Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

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 theCouncil. “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!” Andersonchuckled. “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.