Author's Note - ok, so my section breaks somehow magically disappeared. Thanks to my reviewers for pointing that out.
A sharp inhalation turned EDI's head. Shepard lay awake, blinking rapidly and looking around, relaxing only minutely upon catching sight of the synthetic body beside her bed. "One moment, Commander," she said, rising and walking over to a dispenser unit and returning with a small bottle of water and a straw.
After a few swallows, Shepard sat up with a helping hand, looking suspiciously at the nurse who came over to check her vitals. "What's happened? How long was I out?"
"You have been unconscious for fourteen hours and nine minutes. You have been treated for your injuries sustained in the fight." EDI nodded to the nurse, who backed off. "We are on a human constructed station called Babylon 5. All available evidence confirms a hypothesis that we are not in our own universe."
Shepard blinked several times as she tried to digest that factoid. "Assuming that's correct, how did the Normandy get here?"
"We were following Admiral Hackett's orders to retreat and regroup. While in transit, I received a clear signal from your subdermal transponder, despite its destruction during the final push towards the beam. Joker attempted to pilot us out of the mass effect corridor, during which time we were struck by an energy wave of unknown configuration, emerging near an alien vessel."
"What kind of energy wave? Help me stand up."
EDI hesitated to speak, but she pulled back the blanket and steadied Shepard as she slowly wavered on her feet. "It was … green."
"Green," Shepard repeated doubtfully.
"Yes."
They stared at each other for several seconds. "Next someone's going to tell me it was magic beams of space magic," she grumbled.
"Magic is only technology that is insufficiently understood," EDI countered. "When it comes to Reaper technology, that still covers a great deal."
The door to the medical bay opened, and a man in uniform strode inside, coming straight over to them with a smile. "Glad to see you awake again. I'm Captain Sheridan," he said, holding out a hand.
"You were on the station," Shepard said, taking his hand and shaking it quickly. "But I thought you said it was being destroyed?"
"Ah, no, not quite. That was Babylon 4. This is Babylon 5. What happened was, well, a bit of a long story." He slid his hands into his pockets as he spoke, projecting an image of easiness and carefreeness that she almost believed, if not for the look in his eyes. "I think we should set aside a few hours to talk, my command staff and yours."
"I agree, but I think I need time to get a shower, and some new clothes," she said, looking down at the flimsy hospital gown.
EDI suddenly handed her a set of maintenance coveralls, the pair she usually wore when fiddling around with weapons with Garrus. It had been nearly a month since they had half a day free to just noodle around with weapon mods and talk, since they ended Han'Gerral's stupid little war and saved both quarians and geth.
Struck by a sudden thought, she turned to EDI, heedless of the back of her gown flapping open. "EDI, if we're in another universe, then what are Garrus and Tali going to eat?"
"Out of the twenty alien species known to frequent this station, only two of them are also dextro. Liara is currently negotiating food delivery using some of our refined iridium for barter."
Sheridan nodded. "Over comms, of course, until doctors Chakwas and Franklin can be reasonably sure that our various alien crew won't be a danger to each other. There's a bathroom over there you can change in," he said, gesturing towards the back of medlab. "I'll bring my main staff in two hours?"
"Sounds good to me," Shepard said after a moment. "We'll be ready for you."
"Good, good." He was about to say more when his communicator chirped. "Never fails. Sheridan, go," he said, striding back out of medlab.
Changed into new clothes, Shepard followed EDI out of the doors, stopping as four humans in uniform formed up around them. "Do we really need an escort?" she asked.
"While you were first admitted, Lieutenant Vega killed someone who attempted to force their way into medlab," EDI said, pointing at the array of bullet dimples in the metal floor and wall. A maintenance worker had some kind of brick-sized piece of humming equipment to level out the holes. "After that, Security Chief Garibaldi placed armed guards on medlab and on the Normandy's dock in case his friends decide to retaliate."
More was said, but Shepard heard none of it as she stared at a pair of unknown aliens, bargaining over silk cloth of some kind. "Wait, what was that?"
EDI glanced in that direction. "If you were referring to the aliens, the merchant is known as a Drazi and the buyer a Pak'ma'ra. If you meant what I said, station security is unhappy about his carrying weapons on board."
Passing by an argument between a spotted reptile-person, and a Napoleonic-looking human with outrageous hair, Shepard shook her head. "Can't imagine why," she said dryly.
Leaning heavily on the railing of the portable staircase, Shepard ignored the two security guards and ascended into her ship. "Hey, Commander," Joker called as they entered. "Some place they've got here."
"Beats the last time we saw Arcturus," Shepard responded. "How'd we come through?"
"We took a beating and kept on kicking their ass," he said with a grin. "We need to replace about forty percent of our armor plates, and Tali's trying to figure out how to manufacture new gravity plating for the subdeck. Also, Allers is on the warpath for information."
"Does she know she doesn't have a network to broadcast on anymore?"
He shrugged, turning back towards his panels. "Heck if I know. We're just lucky their fuel is compatible."
Her pace increased as she walked down the neck of the ship. Garrus was already stepping down from the galaxy map to meet her, but instead of the embrace and kiss he expected, she grabbed his hands and dragged him towards the elevator. "Shepard?" he asked as the doors opened.
Stepping inside, she reached up and gently tugged on his cowl. "I'm not wearing anything under these coveralls," she whispered into his ear. He stepped into the elevator and stabbed the top button before turning back to her.
At the door to her quarters, Shepard pulled her lips off his neck just long enough to issue orders. "EDI, give me a reminder half an hour before Sheridan arrives. Until then, stay out." The reply was lost between the door closing, the sounds of clothing being removed, and their moans.
The Normandy crew sat down one side of the table, Shepard at the head with Garrus holding her left hand, then Liara, Tali, Vega, and Traynor. Chakwas had pulled her chair out of the door, close enough she could continue to monitor Javik's condition while listening to the conversation. On Shepard's other side sat Franklin, then Garibaldi, Ivanova, Delenn, and Sheridan at the foot. Marcus had borrowed one of the stools from the med bay and was sitting next to Chakwas. And in the back, against the wall, the silent and creepy figure of Ambassador Kosh.
"Alright, this should be an interesting little conference," Shepard said. "EDI, you sure all the language translations you made are accurate?"
"It is currently unfeasible to have someone who can speak quarian, turian, asari, and minbari languages," EDI said. "It will help if Garrus and Liara can stick to using English."
"I do not think that will be a problem," Delenn said. "As ambassador, I already have some fluency. Automatic translation, no matter how advanced, is a poor substitute for learning a language and culture yourself."
"Yeah, I suppose." They sat in silence for a moment as Shepard stared off into space. "Yeah. Alright. So, since we're the guests to your universe, I suppose we'll start. The whole thing can be traced back to a race we call Leviathans. Somewhere between half a billion and a billion years ago, they learned how to telepathically control other races."
She laid out what little they knew of the original precursor race, and their creation of the Catalyst to "solve" rebelling synthetics, only to fall prey to it themselves. The Reaper solution of harvesting species, and the almost total destruction of the Inusannon and Protheans – the only cycles they could name.
Liara and Garrus took over, speaking of the discovery of the Citadel, the Rachni and Krogan Wars, and their own galactic society. Shepard took over the narrative again, talking of the First Contact War, and finally her appointment as Spectre to track down Saren Arterius. The destruction of Nazara and the willful ignorance of the Council, her death under a Collector beam and Cerberus' resurrection of her. Even the obliteration of the entire Bahak system garnered little more than a tightening of knuckles and grim, understanding smiles.
Then the Reapers arrived, destroying everything in their path. Cerberus turning against the rest of the galaxy, determined to wrest control from their own puppet masters. Forming an alliance of every race in space to combat the eldritch horrors. The Catalyst, and its impossible decision. "That's when I found you," she said, staring across at Sheridan and Delenn. "The other alien with you, Zathras, pulled me out of the Citadel and into your universe. He must have chosen one of the options, because something happened to help knock the Normandy here."
Garibaldi shook his head. "I believe you. The only thing I don't get is how easy it is for these Reapers. I mean, we've seen telepathic control before too, but they still had to do more than just show up."
"It requires more than that for the Reapers, as well," Liara said. "If they want drooling minions, that's not hard. But they prefer a more subtle touch, convincing the victim that they want to do the Reaper's will."
"In some ways, it's not unlike forcing someone to undergo a psychotic break, or inducing schizophrenia," Chakwas said. "The slower it's done, the more intact the rest of the person's faculties are. They can still think, and reason, but they're tainted by the instinctive desire to serve."
Sheridan nodded slowly, hands clasped in front of his face. "Well, now that we know what you've been through, I suppose it's time for our explanation." He glanced aside at Delenn, who took a moment to compose herself.
"Like your own tale, ours also begins hundreds of millions of years ago. Back when all of the First Races still walked among the galaxy. One by one, they departed, or faded away, and vanished from the galaxy, until only two were left – the Vorlons, and the Shadows." She talked of the great wars between the two sides, as the Shadows contested the Vorlon leadership over new races. How they spread chaos and destruction out of some desire to weed out the "weak and impure."
They spoke of the destruction of the first three Babylon station, sabotaged by the Shadows or their minions, and the fourth station sent back in time to serve as the central part of the last war and begin the process of bringing human and minbari closer together. Then into modern times, with the assassination of the Earth President, the beginning of the Narn-Centauri war as the Shadows dug their talons into the crumbling empire.
Then the beginning of the Rangers, the independence of Babylon 5 from Earth control and the preparations for war. "That, I'm afraid, is where things suddenly just got a lot more complicated," Sheridan said, looking at Vega. "Yesterday, while you were still being stitched up, he stopped one of the Shadows' favorite servants from entering. And when one of them attacked, to make sure of it, he blew them away."
Shepard glanced at Vega, who nodded, fists clenching on the table. "Alright. So, you didn't want the Shadows to know you knew about them. Now they know you've got a dead one to dissect. But they still don't know you're preparing, right?"
"We don't think so, no," Sheridan said. "But they're bound to step up their timetable, now that there's someone around who can pierce their stealth fields."
Vega shook his head. "I didn't see it, it hit me. Left a gash in my armor. If it wasn't for fighting Cerberus goons with tactical cloaks, it might have killed me."
"Tactical cloaks?" Ivanova asked.
Shrugging, Shepard tapped her new omni-tool, vanishing from sight, only a barely perceptible shimmer still remaining in her seat. "They bend light around you," she explained. "Sound still comes through, and you can spot someone if you know what to look for."
"Hot damn, I have got to get me one of those," Garibaldi said, slapping a hand on the table.
"Mine's currently implanted around where my spleen used to be," Shepard said.
"Never mind. I'm not sure what my spleen does, but I'm rather attached to it," he said.
"I think what we need now is a war council," Marcus spoke up for the first time. "Your personal armor, and weapons, seem superior to anything we have, and that cannon on your ship is frightening. By comparison, your ship scans like a paper bag."
"We need to replace half our armor plates, and we don't have enough iridium and platinum to do it," Tali complained. "Not to mention, you don't even have the technology we need to build the tech to make new plates."
"Well, there is one thing we can do," Garrus said. "Liara, could we use your armor?"
"Why mine and not Vega's?" she asked, rising from the table.
"One, it's closer, and two, it's lighter than his," the turian said, standing up as well. In two minutes, they had it assembled and free-standing next to the stairs to the forward battery, while Garrus unfolded his Viper. "Now, as an example, this is what happens when you fire."
Leveling the rifle, he stared down the scope for a moment and executed a perfect heart-shot. The shields flashed bright blue-white, and the tiny bullet chip dropped to the floor. "Shields will stop a number of rounds, depending on the firearm and shield strength, and will regenerate automatically after a few seconds. Your turn, Garibaldi."
Staring at the sniper rifle as it folded up, the security chief rose from his chair and drew his PPG. Taking a standard firing range stance, he sighted down his straight arm and pulled the trigger. The shields failed instantly with a tiny flash, and a bloom of carbon blossomed across the armor's abdomen. "You must not like me, Garibaldi," Liara teased.
"I was aiming for the head, your shield threw it off," he said. Garrus, Shepard, and Marcus were already examining the armor.
"Well, aside from removing the shields, it doesn't look like that shot actually did anything," Shepard said, her fingertips leaving clear lines through the charred dust. "Try a couple of shots, before the shields regen."
They backed off and waited a moment while he checked his aim, then Garibaldi opened fire. The tiny pistol had almost no recoil, and four shots blasted into the chest and shoulders, toppling the empty suit on the last hit.
"Well, that did something," Garrus said, the pointed tip of his talon just barely disappearing in the tiny pitting. "I wouldn't put money on your entire squad being able to take down Vega with gunfire, though."
"Would you be able to manufacture those for us, Commander?" Marcus asked. "They appear lightweight, and would give Rangers a significant advantage against the Shadows."
"No." Everyone turned around as Kosh spoke for the first time. "Their technology is like the apple. One use and it will control you." His head swiveled to stare down Shepard. "You need to return. The longer you stay here, the tighter our worlds tie themselves together."
"Wait a minute," Sheridan said. "Zathras works for the Vorlons, always has. Zathras brought her here, which means you wanted them here."
"I … was wrong," Kosh said. Ignoring everything else they said, he glided to the elevator and stepped inside.
"That's not a good sign," Ivanova said.
"You can say that again," Tali muttered.
"It's been two days, Admirals, and still no indication of what is going on," Daro'Xen said. "Obviously, this concerns me far more than it does you."
"Daro, you're being alarmist," Zaal'Koris said. "Yes, the geth have retreated to the northern continent. In case you hadn't noticed, that energy wave also disabled a number of our own electronics, when it destroyed the relay. It's a miracle we're not all dead right now."
Shala'Raan shook her head, skimming through report after report while they continued to bicker. Her faceplate, like those of her companions, was cracked open to allow the fresh open breeze blowing through their building to tickle her nostrils. According to her doctor, she should have closed it up half an hour ago, but the smell of the flowers was too tempting to shut out for now. But her faceplate kept the growing frown from being visible.
After her first two attempts to interrupt went unheeded, she drew her pistol and fired one shot out the door into the dirt. Daro and Zaal both leaped away from each other, scrambling for their own weapons before they realized there was no attack. "Are you two prepared to act in a reasonable manner, now?" she asked calmly, weapon still out. "Good.
"Daro's half right – this is a matter for concern, though not for the reasons she'd elaborate on. Even with two liveships left here, there's still almost nine million quarians on the surface or in orbit. We can just barely sustain ourselves, but we were depending on geth aid." She pulled up one particular graph. "Right now, we don't have the labor to maintain all our ships, and build on the surface."
Instantly, both Daro and Zaal started shouting again, leading Shala to raise her gun. This time, they noticed before she pulled the trigger. "Zaal, one minute, go," she said.
"As much as it pains me, if we can't rely on the geth at the moment, we need to mothball some of the ships. If we don't get back on schedule, we'll miss planting times. That will put us behind by a whole solar year." Zaal crossed his arms, glaring.
Daro snorted. "If we mothball our ships, we won't be able to protect ourselves against any Reaper incursion or, Ancestors forbid, a renewed geth offensive if they've changed their minds."
"And have either of you attempted to communicate with the geth to find out what is happening?" Shala glared between the two of them as they said nothing. "Of course not. Veetor!"
Her new assistant peered around the doorway nervously. Given how often their meetings devolved into shouting matches, she couldn't blame him, especially with the gunshot. He probably wanted to make sure he wasn't going to be shot. "Yes, Admiral?"
"Open a channel to the geth. We need to talk."
"I, ah, tried to. All I'm getting is dead air." He shrank back behind the door frame as Daro started gesturing with another round of I-told-you-so's.
"Fine. Veetor, get my shuttle." That shut up Daro'Xen quickly. "If the geth won't respond, then I am going to go get some answers from them."
"Good. Maybe if you put a couple bullets in them they'll stop ignoring us," Daro muttered.
"Shala, are you sure this is a good idea?" Zaal asked. "Even though I want peace, that doesn't mean I know what's going on with the geth."
They stared at each other for a moment before she nodded. "Veetor, get two marines, as well," she ordered. "We'll set off north in an hour." Reluctantly, she closed up her faceplate. Her throat was getting dry and scratchy, and she didn't know if it was just an allergy, or fear that their recent peace was about to end.
