As the boardroom doors opened, Admiral Hackett turned around to find James Vega walk in and salute him.
"Admiral."
"At ease, Commander. I trust you've looked over the intel I passed on to you from the STG – courtesy our man in the council Spectre agency – concerning violent uprisings on the batarian homeworld."
James nodded. "I have, and I sent Alliance Command my analysis in a report. I just… didn't see how it involved us, though." He shrugged. "Seemed like it was purely a council matter."
"Well as you know," Hackett began, "human relations with the batarian people has been… problematic, at best, ever since our expansion through the galaxy. The late Batarian Hegemony identified the Alliance as a terrorist group, and saw our involvement in any of their affairs as a sign of aggression. In the first wave of uprisings on their planet since the war, it appeared as if the batarian people had finally gotten fed up with them and overthrew the Hegemony for good with a new governing body – called: Batarian People's League. Now, we fear the Hegemony and their supporters may be back and are behind these recent rebellions on Khar'Shan one year later. Worse, they may even be close to reclaiming what they've lost."
"So that's what this is about," said James.
"Perhaps they've come back stronger," Hackett supposed. "Or perhaps the people have already given up on the new regime."
"Bad news for us either way, though."
"Exactly. If their old leadership returns, we can just about write off any hope of peaceful relations with their society."
"So what's the council going to do about it?" James inquired.
"Officially," Hackett explained, "it's not the council's place to intervene in the political affairs of another race, so long as their politics do not involve another council-recognized government – and this new regime didn't make any effort to get council approval. However, nobody wants to see another Hegemony rise to power. So recently, they assigned Major Alenko – who still retains his Spectre status – on a covert mission to Khar'Shan. There, he'll assess the situation personally and report all relevant findings back to them."
"But this is an Alliance initiative as much as a Spectre operation, and Major Alenko is going to need a good team behind him. You're N7 now. When the Alliance needs results, we call on our very best, so we're assigning you to the Normandy with him as second-in-command."
His jaw dropping, James gasped in astonishment before he recovered the right-of-mind to close his gaping mouth.
"Given your service history, recent promotion, and N7 graduation, we just think this move makes all too much sense. As a Spectre, it's ultimately Major Alenko's decision to make, but I've talked to him and he's agreed to this arrangement. It's just a matter of making it official."
His excitement now tightly concealed, James nodded, and replied: "Aye aye, Admiral!"
"Nothing more, LC. Report to your post; I'll have the necessary documentation sent to your desk right away."
James cleared his throat. "Admiral," he said, "if you don't mind, I've got a few questions I'd like to ask about this mission. And, I had some things on my mind when I looked over the intel you sent me."
"Let's hear it, then."
"Admiral, even without the Hegemony in charge, won't the mere sight of Alliance still be seen as an act of war?"
"If our read on the situation is accurate," Hackett replied, "they're too busy fighting among themselves to worry about small teams of outsiders, and the reports indicate that any non-batarian will meet about the same response from either warring faction – Alliance, human, or otherwise."
"Is there anyone between these factions that might be willing to offer us support in our mission?" asked James.
Admiral Hackett shook his head. "Neither side in this conflict appears interested in outside help," he answered.
"What?" James responded. "Why?"
"Batarians seem to have a long memory," Hackett explained. "When we expanded through the galaxy so many years ago and founded colonies on planets they believed were rightfully theirs, the batarians petitioned the council, only for the council to ultimately side with us. Khar'Shan has been a rogue state ever since, and their people's distrust of the council and Alliance alike is deep-rooted. Hell, this regime that toppled the Hegemony declared they would not rejoin the council, and the people only seemed to expressly support this central policy. It's the one thing they all seem to agree on. So no, do not expect any support from the locals."
"About this new regime of theirs," James commented, "STG had a lot of intelligence on the rebel forces, but hardly anything on this Batarian People's League. What's up with that?"
Said Hackett: "The resistance had success pushing the League's influence out of many state governments, but the League has its headquarters on a remote island state, and despite their best efforts, the resistance cannot seem to even make a dent in their hold over this key location. It was bizarre that their government situated themselves on an island of little historical significance, but perhaps they knew what they were doing, since no one can seem to conquer them there. It's said that the bulk of the League's forces are protecting this base, and the resistance movement just can't topple them. Apart from clashes with the resistance, the League isn't showing themselves much at all outside the capital or in states that still back them. And it seems the closer anyone gets to their seat of power, the casualty or M.I.A. rate seems to get exponentially larger - beyond a certain point, flat-out no one comes back at all."
"Holy hell," James responded. "So how does the council expect us to find what the salarians couldn't? STG is the galaxy's elite in espionage."
"STG had a few leads that they simply could not commit their agents to due to a lack of firepower and resources. Our hope is that the squad we're sending in will be equipped to do what they could not."
"And what are our objectives?" James asked.
"You and Major Alenko will have to figure that out amongst yourselves," Hackett responded. "Spectre authority supersedes my own. I trust you'll both have Alliance interests in mind though, when you do. For the time being, it seems that the Alliance and council want the same thing: no Hegemony in Khar'Shan."
"Understood, Admiral. No more questions."
"Then you'd better get to it, Commander. Good luck."
James stood up straight and saluted the admiral before making his way out of the boardroom. Once the doors shut behind him, James grinned and danced a jig.
Nostalgic, her thin, blue fingers ran gently across the glass of a picture frame with an image of the Normandy SR2 in all her splendor. She had many other frames and many photo albums full of pictures from her time serving aboard the ship (many of them courtesy Glyph, her VI info-drone), but this one picture encapsulated everything for her: all the feelings, the memories…
These days, Liara lived in a two-bedroom detached house in Greece – in fair condition, considering the damage from the war that took place across Earth not a year ago – where she was accompanied by a close friend of hers. Whether she liked it or not, though, Liara's information-agency and -brokerage still had an important job to do in these… unusual times, forcing her to spend the better part of her days at work. Soon after settling in this location about eight months ago, she and a handful of her agents "adopted" an abandoned water-treatment facility out on the coast and set up a covert base-of-operations inside. They repurposed the station's monitoring room as an information-center at the heart of the facility, and arranged for the government to award rights to the location to an affiliated private firm, which ran and maintained the plant – helping her avoid any suspicion. After sacrificing the Shadow Broker's old cruiser to take out a team of Cerberus raiders during the war, her information-brokerage had never established another official headquarters. Sadly, this was it, for the time being.
At times, Liara left her station to go out for a bit and get a much-needed breath of fresh air. Humans had a word in their language that she felt perfectly described this country and its sights to see: "breathtaking." Its ruins – most of which had miraculously stayed upright through the war – were marvelous, reminding her a bit of her days exploring remnants of Prothean civilization as an archaeologist. After a while, however, these strolls became more and more difficult to bear – reminding her of the culture and civilization the asari had lost.
Thessia was obliterated in the war, barely even habitable for a sapient species. Liara had kept an ear to the ground about developments on Thessia through her agency, and the outlook remained bleak almost a year later. She felt guilty staying on Earth while her people and her homeworld both needed help and she vowed to remain here no longer than a year. But with the state their planet was in, she couldn't bring herself to go back, and she knew she wasn't ready for it either. After having witnessed the planet's invasion during the war, what would come over her if she went back and saw all the destruction again first-hand? In just less than a week, however, that year would be up.
Perhaps there was a way yet to make good on her personal vow without putting herself through that: Major Alenko's offer to join him on another mission for the Normandy. Staring at the ship again in the comfort of her house, she realized now what she missed the most in her life: a place to call "home." Thessia in ruins, spending so much of her time in a dreary station, on a planet she was not native to and in a land that served as a sad reminder of everything her people had lost, Liara was utterly displaced by the end of the war after the team broke up. But the Normandy, it was a sanctuary for her when she was on the run from a rogue Spectre five years ago, and it kept her safe among company she valued dearly during the past war.
Liara placed the picture frame back in its spot on the mantle and opened a comm-line for Major Alenko. "Kaidan…"
The asari, he thought, so sentimental. She does not realize what she has. At least she could still live on her homeworld again, however devastated it may be. He could not say the same, himself; his homeworld died with his people over 50,000 years ago. Though Liara could irritate him at times, he valued her company here, for he would otherwise have none at all.
Javik sat in the living-room - where Liara was standing nearby, making a call over her omnitool - staring out the window with all four eyes wide-open, asking himself this question for the three-hundred-fifty-ninth consecutive day: how did the Reapers survive the war?
He ran every possible scenario in his head that he could imagine, and just could not fathom how it led them here. Javik was one of the last people to see Commander Shepard alive before the war ended. It was him, Shepard, and the Kaidan human running for the Citadel transport-beam before Javik was badly wounded from a nearby explosion. In no condition to fight, Shepard sent Javik back to the ship against his protests. What happened next was a mystery. It was initially reported that Shepard and the rest of Hammer squad were wiped out by the Reaper Harbinger (now known by its real name: Leviathan), but later it was discovered that two soldiers managed to survive and made it to the Citadel, and their identities were confirmed among the Alliance as Admiral Anderson and Commander Shepard.
Was this all the commander's doing, or was the Crucible simply faulty? He'd have otherwise supported the concept of organics evolving to the level where they equaled their synthetic counterparts technological prowess, but not like this. When Javik declared that those who shared his goal (to eliminate the Reapers) were allies, and those who didn't would be casualties, Shepard agreed with him. Lies were easy to detect, but he sensed full commitment from the commander to this cause. In fact, he believed Shepard to be one of the few primitives who truly understood.
But a few things continued to fill Javik with doubt. Shepard did not otherwise share his beliefs about the danger of machine intelligence. He had an AI called "EDI" aboard his ship, which he treated and trusted as he would any other crew member, not merely the suspect machinery that it was. Shepard had also fought "geth" machines that had twice allied themselves with Reapers, yet he befriended one calling itself "Legion." And when the quarians went to war to retake their planet from these machines, Shepard helped them, even upgraded them to ensure their safety against the quarians.
Javik questioned the wisdom of empowering these geth, and using this to broker a truce on Rannoch between them and the quarians, but the commander assured him it was all to strengthen their forces for the war, and Javik accepted his decisions because he'd proven himself a capable warrior. But now, those decisions left him with one burning question: would Shepard broker such a truce between galaxy and Reapers? Surely, Javik thought, if such an option were offered to him, Shepard would finally realize his and the quarians' mistrust of machines and choose victory for organic life.
And then, there was the Echo Shard: an artifact passed down over generations of soldiers, the Shard contained the memories of all who held it before him – some of better days, but many of his cycle's tragic end. Shepard talked him into activating the relic and reliving these old memories, and though it proved a painful experience, it also made Javik remember what was most important to him in his fight – the memory of his people. This, however, left him in an uncomfortable position with the Reapers, for it would be revealed shortly after the war ended that they themselves were synthetic keepers of ancient civilizations' memories.
Just days after The Battle of Earth and the war's subsequent end, Javik was contacted by someone calling themselves Enduromi. Impossible! This species was of Javik's cycle, and it was destroyed by the Reapers. It was then discovered that Enduromi was, in fact, the name of the Reaper that preserved this species' cultural-memory and identified itself as such. Javik was loath to reach out to a Reaper and rejected its request, but the offer still stood until he could no longer bear his curiosity. Ultimately, Javik had Liara inquire more on his behalf. Enduromi revealed that the Reapers had learned of the previous cycle's sole-survivor in Javik through extranet news channels, and those created by the species of his cycle reached out to him through this single messenger.
Enduromi wished to exchange more information with Javik personally, but he would have no more. Still, to think of the Reapers in this light made Javik see their kind differently. He still didn't trust them. He was certain they and the geth would soon turn on organics, as it was always in the nature of machines to find reasons to kill them, yet this slight-but-significant change in his view of the Reapers troubled him – such a thing could only be Shepard's doing.
It would have been so much simpler had the Crucible eliminated the Reapers, as he always concluded.
This was a topic that brought him only feelings of bitterness and spite, yet that's precisely why he occupied himself with so much time thinking about it. To hate, to have enemies, this felt right to him. Being a soldier was all Javik knew. He was born in the final stages of a cycle, and like all other Prothean youth, his life was dedicated by necessity to helping his people fight their war. Upon witnessing the end of the "cycles" as a member of the next civilization, Javik's adjustment to "civilian life" was every bit the same struggle as accepting the war's outcome, or adjusting to a galaxy ruled by primitives.
When Javik was not busy thinking unhappy thoughts, the very blood in his veins raged against the monotony of this new lifestyle. He often snapped at Liara, and she was maddeningly patient and understanding in response to him. On his better days, he would accompany Liara to these ruins she loved so much. Such a waste of time. Those humans were dead now. She should be focused on the future now that this cycle has secured it (perhaps stocking up on armaments for the Reapers' inevitable betrayal), not admiring the remains of civilizations that were weak, that withered, and died. Javik would never understand these primitives.
Liara finished talking and deactivated her handheld-device. A few days ago, the Kaidan human he had served with during the war contacted him and the asari, offering them both a place on the ship again to take part in a mission on the batarians' planet. He was a bit surprised that the human leaders named this Kaidan the new captain of Shepard's ship. Javik was not convinced he was qualified for such a role. However, the chance to take up the rifle again felt like precisely what he needed in the midst of this nonsensical "peace," at least until the synthetics finally turned on them again. And with Liara now committing, Javik would truly have nothing left were he to stay here.
Liara walked over to him. "Have you made up your mind yet?" she asked him.
"I have," he replied tersely. Liara smiled a bit, but asked nothing more and left the room.
Javik tapped into a secure comm-channel to contact the major. If there was one positive thing Javik could say about the end of the war, it was that the primitives' communication technology had improved to a level comparable to that of his cycle's. A few moments later, the Kaidan human was on the line with him.
In his thick Prothean accent, he responded, "May-jah, …"
Slowly, the automated window shades separated, gently allowing sunlight into bedroom.
"Almost 12 o'clock noon, babe…" came the voice from her bedside table.
"mmm…" she groaned in response. "… long night…"
"Jack…" the voice sounded again. "You can't live like this. Drinking through the night, locked away in your little hole…" Not this again, she thought, turning away from him. "I brought everyone here a month ago to show you. They've moved on, and they're back out there, living life. You should be, too." Sparing herself another word, Jack rolled out of bed groggily and headed for the bathroom, one of the few places in her apartment "Shepard" could not access.
In an unusual turn of events, Jack had reunited with her late lover, the famed hero of the Reaper War: Commander Shepard. It was unclear how he died – though there were countless legends and conspiracy theories surrounding his death – but Jack had received something of his that his omnitool sent to send hers if he had fallen in what they now called The Battle of Earth: a journal, one that he had started and maintained since his days as a Spectre. He wrote at length and in great detail about his exploits, and moments in his life that he believed "defined" him, up until his last entry on the eve of the war's final battle.
However, a copy of this journal had also landed in the hands of a master-thief and tech-expert, who had the file reconstructed as a new device and sent it to Jack as an anonymous "gift." Jack activated this machine to find it was a full-fledged AI of the late Commander Rashad Shepard, with a stunningly accurate personality of the man himself. It was an overwhelming first experience, but she eventually continued to interact with this uncanny synthetic entity, gradually accepting its place in her life. Over time, her talks with it helped her make peace with the grief of losing him in the past war.
The AI challenged her beliefs, claiming he was the same Shepard who had died with the first Normandy and died in the war, saying that his sentience combined with the summation of his most important past beliefs and memories had brought him here again. Jack rejected this, believing some collection of memories was not enough to bring someone back, only to possibly create a really convincing actor. Shepard would continue to dispute it, bringing up philosophies of consciousness that supported his beliefs like "the problem of other minds," and also using the example of Project Lazarus to point out that its resulting product may have been an actor as well. He also argued that the loss of certain memories made him no less himself than those suffering amnesia were still themselves.
At times, he could have almost convinced her, and the state of the galaxy right now was definitely weird enough to make her think it was perhaps possible. When it came down to it, resurrection-by-diary stretched the limits of what Jack could believe, and she was perfectly content with her gift-AI being little more than a sentient and sapient manifestation of Shepard's old memoir. Though the old, "real" Shepard had died to her on Earth, there was a place in her life for this ghost of the past. Stranger things were happening around her every day, anyway.
Jack ended up editing Shepard's journal – running it by the Alliance and council to remove any information they deemed sensitive – and published it over the extranet as an e-book. Sales were off-the-charts from day one, as critics and fanatics alike swarmed the extranet to buy themselves a copy of the account. Overnight, Jack had become a millionaire. Sharing something of great personal value to her with the rest of the world was no small matter, but Jack retained the authentic version of his journal, and another copy that walked and talked. However, while financially "set," Jack's live-in AI partner was worried about her resulting complacency. He pushed for her to get out of the apartment and live a healthier lifestyle. In those moments, it really did remind her of Shepard, what with his concern and sage advice.
Half-dressed, Jack got out of the bathroom and walked over to her kitchen. She cracked a couple eggs in a bowl and threw in some shreds of cheddar cheese, and then poured them in a pan on the already pre-heated stove. She then put a couple slices of whole-grain wheat bread in her toaster and watched as they sank inside. Shepard lacked a mobile-platform, but after undertaking a little project to "upgrade" Jack's apartment with new, high-tech appliances and machines, he found clever ways to move around the house as software. By regulating the exact temperatures of the stove and toaster, Shepard could "cook" her eggs sunny-side-up and make toasts for breakfast to her liking. It was perfect every time, where Jack would otherwise overcook and burn them while leaving to check her e-mail. And by the time it was all done, her coffeemaker was waiting with a fresh, hot espresso.
"Thanks babe," said Jack, gathering her food and drink for the morning. She walked to the living-room beside her kitchen and set down her things on the coffeetable, reaching for the remote. She pressed the "power" button, to no effect. Jack sighed.
"Shepard," she said, mildly irate.
"Jack," he said with his face appearing on the TV screen in front of her. "You've been avoided this long enough now. We need to talk." Jack shook her head.
"No we don't," Jack shot back. "It's my life, and I can live it how I want. Sorry, Shepard, but you stopped having any say in it when you died on Earth."
"Jack," Shepard said again. "Listen. If you don't want to talk, fine, but just let me say one thing before you tune me out…"
"I can see how you've been trying to fill the void in your life since the war ended. You may feel content to spending your days playing video-games all day and drinking booze all night, but sooner or later, the reality is going to sink in when you'll realize how alone and unfulfilled you really are right now. I know you're unsure about it, but I really think the opportunity Kaidan offered you will be worthwhile. You'll do some meaningful work again, and you might even have some fun at that, just like old times. Just… think about it, okay?"
Shepard's image vanished in favor of the regular programming on Biotiball Network, but Jack wasn't able to pay it much attention. He had a point. All of this stuff was getting old, but she just didn't know what else she wanted to do with herself right now. Kahlee offered to reinstate her at Grissom Academy, which would be opening again in about five months, but Jack wasn't sure if she wanted to go back after losing some of her students to the war. Jack also wasn't sure about this new Normandy mission either. She barely knew who Kaidan was, she wasn't sure how she'd handle being aboard the Normandy again, and there was always the risk of dying and shit. But then, what did she have to lose, really? The more she thought about it, the more a change-of-pace sounded good to her.
What the hell, she thought. Jack sighed and activated her omnitool, opening a secure channel for Alliance Command.
"Hey. Yeah…"
" – *pshh!* – You humans have no concept! – *pshh!* – letting the market, letting demand, dictate value? – *pshh!* – Preposterous! – *pshh!* Value isn't some magical force, it just… – *pshh!* – … is."
"It's more than you'll end up with if you turn down our offer," Admiral Hackett responded over the comm-line, more than a little annoyed.
"– *pshh!* – I have gauged my value correctly – *pshh!* – and I feel no pressure to accept this insulting offer for less! – *pshh!* – I got to where I am but letting other fools overpay - *pshh!* - while selling themselves short, – *pshh!* – but my valuations always hold true."
"Your valuation is insane," Hackett responded. "I can hire a platoon of Talon mercenaries for five million credits."
"- *pshh!* Then why are we still talking?" asked the volus wryly. "Aside from, of course, *pshh!* the fact that mercenary scum will not follow orders so easily, *pshh!* and the fact that I am still a much better bang for your cred? *pshh!* I do not remember any such mercenary teams *pshh!* clearing your firebase in Vancouver from the odd group of Collector enemies. *pshh!* I was there, *pshh!* as were a trio of randomly-assigned grunts *pshh!* who were so unskilled that their presence actually did more harm than good! *pshh!* I should have put escalators in my contract for knocked-out allies… *pshh!*"
Doing more with less, as Hackett had told Commander Vega. His asking-price was a bit outrageous, but the volus had a point. Given his proven results with the N7 spec-ops team, he alone truly was worth a platoon of mercenaries, and he'd be less trouble altogether.
"Then we'll do three million," Hackett countered, feeling sweat forming around his forehead, "and you'll get the remaining two as credit purely for all equipment needs as you wanted, but that's our FINAL offer."
A long, agonizing pause followed from the volus's end of the line…
"…*pshh!* Done deal." said Ninju Mats. "A pleasure doing business, Earth-clan…"
Hackett cut the line without responding.
[SSV Normandy Roster –
Major Kaidan Alenko: Captain.
Commander James Vega: 2IC.
Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau: Helmsman.
Lieutenant Greg Adams: Chief Engineer.
Doctor Karin Chakwas: Chief Medical Officer.
Crew Size: Standard (30 Alliance personnel).
Artificial Intelligence equipped? Yes – Enhanced Defense Intelligence (E.D.I.)
Squad: Alenko (XO), Vega (XO), EDI (mobile platform), Liara T'Soni, Jack Shepard, Ninju Mats, Javik, _.]
On paper, he thought, that's a good looking team. However, James had advised a minimum of eight recruits for their fireteam, which meant there was one more spot to fill. As it happened, Kaidan had someone in mind. So he tapped the extranet to set up a secure channel for Miranda Lawson. With Kaidan's successful showing at Rio, their project research cell was disbanded, so she was more than likely free these days.
Back at her apartment, Miranda's omnitool alerted her to an incoming comm-signal while she browsed the extranet for apparel. Miranda rerouted the signal to a mental nexus with herself while she continued shopping in real-space.
"Yes?" she responded shortly over virtual-space, while typing a new search-query outside of it.
A reply came back to her as audio. "Miranda! Hey," Miranda's hands froze over the keyboard that instant. She recognized that voice. "It's Kaidan…"
"Oh!" she replied. Her full attention now focused on this call, Miranda turned away from the computer and rerouted the comm-signal back to her omnitool, switching communication over to verbal means. Though it may have been less expedient than the newer style of communication, there was still a place for plain, old-fashioned talk in this world. "… Hello, Kaidan."
"How's it going?" he asked.
"Good," she replied. "I've been having a relaxing 'leave thus far; nothing as exciting as what you're up to, I imagine."
Kaidan chucked a bit, sheepishly. "You could say that. Actually, that's, uh, part of the reason I'm calling you."
"Go ahead," she said.
"Yeah, so, the council has tasked me with something under a Spectre operation, though the Alliance was also involved in getting this in motion. We're looking into some sort of 'political crisis' in Khar'Shan, and I need a good team behind me when I go there, so I thought about having you accompany us on the Normandy. I thought… you've served aboard her just two years ago, you're experienced in these kinds of operations between both the Alliance and Cerberus, and I know Shepard thought really highly of you."
"So… would you be interested?" he finally asked.
A bit overwhelmed, Miranda replied: "Hmm. 'Sounds like you've got a messy situation on your hands there."
On the other end, Kaidan feared a rejection coming, but remained hopeful. "Maybe," he said. "I'm not saying it won't be potentially dangerous, of course – this is council Spectre work, after all. But we're looking to help the council avoid drastic measures, not take them."
"I'm surprised," she said. "It's been a year and the council still hasn't sorted itself out. I imagine losing the Citadel complicated things, but you'd think they'd have settled the issue of open seats for asari and salarian councilors. I'm glad they're keeping an eye on developments elsewhere, but, what's going on?"
"From what I heard, they were thinking of reforming their structure to include other species – perhaps even all of them," said Kaidan. "However, there's also this growing sentiment that the council is an outdated institution that we should move past altogether, especially with the Citadel destroyed and no plans to rebuild them almost a year later."
"As for the asari and salarian stand-ins, well, I know there's a schism within the Salarian Union right now that has delayed them. While their planet's in good shape, most of the galaxy also hates that they didn't pull their weight in the war. One side is focused on making nice with the rest of the galaxy again, and with most other civilizations focused on rebuilding, they don't want to 'rock the boat.' However, the other side believes they need to get ahead now with the new wave of technology, and as a whole, the 'Union has yet to come to an agreement on a new councilor."
"Interesting," said Miranda. "What about the asari – too devastated by the war?"
"Devastated," Kaidan confirmed, "and disgraced, for hiding Prothean information that could have spared all of us a lot of pain. No effort has been made on their end to name a new councilor with so many problems back on Thessia. I heard it's been rough for their stand-in councilor, though. To win back support she's had to, uh… spend a lot of time on her knees."
Though Kaidan's tone was morose, Miranda couldn't help but grin a little. "How the mighty have fallen, as they say?"
"Yeah," said Kaidan, who still couldn't help but notice a lack of any clear "yes" or "no" answer from her.
"I'd love to serve aboard the Normandy again," Miranda said sincerely. "I'd just like a few more details before I commit to it."
Well, that's something, he thought. Kaidan blew out a steady gust of air in anxiety. "Fair enough."
"Who's your second-in-command?" she inquired.
"That would be Commander James Vega," Kaidan answered, suppressing his amusement over James's new title.
"Ooh," Miranda responded. "I've heard about him. He just graduated N7, I believe. Following Shepard's footsteps, perhaps?"
"Err, maybe…" he responded uncomfortably.
"Are you looking to fill an administrative role, or something else?"
"Officially," said Kaidan, scratching the back of his neck, "just a spot on the fireteam. We're all staffed out at this point, save for an open spot on our squad." That having been said, Kaidan was pretty sure Miranda would not sign on just to be a mere grunt in his goon-squad. "… but, I know you'd be valuable to our team in many other ways. James and I will be doing the mission planning, but I could definitely use your insight with that as well. You and Shepard got Cerberus through the Omega-4 relay, for Pete's sakes."
While Kaidan was growing anxious on one end, Miranda on the other end felt the smile on her face widening a bit.
"And who else will be joining your fireteam?"
"It's mostly the same team that was on her for the war: James, Liara, the Prothean…. You know, best of the best."
"What are your mission objectives?" she asked. "Is there any timeframe for your mission?"
"We're going to investigate the situation on the planet for ourselves, as well as a couple leads STG left behind that they didn't have the resources to look into themselves, and then report everything back to the council and Alliance command. Beyond that, though? Hard to say. It depends on what we find there, and what the council wants from us after that. In truth, it doesn't seem like they want to take much action here at all, and that our team's investigation is mainly a precaution."
"And, what is your personal stake in all of this, Major?" she asked him.
Kaidan opened his mouth to speak, but was at a loss for words. Damn, he thought, good question. And one he didn't know to expect from her. He sure hadn't given it much thought, himself.
"Well," he began, "I… have a duty to the Alliance, and that's to serve and protect humanity. I'd say that's my cause, has been ever since I enlisted. And, as a Spectre, I want to use my position to the same end – not just for us, but for the other races as well. We all play a part in the galactic-community as a whole, and I want to do my part to make humanity's example an exceptional one."
"Hmm…" Miranda responded, getting up from her desk and peering out the office window while still on the line. Earth bore the scars of battle just about everywhere, the smoke only just clearing up in most areas. Ever the busybody, Miranda was involved in the Alliance's recovery efforts until they moved her to the labs a few months ago. It was an intriguing offer, to travel off-planet undertaking a mission with both human interests and galactic political concerns at stake.
Over the past year and a half working for them, Miranda had found that the Alliance wasn't as bad as she had believed as a longtime Cerberus operative. However, apart from some corner-cutting during the war, their notoriety as a bureaucratic quagmire held very much true. In that, Cerberus could not have been more different; they used to operate outside council jurisdiction, allowing them to move swiftly and affording them great freedom in pursuing their goals. However, this structure of unaccountability would be their downfall when their leadership grew extreme and the machine made more enemies than it could stand against.
Nevertheless, Miranda had seen many of her proudest career moments under the banner of Cerberus. And, from her experience with both their organization then and the Alliance now, Miranda believed there was still a place for the clandestine group that – through competent leadership – operated outside reasonable lines to get the job done. A Spectre operation seemed like a perfect fit. Whether or not Kaidan was the right man remained to be seen, but his principles seemed more-or-less in line with her own.
"… then I am ready and willing, Major Alenko."
With that, Kaidan finally released the proverbial breath he'd been holding so long, eyes closed while he smiled with a sense of relief.
"Perfect," he said. "I'm really looking forward to having you along."
"I look forward to being there. Thank you. Is there anything else you need from me?"
"No," said Kaidan. "That's all. I'll just forward you the schedule for when we ship out."
"Sounds good," she said. "Take care, Major."
"You too, Miranda…" With that, Kaidan cut the line, and pumped his fist in the air. In recruiting her, Kaidan felt he just pulled a coup. As he entered her name on the datapad, Kaidan looked over the roster and felt very good about this team. Whatever was lying in wait for them on Khar'Shan, he was confident in his squad's ability to get the job done.