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In Heat Sinks, We Trust	By : rocketwarrior Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > Crossovers Views: 618 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mass Effect, Saints Row/Agents of Mayhem, or Dragon Age franchises, nor do I own The Outer Worlds; furthermore, to assume I make money from writing about them is laughable.

Chapter List
- 1-the board vs the council, part one: la llegada
- 1
Deep within the heart of The Attican Traverse lies The Citadel; a melting pot of “space-worthy” races, as well as home of The Council. Many consider The Attican Traverse “Citadel-controlled” as The Council basically oversees it. Often, they have their Special Tactics & Reconnaissance or Spectres patrolling the area to make sure everything is in order. Spectres are often called The Council’s dirty little secret. It’s merely their title that allows them to get away with virtually anything. It’s why there aren’t that many Spectres in the galaxy. If one of their hand-picked individuals went rogue, it makes The Council look bad.

So far, Spectres, were only council races: asari, turian, hanar, drell, and salarian but other races are looking to get a piece of the action, as well as a coveted spot on The Council.

Currently, the “associate member” races – races who have embassies on The Citadel, but very little else in terms of power, are: elcor, volus, and human. They, much like any future space-worthy species chosen to have an embassy, are bound by the Citadel Conventions Accords. Accords that state any race could apply for an embassy as many times as they’d like but only the council’s unanimous decision would allow entry.

The Board’s been getting impatient. No surprise there. Funny how humanity’s “best and brightest” didn’t include a single patient individual.

One year after the failure that was “First-Contact” (or the Relay 312 Incident known by any other species), The Board was formed. When they discovered people could metaphorically be shot into space and not die instantaneously, contingency plans were put in place. Humans would reach quadrants of the galaxy other species only theorized. The Board put together “the best and brightest” because it would do no good to have another “First-Contact” scenario.

Scientists, engineers, farmers, physicians – all sent into space to form colonies for humans outside of earth. And they did it without The Council.

Ten years after “First-Contact,” humans tried getting a seat on The Council and were brutally rebuffed. This sixteen-year ongoing shitshow was getting ridiculous!

Quite frankly, The Board was sick of playing by The Council’s rules. Who the hell gave them the Maker-given right to decide every species’ fate? If other species weren’t bitching about how humans were “bullying” their way into space they’d forget about The Council altogether.

But no, since Earth was essentially the “human homeworld” and in the Attican Traverse, which was “Council Ruled,” humanity had no choice but to play nice.

Still, to have a human become a Spectre and be part of the Council’s decision making? Humanity needed this.

(Even if The Board didn’t quite know what Spectres did.)

While The Board had a number of human-only organizations, that smartly kept as far away from The Attican Traverse as spatially possible, until they knew what the hell Spectres were they couldn’t create their own superior version of the elusive organization. After all, the galaxy was a big place. Why should one organization be responsible for galactic wide safety?

Decorated Alliance Navy Captain David Anderson assured them there was a worth candidate in this “Shepard” kid he recommended. The Council seemed willing to lend an ear, if nothing else. And that in itself was… interesting.

Thousands of Board-certified candidates, many of which were not part of The Alliance Navy, were effortlessly brushed aside, not even given a glance let alone an audience – for sixteen years; it was unlikely The Council got sick of their attempts and complaints.

Shepard might well be humanity’s sole hope to be taken seriously by the other species.

But to have a candidate that wasn’t Board-certified? It was a gamble. For Shepard to fly under The Board’s radar was interesting. Not to mention next to impossible. The Board had eyes everywhere when it came to humanity. The only way an individual to be practically invisible was if someone on the inside let them slide. A member of The Board deliberately kept Lieutenant-Commander Shepard’s Alliance Navy record from surfacing around their colleagues, but for what purpose? The Board only had humanity’s best interests at heart.

🔫 🔫

Executor Venari Pallin strolls the C-Sec offices eager to pass on this shit detail the council handed to him. Spectres. They’re a waste of resources if you ask him. Nobody should get leeway to skirt the law, regardless of “the galaxy’s best interests.” Hm. Who pissed him off this week? Ah! “Vakarian!” There’s the customary, expected twitch whenever his name is yelled. In Pallin’s experience, Garrus Vakarian’s sole purpose in C-Sec (and perhaps life?) is to question all his boss’ decisions. And, as Vakarian’s boss, that gets tiresome. Nevertheless, Pallin advances tapping the datapad along Vakarian’s desk. If anyone would be thrilled to escort a “Spectre,” it would be Vakarian. Or it might stir up some old feelings about Vakarian missing his “opportunity” to join the “elusive” group. “You say I don’t give you enough work since your promotion? I have an assignment tailored to you.” Vakarian – as expected – looks dubious but Pallin presses on. “There’s a spectre candidate arriving and they’ll need an escort to the council.”

Vakarian snorts. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s an assignment. Take it or leave it. With how much you talk about Spectres, I figured—”

With a sigh, Vakarian stands holding out a hand for the datapad. “I’ll take it.”

“Good.” Pallin drops the datapad into the waiting palm. “That’s all you need. Be on your way, the shuttle will be arriving at any minute.”

“Of course, sir. Understood, sir.” The sarcasm is undeniable but Vakarian leaves all the same. As soon as he leaves, Pallin sighs heavily then plops down in Vakarian’s vacated chair. Early retirement seems more appealing each day he works with Vakarian. Given Castus’ personality, Pallin has to wonder how his son turned out to be his opposite; could be spite, Vakarian seems to run on it.

Meanwhile, Garrus stares at the datapad in his hands like it’s a bomb primed to go off. Knowing Pallin, this can’t be as simple as an escort job. Not that anything involving Spectres is ever simple. Hmm. Now that he thinks about it, it’s been a few years since a candidate came through here. No harm in peeking at this candidate, is there?

Making his way through the Citadel, Garrus heads to the docking bay all the while skimming the datapad. There’s no picture but there is a name, albeit a surname, along with a lengthy list of accomplishments for this “Commander J. Shepard.” Huh. Not even a first name? Wait. Shepard? He’s heard about the “Headsman of Torfan.” Almost everyone has. He’s seen batarians rip down Alliance recruitment posters while cursing Shepard’s name. One wouldn’t think a human would—

Wait. Human? That can’t be right. Garrus skims the datapad again and sure enough, the damn Spectre candidate is human. A full-blooded human too. (At least, presumed to be one according to the file.)

“First-contact” was just twenty-six years ago; humans were granted their embassy approximately nineteen years ago. In seven years, other species went from learning of human’s existence to seeing them on The Citadel. It took turians over a century to get their first Spectre after getting their embassy. Not to mention it took centuries to even get the embassy after they first became space-worthy. Volus have been around for longer than the turians and humans combined, and they only have an embassy.

A lot of people aren’t gonna be happy about this development. Other species already think the humans are bullying their way into things. The Alliance Navy – a human organization – already roams The Attican Traverse, somewhat aggressively one might say. Plus, human colonies are starting up all over the galaxy even outside The Attican Traverse.

It’ll be interesting to see the human’s next move. Pallin’s been working in C-sec for as long as an asari’s lifespan, so according to him there was supposed to be a human Spectre candidate shortly after first-contact, but not even he knows what happened. It’s a bit of a surprise because for someone who claims to care very little about Spectres he seems to have a big (negative) opinion on them.

Garrus arrives at the docking bay and looks around. Shuttles, frigates, cruisers – far beyond the horizon yet none of them seem recently used. “Is there something I can help you with, sir?” The salarian attendant asks, approaching.

“I’m waiting for someone. A human. A Commander Shepard.”

“What does this human look like?”

“I have no idea. There’s no image in the dossier.” Garrus hands the salarian the datapad who looks over it with a hum before returning it.

“I sent a human – tiny thing, didn’t know the fully-grown ones stopped so small. Anyway, sent it to Doctor Michel’s clinic. Lots of batarian and krogan blood on that one.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“Oh, don’t be. Usual day at the docking bay, to be honest. Violent anti-human ‘protestors’ looking for easy prey. They don’t physically step foot on The Citadel so there’s nothing C-sec really does about it. Anyway, they stopped a shuttle containing two humans. The tiny one I mentioned and one who was significantly taller. The taller one got taken out pretty early, went to Huerta Memorial since the injuries were so bad but the tiny one? Took out all twelve protestors by itself with simply a shotgun and bare hands. Drew quite the crowd. Their injuries were minor, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure, you know? Humans are fragile-looking things, after all. Plus, as I mentioned, lots of blood – most belonging to the protestors mind you. Oh! And the tiny human barely nicked any major organs. Just left a heap of motionless bodies!” The salarian laughs.

“I see. You said Doctor Michel’s clinic?”

“Hm? Oh yes. Wasn’t too long ago, should still be able to catch them.”

🔫 🔫

Word around the rumor mill is, Captain David Anderson and Lieutenant Kahlee Sanders are the reason Shepard is an N7 Alliance soldier. Ambassador Donnel Udina’s heard several versions of “the story,” but has yet to hear what truly happened. He and Anderson have been working together for months preparing the council with the idea of a human spectre. That in itself was a difficult, seemingly impossible, thankless task but they finally convinced them to at least give Shepard a chance.

As badly as Udina wants a human inducted into the prestigious honor of Spectre, after reading Shepard’s dossier, he wishes it was anyone but them for consideration. Unironically, for Anderson there wasn’t any other option but Shepard. Admittedly, on paper, Shepard is an ideal choice: an N7 soldier with numerous accolades and (positive) experience working with aliens? However, even if one doesn’t take the entire shitshow that was Torfan into account, Shepard hardly seems to have humanity's best interest at heart. As any human Spectre will represent humanity, that is a pretty big deal.

Shepard’s dossier practically boasts the fact that the commander is a raging, unapologetic xenophile. Perhaps, that’s what tipped the council in their favor? Udina doubts they’d pick someone who had little interest in other aliens or their cultures, and Shepard did save the lives of hundreds of aliens on Torfan, all the while sacrificing dozens of human soldiers in the process. There were reasons the commander was called: The Butcher/Headsman of Torfan. Furthermore, Shepard is hardly the diplomatic sort – something else super important in a Spectre candidate.

Nihlus Kryik – an actual, living Spectre legend – collaborated with them; well, with Anderson more like. The turian took a real liking to the captain and seems more interested in meeting Shepard than the council. In fact, the council put him in charge of overseeing Shepard’s skills. According to the council, Spectres aren’t trained but born. Although, Udina could be paraphrasing. He’s seen Spectre type training courses throughout The Citadel but no actual Spectre was seen overseeing said courses.

Nihlus and Anderson are at Anderson’s desk chatting to a blonde on a holo. “You’ll tell me when she arrives, right?” The blonde asks.

Anderson chuckles lightly, “don’t worry, Kahlee, I’ll tell her to contact you the minute I see her.” The blonde frowns but nods. Wait, did he say Kahlee? That must be Lieutenant Sanders. Udina tries to get a better look at the blonde but turians are pretty damn tall, and Nihlus is effectively blocking most of the desk from his sight.

Nihlus’ omni-tool starts to glow then he presses a few buttons and the screen pops up. “Spectre Kryik.” The salarian on the other end greets. Behind him are two other, snickering salarians, “heard you were to chaperone a human? What did you do to the council this time?”

“If you must know, I volunteered.”

“But why?!” All three salarians gasp.

“This one has potential.”

“Ah. A guinea pig then? Understandable. Humans are easy to adapt.” The three salarians nod to one another. “We look forward to seeing the human’s capabilities.”

“As do I.”

“You know, I heard a human arrived at The Citadel this morning. Put a lot of anti-human protestors in various clinics.” Kahlee, still on the holo, sighs and Anderson pinches the bridge of his nose. Nihlus has to think this is Shepard and if it is, she’s making one hell of a first impression already. “The entire thing was over so quickly many people didn’t get a good look at the human.”

“Where is this human now?”

“Doctor Michel’s office, or so we’ve heard.”

Nihlus glances at Anderson who is still looking at the holo. “What do you think, Captain? Shall we take a look?”

“I’m willing to bet it’s Shepard—”

“Without a doubt.” Kahlee adds.

“—But it doesn’t hurt to be certain.”

Nihlus nods at him. “Hold on.” Udina says getting up, “Commander Shepard is supposed to be meeting with The Council.”

“And we’ll make sure that happens, Ambassador.” Nihlus says, he gestures for Anderson to move. “Shall we?”

🔫 🔫

Garrus makes his way to Doctor Michel’s office before Pallin could hear about it and decides to somehow blame him for something he wasn’t involved in. “Doctor Michel?”

The aforementioned woman’s head pops up from behind a curtain. “Oh! Garrus! Hello. Come in! Come in!” Garrus does and looks around. All the cots are empty but there is a curtain drawn at the back of the infirmary. “What can I do for you?”

“I was told you are treating a human who...” He clears his throat, “beat up anti-human protestors?”

The woman chuckles. “I am. And I’d finish a lot sooner if she’d stop picking at her bandages.” She yells and the figure behind the curtain flinches then the curtain draws.

“I don’t like doctors.” Garrus blinks because of all the images that came to mind when one referred to “The Headsman of Torfan” a brown-skinned, speckily, red-haired, barely full-sized female human was not one of them. Huh. He’s gonna win the betting pool. The Spirits told him to bet that Commander Shepard was a woman and they’ve just won him a bucket of credits. Assuming this is Commander Shepard. Only one way to find out.

“Lieutenant Commander Shepard?” Garrus salutes. “Garrus Vakarian. C-Sec has sent me to escort you to the council.”

“Ah. Haven’t gotten an escort since I was in...” She snaps her mouth shut then hops off the cot to return the salute. “Nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand and Garrus hesitantly shakes it. Humans are fragile things and such a small one must be twice, if not three times, as much. At the same time this tiny human has a slightly higher body count than his during his entire time in the military. It’s as impressive as it is terrifying. At the same time, humans did make enemies in every quadrant they visited. Not to mention Shepard is still in the Alliance Navy so her body count is only gonna increase.

Doctor Michel putters over to Shepard and slaps some omni-gel onto the gash on her right arm.

“Motherfucker! Warn a girl next time, Doc!”

“Thank you for the distraction, Garrus. There’s a box of chocolates for you on the counter.”

“Thanks Doc.” With Shepard grousing, the doctor wraps up her arm and treats the remainders of the bruises and lacerations on her skin. Five minutes later, Shepard is given the all clear to depart and given the advice to stay away from the docking area.

As they’re leaving Nihlus Kryik, Ambassador Udina, and a man Garrus’ never seen before are standing in the doorway.

“You look half dead.” The unfamiliar man says stepping up to Shepard and pulling her in for a hug.

“Feel half dead. Haven’t had a decent meal in a fortnight.” She releases him, “you alone?” The man nods.

“Officer Vakarian.” Nihlus greets, “wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“The Executor wanted me to take the commander to the council.” Nihlus nods with a hum. “Commander, this is Nihlus Kryik.”

Shepard holds out a hand and Nihlus shakes it. “Pleasure making your acquaintance, Commander. Anderson has told me a lot about you.”

“Can’t say the same I’m afraid.” She shoots the man—Anderson—a look.

Udina pointedly clears his throat. “Ah. Where are my manners? This is Ambassador Donnel Udina.” Nihlus introduces.

“I hope they’re right about you, Shepard.”

“That depends on what they said, Ambassador.” He narrows his eyes and Garrus has to cough into his fist to suppress a laugh.

Shepard doesn't seem like the typical stuffy Alliance soldier Garrus has seen brooding around The Citadel. She's – what's that charming human phrase? “A breath of clean air.”

Garrus clears his throat. “Let's take you to see The Council, Commander.”

“Fine.” Shepard grabs a black jacket hanging on the coat rack by the door, “but you're taking me to the nearest bar afterward.” She shrugs on the jacket as they walk out the door. Udina sighs as he, Anderson, and Nihlus follow behind them.

The Council seems less impressed with Shepard than Nihlus does but more than Udina.

And considering Udina didn’t seem impressed at all, that isn’t saying much.

After The Council’s hour long monologue about Spectres and their responsibilities, they “officially” give Nihlus the job to oversee Shepard in action and to decide whether or not humanity is ready for their first Spectre.

“What exactly are you going to be doing, Nihlus?”

“As The Council said, Ambassador, I’m simply overseeing The Commander in action. On and off the field.”

Udina groans. “Why didn’t you pick a better option, Anderson?”

“As I recall, you didn’t offer any suggestions.”

“This isn’t about me. This is about humanity! The other races will start taking us seriously with a Spectre. And they’ll continue to treat us like a joke if they find out we had a candidate that blew it all to hell!”

“What makes you think Shepard will blow it? You barely spent five minutes talking to her.”

“Maybe not but you Alliance types take protocol and rank very seriously. Or you usually do.”

“I’ve known Shepard before she wore an Alliance uniform, so we drop ‘protocol and rank’ outside of the field.”

“So the rumors are true then?” Nihlus interrupts. “You and Shepard have more of a father-daughter relationship.”

“What of it? That’s not my main reason for nominating her. I think because she’s not your typical Alliance soldier is why she’s the best option for a Spectre. It isn’t just humanity's interests Shepard has at heart, it’s the entire galaxy’s.”

Udina scoffs. “Is that why she dragged a decorated C-Sec officer to a bar in midday?”

“Hell, I think we all need a drink after the Council’s speech.”

“True.” Nihlus agrees, “lead the way, Captain. We have much to discuss.”

🔫 🔫

“This is a club?” Shepard looks around not bothering to hide her disdain.

Beside her, Garrus nods. “Flux just opened a few weeks back. I figured here was a safer bet than Chora’s Den or Purgatory.”

“Why?”

“Less opportunities for you to start trouble.”

“Me? Start trouble?” Shepard waves him off, “perish the thought.”

“Uh-huh.”

Shepard laughs then points at one of the machines by the staircase. “What’s that?”

“Quasar. Wanna give it a shot?”

“Later. I need alcohol—”

“Uh. I’m no expert on alien biology but should you be drinking with your injuries?”

“Let’s find out~” Shepard actually skips over to the bar and plops down on a stool. “Hi!”

The volus bartender nods at her, “greetings, Earth-Clan. What can I get you?”

Shepard scans the menu on the bar and her brown eyes go wide, “ooh, I want this.” She points at the picture of a frothy purple liquid called The Screamer. Garrus doesn’t know much about alien consumption habits but that particular purple just isn’t a natural color of food for any species. Not to mention that drink name does not help matters.

“Ooh. Excellent choice, Earth-Clan.” The volus bartender whips up the drink that turns an even brighter shade of purple than the picture leads them to believe. “And what of you, Palaven-Clan?”

Garrus contemplates this. It’s still early but at the same time he has to go back to Pallin with his report. “Do you have a dextro version?” Shepard claps him on the back far harder than he was expecting because he feels it through his armor.

“Let’s get you sloshed, Big Guy.”

“Let’s not, I still have to go back to work.”

Shepard blows a raspberry, “you’re no fun.” The volus bartender slides two frothy bright purple mugs toward them. “Thank you.” Garrus murmurs a less enthusiastic thanks as he skeptically eyes the mug. Beside him, Shepard knocks the drink back. He’s starting to understand why aliens are a little afraid of her. Of course, he knows a couple of people are gonna hear of Shepard and not expect this petite human female who is thanking the bartender for her second Screamer while Garrus is still staring at his first. “Are you gonna drink it or stare at it?” Shepard asks.

Garrus throws caution to the fucking wind and knocks his drink back. If he ends up naked in a Citadel elevator, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Although it would be the first when he was on the clock.

“So...” Garrus puts his mug down and shakes his head when the bartender emotions to the empty mug. “What’s your first order of business when you become a Spectre?”

“When I become one? Aren’t you confident?”

Garrus shrugs, “if the Council has doubts just challenge all three of them to a drinking contest.” Shepard barks out a laugh. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought of it when you got word you were recommended?”

Shepard hums, “to be honest, I didn’t give it any thought. Hell, I never heard of the Spectres until Anderson sent me a brief message about becoming one when I was on a shuttle to somewhere else for shore leave.”

Garrus blinks at her, “you’re kidding me.”

“Nope. Just a poorly educated human Anderson believed was the best person for the job. He said he’d fill me in on everything when he gets free time but who the hell knows when that is.”

“Let me give you the short version then: The Council are the main voices in galactic politics and Spectres are their right-hands to make sure the galaxy is running as smoothly as it can. All things considered.”

“Okay, but what do they do?”

Garrus shrugs, “depending on how sadistic The Council is feeling at the moment, Spectres do whatever The Council asks of them. The Council are the only people Spectres answer to.”

“How many Spectres exist?”

“Only The Council knows the answer to that, but I can’t imagine there are too many. Things would be chaotic otherwise.” Shepard motions to the bartender for another drink; though this time it is a multi-colored one. “Anyway, if you get accepted, you’ll be the galaxy’s first human Spectre.”

She doesn’t spit out her drink but it’s a near thing. “Thanks for the warning.” She rasps.

Garrus grins at her, “just thought you’d like to know the entire galaxy is waiting on, what’s the phrase?, ‘baiting breath?’”

“Baited breath. Yeah, I know, I don’t get it either.” Shepard sighs, “wish Anderson gave me a heads up that this was bigger than he lead on.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to scare you off?”

“Considering he didn’t give me much of a choice, I don’t think that was the reason.” She sighs, setting her now empty glass down. “Probably wanted to see my reaction. He’s a bit of a sadist.” Garrus hums. “So, C-Sec Officer Garrus Vakarian, when do you get off work? I don’t wanna wander around this place by myself just yet.”

“Yeah, it’s probably not safe for anyone else to have you wandering around alone anyhow.” Shepard laughs.

🔫 🔫

Garrus manages to get back to C-Sec in one piece. Shepard, who had way more to drink than he did and is at least sixty whole centimeters shorter, had to steady him more times than he could count. Though he managed to sober up… mostly by the time he reached the front doors. Pallin is standing in the doorway radiating disappointment that would make his father proud as Garrus drops the datapad in his hands. “These anti-human protestors are becoming a problem, sir.”

“The real problem is letting the humans gallivant around The Citadel. You know, they’re talking about hiring human C-Sec officers? Ridiculous.”

“The humans are gonna come whether we welcome them with open arms or not.”

Pallin sighs, “don’t I know it. They seem to thrive on confrontation. Spirits, they’re like the krogan… only smaller and fleshier. Things will only get worse if this human is inducted into the Spectres.”

“Or things could get better?”

Pallin regards him curiously. “You’re not usually so optimistic, Vakarian. Never optimistic at all, come to think of it. That human must’ve made one hell of an impression on you.”

“Well, it had a little something to do with single-handedly taking on the violent protestors.”

Pallin whistles, “hot damn. Seriously?”

Garrus points at the datapad, “all in my report, sir.” Pallin’s browplates rise. “If you want my opinion, sir, I believe the violent protestors are deliberately causing trouble to hide something much larger going on behind the scenes.”

“You think so, hm? Why not get to work on it then?” Nodding, Garrus walks past the executor to his desk. Shepard said she was going back to the Ambassador’s office, but Garrus had to wonder if she knew the way there. Damn. He should’ve escorted her before coming back; not the other way around.

Ridgefield rolls his chair over to Garrus’ desk, “how’d the babysitting gig go?”

Garrus snorts, “I’m sure it was far more interesting than your patrol.”

“That’s for damn sure.” Ridgefield leans back in his chair, “but I managed to get a look at the guys who got shot by your new best friend. And, by the by, I’m hurt—deeply hurt you were so quick to replace me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There are images all over the extranet. You and the potential human spectre drinking – during daytime Vakarian?” He tsks. “Still, she’s pretty cute for a human. Don’t know how that translates sexually…? I mean, I hear they’re close enough to asari anatomically, just not blue, so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re not trying to get in the spectre hopeful’s pants? I mean, sleeping with a spectre is just about as close as you’re gonna get to being one.”

“First off, fuck you. Second of all, we just met.”

Ridgefield shrugs, “I’ve slept with lots of people ‘I just met.’ That’s a terrible excuse, Vakarian.” Garrus rolls his eyes. “Shit, if you’re not interested, I’ll give it a shot. Always wanted to try a human.”

“Then go meet one yourself.”

“Ooh. Someone’s catty. Don’t wanna share? Afraid your new buddy will like me more?”

Garrus rolls his eyes. “I find that very unlikely.”

“Then there’s really no harm in us meeting, is there? Everyone wants a turian nowadays. Hell, we’re more popular than the asari! Have you been to Shiara’s lately? She’s got turian girls now.” He hums in appreciation, “gonna pop over there after work.” He gives Garrus a pointed look, “unless you wanted to hang out?”
“And deny you the opportunity to meet your future wife at the consort’s place? I could never be so cruel!”

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, smartass, we’ll see who has the better future wife when you’re taking place in alien wedding ceremonies. All I know is, I’d better be your paranymph.”

“Dunno. Lamont wouldn’t’ve given me such a hard time.”

“Now you’re purposely fucking with me!” He huffs haughtily, then rolls his chair back to his desk.

🔫 🔫

For all her numerous accolades, sense of direction she has not. After getting directions from three separate individuals, Shepard gave up on trying to find her way back to Anderson’s office and miserably plopped down at a barstool, after she stumbled into a bar. It didn’t look like the same bar “her new best friend” took her to but she couldn’t find the name anywhere. Why she could always find herself around alcohol was anyone’s guess.

“Lieutenant Commander Shepard?” She barely got to look at the menu when a woman in an Alliance uniform salutes her. “I’m Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. Ambassador Udina sent me to find you.”

Shepard groans, “not that guy.”

Williams nods in understanding, “I’m afraid so.”

“Can’t you just tell him you can’t find me?”

Chuckling, Williams takes a seat in the stool beside her. “I would, but he’d just bitch about how the Alliance can’t do anything right.” Groaning again, Shepard thumps her head on the counter. “I really don’t know what his problem is. He complains about the Alliance all the time yet expects them to be at his beck and call.”

“He’s an asshole.” Shepard mutters turning her head to Williams, “that’s their usual M.O..”

Shepard sticks out a hand Williams shakes with a smile. “People usually wait at least a day of knowing Udina to call the ambassador out on his bullshit.”

Shepard laughs, “can’t wait that long, and it’s not like my opinion of him would change in the span of a day.”

Williams shakes her head chuckling, “if you’re looking for the halfway decent stuff you should head to Purgatory.” The turian bartender gives them a dirty look at the suggestion then heads to the other side of the circular bar to the other customers.

“Where the hell is here?”

“This is Chora’s Den.” Shepard sits up, “they say a crime boss runs this place.” Williams says conversationally. “Maybe not as adventurous as Batarian slavers but…” The brunette trails off with a shrug, “did half the stuff in your dossier about Torfan actually happen?”

“If I’m being 100% honest, Madame Gunnery Chief, I haven’t read my service record before so I have no idea.”

“What?! You’re kidding! With all that you’ve done, how could you not!?”

“My therapist strongly advised against it.”

“Really? My Alliance registered therapist said it’s good knowing ‘the changes you made in people’s lives.’” Williams rolls her eyes, “I need a drink.” She gets up jerking her thumb behind her. “We’ll stop off at Purgatory before taking you to Udina.”

Shepard springs up, “I like you already, Ash.”

Williams regards her with a smirk and raised eyebrow, “Ash, huh? Could get used to that. What do I call you?”

“Jade is fine.”

“‘Jade?’” Williams repeats.

“It’s…” Shepard makes a face, “I have a weird given name. One of the reasons I’m grateful everyone in the Alliance is referred to by surname. The orphanage where I grew was obsessed with old school serials about space travel.”

“Okay, now I definitely need to know your name.”

At Williams’ eyebrow waggle, the redhead caves. “It’s Jadzia.” Williams blinks at her. “See? Weird, right?”

“I don’t know. Weird, yeah. But I also kinda like it. And you said you’re named after a serial character who space traveled? There’s a bit of irony in that.”

They arrive at Purgatory chatting like they’ve known each other for more than twenty minutes. The dossier said nothing about Shepard’s charismatic personality, but thankfully Captain Anderson told her the second she stepped out of Udina’s office. At first Ashley though – there goes her damn shore leave. Every assignment the brass sent her to Udina for had been a clusterfuck within a clusterfuck. But hanging out with Shepard—Jadzia (because there is no way she’s not calling her that)—doesn’t feel like an assignment. Meeting another badass female Alliance soldier who is being considered to become humanity’s first spectre!? Honestly, Ashley’s a bit happy she met Jadzia now, before the woman becomes a spectre. Not that it seems like the title’ll go to the redhead’s head.

Furthermore, Udina said to bring Jadzia to his office but he hadn’t given her a timeframe.

They sit at the bar with halfway decent booze and miniature foods swapping stories.

🔫 🔫

Udina irritably taps his fingers along his desk. Where the hell is Shepard? It’s been over an hour since he sent that soldier to find her! He should’ve known better than to get another Alliance soldier to find her! Particularly Williams. She probably beguiled them like she “charmed” that poor turian officer. Udina stops tapping so he can pick up the dossier of one Garrus Vakarian. Doesn’t seem to have an opinion one way or the other about humans on The Citadel. Or humans in general. Odd, considering his father fought in the First Contact War. He puts that dossier down then picks up Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams’ dossier. Why they always sent this mouthy soldier to him he’ll never know. Williams comes from a family of “proud,” Alliance navy humans who weren’t very lucky when it came to rank. In fact, the dossier (for some reason) states her grandfather was that General Williams; the first human to surrender to the turians at Shanxi in the First Contract War. Eldest of four children, two of her three younger sisters are also Alliance soldiers as ensigns.

Shepard’s dossier sits ominously at the corner of his desk by its lonesome. Admittedly, he hasn’t read the entire thing and he’s been a little apprehensive to do so. Once you read through Torfan in its entirety, it was a bit hard to register anything else.

There’s a knock on the door and it opens before Udina can do anything. “Ambassador Udina?” The unfamiliar man enters the office with his crisp N7 armor but what makes Udina stand at his desk is the very familiar man beside him.

“Admiral Hackett!” Udina clears his throat, putting on his best ambassador smile, “I-I wasn’t expecting you!”

“I figured I’d be the Alliance welcome party for Commander Shepard.” The smile slips off Udina’s face. “Where’s Captain Anderson?” Udina flat out scowls now. Anderson disappeared. Shepard was nowhere to be found. Nihlus took one look in the room and made an about face once he realized Anderson wasn’t here. Typical now of all times, the big man in the Alliance shows up and Udina is just here… standing like a jackass.

“I don’t know.” The few times Udina’s seen Hackett the man was expressionless. This time is no different.

“I see.” He looks around the office, “I don’t suppose you’d mind if we waited for the commander, do you?”

Udina plasters on his ambassador smile once more. “Not at all.”

Hackett nods, “Ambassador, this is Alec Ryder.” As the man walks over to Udina’s desk, Hackett takes a seat behind Anderson’s.

“Pleasure meeting you.” Udina says.

“And you as well, Ambassador.” The man goes to stand in parade rest in front of Anderson’s desk. Udina’s heard some interesting, vaguely disturbing rumors about Alec Ryder. An accomplished N7 soldier – so maybe that was why he was here greeting a fellow N7. (But Anderson was also N7 wasn’t he?) They say Ryder is estranged from his two children and that his wife was terminally ill and presently staying in Huerta; they also said he had unscrupulous methods for trying to find a cure for his wife’s illness. But rumors are …rumors, and Alliance soldiers like to talk – as Udina discovered. He’s been only the second human ambassador the Citadel’s ever had. Since his incumbency nine years ago, he’s seen fifteen turian, five asari, and three salarian ambassadors pass through these walls. (And he’s honestly lost count of how many volus. Not that he could truly tell them apart.)

Udina hadn’t realized he was still standing until Anderson and a blonde walk into the office chuckling. He goes to stand but then looks down realizing he hadn’t sat down since Hackett arrived.

“Admiral Hackett!” The blonde salutes.

“At ease, Lieutenant.” The blonde lowers her hand. “Captain.” Hackett inclines his head in greeting.

“Admiral.” Anderson returns the greeting.

“Captain Anderson, I—” The five of them turn to the doorway where a brunet is panting against the doorway. He straightens up then looks around, once his eyes land on Ryder he makes an abrupt about face exiting the office. Naturally, the other people in the office turn to Ryder whose expression has not changed.

“We seem to be missing the reason we’re all here.” Hackett says, after several seconds of awkward silence with the rest of them continuing to stare at the still expressionless Alec Ryder.

🔫 🔫

An empty glass hits the bar counter with a loud thunk. “Unbelievable…” The man at the bar mutters, gripping the bottom of the glass. “Can’t believe—! Just… s-standing there!”

“Whoa!” Fingers grab the man’s hand freeing the glass from his grip, “you break it, you buy it, Bartholomew.” He turns to the left seeing his twin sister, Bella, take a seat on the stool to his left hailing the bartender. “Ooh. I’ll have a chora rush.” The turian bartender nods and begins making the drink. “What’s got you so upset you’re drinking in Chora’s Den before noon?” The bartender raises a browplate at her, “it’s not the place! It’s my brother. He got food poisoning mixing levo and dextro drinks.”

“I still maintain that dextro foods can be eaten without killing humans.”

“Of course they can.” Bella pats Bart on the head, shaking her head at the bartender who nods in agreement. “Thanks.” The bartender sets her drink down, “I’m sure your three days of violently throwing up were just …a fluke.” Bart glares at his twin as she nonchalantly takes a sip of her drink.

“I saw dad.” Bart exhales deeply as Bella spits her drink in his face. Maybe he should’ve told her that when she wasn’t facing him?

“You what?!” She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, “you…ooh. Sorry. Uh, can I get a—” The turian bartender has a handful of napkins in his hand. “Thank you so much.” She angrily wipes off her twin’s face. “You saw dad? Our dad? Alec Joseph Ryder? Here!? What was he doing?”

“Alec Ryder things!” He takes a napkin and wipes his neck. “No contact in three months because of ‘Alliance Protocol’ then—” Bart snaps his fingers, “just on The Citadel and doesn’t even think of seeing mom?”

“He could’ve seen her?”

“This is dad we’re talking about, Bells. He didn’t visit mom at Huerta. I know he didn’t. I should take that asshole off the visitor's list.”

“It’s what he deserves and then some but… it’ll crush mom. We—” Bella clears her throat, “we don’t know how much longer she has left. We… We don’t want to upset her.” The twins stare at each other before sigh heavily.

“Dad was… with Admiral Hackett.” Bella raises an eyebrow, “ironic, isn’t it? I come in with the admiral’s battalion and dad is the one paling around him. He was just there, standing! Looked me right in the eye and didn’t say a damn thing. Not even a ‘hello.’ Or a ‘back from Arcturus, son? How are things?’” Bart groans, “not like people don’t already know we’re related.” He sighs, “what was I expecting? That wouldn't be dad at all. Dad’s …just being dad. I can’t fathom how a man with the personality of a frozen fish meal landed mom!” Bella cackles. “I’m serious! Opposites attracting studies proved to be bs! Mom’s so vibrant and personable! I bet she had everyone in the Alliance in love with her! Dad—Dad was never a charming person! And he damn sure isn’t personable. Not knocking him but I’m thankful we inherited mom’s looks.”

Bella shrugs taking a sip of her drink.

Bart eyes her waiting until she’s swallowed to speak again. “Are you on shore leave?”

“Yup. You?”

“Yup. Admiral Hackett wants us to greet that Spectre hopeful and observe history being made. Next eight days? I’m hitting Shiara’s and getting turbotoned.”

“Back up. What?”

“Oh. Right. The turbotone is—”

“No.” Bella shakes her head, “No. The first thing you said. Spectre hopeful?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. You probably haven’t heard being in Mars. There’s a Spectre hopeful on The Citadel and get this they’re human!” Bella gasps, “I was just as surprised! They are being eyed by The Council and a turian Spectre as we drink.”

“A human Spectre hopeful? Isn’t this happening a bit fast?”

“Wha—? I-I thought you’d be thrilled? You—You live for discoveries and breaking down barriers history put up!”

“I just… I got a funny feeling just hearing you mention it. And not a good funny feeling. Humanity isn’t ready for having a Spectre. They can barely build colonies that aren’t ‘Board-certified.’ This feels like a domino set up just to fall and cause a fifty-two domino set pickup!”

“I think you mixed up your analogies there but I understand your point. Man, it’s painful being your twin.” Bart sighs, “I-I didn’t see the Spectre. I was hoping to. When I saw Captain Anderson and Lieutenant Sanders going into the captain’s office I followed. That asshole Ambassador was there along with Admiral Hackett… and dad.” Bart clears his throat, “as… no doubt unprofessional as it was, when I saw dad I-I bolted.”

“I would’ve done the same.”

Bart laughs, “you? Oh, that’s rich. C’mon, Bell, you? You would’ve punched dad in the face before he tried to explain himself and then again when he did! Which would not be very ‘peacekeeping’ of you.” Bella rolls her eyes. Bart drums his fingers along the counter, “s-so… how… are things?”

Bella stares at her twin, “don’t make this awkward—”

“Too late.” The bartender says as he walks off.

“Sorry. I just… damn. I-I need some action!” There’s a loud gasp then a dish clattering. Everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at him. Bart clears his throat. Beside him, Bella chuckles. “I-I… oh man. No, I—There’s no recovery from this, is there?” Bella pats him on the shoulder taking a swig of her drink. The bartender shakes his head. Bart groans and eventually people lose interest and go back to what they’re doing. “Nothing interesting has happened to you? I stare at that damn mass relay all day. I swear the damned thing is mocking me. Doing patrols? I walk around the station listening to people badmouth dad. Worst part is I can’t even defend him because everything they say about him is true! Why does he have to be so… sketchy? I’m surprised they haven’t fired us from our jobs just for being related to him! Have you heard he’s been looking into talking to some quarians about obtaining geth-left tech?”

Bella punches Bart in the arm, “you goober, don’t go jinxing us! I like my job.”

“I know. I know! You’re surrounded by science and–” He wiggles his fingers, “whatever else you do…” Bella shakes her head with an eye roll. “Personally, I wouldn’t mind a change. Something where they don’t link us to dad.”

“That will not likely happen. We are stuck being cursed as the children of Alec Ryder! Sounds like a horror flick, don’t it?”

🔫 🔫

“I regret to inform you that your… welcome committee wasn’t enough to issue ‘a warning’ to the human Spectre hopeful.” An asari matriarch says into a holo with a turian in it. “She sent all of them to the infirmary without sustaining any injuries herself, nor did she do any lasting damage to her assailants. Officer Garrus Vakarian escorted her to the Council.”

“Hm. They say the lieutenant commander learned where to look for non-critical alien weak points from a krogan battlemaster. I figured it was... just a rumor but I see that one we can add to the ‘true enough’ pile. What else have your searches pulled up?”

“Some rather… conflicting information. According to all the records contained in the Alliance Navy database there is no history of any human throughout the Attican Traverse with the surname Shepard prior to 2173.”

“What?”

“There’s more. The ‘Lieutenant Commander Shepard’ in their database? The service record states no given name; simply the initial J.” The turian hums, tapping at his jaw. “Various facial recognition searches throughout the Attican Traverse, in the past ten years, have come up empty within the search parameters of the description we were given; even broadening the descriptors did nothing to yield results. It as if the lieutenant commander has ‘flown under the radar.’ No, it would be more accurate to say she was simply, seemingly fabricated to be the perfect sounding soldier. There is no mention of the term ‘family,’ and a rather… vague sounding description of her home planet of Earth. She was said to be ‘enlisted’ by Captain David Anderson and First Lieutenant Kahlee Sanders. Their names appear quite often in Shepard’s records.”

“Anderson.” The turian snarls. “I should have known. Wouldn’t be too out of character for him to invent the perfect soldier to do what he could not. What year again did you say Shepard first appeared?”

“Enlisted in the Alliance Navy in 2173. Placed in the N7 program in 2175. Graduated from the N7 program in 2176. Hmm… it appears as though Shepard was involved in the ‘Torfan’ situation in 2178.”

“‘Sacrificed human lives to free an inflated number of ‘helpless’ aliens from batarian clutches?’ Right?” The asari nods, “they called her ‘The Headsman of Torfan.’ She’s ruthless. Good. I wouldn’t want this disemboweling to be anything less.”

“What’s our next move?”

“Just continue with surveillance for now. I hear Nihlus is getting chummy with that human, and I don’t want to kill him. He’s advocating a human Spectre, if anything happens to him, he’ll be a martyr and more good turian soldiers will be brainwashed into thinking humans are worth a damn.”

“Keep Nihlus Kryik alive at all costs. Understood.”

“And dig deeper into the human’s history. There has to be something. Something the humans don’t want getting out. Nobody has no history outside of service history – of any species. It would be so typical of those… slithering insects to use a ‘nobody’ with all the characteristics they usually lack to further their agenda and bully into everything. We don’t know if she’s for real or not, but we’re going to find out. One more thing. Make sure you keep a close eye on Captain Anderson. I will not allow that human to get in my way a second time unscathed.”

🔫 🔫

“It’s called the ‘Andromeda Program.’” Hearing her father’s voice, Bella pauses mid-step, lowering the flowers in her hand and pressing herself against the hospital wall, peeking into her mother’s room. Alec is standing next to the bed Ellen is sitting on.

“And what is it, really?”

“A second chance. It’ll take us far away from here. Do what our ancestors did. Travel to far off places and explore the unknown but without ‘The Board’ breathing down our necks.” Alec grabs Ellen’s hands. “Perhaps we will find a place that’ll cure you.”

“Oh Alec. Always searching.” Ellen gently pulls her hands from Alec’s and grabs his face. “I’ve already made peace with my illness. I’ve lived a full life—”

“No. Ellen, I—” Alec drops his head onto Ellen’s shoulder, “I can’t… I don’t know what I’ll do without you. I’m—I’m not ready to lose you. A brilliant mind like yours has so much, much more to give. So much to learn from. This isn’t fair.”

Bella rolls her eyes. It is just like her father to make his wife’s illness all about him. Hearing enough, Bella walks into the hospital room. “Mom, I’m here! And I brought you flowers~”

“Bells, so good to see you!”

“Yeah, well I’m on shore leave so it’s only natural I’d visit you. I’m not some inconsiderate ass that puts your wellbeing on the backburner.” She shoots her father a dirty look and he frowns. “How you holding up, mom?”

“Better now that I see you.”

“Aw shucks, you sweet-talker you, you’re gonna make me blush.” She hands the flowers to her mother, “the flowerist assured me they’re 93% real and they won’t aggravate your sinuses or anything!”

“How thoughtful of you, Bellatrix.”

“You raised a thoughtful young woman.”

“And a forgiving one.” Ellen adds.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“It would make me feel a ton better if you and your father were to talk.”

Bella narrows her eyes. “That’s low.” Ellen gives a one-shoulder shrug. “I’d talk… but there’s no guarantee he’d listen.” Bella sighs, “and because I don’t want to upset you, I’m afraid I will have to respectfully decline your request.” Ellen nods furrowing her eyebrows, “I’ll come back later. I’ll sneak in some snacks.”

As their daughter leaves, Ellen turns to her husband. “You aren’t even going to try, are you?”

“You know how stubborn Bellatrix is.”

“That—” Ellen shakes her head, “you… you’d defy the very Alliance regulations that you believe in your core and fly in the face of the maker himself when it comes to me, but you won’t even bother attempting to open your damn mouth when it comes to our children? Would it kill you to try forming a relationship with them?”

“Take it easy, Ellen.”

“‘Take it easy?’ How can I? They hate you, Alec.”

“They have every reason to hate me. I’m a horrible father. Those kids don’t need me, Ellen, they need you. If I could trade your life for mine I would do so in a heartbeat.”

“But you can’t and that is no excuse.”

“Don’t get yourself overworked.”

Ellen pinches the bridge of her nose, “you need to leave then.”

“Ellen—”

“No, Alec. You’re giving me a headache. I don’t want to see you unless you’ve had a proper conversation with our kids.”
- 1
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In Heat Sinks, We Trust