It was half past ten. Nihlus had already searched two abandoned buildings for ‘meeting room eight’ and was running out of patience. Not that he’d been in any sort of patient mood even before setting out; he simply couldn’t believe that Saren had upped and left him to handle the evaluation just like that. Was he out of his twisted mind? He’d been acting strange ever since that fallout they had over cleaning the ship, of all things. Like an old married couple.
Garrus observed the two Spectres with a keen eye. He was excited. No: ecstatic! This was the day. Spirits of the Skies, this had to be the day. He tried to tower over the others, if not in height, then in determination. A good officer could sense that, smell that. And Saren was nothing if not a good officer – if you can consider a Spectre as such. The most decorated turian in the service of the Council ever! And he was here to personally pick a candidate. It was almost surreal.
Nihlus went two steps in front of Saren. That was the appropriate order of things. They were not yet equals. Nihlus often wondered if they ever would be, even once he was appointed as a Spectre. That was supposed to be a matter of formality now, but still. Nothing was certain with Saren.
Nihlus is near the end of his training with Saren when they are sent to evaluate potential Spectre candidates. Garrus is one of them and he is determined to leave an impression despite his father’s wishes. A sharp-edged triangle forms and cuts deep.
Continue reading The CandidateCount the phases thus: the Big Moon wanes, then the Small Moon wanes, until there’s nothing but blackness. That’s when Suthay is born: in the blind of the night, when it’s good to hide. Perhaps that is why Footpad decided to put the key to all doors inside Suthay after he stole it from the Night Mistress. He told the Clans to keep it a secret and for many phases, we did. In the end, it got away on a whisper, or a fleeting scent. It flew with the night wind and entered the ear of our enemy.