Part 1
The communicator beeped on Anderson's desk. He sighed and gave one last look to his balcony overlooking the best of the Presidium. It had taken them nearly two years to rebuild what had taken less than twenty minutes for a single Reaper to demolish. And he was still dealing with the fallout everyday.
Anderson approached the console, prepared to face yet another angry diplomat with some obscure specie's agenda and a complaint list several pages long. He frowned when he saw the encrypted identity. It wasn't unheard of for diplomats to send in messages on a secured channel, but hiding the identity wasn't typical.
"Anderson here," he answered.
A holographic image rose from the console. A well groomed man in a sharply tailored gray suite appeared. The holographic figure smiled, tight and thin. He looked like no diplomat Anderson had ever seen.
"Ah, Captain Anderson. My name is… Well, you can call me The Illusive Man. We need to talk. Regarding Shepard… your protege."
The name clicked in Anderson's memory. He clenched his teeth. This was the man who he had yet to make answer for what happened to Kaylee. This was the man responsible for the Ascension project.
"You criminal! I have nothing to say to you."
"Good, then I won't have further interruptions. I think you'll be very interested to know, I've sent Shepard through the Omega Relay."
"But… no one comes back from that relay!"
The man who called himself T.I.M smirked. "I know."
"That was your goal all along? Bring back Shepard back to life and then send the Commander off on a suicide mission?"
The Illusive Man remained impassive. "As you well know. Shepard's the best of the best. But even a big damn hero doesn't have a chance at returning from the relay… without my help."
Anderson snarled. "You won't get away with this."
"On the contrary, I think you'll find that I will. But perhaps we can… help each other out. We both know you have something I want. Very much."
"I have nothing you could possible need."
"Not what I need. WANT. From you. Very much."
"What are you talking about? Stop talking in riddles!"
T.I.M. smiled, a look of almost tenderness on his face. "Ever the belligerent, Captain."
"That's Councilor to you," Anderson growled.
The smile on T.I.M.'s face grew wider. "Is it hot in there, Councilor? I think you should take off your uniform."
Anderson frowned, completely confused. "What? Is this conversation a joke to you? Because I don't find the joke very funny."
T.I.M. covered his mouth with a hand. "I assume you're running a trace on this, yes?" He glanced down on his console. "And you'll need two more minutes by my calculations to place the call IP. You won't find me here, of course. But it'll give you a lead, or so you think, as to my real identity and location."