Chapter Two: Arrival
The Systems Alliance UT-47 drop-shuttle landing craft holds 12 soldiers in a cramped, uncomfortable cargo bay and two more in the cockpit. Officially named the Kodiak, the drop-shuttle is better known to Alliance marines as the "combat cockroach" due to its appearance and durability.
The vehicle's robust environmental sealant technology exposes few vulnerable parts to the elements. First tested in the sulfuric acid clouds and extreme temperatures of Venus, the Kodiak can land in hard vacuum, high pressure, and temperatures from near-absolute zero to over 900 degrees Celsius.
A true contragravitic vehicle, the Kodiak's substantial element zero core allows flight by entirely countering the vehicle's mass. Its small thrusters are for directional control only, so if the mass effect field fails, the vehicle becomes a proverbial "three-million-credit coffin." The unarmed shuttle forgoes weaponry-space for active masking, electronic countermeasures, and a robust kinetic barrier system. It is ideal for dropping troops undetected.
Gillian closed her eyes and leaned her head back, letting the echo of the codex narrator's voice hang in her ears for a moment longer. It wasn't that she missed the voice itself all that much - to her, it sounded like whoever made the auditory content for the codex was doing their best impression of the deep-voiced, slow-talking elcor. But it was the meaning behind hearing it that meant something: it meant that she had access to the extranet, and thus was able to learn about the galaxy she had been absent from for a few years.
The "three-million-credit coffin" was serviceable enough in getting her to her destination, even if it groaned and buckled in protest. More than a few fuses were blown apart by the sheer current granted by the mass relays, and with every interstellar jump, Gillian felt the shuttle give out a little more. But she was certain that it would make the journey at least somewhat intact, if in a state that would render it completely unable to fly again. She wouldn't need it anymore once she landed; not where she was going.
By the time the Kodiak had finished its series of jumps across the Milky Way, Gillian had utterly devoured the codex and read the archives of nearly every news network that she could find. She knew everything that had happened in the galaxy since her imprisonment – all the major galactic figures, the most important battles in the war against the Reapers, and the fate of entire worlds were filed away inside her mind.
Most importantly, she had discovered the story of Shepard.
Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre, the hero of the Citadel, and the one who had united the galaxy in its darkest hour. Tales of Shepard's exploits were almost too unbelievable to be true, from uncovering the traitor Saren and exposing the power of Sovereign to curing the krogan race of the genophage and forging a peace between the quarians and the geth. The Collectors, the geth, the Reapers, and even Cerberus itself had opposed Shepard, and all of them had paid the price for their folly. But Shepard's greatest gift to the universe was one that cost the galaxy its hero: when given the chance to destroy the Reapers once and for all, Shepard took it, wiping out the malevolent fleet in a single blast that consumed the galaxy in a blaze of color. No one was quite certain what the blast did, but everyone agrees on the aftermath: the Reapers, the machines that harvested organic life every fifty thousand years, were gone.
But Shepard was gone too.
The galaxy was saved, but was left in ruins and chaos. The damage that the Reapers had inflicted was not undone with their disappearance, and lives, civilizations, and even entire planets were torn asunder in their systematic harvest of intelligent life. The number of those who had died were in the high millions, with billions more unreported and unrecorded. Much of the communications and infrastructure between star systems, which had been built up over thousands of years, had been wiped out in the space of a few hours, leaving all the stranded souls on the other sides of mass relays without a voice. Information was slow to travel, and the extranet was barely even functional – the once-united galaxy was still divided, as it had always been.
There has even been arguments and debates concerning the nature of Shepard's gift itself, and what effect the Crucible really had achieved. The Reapers were gone, yes, but how? Some speculated the simplest answer: the Commander had pulled the trigger on the super weapon, and perished alongside the Reapers in the explosive finish. Some believed that Shepard had learned how to control the Reapers, and now pulled their strings and used the Reapers to mend the damage they had caused in secret. Still others believed that Shepard was used as a template for a higher form of life, synthesizing all mechanical and organic life into one perfect union, just as the Reapers had done. (People with this opinion, Gillian noted, were far more vocal in public forums and news comment sections. They also had a frequent tendency to be banned more often than not.)
Whatever had happened aboard the Crucible, there were more than a few dramatic consequences. For one, the Council more than doubled in size: where before only the turians, asari, salarians, and (most recently) humans had occupied seats on the most important galactic governing body, after the war there was now a councilor to represent the volus, the quarians, the krogans, and even the hanar and the elcor. The road to rebuilding was slow and arduous, but every sapient species was contributing to the effort, as well as developing new technology to lessen the reliance on the tools of the Reapers as the cycles of the past had done. Finally, in a strange way, the war with the Reapers had brought the entire galaxy closer together; no more petty squabbles between governing bodies, no secrets between alien races, and more open travel between interstellar systems.
What particularly got Gillian's attention, however, was that her main enemy – Cerberus – had almost completely dissolved following the rumored disappearance of its enigmatic leader. No one was really certain why, and the lack of conclusive evidence led only to wild speculation. Some people suspected that the Illusive Man himself had played a role in the events on the Crucible, an opinion that was almost regarded as a conspiracy theory. Still, there was no use denying the facts – apart from a few mostly isolated projects, Cerberus was gone.
This information left Gillian both relieved and disheartened. On the one hand, she could finally be free of the shadow she lived under all her life: the constant threat that the Illusive Man was after her, always scheming to take back what belonged to him. On the other hand, she had dedicated her life since she had returned from deep space to exacting her revenge upon Cerberus…now that they were gone, what was she to do now? She supposed she could always go after those "rogue cells" if she really wanted to, but eradicating those seemed to be a fool's errand to her. Most Cerberus projects tended to end in fire and death; there were better things for her to do than bring about the inevitable.
But what? What else was there for her?
It was her hope that she would find answers at her destination.
Gillian had just finished downloading the codex to her omni-tool when the Kodiak began to shudder as it cleared the last relay, before flying into an artificial atmosphere. The VI became active again, prompting Gillian to take the helm manually.
"Now arriving at the Citadel."
Gillian's experience of the Citadel was limited, as the only time she had ever been at the heart of the galactic community was to find information on the Illusive Man. Beyond that brief time spent, she had only heard about it in words. Back at Grissom Academy, there were a few of her fellow classmates who had parents that took them to the Citadel a few times, or whose parents actually lived on the most advanced artificial space station in the galaxy. Based on their descriptions, all her classmates were left in awe and wonder. To Gillian, it sounded absolutely horrid. Trillions of people on one station? Crowded slums and lots of noise? Hours that lasted a hundred minutes, which in turn lasted a hundred seconds? It sounded like the depths of madness itself. Gillian made a vow to herself to never, ever, ever go to the Citadel.
Yet, here she was, six years later, standing in a crowded transit hub in one of the great arms of the Citadel. All around her, aliens of different sizes, shapes, and colors moved through the space like some sort of river, the flow of travelers never pausing or slowing for a moment. Avian-looking turians, enviro-suit-clad quarians, blue-skinned feminine asari, hulking krogans, limber salarians, rotund volus, and even a few jelly-like hanar trudged through the crowded space, their voices and noises melding together to create a cacophony of sound. Gillian's universal translator picked out bits and pieces of the conversations around her, but none of them really interested her; all she wanted was to survive the horde and find someplace far less crowded.
It's too crowded here, she thought as she maneuvered around a pair of absent-minded salarians, too loud. Too warm. Need some personal space. Need to get a shuttle and go someplace where I can rest and get my–
"Oh my god. Jenny?!"
Gillian turned in the direction that the shrill voice had come from, trying to determine its source. As it turns out, she needn't have bothered. The source had run up to her and latched onto her in a massive, unexpected hug.
The young autistic biotic screamed, drawing the attention of a few nearby turians and a salarian to the scene. Gillian struggled and squirmed as a young human female, probably no older than her, wrapped her arms around her waist and pushed her face up against hers. The girl's hair was shorter than hers, and not quite as sharp of a black – but it still contrasted against the splash of pink that lined the tips of her hair. Her eyes were brown and full of energy, and her collection of variously-sized ponytails – a single long one down her back, and two smaller ones on her sides – bobbed and flew alongside her hair as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
"Humans," said a turian, shaking his head and turning his attention back to his omni-tool. The other turian did so as well.
"Far too much physical contact for my taste," mused the salarian, "Especially among the females."
Gillian hadn't noticed the responses of those around her. She was still too busy trying to pry herself out of the grip of the hyper-ballistic teen.
"Oh wow I thought you got nabbed by the Collectors over on Freedom's Progress are you okay are you alright do you remember me are we still friends oh my god Jenny it's so good to see you did you miss me are your parents okay did you tell Ricky how you felt about him is he your boyfriend now we have so much to catch up on Jenny and –"
The girl abruptly stopped and stared directly into Gillian's eyes. She gasped and immediately let go of her, and started brushing her hands across her armor. Gillian tried to slap her hands away and block the girl's touches, but the unwanted invader of her personal space managed to get her hands everywhere she could reach.
"Oh my god I am so sorry I thought you were someone else are you okay are you alright here let me brush off that space dust for you and ooh cute butt are you into girls hey do you wanna be EEP!"
The girl let out a shriek as Gillian grabbed her by the collar, gritting her teeth and pulling the intruder's face into hers. The young autistic biotic had a lot of triggers that could send her into sensory overload, and right now this girl was pulling on all of them with reckless abandon. It took every bit of concentration she had to keep herself from having a meltdown in the middle of the transit hub.
"Do! Not! Touch me!" snapped Gillian.
"Whoa, hey, chill out, lady," said the girl, throwing up her hands in resignation, "Thought you were someone else for a sec. Let me go, and I promise you'll never see me again."
"Fine," said Gillian, shoving the girl away from her. The teenage girl smiled and waved, then disappeared into the crowd again.
Gillian breathed out a sigh of relief, moving with the flow of the crowd once more. Like most people with higher forms of autism, interacting with others was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting for her – especially when she didn't initiate it herself. For now, though, she was just glad that the shrill girl was gone – a panic attack in the middle of an unfamiliar location was the last thing she needed right now.
When she finally got to the front of the line, she came face-to-face with an extraordinarily bored-looking turian C-Sec officer, who had an omni-tool on one hand, a credit chit scanner in the other.
"Where are you headed?" asked the officer.
"Zakera ward," said Gillian, "Floor 28."
"How many?"
"Just one."
"That'll be fifteen credits, ma'am."
Gillian reached into her pocket for the credit chit she had looted from the abandoned Cerberus facility…and found nothing but lint. Frantically, she searched the other pockets in her suit, and found everything else but the credit chit. Then she tore into the bag on her shoulder, digging through cans of omni-gel, medi-gel, and nutritional paste in a vain search to find her chit. All the while behind her the line got longer and longer, and the C-Sec officer grew more and more impatient as she grew more and more frantic in her search.
It has to be in here somewhere, thought Gillian as she started double-checking the inner pockets, It just has to be...
"Ma'am," said the turian calmly, "If you can't pay, then please move along. There are people behind you waiting, and it's not fair for them to be held up like this. You can always catch a later shuttle when you find your chit."
"But I just had it!" protested Gillian, "It was right here in my pocket! I didn't even take it out!"
"You're making this harder than it needs to be, sweetie. Next!"
"But I –"
"Next!"
Gillian stepped back, flabbergasted as an asari stepped up while holding the hand of a young quarian child. She shook her head in disbelief, checking every one of her pockets for her credit chit. She didn't remember putting it in any pocket besides her back left pocket, which was now empty. She could have sworn that the credit chit was in there, since she felt it there just before –
Just before that girl had run up and hugged her.
Or rather, run up and mugged her.
"That little bosh'tet," growled Gillian.
"Language," chimed the little quarian.
Gillian backtracked through the long line of travelers, asking anyone willing to lend an ear if they had seen a human girl pass by. Most of them ignored her, a krogan snarled at her, and a hanar tried to calm her down by spreading the wisdom of the Enkindlers. She was just about at her wit's end when a volus poked a finger in her chest before she could even say a word.
"There you are!" said the volus, the sound of his breathing amplified by the enviro-suit he wore, "Give me back my credit chit at once, you little thief!"
"What – me?" snapped Gillian defiantly, "What did I do?"
"You stole my credit chit!" accused the volus, "You walked right up to me and nearly bowled me over! Then when I got up, my credit chit was missing! Return it, before I alert C-Sec!"
"I didn't pick your stupid pocket!" snapped Gillian, "I'm the one who got pick-pocketed!"
The volus looked thoroughly embarrassed, taking a deep breath of ammonia-rich air before speaking again.
"Oh. I apologize, Earth clan. I thought you were the one that stole from me. Then again, now that I can see, you do lack the color in your hair that she did…"
Color in the hair? That sounded like the criminal mastermind at large.
"Did you see where she went?" asked Gillian hopefully.
The volus nodded, pointing in a direction behind Gillian. After nodding in thanks, she ran off at full tilt, an angry look in her eyes. Behind her, the volus turned to a hanar that walked alongside him.
"I remember the days when it was just those clanless quarians that pilfered people's pockets," huffed the volus, "Now the Earth clan are doing it too. What is this galaxy coming to?"
"This one thinks the volus should try to be a little more open minded," said the hanar, "Some people have simply fallen on hard times."
Some of us harder than others, thought Gillian as she rushed to find the thief.
After following a trail of similarly-robbed citizens, Gillian finally found herself in front of a dark alleyway. The lights along the ceiling of the alley had gone out, and apparently no one had bothered to replace it. The sound of fluid dripping and heavy breathing echoed out of the darkness, spelling danger to anyone who heard it. The smell alone that wafted from beyond her sight was almost enough to make the young woman gag; still, she steeled herself as she walked into the shadows.
No escape.
Gillian switched on the flashlight functionality on her omni-tool, projecting a wide beam of light from the holographic gauntlet that formed around her hand. Her other hand reached for the M-3 Predator pistol concealed on her hip, pushing the button on the side to make it fold out of its collapsed state in anticipation. She was hoping she wouldn't have to use it, but she didn't want to be caught defenseless if danger did rear its ugly head – and without a biotic amp, even her mastery over mass effect fields couldn't do more than tip over a drunken volus.
She swept the light in front of her, carving a path through the darkness. Her heart beat inside her ears, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge. A sharp crack broke the silence from behind her, and she whirled to face the source of the noise.
That was what the person in the dark was counting on.
Gillian caught a glimpse of pink hair as a hand came and slapped her across the face, making her cheek sting with red pain. Another hand raised to slap her other cheek, but she caught it mid-swing, yanking on the wrist as she drove her knee into the assailant's gut. The blow knocked the wind right out of her opponent, giving Gillian ample time to shove the attacker right into the corner hard enough to make them stumble.
She drew the pistol from her hip, aiming it with one hand and shining the light onto the now-panting foe. Sure enough, it was exactly who she thought it was.
"Okay, okay, here!" wheezed the little thief, "You can have your stupid credit chit back! Just put the gun away before you get us both in trouble!"
"Too late for that!" snapped Gillian, "You took my credit chit!"
"You shoved me!"
"You made me miss my shuttle!"
"You assaulted me!"
"You made me nervous!"
"You're still pointing a gun at my face!"
"Just answer my questions!"
"You haven't asked anything yet!"
"Where are your parents?!"
"Where are yours, you freak?!"
"Do not call me that! I asked you first, and I have the gun!"
"I'd be happy to answer, once you put it away!"
"Not until you tell me why you're alone!"
"Why don't you tell me why you're alone? Oh wait, I know! Because you're a crazy psychopath with a gun!"
"Just tell me where your parents are!"
"Check the morgue! You'll find them there! Along with all the other people those human psychos shot when they launched an assault on the Citadel!"
Gillian's throat was raw from screaming, and her anger seemed to ebb away. The human girl in front of her, once full of energy, was now curled up into a ball of sobs and tears. Gillian recalled from the codex an entry all about how Cerberus had once gathered enough resources and manpower to launch a full-on attack on the Citadel itself, in a bid to assassinate the Salarian Councilor and upset the balance of power. A lot of people had died when the armored killing machines invaded and flooded the streets…and here was someone who had lost two of the most important people in her life to those bastards.
"You lost your parents to Cerberus?" asked Gillian quietly. The girl nodded with a sob.
With a sigh, Gillian collapsed her pistol again, concealing it in its pouch on her left hip again. She bent down and knelt next to the girl, turning down the light from her omni-tool so it wasn't quite so blinding.
"I am sorry I yelled at you."
"I'm sorry I called you a freak," she sobbed.
"I am sorry I pointed a gun at you."
"I'm sorry I took your chit."
"I am sorry I hurt you."
"I'm sorry I stuffed a flashbang in your pocket."
"I am sorry I – wait, what –"
All at once, a flash of light and a shriek of noise went off over Gillian's heart, blinding and deafening her. She screamed in anguish as her entire world went white and silent, while the silhouette of a twin-tailed girl got up and ran away.
She grit her teeth, fighting to keep the flashbang from sending her into sensory overload. With a feral growl, Gillian reflexively whirled to face the fleeing female. She swung her left hand down and to her side, while she swung upward with her right fist. This was the motion that, if she had her biotic amplifier plugged in, would have triggered a stasis field around her opponent; her body glowed with a weak azure corona, and a pitiful little mass effect field formed around the girl.
It wasn't enough to restrain her, but it was enough to make her stumble a little bit. This took both girls by surprise, though Gillian didn't sit and gawk at her own latent ability. Instead, she pressed the advantage, scrambling to her feet and tackling the awestruck girl, driving her knees into her back and slamming her hands down onto her wrists.
"Do not! Ever! Do that! Again!" shrieked Gillian.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Really! But I had no idea you were a biotic! I don't want any trouble!"
"Too late for that!"
"Are you all by yourself too?"
Gillian paused, the momentary rage once again leaving her system.
"…yes."
"The Reaper War took away everyone you ever cared about, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Nowhere to go? Nowhere to stay?"
"No."
"Welcome to the life of a Citadel orphan, honey. Can you let me up please?"
"Are you going to stick another flashbang in my pocket?"
"Nope."
"Are you going to run away?"
"I'll try not to."
"Promise?"
"If you promise not to shoot me or hit me."
"Okay."
Gillian got off of the girl, who in turn rolled over back onto her backside. She sat up across from Gillian, and the two teenage runaways looked at each other for a moment.
"So," asked the girl inquisitively, "what are you gonna do now?"
Gillian sighed. "I…I do not know. I have no friends or family, and I do not have a home. I am not sure what to do next."
"Well," said the girl, "I don't have any friends or family either. But I do have a home. Sort of. Free rent. Nice location. Running water, extranet access…the whole gig. Gets a little lonely there myself, though. Plenty of room for you to make yourself cozy…if you want."
Gillian stared at the girl, who just a few minutes ago had been picking her pockets and planting a flashbang grenade on her. Disbelief was written all over her face, as her former assailant was now offering up her home to the girl who had thoroughly thrashed her.
"Are you…asking me to live with you?"
"Is that a yes?"
"But I thought only friends lived together like that."
"Well, aren't we friends now?"
"I'm not sure. Are we?"
"I think we are."
"…oh. Okay. That was...easier than I always thought it was."
"Not much of a people person?"
"Autism."
"Ohhhhhh...That makes a lot of sense, actually. In that case, yeah. We're friends. I mean, if you want."
"I think I do. Want to be friends, that is."
The girl grinned a wide, joyful grin. Before it could fully form, however, it faltered.
"Wait. You're not Cerberus, are you?"
Gillian suddenly felt like a sniper rifle slug just went through her heart, turning her blood to ice in its veins. "Wh...Cerberus is gone."
"As an organization, sure," said the girl, "But as an idea? Oh, it's alive and kicking, unfortunately. Even with the Illusive Man all but confirmed dead, there are a lot of people that just won't let go of the idea of 'humans are special and the best and therefore everything else must die' that Cerberus stood for. That idea is still around, even in times of peace like this – no, especially in times like this. They may change their name, they might put on a new face, but trust me honey, Cerberus ain't dead. It's still there in the shadows, looking for new young minds to sculpt and shape. Nothing good has ever come out of Cerberus...and nothing ever will."
Now the ice cold feeling gave way to a burning anger. Cerberus...its horrors, its ideas, its methods...the codex was wrong. Cerberus didn't disappear. It had evolved.
It had evolved into a form that Gillian couldn't fight.
"Well?" The girl was looking at Gillian expectantly. The young biotic, after a moment, shook her head fervently. The girl's eyes lit up once more, and the smile returned as though it had never disappeared at all.
"Then follow me," said the twin-tailed girl, "my pad's just past the Silversun Strip. It's not too far from here. Just stay off the streets, and you'll be fine."
Gillian nodded, watching the girl as she climbed up a ladder previously obscured in the darkness. She turned as she was halfway up, looking down at her with big brown eyes.
"I'm Miko, by the way. Miko Nakadai. What's your name?"
"…Gillian. Gillian Grayson."
"Huh. You related to Dick Grayson?"
"Who?"
"Never mind."
And so with a shrug, Gillian followed Miko up the ladder, staying close to her as they ran off into the shadows.
It seemed like Gillian's days of being alone were over.
As long as she doesn't know where I came from.