and the drone crashed to the ground, sparking and smoking. The subtle beep of reloading, catching the next one in the sights, firing. Alenko took off the last one.
  Damn it! Three flying things and immediately - a corpse on the ground! That's how you could put yourself up like that? Lowering my weapon, I cautiously approached the fighter's body. Is dead. The shots penetrated the flimsy shield instantly, ripping through the light armor.
  A confused Alenko stopped nearby.
  "Jenkins..."
  "Is dead. Inattention leads to such results." bending down, she closed the wide-open eyes of the dead man. "Be careful. After completing the mission, his body will be taken to the ship."
  Alenko nodded curtly, frowning at me. What did you expect, I'll be hysterical and upset? So it would be worth learning the psychological profile of your commander! Irene was anything but a compassionate idiot. Jenkins, somewhere in the depths of my callous soul, was still a pity. A self-confident, enthusiastic young guy. I remember him bragging to Dr. Chakwas. Unfortunately, such people are the first to die. Stepping over the body, I moved forward, moving from stone to stone. These drones are not the only ones here.
  The connection clicked softly and Naylus's muffled voice reported:
  "Shepard, there are several burnt-out buildings and a lo-ot of corpses." a purring voice stretched out this "a lot", giving me an estimate of the scale of the disaster. "I'll try to scout out the situation and meet you at the excavation site."
  "Don't you remember what you said before we landed?" I asked quietly.
  A short pause and a muffled reply:
  "I remember."
  "Don't disappoint me, Naylus. I don't want to find your body. Jenkins is enough for me."
  "Died?"
  "Yes. Try not to add to the number of our losses."
  The connection is gone. Alenko looked at me strangely, but, thank all the gods of this world, he did not comment in any way.
  "Be careful! These drones are clearly not the only ones here!"
  The man shuddered, tightened his grip on the rifle and slowly walked forward. I stood a little to the side, peering into the rustling foliage, at the massive tree trunks, at the boulders. The drones attacked twice more, but now, knowing what to expect, they were easily killed. Only Kayden had taken a couple of shots in the shoulder, and now, hissing obscenities, he was treating his wounds with panacelin, trying not to meet my eyes. Shame on the parasite!
  Shots rang out ahead. Kayden jumped up and grabbed his weapon.
  "Take your time. Finish the dressing. I'll check it out."
  The fighter nodded and went back to work, and I climbed up a small hill and peered through the scope, peering into a rather vast little valley stretching along steep hills to the excavation site, whose lamps dispersed the sunset twilight with bright arrows of white light.
  Gunshots and the already familiar whistle of drones sounded closer, a woman in gray-steel armor jumped out from behind the rocks, slipped, caught a shot in the back, absorbed by the bluish film of the shield. Ashley Williams. A short thrust of the butt into the shoulder, the drone somersaulted in the air and crashed to the ground. Ashley rolled head over heels behind a rock, removing the last one and catching another shot. There were no storyline geths, but there was a body on the spike, and more than one, fortunately, it was still fresh, and you didn't have to wait for huskies from here for another couple of hours.
  While I was chatting with Ashley, Kayden stamped with a guilty face, and I confronted the fighter with the fact that this lady was coming with us. The guy didn't mind. A little further behind the piles of boulders and rock fragments, the excavation site and the Geth scurrying through it were beautifully illuminated by numerous searchlights. At this distance, even the powerful optics of the rifle made it impossible to examine the synthetics in more detail, but, reasonably thinking that I could easily examine their corpses in all the details, I squeezed the trigger. The Geth, hiding behind a rock, tumbled from the impact of a heavy bullet and sank to the ground. The creatures got nervous, scattering into hiding, and I shot them steadily and methodically, preventing them from leaning out and approaching the range of fire, fortunately, the Geth did not carry sniper weapons.
  Funny, they really have a light bulb on their head! And it's so convenient to aim at it! Kayden's attempts to rush into battle were cut short by a short mat and Ashley's hand, which pulled him behind cover. Shots slammed into the stone, where his evil head had been a moment ago, knocking out fountains of stone chips.
  "Alenko!" I looked up from the optics and shook my head reproachfully.
  The man cringed guiltily.
  "Check it out. They could have hidden." Ashley and Alenko turned to the right, skirting a wide stone disk in an arc, hiding behind huge boulders. Shots rang out, and the geth screamed thinly. I must have really missed someone.
  "Clear." Ashley's back.
  I put the rifle away and came out of hiding. The ancient ruins spread out before me in all their glory... It sounds like it... In fact, I saw only a shallow excavation with an excavated massive double disc of yellowish stone and a pair of collapsed columns, whose purpose will remain lost in the darkness of history. The lighthouse, tellingly, is missing.
  "As I understand it, the lighthouse was here?" I nodded at the playground.
  Ashley nodded.
  "Yes. Apparently it has already been rescheduled."
  "Who! Ours or the Geth?"
  "It's hard to say." The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Let's check out the research camp and maybe find out more."
  "Do you think anyone survived?" I asked, folding the cooled weapons.
  Ashley shrugged her shoulders.
  "Maybe they survived if they hid. The camp is over there."
  The woman waved her hand, pointing to the hill at the base of which the lighthouse was found.
  The connection clicked.
  "Plans are changing, Shepard," Nayllus voice sounded strained. "There is a small spaceport here. I'll check it out. I'll be waiting there."
  I didn't answer, but searched the neighborhood. An Avenger rifle was found in one of the drawers. A slightly more powerful model than my Lancer. After critically examining the weapon, I threw the service stuff into the rattled drawer and hung the Avenger on my back. Alenko blinked, and Ashley just chuckled, but said nothing, only approval flashed in her gray eyes.
  I didn't find anything else interesting. The tripods I already knew with the bodies of people strung on spikes stood in disarray along the ruins, but the rebuilding process had just begun and was not visible from the outside, although I could see the limbs of the definitely dead people twitching slightly.
  "To string on a stake ... Instead of shooting him... Shouldn't that make sense?" Ashley whispered, looking away.
  "They intimidate as." Kayden muttered.
  He kicked over the Geth corpse, and I shook my head.
  "These are synthetics, Kayden. They act from the point of view of logic. It makes some kind of sense. Rational. We just don't know him."
  Geth stared up at the bloody skies with his eyepiece extinguished. A massive humanoid creature with an elongated metal head, light black armor covering the sternum, shoulders, partially legs, three-fingered hands resembling Turian ones. Geth's flesh was dark, almost black, as if twisted from tourniquets and pseudo-muscles, faintly glowing with bluish lights, which slowly but surely went out.
  "An interesting creature." I stood up abruptly. "Let's check out the research camp. And try not to expose yourself."
  The fighters nodded.
  A well-trodden path led to the camp, winding along the very edge of a steep rocky hill. It's wide enough to walk comfortably, but not wide enough for even a small military vehicle to pass through. The path wound between hefty boulders, hiding the town ahead.
  Unlike the game world, the camp turned out to be quite large: about a dozen modular buildings, a small warehouse, and a flyer area, now littered with bodies and bristling with a palisade of Geth stakes. Some of the train houses were smoking greasy smoke, in some places the flames of a dying fire were still visible, charred bodies of humans and Geth lay on the ground in the craters of the explosions. A small military truck was burning down peacefully at the edge of the road to the spaceport.
  A soft rustle sounded in the silence. Kayden flinched and spun around.
  "Fuck! What is it?"
  I turned around, peeking out from behind the stone. As I watched, the spikes folded, retracting into the support, and the body, which had previously hung limply on the stake, convulsively moved.
  "It's a husk!" Ashley whispered, raising the shotgun.
  I confess, I was shamefully confused! This creature looked like a dead zombie raised by a half-educated necromancer! The shrunken skin split, exposing bluish muscles intertwined with strange growths, blue lights of implants and metal parts glittered through the altered flesh, glowing eyepieces instead of eyes. It's creepy!
  "That's the answer."
  "He's still alive!"
  "Kayden! Turn on your brain and open your eyes! Where did you see a Human there?!" I couldn't resist cursing. "Look at what they look like! SHOOT!"
  The short-lived battle with the Huskies has put the last points in the situation on Eden Prime. Now even the stubborn Alenko did not ask stupid questions, looking at the bodies hanging on pins. His attempt to shoot them was stopped by a short phrase:
  "They're already dead, Kayden. It's useless to shoot until the transformation is over."
  The man lowered his head, nodded briefly. Ashley wasted no time searching the remaining houses.
  "Captain! The security system is enabled here!"
  The fighter waved her hand, pointing to one of the surviving modular buildings.
  Pick the lock. The woman nodded, bent over the lock plate, and I noticed the golden sheen of the instrument. The lock gave up quickly, with a slightly muffled squeak. The doors opened.
  "Captain, there are survivors!"
  "What?" I blinked in surprise. I'd happily forgotten about that.
  Two scientists, a man and a woman, huddled fearfully in a dark room. People sincerely thanked us, glancing fearfully at the street, which was slowly being flooded by the coming darkness. It will be dark soon.
  "I know you! You're Dr. Warren!" Ashley roused herself. "You led the research!"
  The woman nodded. Tall, thin, with short dark red hair, she was perfectly in control of herself, unlike the hysterically terrified man huddled against the wall.
  "What happened to the lighthouse?" I asked.
  "He was transferred to the spaceport yesterday. We stayed behind to help break up the camp."
  The woman sobbed, but quickly pulled herself together.
  "Excuse me."
  "What can you tell us?"
  The scientists could tell us a little. A strange ship in the sky, an unexpected attack, the death of the soldiers protecting them, huskies. A small End of the World in a separate world.
  Dr. Manuel was whimpering softly, huddled against the wall, staring at me with a half-crazed look. The poor guy's world cracked and couldn't come together. Ashley squinted at the man sympathetically, Alenko - disgustedly. But in vain. Crazy people sometimes see a lot more... Insanity has not made them blind and deaf, nor has it reduced their mental acuity and powers of observation.
  "Tell me, have you seen a Turian here?" I asked cautiously.
  "I saw him!" The man suddenly said with fanaticism in his voice. "He's a Prophet! Leading our enemies into battle! He was here before they attacked!"
  Kayden and I exchanged glances. Either I don't understand something, or this psycho saw Saren. How interesting!
  "It's impossible! Naylus was with us aboard the Normandy!" Kayden was quite reasonably indignant. "He couldn't have attacked!"
  Dr. Warren looked confused.
  "Oh, I'm sorry! Manuel is a little bit... His not himself." The woman said guiltily. "We didn't see the Turian."
  "Perhaps YOU haven't seen it." I caught Manuel's eye. "Doctor, tell me, did you really see a Turian?"
  "Yes! A prophet in white armor! I saw him!"
  "But..." - Kayden blinked in surprise. "Naylus has black armor."
  "Apparently, he's not the only Turian on this planet." I said grimly, turning on the comm. "Naylus?"
  "Shepard?" - the answer came immediately.
  "We found the survivors in the research camp. Dr. Manuel says he saw a Turian in white armor. BEFORE the Geth attack."
  The short pause dragged on. I didn't say anything. Naylus is a smart guy. He'll understand.
  "I understood."
  The connection is gone.
  "Doctor, you'd better stay here. The area is cleared and practically safe." I took the shotgun off my belt and handed it to the woman. "Take it just in case."
  The Doctor nodded.
  "Ashley, take us to the spaceport."
  After saying goodbye to the scientists, we left the cabin. The lock turned purple, switching back to the "locked" position.
  "Shepard, do you really believe this madman?" Kayden asked quietly.
  I slowed down a bit.
  "Remember, Alenko. Madmen look at the world in a slightly different way." They may interpret familiar things and events strangely, but they almost never lie. Lying is the prerogative of logic. I believe that Manuel really saw the Turian. Ashley, where should I go?"
  "Here. It's very close here!"
  We passed only a couple of Geth and Hask along the way, and through the trees we saw the buildings of a small spaceport and the huge Reaper looming over a tiny shuttle. Alenko swore under his breath, staring at the huge ship.
  "What the hell is this?"
  "The ship, vestimo." I said ironically, looking at the Reaper wrapped in scarlet lightning.
  A single shot rang out in the distance. What? Really... Did Naylus expose himself after all? Damn it! The launching Sovereign hummed and howled, blotting out the sky with its massive bulk.
  "Faster!"
  The Sovereign folded his paws and disappeared into the bloody sky, and we ran down to the spaceport.
  "Kayden, look around the houses. Ashley, cover him."
  "Captain!"
  "NOW!"
  "Yes, ma'am."
  Throwing a grenade at the rising husk, I shot the geth who emerged from behind the box, flying out onto the spaceport platform. Quick inspection. The assault rifle in his hands fired a short burst, cutting off two synthetics. A grenade exploded somewhere to the side. I turned behind a massive container and gasped for air.
  On the light gray slab of the runway, Naylus lay in a pool of blue blood.
  Chapter 3: Eden Prime: The Aftermath
  "Naylus! Damn it!"
  I ran up to the Turian. The SPECTR, to my great relief, was still alive. Hoarse, gurgling breath foamed bloody bubbles at the corners of his mouth, and his chest was torn open by a shot from a powerful rifle at almost point-blank range and resembled a mess of flesh, blue blood, and fragments of black armor. But at least not in the back of the head... It would have blown half his head off right away.
  The flaps of the armor gave way, and I carefully removed the cuirass, revealing an ugly wound and a blood-soaked jumpsuit. I tore the first-aid kit from my belt and yanked the panacelin syringe out of its socket, injecting the miracle drug into his neck and a second injection into his chest between the twisted chitin plates.
  "Shepard calling Normandy!" I turned on the transmitter and yelled.
  The answer came quickly:
  "Shepard, this is Moro."
  "The Joker! I don't care HOW you do it, but in five minutes, Naylus SHOULD be in the Normandy Infirmary! Do you understand me?"
   The pilot seemed to get fucked up by my tone and the essence of the claim, as the answer, spoken in a hoarse voice, expressed all shades of deep amazement:
  "Roger that, Shepard."
  "Five minutes, Moro! And not a second longer, otherwise I will wring the neck of whoever is responsible for the delay!"
  There was a clatter of footsteps. I raised my rifle. Ashley and Alenko appeared from behind the container.
  "Explore the port and train station!"
  The fighters ran away. I hope they can handle the Geth without my help. Or what is it, really? Kayden's help is zero on the way out, just problems. It's like being with a child, literally... then he pokes his nose where it shouldn't be, that he catches a shot and stands looking at the guilty face of the shitting cat...
  -Shep-par-rd...
  The Turian's low, croaking voice was barely audible over the roar of gunfire.
  "Naylus..."
  "This... this..." The SPECTR choked on blood and coughed heavily.
  "I know. This is Saren. Now, please be quiet! Then you'll explain HOW you caught that shot."
  The fucking look of eyes clouded with pain will warm my dark soul at night for a long time! Such amazement! Such emotions!
  I didn't leave the side of the dying Turian, keeping an eye on the surroundings. Gunshots and the buzzing pops of biotics could be heard at the train station as the fighters destroyed the Geth. As far as I remember, there aren't many of them, so we should be able to handle it. Soon the gunshots died down and Ashley reported:
  "Clear!"
  "Are you okay?"
   "Yes, Captain."
  "Take up the defense on the train. I'll join you soon."
  I don't know exactly what the Joker did or what he said to Captain Anderson, but just three minutes later, the graceful silhouette of the Normandy appeared in the sky. I watched closely as Naylus was placed on a stretcher and carried away to the ship, and for a long time I will not be able to forget the gaze of those green eyes. Or rather, what I saw in those eyes. A powerful mix of guilt, disappointment, pain betrayal, and gratitude. Well, Naylus, just try to die now! I have huge plans for you! For some reason, I am sure that this SPECTR will become part of the Normandy team. The concept of "gratitude" is not an empty phrase for Naylus. As well as "revenge".
  The frigate disappeared into the sunset sky, returning to the safety of low orbit, and I ran to the fighters of the landing group. If my sclerosis doesn't let me down, bombs, a bunch of Geth, and a lighthouse are waiting for me on the other side. Well, and future nightmares, where without them.
  ***
  The train rolled steadily, the engines humming faintly, and I peered at the platform emerging from the twilight. The optics of the rifle already made it possible to see the synthetics involved in installing bombs.
  "Ashley, Kayden, the Geth on the platform. They're doing something with..." I peered at the elongated cylindrical device. "Damn it! They're mining the colony!"
  Kayden flinched.
  "Who can deactivate the An-3 bomb?" I asked a sacramental question, catching Geth in the crosshair.
  A shot, the butt pushed into the shoulder. The Geth collapsed to the floor, visibly sparking.
  "I can." Ashley replied softly.
  Shot, shot. The squeak of an overheated weapon.
  "Kayden, cover up."
  The rifle cooled down, to catch the creature in sight, a shot. The train was slowing down, automatically braking between the platforms. The Geth became animated, and bright lines of queues stretched in our direction, clearly visible at dusk. There it is, a muzzle sticking out over the box and invitingly shining a flashlight at me! A blue light touched the tip of the sight, a shot. The flashlight was gone.
  Ashley and Kayden rolled off the train platform. The first bomb was practically under their feet. The woman bent down, and the uni-tool lit up...
  "Shepard, it's three minutes on the timer!"
  "Well, move it!" The rifle poked into my shoulder. "Kayden, check the transition!"
  The man rushed up the stairs.
  "Clear! I see two more!"
  "Faster!"
  The lights on the first bomb went out, and the panel collapsed.
  "The first one is ready!" Ashley, ducking, ran after Alenko, and I noticed movement in the dense shadow of the box.
  There was a brief flash of a flashlight on his muzzle, and a rifle roared loudly under his ear. Geth fell, rolling out from behind the container.
  "I'm disabling the second one!"
  I moved to the other side of the tracks, carefully searching the long platform.
  "The second one is ready!"
  Kayden ran forward, peering behind every crate, behind every support. I moved further away, stopping at the huge spacer. Here, the platform descended by a wide staircase to a loading platform, on which, as far as I know, there should be a lighthouse.
  "The third one is ready! One minute!"
  "Check the platform to the end."
  Kayden darted into the gathering darkness, a moment of silence, and a natural scream.:
  "There's another one!"
  Ashley took off from a low start, like a runner on the finish line, throwing a shotgun on her back. The seconds melted away one by one, the soft squeak of the instrumentron, the agonizing expectation, and finally:
  "Ready!"
  "Ashley, you're doing great." I whispered faintly, exhaling slowly. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my arms were shaking.
  "And if there is more?" Alenko's uncertain voice.
  "We'll find out now."
  The minutes dragged by one after another, but, as expected, there was no explosion. There really were four of them.
  "Damn it!" Ashley's voice cracked. The woman slid to the floor next to me, clutching the shotgun with trembling hands. "I haven't felt this way for a long time!"
  "The hand of Death on your shoulder?"
  The woman shuddered, shivering.
  "Yes... The hand of Death on my shoulder. What an accurate definition..."
  We cleaned up the platform with the lighthouse quickly, but Kayden was shot in the shoulder again and slowly fell into prostration due to excessive use of biotics. There were no Huskies this time, only five Geth. Ashley winced: her right arm was hanging like a whip due to the impact of the geth pulse.
  And the Prothean lighthouse in all its dubious glory: a narrow pylon glowing with a ghostly green light, covered with dim lights.
  "Unbelievable! The current Protean technology!"
  Kayden admired the ancient device, slowly walking around it in a circle. The lighthouse's pylon stood right in the center of the site, flashing green and gold lights and humming softly.
  "How much time has passed, and it's still working."
  "I wonder what he's hiding?" - Alenko crossed the security zone and the beacon was activated.
  A powerful arc of energy passed through the pylon, throwing out a tight beam. Alenko screamed, slowly rising into the air. No matter how much the man resisted, an invisible force persistently dragged him towards the ancient device.
  "ALENKO! Curious idiot!"
  Running, I slammed into this jerk, knocking him out of the beam. The fighter collapsed to the floor, and I felt an invisible grip lift me into the air and pull me towards the lighthouse, which was slowly opening like a flower.
  The visions flashed suddenly, instantly overloading the mind with an abyss of information: coordinates, chronicles, excerpts of recordings and short videos. Blood, war, planets burning in nuclear flames, collapsing cities, armies of beetle-like monsters tearing sentient beings to pieces at various times, fleets of ships dying under the blows of black machines so familiar to me, Reapers descending on the planet. Episodes, excerpts, memories, emotions, feelings of despair, threats and hopelessness, drawings and diagrams, a strange planet... It seemed that my head would simply burst from the endless stream of data being lavishly pressed into my poor brains!
  But finally, my consciousness could not stand it, and I plunged into blessed darkness. One last coherent thought: "Alenko, you moron... I'll kill the cattle as soon as I wake up..."
  ***
  Consciousness returned painfully and slowly, pulling me out of the depths of a bloody nightmare. The information embedded in my poor brain was slowly digested and sorted out, but its volume is such that colorful bloody dreams are guaranteed for me for a month in advance. My fingers were clenching convulsively from the desire to strangle Alenko, even though I knew in my mind that I would have climbed under the lighthouse anyway. But... Damn him! You idiot! With his L2, brains would definitely boil over!
  The medical equipment beeped softly somewhere to the left, the rustle of the doctor's clothes, the tapping of fingers on the keyboard. I slowly opened my eyes. His vision cleared, revealing an agitated and anxious face.
  "Dr. Chakwas..." I croaked.
  "Shepard, you scared me again."
  I slowly propped myself up on my elbows and struggled to sit up.
  "Damn it! It feels like a galactic library has been uploaded to my brain..." I shuddered, cupping my aching temples with my fingers.
  "You have a severe information overload, Captain."
  "Yes, I've already figured it out."
  There was another beep from the left. Turning around, I saw a naked Naylus on the next bed, studded with some tubes, medical devices of unknown purpose, wires and sensors. The Turian looked like a victim of a rabid spinner, wrapped in an untidy cocoon with a pile of strange garbage.
  It's a good thing the doctor can't read my mind... I'm afraid she won't appreciate such a comparison and will be offended.
  "How is he?"
  My gaze involuntarily clung to the huge blue spot that spread across his chest, to the numerous scars, to the swollen cyanotic burn that crossed his right thigh, multiple bruises and abrasions. I didn't understand, was he beaten up? Or did he manage to fight with Saren?
  "The condition is extremely serious." The doctor sighed. "If you had not insisted on immediate hospitalization, he would not have survived."
  That's how... Well, Naylus... If you get better, I'll punch you in the face. For making me so nervous!
  "And in more detail?"
  "The shot was almost point blank. It's a miracle that the fragments didn't hit the heart: several passed almost exactly. The ribs are crushed, the lungs are excised. A little to the left and that's it..."
  "What are the chances?"
  "It's hard for me to say yet. The spectrum has stabilized, but it is still critical."
  "As I understand it, it cannot be transported?"
  "Absolutely."
  "That's great." I struggled to stand up. "Doctor, I would really appreciate it if you would keep me informed."
  The woman smiled knowingly.
  "Of course, Captain."
  "Please don't be so formal." I smiled. "I still have to visit you so many times... Call me Irene."
  "Karin. And that's the only way!"
  The doors of the infirmary opened to admit the captain of the ship.
  "Captain Anderson!"
  "Shepard." The man nodded in greeting. "How are you feeling?"
  "Brains are about to boil." I honestly admitted. "Information overload."
  "A lighthouse?" The captain's gaze grew heavier. "Did he show you something?"
  "Rather, he raped my brain." I grimaced. "Until the information is processed, it is useless. Disparate images."
  "Doctor, what is Captain Shepard's condition?"
  "Physically healthy." Karin frowned.
  "I'm glad to hear that. Shepard, I need to talk to you in private."
  The doctor smiled understandingly and left the infirmary, leaving me alone with my superiors. Anderson, hands clasped behind his back, nervously paced back and forth, occasionally squinting at the barely alive Turian.
  "Captain, I hope you're feeling well."
  Yeah... the incident really threw the man off balance, since he decided to approach the conversation in this way.
  "How to say it. Physically, it's fine. My head is a mess of bloody nightmares, Armageddon, and incomprehensible blueprints."
  "Blueprints?" Anderson froze.
  "Yes. But I can't say what it is. It will take time for the information to be fixed in memory."
  "I hope you won't forget her."
  "I have an excellent memory, Captain." I was genuinely indignant. "I don't forget anything. No matter how much you sometimes want to."
  The man sighed.
  "I won't lie to you. The situation is not the best. Naylus is in critical condition, the Lighthouse has been destroyed, and the Geth have begun an invasion. The Council wants to hear the answers."
  "I'm not going to let the Council pin the destruction of the lighthouse on me!" I said calmly, understanding the background perfectly.
  "I'm not accusing you, Captain!" Anderson shook his head. "It's about Saren. The second Turian."
  "I know. The legendary SPECTR." I chuckled. "Naylus warned me. He was choking on blood, but he was trying to speak. Don't explain the obvious to me. I know what Saren is."
  "I'm glad to hear that."
  We were silent for a while, looking at the Turian lying in a cocoon of medical equipment. The captain's gaze is gloomy. He was well aware of the problems we would have if Nilus didn't survive.
  "Captain."
  Anderson looked up from the ugly wound.
  "Tell me, have you already sent a report to the Citadel?"
  "No." - the steely eyes looked hard.
  "Do not inform us that the SPECTR is in our infirmary and is undergoing treatment. Just write that he got a fatal shot. Not a lie."
  Surprise stabbed at my nerves.
  "What's the point?"
  I grunted, got up, and walked over to the motionless body, gazing intently at the relaxed face.
  "Do you believe in intuition, Captain?" Anderson's gaze was physically boring into my back. "Saren must not find out that his former student managed to survive this shot. If Naylus is taken to the Citadel Hospital, I won't give a dead battery for his life. Let him stay with us."
  The captain was silent, considering my words. Roughly speaking, I suggested that he conceal the information. Important information.
  "There's some truth in what you're saying, Shepard. But do you understand what will happen if he dies?"
  "Nothing will happen." I turned, meeting a hard stare. "A day earlier, a day later..."
  "I understand you, Shepard." - Anderson turned around and went to the exit.
  Already at the door, the captain turned and said:
  "I'll do as you suggested."
  I nodded gratefully.
  "When you are ready, go up to the bridge and order the pilot to dock with the Citadel."
  "Thank you."
  "Don't take too long, Shepard."
  I nodded gratefully. For a moment, the shadow of a smile flashed across Anderson's stern face: the corners of his narrow lips lifted slightly. There was a soft hiss, and the door closed behind the captain.
  I have a couple of minutes until Dr. Chakwas gets back.
  My aura hasn't completed its unfolding yet: it's still a decade away, at least. But there is something that I can do in almost any state and in any world. Or outside of it. It doesn't require any special abilities or rituals, my desire is enough. Basic energy recharge. Of course, now is not the best time, and my condition is far from ideal, but... Shaking my head, I dismissed my doubts. With a wound like that, Naylus is unlikely to survive... then it will be restored... long.
  If it succeeds at all. My finger carefully slipped past the tubes and touched the bloodstain.
  Blood is the moisture of life. The quintessence of it. Blood carries the life force and energy of an intelligent being. It doesn't matter what its composition is, what its biochemistry is. It will work anyway.
  A heavy drop formed on the tip of my finger. I touched my skin, drawing a simple sign. My desire is clearly formed, and the blue blood is instantly absorbed into the skin, leaving behind a barely noticeable blue trail. And one last thing. I know it's going to make me sick until my body adjusts... I know that our biochemistry is incompatible, but... IT'S NECESSARY. A sticky blue drop falls on the tongue. The mark on my hand turns purple, and I stagger from the sudden outflow of energy, barely keeping my balance.
  The door hissed open, admitting Karin to the infirmary. I straightened up and smiled guiltily, watching out of the corner of my eye as the Turian's heartbeat steadied on the screen. That's wonderful.
  Vital energy is almost universal. No wonder it is so appreciated by those who know what it is. It doesn't matter who is the donor and who is the recipient. It doesn't matter what race, gender, or age. With such a recharge, any energy produced by a living organism is suitable. The same treatment by the imposition of hands, a mystical explanation of the lightness of the hands of doctors... all this has only one explanation: voluntary energy replenishment. And if you consciously transform vital energy so that it is best absorbed, losses will be minimal. That's exactly what I did, taking a sample of the recipient's blood. My body is plastic and adapts quickly. The inner layers of the aura have already unfolded, the middle ones partially too. I can already use some of the tricks I learned during my travels. And energy recharge is one of them. And I'll gradually adapt to other biochemistry. It's not for nothing that true metamorphs are so... Be tough. After taking one last look at my debtor, I turned around and left the infirmary. I have about five hours until I'm exhausted and have a terrible allergy.
  Chapter 4: Dr. Chakwas
  When I went up to the bridge and gave the Joker the captain's order to dock with the Citadel, a surprise awaited me: the flight would take eight hours, plus the time it would take to drag through traffic and dock at the station. In other words, the allergy, if it starts, will knock me down on board the Normandy and in no way pass by the attention of Dr. Chakwas.
  I couldn't even imagine how to justify myself to the doctor in this situation. It's funny, but in almost all of my previous incarnations, my first and most loyal ally was a doctor or a murderer.
  Sometimes it's both. Karin is a doctor and doesn't look like a murderer, but Naylus is... No, Naylus doesn't pull either, even though his hands are stained with blood. As I walked around the ship, I thought about the upcoming conversation. Karin is a smart woman. She will be able to understand a lot, especially since she has not been noticed in xenophobia. Such an ally would be very useful to me!
  The more I influence this reality, the more questionable the value of my after-knowledge will be, given that I only remember the beginning of the story well, the key, unchanging points, and the end very vaguely. Moreover, it insanity grew stronger from series to series, and if my sclerosis doesn't let me down, the Forge and Citadel solved all the problems. I know where to find the Forge blueprints. How to use the Citadel, too. The question is different. Can I turn the tide of history? I can. Fortunately, we already have experience. When? I don't know. In any case, there's no point in going after the Mountain right now. It's too early. First, it is necessary to pass the first nodal point. As always, you will have to rely on intuition and common sense to get out. And it is better to do this in the company of loyal friends and allies.
  After wandering around the ship and doing my job, I suddenly realized that I had nothing to occupy myself with, and there were still more than four hours left before entering the repeater. I quickly got tired of pretending to be a restless spirit, and I went to the infirmary to build bridges with Karin and legalize energy supplementation. I feel like I'm going to have to use it a lot, and not just in relation to Naylus.
  ***
  The doors of the infirmary opened obediently, allowing me to enter the darkened room. The Doctor looked up from her work, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
  "Something happened?"
  I walked over and stood next to the woman, meeting her worried gaze.
  "It's hard to say. Karin, do you think it makes sense to believe what I learned from the lighthouse?"
  The doctor put down the datapad.
  "Did you recognize something?"
  "Yes." I approached the only patient, frowning at the fresh bloodstains. "Voluntary energy recharge. It guarantees the survival of a seriously injured patient."
  "Guarantee?" Karin asked in a whisper. Understanding flashed in the gray eyes. "Do you want to try it?"
  "Why not? The action is elementary, and if it weren't for his biochemistry, I would have already done it."
  "What is the problem?"
  "My possible allergy." I shrugged my shoulders.
  "What is the risk?"
  That's what I like about Dr. Chakwas, it's the lack of habit of asking dumb questions. Of course, since I came here, I had time to think about this adventure and decided to carry it out.
  "A few drops of blood won't do anything to me." I waved it off. "In the worst case, I'll get a rash. The outflow of vital energy is small, and no missions are expected in the next couple of days."
  "Do you need my supervision?"
  "It wouldn't hurt. You are a military doctor with a lot of experience. I want you to be aware of my experiments." I met Karin's attentive gaze and sighed. "You understand as well as he do how much we need this SPECTR. Alive. If it is possible to minimize the risk... I'll bring him together."
  "You're so sure about this one... recharge?"
  For a moment, I was confused. To say an unequivocal and categorical "yes" is to raise doubts. At least in their ability to sensibly assess the world around them. Giving away doubts or lying is even worse.
  "Do you believe in intuition, Karin?"
  The Doctor nodded slowly.
  "It's like an epiphany. Understanding that this is IT! That's what you need right now. I chuckled. Strange words for a military Human, but I've gotten too used to trusting my gut. It has saved my life too many times."
  "Is there a risk for the patient?"
  The doctor made a decision. I guess she's just as adventurous as I am. However, what do I expect from a military doctor?
  "None."
  "Get started."
  Karin, I adore you already! The decision was made without unnecessary snot and slander. However, the suspicious gleam in his gray eyes suggested that the doctor was no stranger to questionable experiments. Just like me.
  The ritual I'm about to perform will allow me to keep in touch with the Turian even after his recovery. Sometimes such an attachment allowed them to literally pull you out of the other world and gave both sides a clear feeling whether the intelligent person connected with you was alive or not. Dipping my finger in the blue blood, I traced a complicated symbol on Naylus stomach. It's an anchor. Chaos alone knows how these signs work! But they work, and that's all I need. In an amicable way, it should be placed above the core of the body, but according to the law of meanness, this place was occupied by an ugly wound.
  The second intricate angular symbol was placed on the inside of my palm on top of the one already applied earlier and on the solar plexus, where the energy core of the body is located. The signs were instantly absorbed into the skin with a peculiar blue tattoo. The full ritual involved putting similar signs with an anchor on me, but I didn't do that. I'm a tenacious creature, regeneration has already started working, so I won't die so easily.
  The doctor watched my manipulations with interest and a degree of skepticism. Until the blood is absorbed into the skin. Both mine and the small chitinous plates on the Turian's stomach.
  "Is it working?"
  "We'll find out now." I replied softly, licking my finger, which was liberally smeared in blue blood, under the doctor's warning cry, and began to transfer energy.
  The symbol glowed slightly with a dim blue light, so similar to the radiance of biotics, and the equipment beeped perplexedly, registering changes in the patient's body.
  The doctor bent over the instruments.
  "What's up, Karin?"
  "It's amazing!" - sincere surprise and admiration in the doctor's voice. "The action is similar to a regeneration capsule! Even panacelin does not give such a strong reaction!"
  "So this stuff helped?" I asked with interest.
  "Absolutely!" Karin looked up from her instruments. "Let's check you out now, Shepard."
  Pressing the sensor to my skin just at the spot where the symbol was blue, the doctor engaged in high-tech shamanism, using laboratory equipment instead of a tambourine. At least for me, her actions were at about the same level of understanding. While Karin was busy with the tests, I sat on the bed and looked at the first victim of my intervention.
  By all the laws of this world, regardless of the possible and acceptable options, Naylus had to die. His death is a key factor in the Eden Prime incident, as is my exposure to the Lighthouse, and they are extremely reluctant to change. Reality always resists, trying to bring events back to normal, and instead of a fatal shot in the back of the head, Naylus got an equally fatal shot in the chest, even though he was trying to escape his fate. It was only my direct intervention that prevented him from bleeding out and dying on Eden Prime. His death affects the chain of events with my obtaining the status of a SPECTRUM and the search for evidence of Saren's betrayal. Until I get through this chain, any attempt I make to introduce Naylus into events that he can influence is guaranteed murder. I've seen this before, and I don't want to see a series of fatal accidents again. Therefore, the Turian will not leave the Normandy until I receive Spectr status and leave the Citadel on business. Then it will be possible to please the Council with news about the survival of this individual. The key point will be passed, and Naylus further actions will follow the same article as mine.
  "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.
  "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?"
  The doctor nervously rubbed her hands, looking hungrily at the Turian.
  "Commander..."
  "Michelle." I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, drawing the frightened woman's attention. "You don't have to worry about their master anymore. It's a Fist, isn't it?"
  Chloe nodded.
  Irene promised her that after their visit to this undoubtedly colorful person, he would not bother her anymore.
  I didn't lie. After my visit, I'm afraid there will be no one to bother. So Michelle really doesn't need to worry about the attention from this asshole anymore.
  "He didn't want me to mention the Quarian." The doctor said quietly but confidently.
  "Dr. Michel." Garrus's rumbling voice was deliciously soothing, like a purring cat. "Tell me what happened."
  Michelle sighed, hugging herself and slowly walked over to the large viewing window.
  "A few days ago, a Quarian woman came to my office. She was shot at. With polonium bullets." The doctor turned around. "She didn't say who did it. It was obvious that she was very scared. Probably on the run."
  Garrus and I exchanged glances.
  "She asked me about the Shadow Broker."
  Garrus started, but I wiggled my fingers a little, telling him to be quiet and not confuse the doctor. The guy nodded slowly.
  "She wanted to get asylum in exchange for information." Michelle didn't notice our silent negotiations, walking back and forth. "I gave her a Fist contact. He works for a Shadow Broker."
  "Not anymore." Garrus said sharply.
  Michelle blinked in surprise.
  "Has Fist betrayed the Grey Broker?" There is an abyss of amazement and disbelief in the voice. "It's stupid even for him!"
  I couldn't agree more. The influence of the Shadow Broker is enormous. And Fist would have figured it out quickly. If he hadn't crossed our path.
  "This Quarian has something." Garrus purred thoughtfully. "Something to betray the Shadow Broker for."
  "Perhaps this information will help prove the betrayal..." I met Garrus' gaze, burning with understanding and excitement. "Did the Quarian say anything about Saren's Spectr? Or about the Geth?"
  "Spoke." Michelle stopped abruptly, interrupting her nervous running in a circle. "Something about the Geth. The information she was going to sell was related to them."
  "So it's time to visit Fist." I purred, meeting the bright lith blue eyes burning with anticipation.
  And Garrus is an adventurer! As if he decided to confirm my conclusions, he gave me this miracle:
  "This is your investigation, Shepard. But I want proof as much as you do! I..." The Turian stammered, not knowing how best to offer his help.
  He was rejected too often. Grinning, I looked into those expressive lith blue eyes and just said:
  "Join us."
  I don't like it when such strong-minded beings humiliate themselves with requests. Garrus nodded gratefully.
  "Shepard."
  "Mm" I looked at the guy questioningly.
  "We're not the only ones who need a fist. The Shadow Broker hired a Krogan named Rex."
  "The liquidator?"
  In response, a short nod.
  "So we have to hurry."
  "Rex is currently at the C-sec Academy." said the Turian. "Fist filed a complaint that he had threatened him. And we detained him."
  "That means he's going to be stuck there for a while. But still, it's worth a hurry."
  The distant corpse had a butt sticking out over its shoulder, and damn if it wasn't a sniper rifle. Stepping over the body, I jerked the corpse over. Precisely! After removing the weapon, I wiped the blood and pieces of brain off it, critically examined it, and tossed it to Garrus. The guy caught it reflexively and stared at me in surprise, blinking his eyes questioningly.
  "You're a natural sniper."
  The expression on his face caused an uncontrollable attack of emotion! Childish surprise and no less childish joy from an unexpected gift, gratitude and excitement. And HOW he held that weapon in his hands! Like a treasure!
  "Shall we go?"
  A dozen grenades slipped into his pocket and disappeared into his shapeless military trousers, as if they had never been there. A moment later, three packages of panacelin fell into the same place. Garrus watched my marauder with interest, but without surprise or disgust. I pulled out the drugs from the second corpse and tossed the package to the Turian. Garrus caught it, the medicine dissolved somewhere in the bins of his armor.
  
  "Bark's Kora." It was here that Garrus dragged me in search of Fist. However, it makes sense, because this bar belonged to a not entirely reasonable person we were looking for.
  The Lair was greeted with a roar of music, conversations, shouts and cursing. The place was working as expected. The sensible ones were boozing and staring at the half-naked Azari strippers, someone was cleaning someone's face in the corner, in separate booths, cute Azari were writhing in a sensual dance on small catwalks. A high-tech but banal strip bar.
  Garrus cut through the crowd like an icebreaker. Men of different races swore and were indignant, but they did not dare to cross the path of the evil Turian in armor. There were bouncers at the doors to Fist's private quarters: a Krogan and a human.
  "Where are you going, Turian! This is private property!"
  There was an undisguised threat in the Krogan's deep, booming voice. I came up from the side, smiled affectionately and showed my hands, showing that I was unarmed and put my palm on the massive shell, tickling the delicate skin with my fingers. The Krogan was freaking out.
  "Well, why so rude?" Suddenly, a grenade clenched in my fist beeped in my hands, getting into combat mode. The Krogan was petrified. A small metal disk slid easily behind his collar. "Oh, I'm so clumsy... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... You have thirty seconds, handsome." my purring voice sounded surprisingly loud. You can start dancing a striptease. With a spark and an explosion... emotions. I've always dreamed of watching it.
  The Krogan shied away from me, quickly disappearing into a small room. I smiled no less affectionately at the second bodyguard.
  "Mmm... Handsome, are you sure you want my attention?" The disk of an assault grenade flashed between his fingers.
  "She's not normal..." The mercenary muttered.
  "I love you too." My leering grin seemed to contrast too much with my kind-kind voice...
  The indicator on the door blinked and changed to green. The doors opened and we went into a small hallway.
  Garrus was silent, looking at me strangely.
  "Is something wrong, Garrus?"
  "It was... suddenly." The guy gurgled softly.
  "But I didn't have to kill those assholes."
  There was a muffled explosion somewhere nearby. I grinned at him.
  "I hope the adorable Krogan can undress quickly. If not..." I spread my hands. "The sadness. Okay, we're joking and that's enough. Is the fist there?"
  I nodded at the door.
  "Yes." Garrus intercepted the sniper.
  "Come on, let's go. And try not to expose yourself." To the questioning look in her lith blue eyes, I said: "Rumor has it that Fist has a pair of turrets."
  Garrus blinked, but took note of the information.
  
  That asshole really had turrets! When the hatches in the floor opened, and I saw two tripods rising with the muzzle still lowered, the grenades seemed to fly out of my hands by themselves. Demolition! One turret sparked, skewed and fell, but the second one was cocked...
  A sniper rifle shot rang out nearby. The turret swayed. The second shot! A heavy bullet shattered something in the bowels of the deadly machine, it sparked, smoke billowed, and the turret shorted out completely. And a panicked voice came from the room:
  "Wait! Don't kill me! I give up!"
  That brute! I spat on the floor. Garrus growled in frustration, but he didn't lower his rifle. Under his cover, I slowly entered the room, holding a massive man in light black armor at gunpoint. Fist twitched. I fired reflexively. The blue shield film did not appear, Fist howled, crouching on his shot leg.
  "I need information." I said calmly, aiming the gun at the pussy-faced brute. "Tell me where the Quarian is, and then maybe I'll stop shooting you in the foot."
  The rifle in my hands jerked, Fist screamed.
  "What are you doing?!"
  "You're healthy. You legs are long, and I've had a hard day. Speak!"
  "She's not here!"
  "I can see that." The gentle tone was replaced by steel.
  "I do not know where she is! I'm telling the truth!"
  The rifle jerked again, shooting through his left leg.
  "You're lying." I said softly. "You have another leg. It's still intact. You have three seconds.
  Garrus came over and looked at Fist lying in the blood with an indifferent look. The long muzzle of the sniper rifle was pointing straight at the man's forehead. And now this jerk realized that the jokes were over. And he began to speak, choking on the words:
  "She's not here! She said she would only talk to the Shadow Broker! PERSONALLY!"
  "It's impossible. The Shadow Broker only works through agents." Garrus cut it off, and I was amazed at how cold and raspy his voice had become.
  Fist wrapped his arms around his injured leg, trying to stop the bleeding. I dropped the panacelin syringe in front of him. Let him be happy. He grabbed the package, tore it open, and stuck it right into the bullet hole in the armor.
  "No one meets with a Shadow Broker. Never! Even I do not know who he is! But the Quarian didn't know that. I said I would arrange a meeting.
  What a brute! I exchanged glances with Garrus. His blue eyes were dark with anger and blazed with rage.
  "Farther."
  "They'll be waiting for her there."
  "Where?"
  Fist faltered. I waited for exactly one second, after which I kicked the wounded limb heartily. The man howled.
  "The place! Where?"
  "Here! In residential sectors!" Fist croaked. "The alley behind the markets!"
  "When?"
  "Now!" Fist grinned. "If you hurry, you might make it."
  I raised the rifle.
  "I promised Michelle that you would never bother her again."
  "What... NO!"
  The rifle roared hollowly, hitting me in the shoulder with the recoil. The bullets shattered his head, instantly turning his fear-stricken face into a bloody mess.
  "Too many sentients have died because of you for you to live."
  Lowering the rifle, I turned to Garrus. The Turian looked calmly, with a degree of academic interest, looking from the dead body to me and back again.
  "Don't you approve?" I raised an eyebrow.
  The rifle in his hands folded up and went into a non-combat position.
  "It was... the best solution to the Fist problem."
  "I'm glad you understand." I smiled. "Sometimes only death can bring you to reason. Come on, Garrus, or we'll be late for the meeting between the Quarian and Saren's envoys."
  The name of the Spectr had a miraculous effect! Vakarian roused himself, nodded, and walked forward. To my lazy objections, the Turian quite rightly pointed out that he was the only one wearing armor. I didn't argue.
  As I was leaving the bar, I noticed the Krogan bouncer. A burly mercenary was treating his nerves with some kind of brown mutter at the bar, and inexcusably negligently turned his back on me. I couldn't miss such an invitation!
  His wrinkled and slightly singed face fell sharply when the Krogan, who was gawking, heard a sacramental message in his ear:
  "Handsome!" and the quiet squeak of a grenade being cocked. "You undressed so fast that I don't even know..." My fingers caressed the neck of the numb Krogan. "Is ten seconds enough for you this time?"
  The Krogan choked on his drink, and the cold disk slipped out of my fingers and down his neck. I watched with a smile as the terrified, burly Krogan frantically pulled off his combat jacket. The grenade slipped out of his sleeve and fell to the floor. Inactive.
  "A keepsake! Don't forget me, handsome!" Blowing a kiss to the stupefied bouncer, I grabbed the numb Garrus by the elbow and dragged him out of the bar.
  Chapter 7: Evidence
  "Garrus!"
  I shook the still-astral Turian by the shoulder. The ligth blue eyes blinked.
  "Don't take some of my actions so personally." the guy blinked, his eyes finally focused.
  "It was... cruelly."
  I shrugged my shoulders. It was cruel the first time. But there was plenty of time on the grenade, so he would have had time to undress. Well, the second one... maybe this case will teach him not to click his beak." I caught his apprehensive gaze and smiled. "Garrus, with your own... I don't joke with friends like that. And with colleagues too. Almost."
  There was a look... strange. I don't know what he's up to, but I hope he doesn't give up on the idea of becoming a member of my team. And by the way...
  "Lead the way. I don't focus on the Citadel at all."
  The Turian nodded and ran down the corridor. I'll follow him.
  How he found his way through these absolutely identical corridors is a mystery shrouded in darkness! Ten minutes of fast running, and now we flew into a corridor flooded with reddish light, around the corner of which we heard the rumbling voice of a Turian:
  "Did you bring it?"
  Garrus slid towards the turn, activating his sniper rifle. A moment later, I did too, comfortably settling into a squat. Peeking around the corner, we saw a rather interesting picture: a Quarian and a tall Turian, a little to the side - four, judging by the characteristic shape of the helmet - Batarians.
  "Where is the Shadow Broker?" The Quarian's soft voice sounded a little muffled because of the helmet. "Where's Fist?"
  We exchanged glances. Garrus shifted the rifle more comfortably, and I shifted the submachine gun. The fact that I was squatting at the Turian's feet didn't bother me or him at all. There were no shelters in the corridor. Even the most cluttered crate!
  "They'll be here soon." The Turian reached out and patted the tense Quarian patronizingly on the head, for which he received a slap on the wrist. "Where is the evidence?"
  "No!" The girl took a step back. "The deal is off!"
  And with the girl's next step, Garrus raised his rifle and stepped out from around the corner, crouching at gunpoint. The Batarians drew their weapons, and the Quarian staggered back against the wall.
  Our shots rang out almost simultaneously: a booming one from snipers and dry coughing ones from machine guns. The Turian in black armor collapsed to the floor, and my shots cut down one Batar. A booming shot, and the second one fell to the floor and twitched in agony. Garrus decided to change his habit and shot the idiot in the spine. He's kind! I cut off the two remaining batars in one burst.
  The girl huddled behind a support and looked at us with wide-open eyes, gushing with panic. Garrus put away his rifle, took out his pistol and went to his unfinished victim, and I crouched down next to the frightened Quarian woman and said softly:
  "I am Commander Shepard, Alliance MSF. Garrus Vakarian, officer of the C-sec." As the girl comprehended my words, the fear disappeared, and she relaxed a little.
  "Thanks!"
  "Thank Dr. Michelle." I smiled reassuringly, shifting slightly to block her view of Garrus, who was quickly interrogating the still-alive Batar. "She told me that you were in danger."
  "I..." the girl's voice trailed off as a muffled scream came from behind me. "Fist set me up! He..."
  "Don't worry about him. Fist got what he deserved." A gurgling scream was interrupted by a dry pistol shot.
  The girl shuddered.
  "Apparently, I need to thank you twice."
  Garrus came over and held out his hand, helping the girl to her feet.
  "But why did you come to the doctor?"
  "We're looking for evidence of Saren's Spectre betrayal." Garrus said.
  "In that case, I can repay you for saving my life. I have something that can help you."
  Garrus and I exchanged glances.
  "We need to get out of here. It's not safe here." A rumbling purring voice echoed my thoughts, putting them into words.
  "What about Ambassador Udina's office?" I suggested. "It's safe there. And he's DEFINITELY going to want to see it."
  The girl did not object. Garrus caught my expressive gaze, grinned and walked forward, waving his hand inviting me to follow him. A couple of minutes of winding through the same type of corridors, and here it is happiness - a taxi terminal. We called the flyer and sat down on a bench. Garrus was looking at me with some kind of incomprehensible expression on his face, trying, however, not to stare openly, Tali was nervous. And I was sprawled out on a bench, watching the future members of my crew from under half-closed eyelids. Tali is a kind and open-minded girl, rather guileless and trusting. The result of growing up in a closed environment. Garrus, on the other hand, did not suffer from excessive trust, but he still had not lost his youthful faith in justice and a miracle. It's amazing how a romantic, kind, idealistic guy who sincerely believes in justice and an Archangel, a ruthless, cold-blooded, calculating sniper, so harmoniously combined in one reasonable man.
  An automatic taxi landed silently near the terminal, gurgling a greeting. Garrus perked up, and Tali stopped weaving her six fingers into strange shapes.
  "Let's go and make the ambassador happy." I stretched luxuriously and yawned widely.
  By the time we reached the Presidium, I was already beginning to doze off. Due to information overload, fatigue rolled in much faster, the body demanded sleep and rest. Until all this trouble with the Council is over, if you can sleep, it will be on a bench in the park or in an armchair in the ambassador's office.
  "Commander Shepard, are you all right?"
  The Turian's soft purring voice, tinged with genuine concern, jerked me out of my slumber. The flyer began to slow down and descend, taxiing towards the embassies. Yawning, I rubbed my eyes and blinked.
  "It's okay, Garrus."
  "You look tired." the guy informed me incredulously, staring intently at my face.
  "Communication with the Protean lighthouse affects Eden Prime." The ligth blue eyes widened in shock. "This device seems to have loaded the entire galactic library into my head... It consists of chronicles of the war years, paintings of a high-tech Apocalypse and a bloody massacre. It's like I'm really interested in the details of how those four-eyed, arrogant snobs were killed."
  A Quarian gasped softly next to me, and for the first time I saw the Turian's jaw drop. It's a pretty sight!
  The taxi landed and raised the canopy of the cab, politely inviting us to get out and giving me the opportunity to avoid further questions. But Tali's attentive gaze and Garrus' thoughtful gaze made it clear that these two would not forget my words and would eventually demand answers.
  We walked to the ambassador's office in silence. I was in an elated and even dreamy mood, and my companions were still trying to chew on the news. I must have had a hard time chewing, because when we stumbled into Udine, Garrus and Tali were silent, staring at my back.
  In addition to the irritated Udina, Captain Anderson was in the office. The native authorities raised an eyebrow questioningly, shooting a glance of penetrating gray eyes at the fucked-up aliens, and I nodded in agreement and smiled broadly, contentedly.
  "Commander Shepard," Udina guessed quite correctly who had come to him. "You're making my life difficult." The ambassador's voice sounded irritated and angry. "A shootout in residential areas, the murder of the owner of the "Kora Den"!" The ambassador slowly turned around. "Do you have any idea..." The ambassador finally noticed our interesting company and stopped. "Who's that?"
  Tali and Garrus exchanged glances. Apparently, this was not the reception they had expected.
  "A Quarian? What are you up to, Shepard?!"
  Against the background of the evil ambassador, Anderson, who was happy with his life, looked indecently happy. The captain immediately realized that I had brought a well-known Turian and an unknown Quarian for a reason.
  "The Quarian can help us with Saren." I said sarcastically, watching Garrus's long face out of the corner of my eye, unaccustomed to such insubordination. "If you had let me insert a single word into your monologue, I would have told you about it."
  Well, just the very courtesy! Anderson seems to be starting to get a "haha", Garrus is in a stupor, Tali is puzzled.
  Udina sighed wearily.
  "I'm sorry, Commander. This Saren thing has worn me out." For a moment, I even felt sorry for him, literally! For a VERY small moment!
  "Maybe you could start over, miss..." Udina looked pointedly at Tali.
  The girl nodded graciously and introduced herself:
  "My name is Tali"Zora nar Raya."
  "Quarians don't come here very often." Udina quite reasonably remarked. "Why did you leave the Fleet?"
  "I went on a pilgrimage." The girl just said.
  No one needs to explain what it is. Almost all sentients living in Citadel space were well aware of this lovely tradition of immigrants from the Migrating Fleet and, sometimes, enjoyed using the services of Quarian youngsters.
  "Tell me what you found, Tali." I asked softly.
  The girl nodded, clasping her fingers together.
  "During my journey, I often heard reports of Geth sightings. Since our people were exiled, the Geth have never crossed the borders of the Veil." Tali paced nervously, unconsciously stroking her palm with her fingers. "I became interested and was able to follow one of the Geth patrols."
  Oh! And the girl is an adventurer!
  "I waited until one of the Geth had fallen behind his group and turned it off by removing the memory block."
  We exchanged glances. What a lady! She caught Geth and twisted his head, pulling out his brains. The beauty!
  "I thought that at the moment of Geth's death, his module burns down." Anderson pointed out quite reasonably.
  Tali lowered her nose and hesitated.
  "This is true. Most of the data was destroyed." the nose rose again. "But I was able to pull out some soundtracks."
  With these words, this little miracle rattled on its fancy omny-tool and played us a short recording in which the perfectly recognizable voice of the unforgettable Saren was broadcasting to someone:
  "We won a big victory at Eden Prime! The lighthouse has brought us one step closer to the Canal!"
  And the pathos, the pathos! Hospadi, Saren, have you always been like this, or did the harmful influence of Nazara make your brain swim?
  That's me, the Main Villain of the entire galaxy... on a short leash.
  There was a moment of silence in the office. Intelligent people of different races silently comprehended what was said. I was silent too. Everything I could do, I did. Now it's up to Udina.
  "It's Saren's voice!" The captain whispered.
  "Wait! That's not all!" Tali clicked on the virtual buttons. "He wasn't working alone. Listen up."
  Saren's hoarse, low, vibrating voice rang out again in the silence of the office:
  "We won a big victory at Eden Prime! The lighthouse has brought us one step closer to the Canal!"
  But this time, he got an answer:
  "And he brought the Reapers' return one step closer." The drawling, deep-throated female voice sounded especially sensual and deep against the background of Saren's hoarse, rough voice.
  The recording ended. The golden glow of the active instrumentron disappeared, and the device shut down.
  "I do not know whose voice it is." The ambassador's voice broke the heavy silence. "The one who talks about the Reapers."
  "It's a familiar name." Garrus growled softly.
  Tali answered the unanswered question in the air:
  "According to data from the Geth memory module, the Reapers are a highly advanced race of machines that existed about fifty thousand years ago. The Reapers completely exterminated the Prothean race, after which they disappeared. That's what the Geth think."
  "It sounds like speculation and fairy tales." Udina muttered.
  I could feel the fabric of reality tightening! A burning sense of excitement ran through my nerves, as it always does when I step in and break a frozen story, a shock dose of adrenaline hit my bloodstream, my heart began to beat, my mind cleared, becoming crystal clear and pure. Here it is - my drug, which I got hooked on five more lifetimes ago, and I don't think I'll ever cry!
  "And if I tell you. Is it true?" I asked, watching with interest as the faces stretched out.
  "Commander?"
  "Captain, do you remember that strange ship on Eden Prime? Black, looks like a squid." I asked. During the briefing with Naylus.
  The captain nodded.
  "This is the Reaper." Udina choked, Garrus exhaled in amazement, purred a little, Tali squeaked.
  "Are you sure?" Anderson braced himself like a predator about to throw.
  "Do you know what put into my head what you called a lighthouse, and its creators called an information buoy?" after waiting for a negative swing, I pressed: "The chronicle of death. The demise of the Prothean Empire. A warning. A call for revenge. I've seen such machines descend on populated planets, wreaking death and destruction. However, there were MANY of them. And now the Reaper is alone. I suspect the others are somewhere in hibernation or stasis while this one is watching. There is no concept of a "long wait" for machins."
  "Do you realize that your words are unprovable?" Udina asked.
  "Naturally, I understand." I shrugged my shoulders. "But I'm not going to prove anything to you. I can only warn you and share my knowledge.
  "Is there anything else?" Anderson asked, briefly silencing the ambassador who had opened his mouth.
  "Did you know that the Citadel wasn't built by the Protheans?" I watched with some kind of fanatical pleasure as their faces stretched out. "They found her the same way we did. You know that the repeaters and this station are the product of the sophisticated mind of the Reapers. A kind of trap for civilizations, guaranteeing their development in the right way. The Protheans understood that. They realized it too late." now the FEAR and HORROR of understanding appeared on their faces. "After finding such a miracle... we abandoned our space programs and stopped developing. We are recent, other races were thousands of years ago. Why spend money on research into interstellar flight technologies if everything is already ready? Presented on a platter. Tied with a ribbon and with the attached instruction manual. All modern civilizations are hooked on repeaters, like a drug addict on a dose! We can't do anything without them. And the Reapers won't even have to search for our colonies. Why, if there is such a convenient repeater near EACH one... Do you need to explain what awaits us and what threatens SUCH dependence?
  I looked at the captain and the ambassador with pity, feeling the confused, horrified gaze of Garrus and Tali all over my body. A little later, when they wake up from their stupor, they will be able to find excuses and calm down, convincing themselves that I was wrong. But the worm of doubt will not go anywhere and will gnaw little by little, depriving you of peace and sleep. It's cruel. No, it's monstrously ruthless. But it's true.
  "You may not believe me or convince yourself that the Reapers are just fairy tales and there is no real threat. Your right. There is no proof. But when they appear, it may already be too late."
  I spread my hands.
  "The council won't believe it." Anderson whispered hoarsely.
  "No one will believe it." I waved it off. "Reasonable are too rigid in their judgments and, even more so, in assessing a potential threat. "I guess even Saren doesn't know what he's gotten himself into.
  "Do you justify him?" The ambassador raised an eyebrow in surprise.
  But right now I can't mess up. I don't know what I'm going to do with Saren yet. But in case I need it alive for some reason, the soil needs to be harvested now. Especially since I really wasn't lying. The buoy REALLY unloaded a lot of interesting stuff, and Saren really got under control. How much remains to be seen.
  - Quite a few visions show how the Reapers take control of the sentients. Weak-willed - completely. The strong ones - gradually. It's not for me to tell you how you can subjugate by playing on weaknesses, guilt, revenge, or duty. Add mental control and that's it, the puppet is ready. And she will do all the dirty work for you on her own initiative.
  "Do you think Saren is the Reaper's puppet?" Garrus asked bluntly.
  "I suppose so. Most likely, he himself does not understand this, considering his ship to be something like an ancient artifact-a spaceship with a strange AI."
  "What gave you that idea?"
  "Saren is no fool. A ruthless killer, no doubt. He doesn't like people- completely. But he is not a fool and hardly wants to destroy his own people. Had he been promised that the Turians would not be harmed? Who knows what got him hooked by the Reaper. We won't know until we catch him."
  "Don't you believe in voluntary participation?" Anderson asked with displeasure.
  "I'm sorry, Captain, but... no."
  "Explain?"
  " Saren has ALWAYS been absolutely loyal to the Council." I looked straight into Anderson's eyes. "I took the time to find out about him. The youngest Spectr. He is cruel, completely unappreciative of life, neither his own nor someone else's, fulfilling a task at any cost. Such reasonable people cannot betray just like that. But their loyalty is possible... redirect it. To substitute concepts, to suggest that it would be better this way. And as a result, there is an actual betrayal with thoughts about the need for such an act. There have been examples of this in our history and it was achieved by banal psychology without any mentalism and direct subordination of reason."
  "It doesn't make it any easier for us."
  "Absolutely. But as practice shows, getting rid of... of course, such reasonable people will NEVER forgive deception and will take revenge with all dedication."
  "Shepard!" Udina gasped in amazement, immediately getting into my words. "You're offering it to us..."
  "This is an ideal option, Ambassador, but, unfortunately, unlikely. To what extent my speculations correspond to reality, we still have to find out. But if I'm not mistaken... I will do my best to bring back such a fighter. Saren would never forgive the Reapers for SUCH a deception." Hesitantly, she added: "As well as myself - betrayal."
  The captain didn't say anything. He just stood there and stared thoughtfully through me into the distance he alone knew. Tali was silent. Garrus was thinking hard about something. The ambassador was pacing with his hands behind his back.
  "The council won't like it." Udina's soft, thoughtful voice broke the heavy silence.
  "They might not believe it." Garrus said reasonably.
  "They shouldn't talk about the Reapers. It's too early." The captain nodded in agreement to my words. "You shouldn't try to get everything at once. We are content with a small victory. Proof of Saren's guilt in the attack on Eden Prime."
  "That's right, Commander," Anderson said, crossing his arms over his chest. "These audio files are sufficient evidence of guilt. It's not worth trying for more."
  "I'll inform the Council." Udina drew a line under our conversation.
  "What about Tali?" I asked.
  "Commander! You've seen what I'm capable of!" The girl perked up. "Let me go with you!"
  I exchanged glances with the captain, and Anderson nodded slightly.
  "But what about your Pilgrimage?"
  "The pilgrimage speaks to our desire and willingness to dedicate ourselves to the common good! How can I stay away?" Tali's voice was genuinely puzzled. "Saren and the Reapers are a threat to the entire galaxy! The pilgrimage can wait!"
  "I'll accept any help, Tali."
  "Thanks!" The Quarian's voice trembled with joy. "You won't regret it!"
  The Ambassador sighed.
   "Captain Anderson and I will prepare a message for the Council. We'll give you a couple of hours to rest. Meet me at the Tower."
  The authorities left, and after consulting with each other, we decided to wait in the Tower so that we wouldn't have to rush headlong to the Council meeting.
  The terrifyingly slow elevator lifted us to the right level, having managed to overwhelm all three of us with a disgusting mournful melody. For relaxation, we chose a long bench located slightly away from the main staircase in a nice little corner. They sat down there. However, Tali didn't have enough time for long, and the young Quarian jumped to her feet and nervously cut around the fountain, looming in front of her eyes. Garrus and I sprawled out on a bench, relaxing after a busy and exhausting day.
  Slowly, fatigue, silence, and the soothing murmur of the water took their toll, and I drifted off to sleep. As I was falling asleep, I felt my relaxed body slide smoothly to the side, and my head bumped uncomfortably into something hard. Once I was more comfortable, I switched off, plunging into the already familiar and somewhat familiar bloody nightmare showing me the demise of the Prothean Empire.
  ***
  Councilor Sparatus, hurrying to an unexpected meeting, noticed a strange company even for a multi-species Citadel: a Quarian woman nervously pacing back and forth and a young Turian man he knew well, sitting on a bench, looking at a human girl sleeping soundly on his lap and not knowing where to put his hands.
  Chapter 8: Advice: A Key Decision
  I was woken up by the sound of a digital instrument. Damn it! I slept so well, quietly, calmly, under the unobtrusive murmur of water, and here... Who needs me there? Without opening my eyes, I turned on this dirty trick by touch 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 take your friends with you!"
  "We'll be right there. We're already in the Tower." I grumbled, disconnecting 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. Poor guy... Straightening up, I yawned profusely, rubbed my eyes, frowning at the real world.
  Garrus was silent and pretended to be an organic part of the bench, Tali giggled softly.
  "Tali!"
  At my reproachful look, the girl laughed, and Garrus, if he could, by God, would have blushed or run away. As it was, he just pressed his mandibles to his cheeks and avoided making eye contact with me. No, really, it's lovely!
  "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 fuck? If you don't like it, don't let them watch..." And a little louder: "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 instantly switch off and have bloody nightmares. You know, watching entire civilizations being destroyed..." I shook my head. "I will do everything to prevent this from happening to us."
  Garrus and Tali exchanged glances, but said nothing. And I don't need words.
  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 answer of an unknown.
  "Did you want proof? That's it!"
  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 is irrefutable." Sparatus' low, rasping, rumbling voice struck me as particularly ironic. "Saren is being stripped of his 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 Counselor, Tevos, turned her head to her fellow Turian. "This is Matriarch Benezia."
  We exchanged glances. The matriarch is a strong opponent. Skilled, powerful, deadly. Tevos's sensual voice confirmed these concerns:
  "Matriarch Benezia is a powerful biotic and has many followers. She is a very powerful ally for Saren."
  "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 Council.
  "Commander Shepard," Sparatus turned a demanding gaze on me. "What can YOU tell us?"
  "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 in stasis somewhere in the "dark space", waiting for the Call to come through the Channel open to them and begin the Harvest. Where this "dark space" is 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 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."
  Saren is a traitor. Valern lifted his chin.
  "He has neither the rights nor the capabilities of the Spectr. The Council stripped him of these powers."
  "It's not enough!" Udina jumped up.
  "You know he's hiding somewhere in the Traverse! Send your fleet there!"
  "A fleet cannot attack a single creature." Sparatus said quite sensibly.
  "The Citadel fleet can seal off the entire region. Don't let the Geth attack our colonies!" This could lead to a war with Traverse systems."
  "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.
  "I can stop Saren." I said calmly, meeting the heavy and appraising gaze of the Turian.
  "The Commander is right." Tevos glanced at her colleague. "There is a way to stop Saren without a fleet or armies."
  "Do you think humanity is ready to bear the responsibility of the Spectres?" Sparatus asked, looking at me with some strange interest.
  Wait a minute... And where is the categorical "no"? Sparatus must be against my appointment! Either I don't understand something, or... or I don't know something.
  The Asari exchanged glances with the Salarian and looked questioningly at Sparatus. The Turian didn't think long. A short, confident nod put an end to their discussions. Three intelligent beings with the highest authority in the Citadel Space simultaneously 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 Spectr 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.
  "Spectr"s 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's 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 clashes 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.
  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're sending you to Traverse for Saren. He is a fugitive from justice, and you are authorized to use ALL means to arrest or eliminate him."
  "We will send all available information to Ambassador Udina." the Turian added, interpreting my look quite correctly.
  "The Council meeting is closed." The deep voice of the Asari put an end and marked the end of the meeting. However... As soon as we turned around and headed for the exit, something flew at my back:
  "Spectre Shepard, hold on." The low rumbling voice sounded completely unexpected.
  "Councilor Sparatus?" I stopped and looked questioningly at the Turian.
  "Your doctor's reports say that after contacting the lighthouse, you received a huge amount of information. Is that true?"
  This... My ass! Sparatus was interested. My chuika senses that until this chitinous muzzle squeezes me dry, I will not leave this hall alive.
  "Yes, it is. Information overload is still affecting us. The data from the buoy has not yet been fully realized."
  "A buoy?" the Salarian bastard noticed a slip of the tongue.
  "This is not a lighthouse, but an information buoy. As far as I understood from the diagrams, its purpose is to store information and transfer it into the mind of any reasonable person who has crossed the coverage area. The Protheans built thousands of such devices when their demise became apparent."
  "What schemes do you have in mind?" Tevos was also interested.
  "Blueprints and diagrams pop up in my head during deep sleep. I'm not a technician, and I can't tell you what it is, but when the information is absorbed, I'll transfer everything I see to a medium. Maybe it's something useful. You should understand that I cannot guarantee that there is any real value in these visions.
  The attempt to get off topic failed. The councilors exchanged glances and stared at me like hungry cats at a piece of raw meat. Oh, my God, I suddenly felt so bad! By God, it would be better if they were the same arrogant idiots as in the game. But now I'm facing three smart, cunning, and calculating paranoid politicians who have just been shown something interesting and potentially useful.
  "What else do you see in your dreams?" Sparatus asked without a trace of humor or irony, glaring at me intently. Military chronicles. The massacre. Hefty bug-like creatures tearing sentient ones to pieces. Fleet battles with ships very similar to the one we saw on Eden Prime. Seeing the understandable question on Asari's face, I kindly informed:
  "The fleets were losing. Always."
  "What else?" Sparatus, the brute, clung like a vorloon to the victim! Okay, if that's what you want, listen up. Maybe you won't believe it and you'll leave me alone.
  "The citadel. Relays. Exactly the same as now." To my quiet horror and panic, the advisers only exchanged knowing glances, and I felt a chill. Do they really KNOW?
  "Recent excavations and research have shown that the Citadel... much older than we thought before." Azari's soft and gentle voice seemed to me like the sounds of a harbinger of Doomsday. "Was there anything in your visions that would confirm this?"
  They must have read the answer in my face. The Salarian's attempt to say something was cut short by a thin azure palm raised in an international call for silence.
  "Tell us."
  "The Protheans didn't build a Citadel or relays." I answered dully, closing my eyes. "There is a whole series of visions that are similar to the old military chronicle. There are very specific markings on the image. They show how the Citadel was opened." Looking up, I met the Asari's attentive gaze. "I saw an ABANDONED and EMPTY Citadel, in which there were only Keepers."
  I wasn't lying here: there really were such visions. Only three. But they were enough. Your words confirm some of our findings in remote, previously inaccessible areas.
  "Do you believe me?" I asked in surprise.
  "We've already dismissed your words once." Sparatus frowned. "You have provided evidence. We don't want to make the same mistake now. From this day on, you are the Spectr. We believe and trust the Spectr's. I see no reason why we should make an exception in your case." The Turian's creepy smile was unexpectedly reassuring. "You have been so persistent in seeking justice. We were impressed."
  "I will do my best to justify THAT trust." Sparatus inclined his head in satisfaction.
  "In that case, please explain one thing to us."
  "Everything in my power."
  "After carefully checking all available information, we have not found where the body of your colleague, Naylus, has gone." The Turian's gaze froze.
  The slippers have sailed to the waterfall! And what should I do?
  The brief panic had passed. Basically, the chain of events ended, and I got the title of Spectr the way I should have. It's already possible to tell the truth.
  "As far as I know, he's still in the infirmary."
  The councillors exchanged glances.
  "IN THE INFIRMARY?" Sparatus asked softly. "Why not at the morgue?"
  Sighing, I calmly said:
  "Because Naylus survived. We managed to save his life.
  Silence fell like a stone slab in the huge hall. The councilors exchanged glances, Sparatus gripped the thin railing with such force that the sturdy metal creaked.
  "Please explain."
  "We found survivors on Eden Prime. Dr. Warren and Dr. Mikael. Due to recent events, Dr. Mikael is slightly... He lost his mind. Perhaps this is enough to not take his words seriously, but I have been told more than once that madmen have not lost their hearing, nor the sharpness of their eyes and mind. They just perceive reality a little differently. The doctor said he saw a Turian in white armor." I turned on the drone and played the recording I made on a whim.
  A shrill, awe-inspiring voice filled the huge hall.:
  "I saw him! He is a Prophet! Leading our enemies into battle! He was here before they attacked!"
  The councillors exchanged glances.
  "I felt it necessary to warn Nailus, because even before landing, I had bad premonitions and a sense of loss. I used to trust my intuition."
  "Go on."
  "Already approaching the spaceport, I heard a single shot, and already on the spot we found the body of Nilus lying in a pool of blood with his chest ripped open. Have you seen the pictures?"
  Sparatus nodded.
  "The wound was fatal" I insisted on immediate hospitalization, and literally five to seven minutes later he was in the Normandy infirmary and is still there."
  "Why did you hide this information?" Tevos asked softly.
  "Saren." I replied simply. "We knew you wouldn't believe us. We knew that we had nothing with which to prove his betrayal. If you had known about Niall's condition, he would have been transferred to the Citadel Hospital. And nothing would stop Saren from finishing what he started. We were quite reasonably afraid for his life."
  Sparatus and Tevos exchanged glances.
  "Really. Such an outcome was possible."
  "I would ask you not to take Nayllus away from the ship's infirmary. Dr. Chakwas categorically forbids its transportation. The condition of the Spectr has just stabilized and is still extremely severe. We have the most modern military hospital. Dr. Chakwas is a doctor with vast experience and knows perfectly well how to treat such wounds. There are no other patients, and all the capacities and capabilities of our infirmary are focused on the treatment of Nailus."
  "Is the doctor on the ship now?"
  "The doctor has now barricaded herself in the infirmary to avoid." I grumbled.
  Sparatus suddenly chuckled.
  "Even so."
  I shrugged my shoulders.
   "I was the commander of the landing party. Even though Naylus-Specter didn't obey me, I still feel responsible for his life. As well as for the life of any reasonable person who stands next to me. Captain Anderson complied with my request."
  Sparatus' contented face aroused quite legitimate suspicions and concerns. The Asari was smiling slyly, and the Salarian was frowning.
  "We recognize your actions as legitimate and justified, Irene Shepard Spectr. Spectrum Nilus will remain on board the Normandy under your responsibility."
  "Thank you, Counselor."
  "If you find out anything else about the Reapers, Saren, or the Citadel, notify us immediately." Asari's sensual voice made me strongly associate it with the siren song. "If there is even the slightest risk of repeating the fate of the Protheans, he must be eliminated. We cannot ignore SUCH a threat!"
  I bowed my head.
  "As soon as there are real confirmations, I will notify you immediately."
  "You can be free, Spectr."
  Sparatus' voice was full of irony and satisfaction from a successful hunt. Bowing briefly, I walked stiffly out of the Council Chamber. Irene was ready to fail if she didn't hear a soft purring laugh!
  ***
  The Ambassador and Captain Anderson were waiting for me at the elevator. There was no sign of Tali or Garrus on the horizon. Approaching the satisfied men, I asked a sacramental question.:
  "And where?" I didn't want to lose only my newly acquired partners.
  "They said they would be waiting for you at the Nagira bar if you would like to join them." Anderson replied, chuckling. "Congratulations, Spectr."
  "Thank you." It's worth visiting them.
  "We have a lot to do." - Udina was boring, and for the first time I wanted to punch him in the teeth, but I restrained myself. "You will need a ship, crew, and equipment."
  "You have gained access to special equipment and weapons." the captain added. "At the C-sec Academy, contact the quartermaster."
  "I'll come in." I nodded in agreement, considering how I should lighten the Citadel's warehouses. Anderson grinned, quite correctly understanding my dreamy look.
  "We have important news for you, Shepard." Udina exchanged glances with Anderson, and the captain nodded in agreement. Captain Anderson resigned his command of the frigate Normandy. The ship is yours now."
  I blinked in surprise and looked at the captain, who looked incredibly pleased with something. Anderson nodded in agreement.
  "The Normandy is fast and quiet, and you know the crew well. The perfect ship for the Spectrum. Take care of him, Captain."
  "This is your ship, Captain!"
  Anderson chuckled.
  "Don't worry about me so much. They'll give me another ship."
  "But..."
  "You need your own ship. I appreciate your concern for me, Shepard, but it's completely unfounded."
  "Thank you, Captain."
  "Now go and get some rest, Shepard. You've done the impossible today. All information provided to us by the Council will be waiting for you at your terminal."
  Saying goodbye in a crumpled manner, I flew to the taxi terminal and chose Nagira. I didn't intend to lose sight of Garrus and Tali.
  ***
  The bar greeted me with a roar of music and light noise. Pushing my way through the crowd at the entrance, I quickly found the reasonable ones I needed. Tali and Garrus were sitting at one of the corner tables hidden in a kind of niche and were actively discussing something. Skirting the drunken Krogan, I fell wearily onto a small couch next to the Turian and spread out over the upholstered furniture with a soft moan.
  "Don't mind?"
  My half-hearted question only elicited quiet chuckles from Tali and a smile from the Turian.
  "That's good." Glancing blearily around the table, I grabbed a glass with some kind of lilac stuff and sucked in the spicy liquid in one gulp to Garrus' warning cry.
  My head felt a little lighter.
  "Shepard!"
  "The work is over! Fuck officialdom and subordination, Garrus! Call me by my first name, Irene."
  "It's a dextro drink!"
  "I have a neutral reaction to dextro." I waved it off, finishing my drink. And if I get too drunk to have allergies, Dr. Chakwas will pump me out. After taking a meticulous look at the alcohol list on a small display mounted directly on the table, I ordered us all a drink, fortunately, due to my peculiarities, we could all drink the same thing.
  "We're walking at my expense today. Still, it's not every day that they take in the SPECTR."
  "Congratulations!" The guy started up, smiling a little guiltily.
  "Thank you. I am very grateful to you. Nothing would have happened without your help."
  Tali's thin hand rested on my forearm.
  "Irene, if it hadn't been for you and Garrus, I would have died, and the information my found went to Saren."
  "My investigation is complete." Garrus was looking at me with a strange expression in his bright blue eyes. He seemed to be thinking about something. "Without you miss..." Catching my gaze, the guy corrected himself, "I'm here for your help, Irene..."
  She raised her hand, interrupting the Turian, who was painfully choosing his words.
  "Let's agree that we were doomed to failure or death alone. Together we have achieved success!"
  Garrus and Tali nodded in agreement.
  "Then... for us, or something..."
  ***
  Further drinking gradually dissolved into alcohol intoxication. And who said that you can't drink too much Turian alcohol until you lose your memory? You can! Yes, you can! And the hangover is no less severe. I felt this in all its glory when I woke up with a painful headache in the familiar Normandy infirmary under the ironic gaze of Karin's gray eyes.
  Garrus was sitting on the next bed, looking at me with a crumpled face, and Tali, cheerful and interested, was reading something on a datapad.
  "Karin... Please tell me that none of the crew saw me on the way here..." I croaked, sinking into the glass of water that the doctor had graciously handed me.
  In response, a guilty look from ligth blue eyes and a soft laugh from the doctor.
  "Calm down, Captain. Only Moro and the guys from the landing party saw you."
  I groaned, burying my forehead in my trembling palm.
  "It's a good first day as a captain... Tali, as the most sober of us, tell me, have we done anything wrong?"
  The Quarian laughed loudly.
  "Come on mam, Spectr, everything was quite decent! You just mam quietly got drunk with Officer Vakarian until you lost the ability to think straight."
  "And then?"
  I was terrified of a colorful description of the outrages, but Tali laughingly told me how the two of us, having finished pouring very expensive dextro-booze, suddenly blew up and stomped straight to the Normandy. And even smoothly. And silently. It's a good thing that my autopilot is still with me, and that Garrus has an analog of it. We were finally knocked down on the ship, and under the fucking gaze of a deeply shocked Joker and the jokes of the soldiers from the landing group, we crawled to the infirmary on our own (!) and surrendered to the mercy of the surprised Dr. Chakvas.
  I fell into a slight euphoria of relief when a hoarse, croaking voice whispered:
  "The SPECTR?"
  We all turned around together.
  "The spectr?" Garrus echoed, blinking his eyes in shock.
  Bright green eyes looked at me, full of sincere surprise and dumbfounded. Nielus finally regained consciousness.
  Chapter 9: Small matters
  "Welcome back to the world of the living, colleague!" I couldn't help but smile. Since Nylus has woken up, it means that his recovery is a matter of time and not too far away.
  "Where am I?" the Spectr asked a completely logical question and tried to get up, but immediately fell back on the bed, growling from the sharp pain.
  "In the Normandy infirmary. And, Nylus, you won't even move your fingers without our doctor's permission."
  The green eyes grew heavy.
  "And don't argue, be kind. The wound is serious: You were standing with both feet in the grave." Garrus cringed at my voice, but Nylus just grunted. "Haven't you forgotten? You still owe me an excuse for how you managed to get shot at point blank range."
  Nylus shyly averted his eyes.
  "The Council..."
  "He already knows." I cut him off. "We've found evidence of Saren's betrayal, and now he's our target. I'll tell you the details and news a little later, as I sort out the pressing matters and the Normandy departs from the Citadel. By the way, the Council left you on our ship under my responsibility.
  "What is the reason?" Specter asked, and then, grimacing, he answered himself.: "Saren's mercenaries?"
  "You know perfectly well that you would have lived in the Citadel hospital just as long as it took him to find out about such a gift from the gods."
  Nielus nodded slowly and visibly relaxed.
  "You've already met our doctor." Another nod. "Now I'll introduce you to those who helped me a LOT in my investigation. Garrus Vakarian. An officer of the SBC. He was conducting an official investigation into Saren's case. The best shooter I've ever seen. Garrus lowered his muzzle in embarrassment, but I could see that he was pleased with the praise. Tali"Zora nar Raya. It was she who brought the information, extracting it from the Geth memory module. A brilliant technician. And an extremely adventurous person. It was necessary... to hunt Geth alone. Successfully, moreover!"
  Now the Quarian lowered her muzzle, but a slight echo of emotion showed that the girl was pleased to hear when she was praised. And deservedly so.
  "Tali, Garrus. Get to know each other. The spectr of Nylus Kraik. It was he who nominated me as a candidate for the Spectr, for which I am infinitely grateful to him." Nylus smiled faintly.
  "And now we're all going to get out of here together, so as not to interfere with the doctor's work and embarrass Nilus with our presence." I grinned at him.
  It has only now dawned on the Spectr in what form it is. Nielus opened his mouth, but when he saw the expression on my insolent face, he closed it and nodded slowly. What else could he do? We have already seen everything that is necessary and unnecessary, and a small screen is not an obstacle, because it was practically removed so as not to interfere with the doctor's supervision of all his patients.
  "Get well, colleague!"
  I was about to rush out of the infirmary after Garrus and Tali when Karin's metallic voice pinned me to the floor.:
  "Are you going somewhere, Specter Shepard?"
  "But Karin!"
  "Irene! You've managed to drink Turian booze until you lose your sanity! Do you even understand what the consequences can be after taking SO much dextro-alcohol?"
  "Well, since I managed to sober up and oversleep, but there are still no consequences... So there are none?" quite reasonably, I remarked, looking ingratiatingly into the doctor's gray eyes. "Moreover, dextro-food is not as dangerous as everyone warns."
  The reproach in the doctor's eyes and the crazy look in his green eyes were my reward.
  "Dextro-alcohol?" The low rumbling voice showed the depth of amazement. "And you survived?"
  "And she didn't even get a rash." I grinned, silently thanking the gods and demons for my powerful regeneration and adaptable body.
  "Irene, people can consume dextro-foods without harm to the body. But - not everything! Alcohol is just one of the dangerous ones! He is quite capable of causing a strong reaction. Neutral products suitable for all types are marked with appropriate labels. They come in both types, but they're harmless and easy to digest.
  "But there was no allergy." I shrugged my shoulders. In my previous incarnations, I've eaten everything... Even the lower demons got their teeth into it. And nothing. I got hurt a couple of times, of course, but I survived...
  "Dismissed, Captain." The doctor graciously dismissed me. "This time. Pilot Moreau is waiting for you in the control room."
  "Oh, come on, Karin! We're not going anywhere yet! We have some left... unfinished business at this beautiful station." My predatory, anticipatory grin made Naylus choke, but his next words brought a knowing smile:
  "We were allowed into the arsenal of the Spectr.
  Bowing formally to the relaxed Turian, I asked:
  "Dear colleague. Do you need anything from the bins of these very arsenals?"
  Despite the way the question was posed and the humorous tone, Naylus realized that I had asked the question without a trace of irony and calmly answered:
  "New heavy armor. And if it's not too much trouble, Irene Spectrum, bring a full set of weapons."
  "Oh, come on... It won't bother me." I noticed, looking into the laughing green eyes. "Garrus will come with me for that."
  "It may not be missed."
  "Nothing. I'll take it out." seeing the growing skepticism in the eyes of a fellow professional and remembering the weight of a full set of armor and weapons, she recovered: "Or drag her out, which is more likely."
  Nielus laughed softly, and I stormed out of the infirmary before I got my neck slapped for making a seriously injured patient laugh. Nielus, on the other hand, grimaced at the sharp pain in his disturbed wound and continued to smile.
  The doors of the infirmary closed softly behind me. Sighing with relief, I ruffled my short hair, frowning at the funny faces of the soldiers of the landing group and into the guilty eyes of Garrus. Why does he blame himself? They seemed to drink together and on my initiative.
  "And why are we so happy?"
  The fighters laughed merrily.
  "Come on, mother do! It was necessary!" Corporal Atkins, giggling merrily, came up and slapped me on the back. Irene treated the guys from her own group well. After moving in, I quite easily transformed this relationship into a friendly one with a slight touch of subordination. Now, outside of missions, the guys are relaxed. To them, I was not Commander Shepard or Spectr, but the only woman in their company who was able to gain trust and gain some credibility.
  "Come on... Have you forgotten how terrified you were the other day, and we hid you from the watchful eyes of the captain?"
  Darg laughed even more merrily.
  "And here you stood out. You should have been so pumped up with dextro-swill! And even crawl to the ship on your own feet! Ah ha ha...! And even in the company of an officer of the C-Sec! Ashley almost lost her temper when she saw you!"
  "Not with booze, but with very expensive alcohol!"
  The fighters were having a lot of fun, teasing me without malice, and Garrus didn't know where to hide from shame and embarrassment. I didn't understand, does he think he framed me in front of his subordinates and undermined his authority? When I met the blue eyes full of remorse and guilt, I clearly understood: yes, he does. But that's not good. I'd forgotten how sensitive Turians are to subordination and insubordination. Garrus was an atypical representative of his people, but for him, what was happening was a bit wild.
  "Oh, come on. Unlike some, Officer Vakarian is the lucky owner of the same autopilot version as me. AND he didn't cause me ANY PROBLEMS. Unlike you in the same condition!"
  "Oh, how!" the fighters whistled, looking at the confused guy with a fraction of respect.
  "So that's a good laugh. Garrus, don't mind them. It's just a joke!"
  Darg and Dylan grinned.
  "Rir, there are rumors that you've become a Spectr."
  "Are they walking already?" I blinked in surprise.
  The laughter is like a snap. The fighters exchanged glances.
  "So is it true?"
  "Truth. Garrus has been very helpful in my investigation, and Tali," I smiled at the Quarian woman huddled against the wall, "She provided the evidence we needed." I raised my hand, interrupting his attempt to protest. Garrus, we agreed yesterday that we would no longer find out who helped whom how much, and who had whose back. The three of us worked well together and our joint actions brought results that I had not hoped for.
  The fighters listened to me very attentively, knowing full well that I was telling all this just for them. Garrus stood uncertainly against the wall. It's amazing where a tough and cold-blooded warrior goes when it comes to banal praise: in front of me was an insecure guy who didn't know where to put his hands or where to look.
  The fighters calmed down and got answers to their questions. Their attitude towards Garrus and Tali subtly changed: wariness and disdain evaporated, the tall Turian was looked at with interest and respect, the girl was somewhat patronizing and friendly. They respected me. Not just Irene, but ME too. The guys felt the changes in our relationship very quickly and they were there... We are grateful. Still, Irene behaved aloof and with a bit of coldness, although she stood up for her subordinates like a mountain, preferring to conduct the showdown without unnecessary witnesses. For which they were both appreciated and respected... However, they were not allowed into the inner circle, and Irene did not seek to get there. After encouraging the fighters that they had until the evening, Garrus, Tali, and I left the ship.
  Garrus was silent while we got to the Presidium, thinking about something, and I suppose he would have remained silent. Tali started an interesting conversation for everyone:
  "Irene. Our investigation is over. I..." the girl stopped, looking at me strangely with pale eyes, barely visible behind the lilac visor of her helmet.
  "Tali... It's just beginning." I smiled. "Or have you changed your mind and don't want to come with me?"
  The girl jerked at this question, waving her arms frantically.
  "No, not at all!"
  "So are you staying?"
  "Of course! I just wanted to clarify. Maybe YOU've changed your mind..." The Quarian's soft murmuring voice faltered.
  "Tali, I don't go back on my words. And I'll be glad to see you and Garrus aboard the Normandy."
  Garrus blinked in surprise, looking into my eyes with a strange expression. This Turian just amazes me sometimes! When it comes to work, he is collected, confident, cold-blooded, tough to the point of cruelty, ruthless and reasonable, but when it comes to personal matters... so all this disappears somewhere in an unknown way, leaving a shy and extremely polite tactful young guy. How is this possible? And so it is now. He stands there, hesitating, and doesn't know how to approach me and ask to join the team. Although I can see it in his eyes: he wants to!
  "Garrus, what are your plans?" The Turian shrugged, shifting uncertainly from one foot to the other, looking at me with surprisingly blue eyes.
  "I'm assembling my own squad to complete the Council's tasks. What do you say?" Come on, come on, propose your candidacy, or at least just agree, but don't look at me with the eyes of a kitten forgotten at the door!
  "I have a job in the Security Service... I was somewhat disappointed." Garrus went out a little, absently tapping his clawed fingers on his forearm. "If you... If you don't mind, I'd like to join your squad." The guy blinked, apparently just realizing what he had said. "You said I was... good at shooting."
  It's just some kind of horror! Garrus causes an uncontrollable attack of emotion, coupled with the desire to punch him in the neck to knock out this wild insecurity and shyness.
  As far as I know, he's about twenty-seven years old now, and he's about a year younger than my body. I'm not sure exactly-I wasn't interested. I'll look at his file later. At the moment, Garrus is an employee of the investigative department of the C-Sec, to whom all the "hanging" and other not too convenient cases are being unloaded, which older colleagues do not want to take on. Vakarian's reputation in the C-Sec is quite specific. He's too honest, proud, and pushy. Do I need such a shot on the ship? Of course... YES!
  "Garrus, do you think Director Pallin would be very unhappy if we took you away from the C-Sec?" Tilting I head slightly to one side, I watched with interest as understanding flashed in her blue eyes, and her expressive face broke into an incredulous smile.
  "Director Pallin doesn't like me too much. Rather, he tolerates it. With difficulty."
  "Then I don't think he'll be too upset. Welcome to the team, Garrus Vakarian." While the confused Turian blinked in disbelief, I sat down on a bench and opened the uni-tool.
  "Thank you, Irene." That's wonderful! Now, before something unexpected happens...
  "Garrus... Do you know how to write transfer reports?" The Turian nodded, looking at me in surprise. I stared at him in silence, and he stared at me until it dawned on him.
  "Now?"
  "Don't you like this bench?" I asked with a chuckle. If you haven't changed your mind, sit down and write a report to Director Pallin about being transferred to the Normandy Special combat unit. And dictate the text to Tali. In the meantime, I'll write an order for its formation."
  It must have looked funny from the outside. Three reasonable people were excitedly scribbling official documents in their instruments, periodically correcting each other and dictating the necessary words and phrases in the official language. The order to form a detachment saw the world a couple of seconds earlier than two reports: one about the transfer, the second about the inclusion of a civilian specialist.
  And just a couple of minutes later, I received an incoming call.
  "Captain Anderson!" I smiled at my former boss, who was completely pleased.
  "Shepard. I got the documents."
  "Is there something wrong with them?" I was worried, but when I saw the sly look in his gray eyes, I relaxed.
  "There's nothing wrong with them, I've sent them to the military department and the Council's office."
  "Thank you, Captain." The man only inclined his head in a slight nod, accepting the sincere gratitude.
  "I am glad that you started forming an operational combat unit so quickly. The Alliance Battle Group is being removed from the Normandy and transferred to another ship. The Eye of the Storm is coming under my command."
  "When will the guys be filmed?"
  "It's already been removed."
  I was a little upset. I'm used to guys, but I couldn't even say goodbye here.
  "Are you taking them to the Eye?"
  Anderson nodded.
  "Is there anything else I should know in advance?"
  "Not everyone is happy that the ship with experimental equipment was given to the Spectr." Many people disagree with your appointment, but there is nothing they can really do. While. Keep this in mind."
  "Thank you, Captain."
  "Good luck, Shepard."
  The connection was lost, and I sat and pondered the veiled warning. What I remember from the canon didn't make me happy. Dear command will act frankly like a pig with Shepard. Well. In any case, I won't be able to do anything properly until I pass the key point with the Lazarus project. The chain of events is too rigidly fixed. But, nevertheless, it is possible to change something. And I'm not me if my dear superiors don't expect a surprise! And we'll have to do something about the Ghost. But - all this later. Garrus, would you be so kind as to escort us to the C-Sec.
  ***
  The C-Sec greeted us with loud cursing and the rumbling voice of a krogan arguing with an officer. The stumbling block was a powerful shotgun, a weapon that is certainly prohibited from being carried on the territory of the Citadel. The shotgun was still taken away, and the evil Krogan remained standing at the massive elevator leading somewhere into the bowels of the C-Sec.
  "Do you often have this here?" I asked quietly.
  "Constantly." Garrus purred. "This is Rex. It's not the first time he's been here, and it won't be the last."
  The Krogan noticed our intensely entertaining trio and watched intently. Did you find out? Is he really going to try to put money behind Fist's head?
  "You. A human." A gruff voice made it clear that Rex had finally made up his mind and recognized me. "Do they call you Shepherd?"
  I stopped, peering with interest at the scarred face.
  "Do I have to answer?" The Krogan rolled away from the elevator wall, which he had been propping up with his shoulder.
  "My name is Rex. The Shadow Broker transferred me a decent amount to get rid of the Fist. But you beat me to it."
  The Krogans basically used the word "You" solely as a plural indicator.
  "And?" I asked with interest.
  "When I get paid for a job, I do it." Rex came almost right up to me, looming over me with his whole mass. "Alone."
  Garrus tensed. Tali got nervous and took a step back.
  "Your problem is that you were so slow." I purred, and a flat disc of a grenade flashed between my fingers.
  The Krogan noticed it.
  "Your people are becoming very... nimble, if properly stimulated." I tossed the grenade in the palm of my hand.
  And Rex suddenly burst out laughing.
  "So it really was you."
  "Where?" I asked naively, blinking my eyes. The grenade, as if by magic, evaporated.
  Rex chuckled and stretched his lips into a crooked grin. Apparently, my unhealthy tendencies and craving for grenades found a lively response in his soul.
  "You did my job." Rex returned to the unfinished conversation. "So you should get the money, too."
  "Rex, are you going to pay for a Fist?" I raised an eyebrow and looked at the Krogan with genuine interest. "For me?"
  "I won't take money for someone else's work! I transferred them to your account."
  He did it! Shaking my head, I stared at the strange face of the powerful Krogan with some confusion. I didn't believe that this mercenary really took such things so seriously...
  "I liked the way you handled the Fist." The heavy gaze shifted to Garrus. "I hear you're hunting Saren."
  "Rumors spread quickly." Garrus rasped faintly.
  Rex ignored him.
  "I want to go with you." The Krogan slapped me, staring intently into my eyes.
  And that's what to do with it? Does he really think that a military officer would take a mercenary with a dubious reputation with him?
  "Rex, you're a mercenary. What's the benefit to you in chasing Saren?"
  The Krogan was silent for several long, agonizing minutes, staring intently into my eyes. And I couldn't read his emotions. Complete phlegm.
  "I'm not doing this for the money." The rumbling bass only emphasized the seriousness of his intentions, literally hammering every word. "I want to be somewhere hot. A storm is coming, and you and Saren are in the middle of it."
  Great job. An adrenaline junkie in a particularly neglected form with a code of honor that I don't understand. Although... Whoever's talking. I looked at the Krogan thoughtfully:
  "You do realize that there are a lot of Krogan working for Saren."
  "These are not Krogan!" Rex growled, waving his hand in exasperation. "These are servants and slaves! They lick Saren's heels for the promise of power and wealth!"
  Oh, so Rex is really good.
  "My people were a proud race! Some of us still remember it."
  "Okay. Consider yourself accepted into the team. On probation."
  The Krogan nodded.
  "Write a report." my words have already flown in the back. "Anyway, where are you going?"
  Rex stopped, turned slowly, and stared at my contented face with genuine surprise.
  "Since you've signed up for a place in the squad, you can get to work. Come with us."
  Rex grunted rumblingly, and I caught the uncomprehending look in his blue eyes and explained in a whisper:
  "Garrus, are you going to put all the weapons and armor on your hump? Won't anything fall off?"
  The Turian gasped and coughed, and Tali giggled softly.
  "First to Pallin, let's make him happy about your transfer, and then gut the arsenals!"
  ***
  Pallin didn't say anything. He just read the report and silently confirmed it. He just stared at the nervous Garrus for a long time with a hard gaze. I believe he was aware of my current status and the role Garrus played in my investigation and subsequent appointment. And he wasn't at all surprised to see such a strange international company barging into his office. For a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes.
  As we were leaving, a quiet sound flew at our backs:
  "Good luck, Vakarian. I hope you know what you're doing."
  Garrus flinched, but gave no sign that he had heard anything. But I didn't focus on it.
  We walked to the quartermaster in heavy silence. Garrus walked thoughtfully through the corridors of the C-Sec, responding incongruously to the greetings of former colleagues. Tali was tactfully silent, but Rex didn't really care. He woke up when we stopped in front of the quartermaster, a tall Turian with bright yellow eyes.
  "Commander Shepard. The armed forces of the Alliance. For the first time at the Citadel. Right?"
  The quartermaster's low, hoarse voice brought Garrus back to reality.
  "Right."
  Despite my appointment as a Spectr, my dear superiors were not going to let me out of their hands. There's nothing I can do about it right now, and I don't need to. But after the key point... Then we'll see how I get off the hook.
  "Will you take anything today, Commander Shepard?"
  The Turian leaned on the table and looked at me with interest, waiting for an answer. The military of all races could stock up on new weapons and armor in the arsenals of the C-Sec. For the money. But I am a Spectrum, and there are special arsenals and vaults for them. Free of charge.
  "I will."
  The quartermaster nodded and tapped on the keyboard.
  "Good. Let's check yours now..." The Turian stammered, staring at the screen in amazement. "wow... You have access to the arsenals of the Special Corps. Are you Ma'am a Spectr?"
  I nodded.
  "Oh! I've heard about the appointment of a human Spectre, but I didn't know it was you. Congratulations."
  "Thank you. This appointment is an honor for me."
  "The Turian nodded understandingly, typing the access code into the terminal."
  "I beg." A three-fingered palm pointed at the door that had opened. "Do you know the rules?"
  "I know." I put my ID card on the table. "I need armor kits not only for me, but also for my colleague."
  "Name?"
  "Nihlus Kraik."
  The quartermaster choked on his breath.
  "I heard he's dead!"
  "The rumors are exaggerated. He's seriously injured, but he's still alive. His old armor is beyond repair, and since I'm here, I'll bring a set for him."
  "I will note that some of the uniforms were taken for another operative."
  "Sure."
  The Turian read the data from the ID card and returned it to me. Only Garrus was allowed inside with me, and that was after my fair comment that I was alone, and I needed to take a lot of stuff. I rejected the idea of robbing the arsenal with high quality, but I took the armor on myself, Nihlus and Garrus. Two sets each. It took longer to choose a weapon. I remembered roughly what Nihlus had before disembarking, and the armor boxes were joined by boxes with assault rifles, pistols, three shotguns, and all sorts of small things like grenades and first-aid kits. Garrus silently carried the heavy boxes and unloaded them at Rex's feet. As I was about to leave, I noticed IT: the Harpoon sniper system.
  I came out of the arsenal with a happy face, hugging two long boxes with sniper rifles. Saying goodbye to the puzzled quartermaster, I silently pointed to the pile of boxes and stomped to the elevator.
  How we got to Normandy is a separate song! Swearing. Garrus and Rex carried their honestly looted possessions, hissing and swearing softly as Tali tried to hold back a mountain of small boxes. And I was carrying a pyramid of five weapon boxes. They watched us go with SUCH looks that if it hadn't been for such a burden, I would have been ashamed... probably. And yes, I had to do it manually! The armories of the Special Corps did not provide trolleys, loaders or home delivery. Except for a pre-arranged request to board the ship.
  As soon as we fell into the airlock, the deadly cargo ended up on the floor, and we, swearing, straightened up and rubbed our crushed arms and stretched backs.
  "Damn it! Shopping in the SPECTR arsenals is an extremely exciting business... but shopping is hard..." I muttered while the disinfection was going on.
  "Why so much?" Garrus pointed at the armor boxes.
  "Medium armor is for you. It's too much for Nihlus."
  "For me?" Garrus blinked in confusion. "But I'm not a Spectr!"
  The airlock doors parted. Picking up the boxes, I stumbled into the corridor, kicking the unstable pyramid out of the airlock.
  "So what? You don't have any proper armor or weapons. What they gave you at the C-Sec..."
  "I've already passed." The guy spread his hands.
  "That's exactly what passed! And when did you get there? What you're wearing right now won't even protect you from a light assault rifle! We'll take them to the armory, where we'll divide them up."
  That's what I like about the Normandy, it's the convenient distribution of the interior space and the elevator right at the airlock. So all we had to do was move the cargo through a narrow corridor, and a little later, bring it into the arsenal, the entrance to which was also located near the elevator.
  I laid out the boxes and picked up one of them.
  "Rex."
  The Krogan growled questioningly.
  "This is your compensation for the confiscated shotgun."
  Krogan took the box and examined it with pleasure.
  "Good! Thank you, Shepherd!"
  "Irene." I smiled at the pleased Krogan, who was unpacking a new toy.
  "Tali, you're not supposed to be a fighter, but you have to have a weapon." A box with a powerful pistol slid across the metal table.
  "Oh!" the girl caught the box with both hands.
  And now the most interesting part!
  Making Garrus blush is probably my favorite thing to do in the last twenty-four hours! It's worth doing something for him, as the guy immediately gets lost and stands, blinking his eyes in confusion. It feels like the very idea that someone could do something for him JUST like that doesn't fit in his head! He is so sincerely grateful and so sensitive to ANY expressions of care and banal human warmth, which only strengthens the desire to do some small thing for him and feel this storm of bright and pure emotions again. And this is already happening, even though my empathy has just started to work. But what will happen when I get my mentalism back in full and start feeling even the slightest fluctuations of emotions?
  Even now, he stands there, hesitating, squinting at the Harpoon. And he can't believe that it was really taken for him. Although outwardly he is a calm, confident fighter. Emotions are shown by small, almost imperceptible gestures: uncertain shifting from one foot to the other, twitching fingers, mandibles tightly pressed to cheeks and, most importantly, eyes. Truly - a mirror of the soul!
  "Garrus, don't look at the Harpoon like that. It's really yours."
  The box of beacons, which he had just been twirling in his hands, fell out of his fingers with a crash.
  "Yours is yours." The long box slid across the table and skidded to a stop next to the barely perceptibly quivering claws. "You're a sniper from God. I can only give you a decent weapon. Of all the things in the arsenal, the Harpoon is the most worthy."
  Silence, and a quiet purring voice:
  "Thank you."
  ***
  In the late afternoon, I went to the infirmary. Nihlus was lying on his bunk and was frankly bored, and he was pleased to see me. After telling him everything that happened after that ill-fated shot, I pleased him with my appointment to the Spectr's and let him listen to the conversation with the Council...
  And then we just sat and chatted about all sorts of nonsense. A little later, a satisfied Garrus pulled himself into the infirmary, already wearing a new armor. We just sat there, exchanging life stories, until Karin came and kicked Garrus and me out, commanding Niallus not to move or touch his healing wound.
  The binding worked as it should, and the regeneration accelerated by drugs and an excess of vital energy gave hope that by the time Nilus arrived on Artemis's Tau, he would already be able to stand up.
  The crew would return from their leave only in the morning, but for now, the ship's decks, immersed in a pleasant twilight, remained mysteriously quiet and calm. The tedious day is over.I was sitting on the couch in the lounge area, sipping a soft drink. Much has been done and more needs to be done. But now, in the silence and darkness, I could calmly think about what was happening and somehow prepare for the coming events.
   Tomorrow morning we will fly to Tau Artemis for Liara T"Sony.

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