11 Councilor Anderson

-->  That went better than I could have possibly hoped for. Not only did Anderson lend me an open ear and let me go afterward, he even insisted the Council officially reinstate my Spectre status. The other Councillors complied on the condition that I maintain a low profile and don't stir things up.

Apparently, Sovereign has officially been declared a Geth Dreadnought, and the Reapers dismissed as a myth. The Council has exerted all their influence to quell as thoroughly as possible the rumours of Sovereign being only the first of many, and are afraid I’ll raise hue and cry and upset their peaceful delusions of security. Fools. We thwarted the Reapers first attempt, but they will come eventually, and when they do, we need to be ready for them. Plugging our ears and singing a song of denial will not save us.

Anderson listened to every word I said with studious attention. I told him everything. How Cerberus revived me, of my meeting with The Illusive Man, my findings on Freedom’s Progress, my plans to assemble an independent team to fight the Collectors, my doubts about my own freedom of thought, the recreation of the Normandy and suspicions of security leaks in the Alliance, and my intention to report back to Admiral Hackett as soon as the Collector threat had been dealt with. Anderson never said he disbelieved me, but neither did he commit to anything, divulged no classified information. I asked after Ashley before I could stop myself, but he declined to tell me anything, only that she is alive and well.

I cannot read my old Captain’s thoughts, but I assume he is consciously and deliberately suspending judgement. He has no conclusive proof one way or another about my authenticity or wholeness of mind. He has apparently decided to watch and wait, to give me a chance to prove myself one way or the other. That’s all I can ask, and more than I could have hoped for.

I can, at least, remove one gnawing doubt from my extensive list of cares and worries. I insisted, before I left, that C-Sec have me examined for suspicious implants. Despite my fears, suggesting the examination, even submitting to restraints, triggered no failsafe. The results confirm that I do have extensive implants to facilitate and augment my recovery, but, so far as the doctors can tell, neither I nor Garrus (who underwent emergency surgery in the Normandy) have any implants that could control our thoughts or actions, nor anything resembling a kill-switch. The Normandy is still suspect, and circumstance still shackles us to this course, but our own minds are clear and free. And if Cerberus didn’t chain either Garrus or me, chances are Joker and Chakwas are also safe.

This weight being lifted means more than I can say. I now feel twice as strong, as though the whole galaxy couldn’t stop me. Nearly giddy with relief, I’m now off for to assemble an army. The Collectors won't know what hit them.

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