Chapter 6: Negotiations

"A living prothean and now the ship's AI has a body. It's official. New weirdest day on the Normandy... I'm going to go see if there's still a bar in that lounge. This is all you, boss. Good luck!"

Shepard tossed Garrus a dirty look before the turian left, waving the engineers and security team away. The smoke was already disappearing, leaving EDI's svelte new form standing before him expectantly. His tired mind vacillated between a number of possible reactions before he finally marshaled his senses enough to form a coherent sentence.

"EDI this is... well, amazing. But we thought we'd lost you for a minute there. I think Joker is about to have kittens up on the bridge."

"The act of feline procreation seems an odd analogy for Jeff's state of being. Unfortunately I did not have sufficient time to inform yourself or Jeff of what was happening. When I attempted to access Dr. Core's primary data processes I activated a backup routine," the AI explained impassively. "It attempted to subvert the Normandy's systems and attack my own processes and I was forced to destroy the other AI. It... did not go quietly."

"You mean you had to kill 'her'?"

Seeing an actual face to put to EDI's words was a strange experience. She lacked many of the physical cues he would have expected from an organic, making the experience even more eerie. Even as she spoke he could see her attempting to mimic some of those movements. He wondered whether it was voluntary or simply another part of her growing, adaptive programming. The way her head tilted, the synthetic tone of her voice softening, Shepard thought it almost sounded like she was expressing regret.

"There was no other method by which I could ensure the Normandy's safety. Like my own systems, the 'Dr. Core' persona was built partially with Reaper code. Only by neutralizing her completely could I eliminate the threat she posed. While my personality matrix was not encoded with standard human emotions, the best description I can assign to the sensation was that it was 'unpleasant'."

Shepard gave her a sad but reassuring smile. "It always is, EDI. Seems like everything turned out okay, but... does this mean you're in there now?"

"I am in both places, Commander, but my self awareness is tied into systems throughout the Normandy. Consider this body more like a... mobile terminal. I still reside within the Normandy itself, but this form provides a new way to interact with the crew and outside environments," she explained, cocking her head. "I am eager to evaluate this body's capabilities. Initial diagnostics indicate I would be able to provide limited ground fire support and technical assistance, though I would remain most effective when within tightbeam range of the Normandy."

"Wait, are you saying you want to be part of the ground team?" he asked in surprise.

"You have already seen what this synthetic form is capable of, Shepard. It is more resilient than a comparable organic with equivalent or greater strength and speed," EDI pointed out. "In addition, even if this platform sustains critical damage, my consciousness would remain safe within the Normandy."

It was an intriguing thought, one that was worrying at the same time. The idea that there would be a member of his team that he didn't have to worry about every time their boots touched ground, wondering if the next bullet would be the one to finally end their streak of luck, that he'd have to bury another friend... it was seductive. But something about it almost felt too easy. Like war had lost its inherent risk, become too easy. With just EDI it wasn't a problem but in the back of his mind he could already hear the voice of the military and politicians when they eventually found out about it. Talks about 'minimal risk' to living soldiers, ideas to 'revolutionize warfare' and create 'bloodless conflicts'. The idea might even get the Council to think twice about the ancient AI ban... he shook his head, trying to pull himself out of that downward spiraling trend of thoughts.

"Just... tread carefully around the crew. This is going to come as something of a shock."

"I will. I think I will go visit Jeff first so that he can see my new form. I expect he will be pleased. Also, due to your non-committal but positive statement am I correct in assuming you are considering my proposal?"

He laughed. "Well, we agree about Joker at least. As far as coming on missions, I'll consider it. Run tests, make sure there aren't any more surprises in there. But if it comes back clean I'll bring you on the next mission as a test run."

"Thank you, Shepard."

Still a little nonplussed at the entire situation, he was at least amused by Chakwas' wide eyed stare as EDI casually sauntered out of the medical bay and towards the elevator. Moving into the medbay as well, he could only give a shrug at the doctor's questioning gaze.

"I expect the same reaction from most of the crew but there isn't much to be done for it."

"I suppose that's true, I just hope I don't have to deal with half a dozen panic attacks because there's a now completely mobile AI stalking the halls," she responded dryly.

"Joker, maybe, but I don't think his reaction will be a panic attack per se..."

Chakwas laughed, apparently recovering from the shock quickly. "I can only imagine. I must say it's good to be back on the Normandy, Commander. There are always surprises; but it feels like home."

"We're glad to have you back," he said. "I'm going to check on our new guest. I want to give him some time to adjust and then I'll get him up here for a once-over. Another first, doc... first human to give a prothean a physical."

The smile on his face was genuine for once. Chakwas had been nursing the wounds of Normandy's crew since he'd taken command. It felt right that she was here now, acting like a mother hen with Joker's medications and preparing for the worst with an understanding smile on her face.

"Don't think you're getting away that easily," the doctor chastised, dragging him back towards one of the medical beds with a hand on his arm. "I haven't even given you a 'once-over' yet, so you're not going to distract me with a previously-extinct species."

"I'm the same as I was six months ago when we did this."

"Mhm. Now are you going to sit still so I can scan you?"

Doctor Chakwas might not have been a soldier in the same way as many of the Normandy's crew but she could usually stare down the best of them. He finally just nodded, letting her go about her work. It wasn't anything particularly time consuming, just scans and the occasional question.

"Well... I'm still seeing no signs of rejection from your implants, so that's good. Dr. Letha had sent me her findings from the examination after we returned from the Collector base," she said. He could detect the faint hitch in her voice at the word 'Collector', likely still unpleasant memories of her time after the abduction.

"See? I told you, I'm fine. Same as before," he assured her.

The smile on her was the same one he always saw when she was humoring a stubborn patient. Needless to say it was a familiar sight. Chakwas brushed aside a lock of steel colored hair and shook her head.

"Not quite the same, Commander. There are a dozen fewer people on this ship than when you left and last time you hadn't just spent six months under confinement. You might find this hard to believe – but, over the years, I have gotten fairly good at detecting symptoms that you people try to hide. For example, I can tell that you're exhausted. If I had to bet you probably haven't logged an entire eight hours of sleep since we left Earth. Am I wrong?"

Shepard frowned, but realized there was little point in lying. "I haven't slept well. And there have been things that needed doing."

"Things that needed doing? Or things you needed to do so you didn't stop long enough to think about anything else? This mission is already going to be unforgiving. If you're exhausted along with all the regular stresses that come with what you do we both know what will happen."

"I have a job to do, doctor. A few nights of poor sleep won't change that," he replied calmly, hopping down from the medical bed. "I assure you, I'm perfectly fit for duty."

"Four days straight searching news articles, physical training, reviewing old files from the Collector base. Even watching footage of the Battle of the Citadel. Not sleeping, I suspect only limited trips to the the mess hall as well," Chakwas said, rattling off a quick summation of his days.

His eyes narrowed, actually feeling a twinge of anger. "Have you been... checking up on me?"

"EDI has access to every system aboard the Normandy and I have medical authorization. I consider it necessary outpatient care."

"I was unaware your degree included psychology," Shepard replied. "My extranet searches shouldn't concern anyone, especially since they're my business. If you're going to snoop I'll try to search for more interesting things to keep you entertained."

Shepard had done his best to control his frustration but he knew that the statement had come off more than a little acidic. Turning he headed for the medical bay doors once more.

"I'm sure you will. Possibly 'Tali'Zorah vas Normandy' if you're looking for suggestions?"

He stopped in his tracks, fists clenching out of reflex as he spoke through gritted teeth. "Do you have a point, doctor?"

"Just that. Six months and you don't even type her name into a terminal. I know EDI didn't scrub that information, she's honestly quite poor at lying," Chakwas said. "And don't tell me that it didn't matter to you. You slept by that girl's beside for a week when she was injured. So why, now that you're free, have you not even asked Liara about her whereabouts?"

"And do what?" Shepard snapped, turning around to face her once more. "I practically told her that she didn't matter in the grand scheme of things when I turned myself in. And she left crying. What do I do now? Send her an extranet message: 'Sorry, I was an idiot. The Reapers are invading, want to have dinner? Sincerely, that guy that almost got you killed and then left you at an airlock.'. That's your suggestion?"

Chakwas laughed quietly. "It would be a start."

"No, I chose the wrong path and I paid for it," he replied bitterly. "She's safer on the Migrant Fleet than anywhere else in this galaxy now that the Reapers are here. Maybe it wasn't the wrong choice for her."

Before the doctor could offer a reply he had finally made his exit, the doors closing behind him.


By the time he had reached the engineering deck a few hours later Shepard had calmed himself enough not to viciously jab the controls. Removing his armor, checking war reports, and finally setting them on course for the summit was at least enough of a distraction to diffuse his anger. He already regretted his outburst. Chakwas had always done her best to look out for the Normandy's crew like it was her family. More than one of his crew, including himself, owed her their lives. But he didn't need reminders of the past right now. An ironic thought considering who he was going to visit.

The prothean had taken Grunt's old quarters, occupying the starboard storage room. The first thing he noticed upon entering was just how spartan the room appeared. Before the Normandy had been surrendered to the Alliance there had been an odd collection of metal crates, Grunt's tank, and various items the krogan had found of interest during his learning phase after gaining consciousness aboard the Normandy. Now it was nearly bare, a single console set up at the opposite end of the room along with a military style cot that had clearly been liberated from the hold. Javik's rifle was resting carefully on the polished steel desk with the only other item the prothean had brought with him: a faintly glowing rectangular crystal floating above a round disk emitting the same sort of light.

"Human... Commander," Javik corrected himself. "Is there conflict already?"

"No, I was just coming to see how you were settling in."

The prothean's back was to him still and he heard the sound of dripping water. Javik had apparently acquired a large basin from somewhere in the ship, the mess hall most likely, and had filled it. As Shepard watched he lightly shook his hands to remove the excess moisture before finally turning to face him.

"In the past hours a few of your crew have approached me, I believe wishing to offer overtures of 'friendship'. That is not my purpose here," he stated. "I also find I need to wash my hands often in this place. Every item I touch in this place seems to carry the residue of your crew. I sense... a drell. Many humans. Even a krogan that once shared these quarters."

"I don't understand how you can sense that. It's been months since any of them were aboard. Asari can touch someone's mind, but only if they're touching them, and even then it's nothing as quick or simple as what you did on Eden Prime."

"There are always traces left behind," Javik explained, pacing slowly. "Genetic material and things less tangible, thoughts, emotions. The physical I can smell and taste. The rest I can simply feel. I have absorbed your language but there is no word for it. It is an ability all of my people possessed. It made us excellent hunters."

"I can imagine," he said. "Evolution is an amazing thing."

The prothean made a sound that almost sounded amused. "Our scientists believed it was the only force in the galaxy that mattered. They called it the 'Cosmic Imperative'. The strong flourished and the weak perished... quite unlike the governments of your cycle. They seem overly concerned with the survival of all."

"They believe that the needs of the many are what's important."

"A waste. Extinction is the law of the cosmos, you need only look around to see it on countless worlds, the same pattern playing out again and again. The weak are only useful as tools to for the strong... something this cycle will need to learn. Sacrifice a weak race and while the Reapers are occupied with them they are not paying attention to you."

Shepard's mouth was set in an impassive line as he spoke. "And who decides who the weak and the strong are?"

"They decide for themselves," Javik replied, waving a hand dismissively. "You have already seen this. Those that would capitulate, seek peace and appeasement have already shown their true worth. When the time comes, if you wish to have a chance of winning this war, you will have to sacrifice those weak ones to give the strong a chance to marshal their forces."

"A brutal, if pragmatic, way of looking at the world."

"A necessary one. Though I do not think your asari approves of my views."

"She's not 'my' asari. Her name is Liara," Shepard corrected. "And I think she just had a different vision of what your people were like."

"We are shaped by the world which we are born into. Had I been born early in this cycle perhaps I would be the noble scholar she wishes me to be."

"Or maybe you'd still have been a soldier. That much war... it must have changed you."

"It shaped me as a stone is sculpted by water. I have taken many lives. Seen much death," the prothean agreed, fixing his eyes on Shepard's own. "But when I touched your mind I sensed that you have done the same."

"I've always done what needed to be done," he responded curtly.

Javik shook his head. "You speak as if you should be ashamed to have done so. In my cycle, you would have been heralded as a great warrior, deserving of praise. We are much the same, Commander. War is our sculptor and we are prisoners of its design. I can only hope that your cycle will fare better than my own."

The prothean had moved back to his basin of water, running it over his hands once more while Shepard rolled his thoughts in his head, pacing slowly himself now.

"It will. My life hasn't just been changed by war... it was changed the moment I touched that beacon, the one that gave me the first visions of your people. My path was set then, leading me down this road. The only way off that path for either of us is to destroy the Reapers once and for all."

The look that Javik gave him was appraising. "That path offers many choices, Commander. And many sacrifices. Are you prepared to make those sacrifices to ensure victory?"

"I am."

Javik's fingertips touched his forehead before he could even react. There was another brief flash, visions of worlds torn asunder by monolithic warships, clouds of smoke and ash blotting out the sun and the stench of the dying clinging in his nostrils. Then it was over, the prothean stepped away. He almost yelled at the ancient warrior, demanding to know what gave him the right... but he didn't. The part of him had seen into Javik's mind understood that it wasn't something that was casually done or often repeated.

"You speak the words and... maybe you are. But there is doubt in you, and foolish notions of nobility still hiding in the corners of your mind," the prothean said. "You must extinguish that misguided hope and replace it with a resolve of steel, Commander, if you are to be the one to win this war. You must be ready to sacrifice armies. Friends. Lovers. Even worlds. History may label you a butcher, but only if there are those left to write it."

"Don't worry about that, Javik. There's nothing holding me back anymore," he assured the warrior.

He heard the anger in his own voice and wondered if it was his own or if it came from touching the mind of the prothean. Shepard had felt that nearly infinite pool of rage on their first contact, but it was deep: like a great underground lake. In the end it didn't matter, the two might have been one and the same, Javik's mind only a mirror of his own. He moved towards the door, the conversation clearly over, making the prothean one last promise as he left.

"One way or the other the cycle will be broken. I swear it."

Javik nodded.

"Then maybe we can both be free of the path that has directed our fates."


Less than a day later the Normandy arrived in an out of the way system in the Annos Basin, gliding through space with her stealth systems active. The location of the war summit had been chosen only eighteen hours earlier and in a system with no inhabited planets or asteroids. Sensors picked up over half a dozen vessels, two of them turian cruisers along with a heavy frigate that bore no markings of affiliation, and one of them an enormous dreadnought. Salarian, it would appear, from the curved and flowing hull.

"Holy shit."

"Don't tell me you're looking at Fornax while piloting again, Joker."

"Commander! One time..." the pilot grumbled, pointing at the screen. "I was surprised because of this. Look. How many ships show up on sensors?"

He leaned over the pilot's chair and counted.

"Six. Four cruisers, two frigates..."

"See the problem?"

"The dreadnought. The damn thing has stealth capabilities?" he asked in surprise.

Joker shrugged. "That or EDI's just messing with me."

"I would not 'mess' with you in such a fashion, Jeff. The salarian dreadnought appears to be using a stealth system similar to the Normandy's. I am detecting no residual heat or radiation signatures. If we did not have visual confirmation we would not know it was there," EDI said.

Normally such a comment would have come from a glowing blue orb. It was certainly a change of pace to look to his right and see a physical form there looking back, a face with expressions and nuances. Joker was apparently equally enthralled even after having the better part of a day to get used to her presence, smirking broadly every time he looked over.

"By the way, Commander, I'm going to say again I totally had no idea. But, also; totally not complaining."

"Uh huh," he grunted skeptically. "Drop us out of stealth and announce our presence. We need to get this show on the road."

"We have already been hailed by the Turian delegation. I have confirmed that Primarch Victus is safely aboard," EDI said. "The other vessels belong to the volus and krogan, while the dreadnought is of course for the salarian delegation. The SSV Agincourt is also present."

Joker rolled his eyes.

"Of course. Because who else would make stealth dreadnoughts that look like giant fish."

"If they work on the Reapers I don't care what they look like. Get those people aboard, I'll be waiting with Victus in the conference room. And EDI, ask Javik to join us."

"Of course, Shepard."

In truth he had hoped for more. The asari Councilor had already informed him of their own intention not to attend, believing that no military alliance could be formed of a group containing the krogan along with their ancient enemies, the turians and salarians. She had made it clear that she considered the entire effort a waste of time and that the asari would concentrate on defending their own borders. Three of the four Council races was nothing to scoff at, but they needed every ship and soldier they could get.

Even as the various representatives were boarding EDI was feeding him information. Chatter that she'd intercepted between the salarian dalatrass and other vessels did not bode well. Apparently he was going to have to continue to play politics while the the galaxy burned. He decided to at least take advantage of what he could, waiting in the conference room already seated with Primarch Victus. He had instructed Javik to wait in the war room unless he called. The prothean would make an excellent shock tactic and give him a great deal of leverage... but he hated to tip his hand that early. Javik's very existence was one more edge they had against the Reapers and the longer they were in the dark about it the better.

Unsurprisingly, Hackett was the first to arrive.

"Admiral," Shepard said, extending his hand to greet the older man warmly.

Hackett returned the gesture with a firm grip.

"Shepard, good to see you in the flesh again. I wish it was under better circumstances."

"So do I. Admiral, this is Primarch Victus."

The turian stood and he was surprised to the Admiral immediately go for the more traditional forearm grip when he greeted the man. Clearly the gesture earned him some points as Victus gave him a respectful nod.

"Admiral. A strange day. Thirty years ago this sort of meeting was the result of us warring with each other. Now we face a common enemy," Victus said. "Times change quickly. You speak for all of your people?"

There was a note of skepticism in the turian's voice. Not terribly surprising, though, as most turians thought of humans as factitious and overly individualistic. The idea that that a single person would speak for them likely seemed odd. But then the only time they had seen a united front was during the First Contact War in the infancy of the Systems Alliance.

"I do. All of Earth's remaining military forces will follow my command. Our remaining colonies will do the same. We're fighting for survival, Primarch."

The doors opened once more and Shepard couldn't suppress a smile as an enormous, familiar form lumbered into the room. A deep laugh filled the relatively small room as the krogan approached, grabbing his offered arm in a firm grip.

"Shepard!"

"Wrex," he replied, earning another chuckle.

"Never thought this day would come, but here I am. I told you when the time came the krogan would answer the call," Wrex said.

"I never doubted you. Wrex, this is Admiral Hackett and Primarch Victus."

Wrex examined both carefully, smirking at Hackett. "Good scars. You've seen battle, human. I like that. This is how a war should be fought; by warriors, not politicians."

"The politicians are supposed to prevent the war in the first place," Victus interjected. "But this time there's no peace possible."

The krogan grunted. "At least you figured that out. Who are we waiting on?"

"Them," Shepard said, gesturing at the opening door.

Two figures entered, the first was round and squat, shuffling into the conference room. The volus did not cut impressive physical figures, but they had made their way in the galaxy with ambition and a keen grasp of economics, almost single handedly helping establish the Turian Hierarchy as a major economic power after accepting the invitation to join the Hierarchy as a client race. The second figure was wearing robes much like those worn by the salarian Councilor, though colored differently. If the moniker hadn't been enough of a clue EDI had informed him that Dalatrass Linron was, indeed, female. A first for Shepard. Looking at her he could only conclude there wasn't a great deal of difference. Her face seemed slightly more elongated than the males of her species and she was definitely taller by a few inches, but that was where the differences ended.

Once they had all taken seats around the table he spoke.

"Thank you all for coming. I don't think I need to explain the threat that we're currently facing."

"No... ah... we are well aware... ah... of the power of the Reapers," the volus said, sucking in breaths within his environment suit. For some reason the volus as a whole seemed perpetually out of breath. "One of our commerce stations... ah... was destroyed hours ago. I am Kun Raken. I am authorized by the Protectorate to make any... ah... necessary decisions as our ambassador."

"We're glad for any support you can provide."

Hackett cleared his throat. "The simple fact of the matter is that to have any chance of successfully stopping the Reaper advance we are going to need more than financial support or even ships."

"What do you propose?" the dalatrass asked.

The Admiral nodded and Shepard opened his omni-tool, causing an image of the Crucible to spring to life.

"I have already shown this to the Council, but they were too stubborn to see the need for unity. This is what we call the Crucible. A weapon designed by the protheans to stop the Reapers. It's a massive undertaking - it will require time and resources to build. Time the Reapers won't simply give us."

"Hmm... a weapon?" Wrex peered closely at the image.

"As best we can tell," Hackett confirmed. "The potential energy output is massive and all records from the prothean archive indicate they were certain that the weapon would end the invasion."

Shepard picked up where he left off. "The issue is that we can't build something like this in a week. Or even a month. We can get started fabricating parts, but assembly, testing... we need a base of operations for that. And while we're doing that we need to keep the Reapers engaged."

"Which is why you need our fleets?" Victus suggested dryly.

"The Hierarchy has the largest fleet in Council space, even with the losses you've already suffered you probably have half again the ships and manpower that we have left," Admiral Hackett said. "We can fight the Reapers - we're learning new tactics every day - but we can't do it alone."

The Primarch rested his elbows on the table, looking toward Hackett before focusing his attention on Wrex.

"I spoke to Commander Shepard about this already. I'm willing to provide our fleets to this grand alliance, but not while the Reapers grind our homeworld into dust. This war is a ground war now and to have a chance of holding them on Palaven we need powerful support. We need the krogan."

He could see Wrex's nostrils flare, eyes narrowing.

"You want our help, turian? And what makes you think if I sent soldiers to your world they wouldn't just jam a blade between your plates? Did you forget the genophage? Because we certainly haven't."

Victus' reply was surprisingly diplomatic. "No. And I won't try to pass it off as ancient history. I know what it's done to your people, krogan, but we don't have time to worry about what our ancestors did. The Reapers-"

"Will speed up my people's extinction a hundredfold if we send our warriors to your world," Wrex countered.

Shepard sighed, this very argument having played out in his mind a hundred times. "Wrex... I don't agree with what was done. You know my opinion of the genophage. But if we don't stop the Reapers, then the krogan will become extinct - along with all of our species."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to volunteer us to go first," the krogan said. "But if the turian is going to make deals, I can too."

The entire delegation blinked in surprise at the sudden change of tone. Victus spoke up first.

"Trying to draw out negotiations won't get you anywhere. I don't have the time or the patience. Just tell us what you want."

Wrex's laugh rumbled once more and he spread his arms wide.

"I want the one thing that will help us. I want a cure for the genophage."

The dalatress gasped. "Absolutely not! The genophage is not an item to be negotiated!"

There was an immediate flurry of further exclamations, denials, and confusion. He let it ramble on for a few long moments before slamming his hand on the table, bringing silence down on the room once more and looking directly at his old friend.

"The truth is, Wrex, if I know how to get that I'd already have offered it."

The krogan inclined his head. "I know you would, Shepard. You're a true battle brother."

"Or a naive fool. Either way it is irrelevant, there is no cure for the genophage and no salarian will be helping you look for one," the Dalatrass said. Linron was her name apparently, according to the update EDI had just sent to his omni tool. She had clearly aimed to place herself in a position of power by not introducing herself, or at least trying to put others at a disadvantage.

"Why are you so against this, Dalatrass?" Shepard asked.

She turned her attention to him, lips curled in a small sneer of contempt. "Because it was our people that uplifted the krogan and we know them best."

Wrex threw up his arms in frustration. "You uplifted us to fight a war you couldn't win! It was krogan blood that stopped the rachni! Not salarians, not turians. Krogan!"

"And then you ceased to be useful," the Dalatrass snapped. "The genophage was the only way to keep your base 'urges' in check! We uplifted them to wage war, it's the only thing the brutes know how to do."

"Wrex is right," Victus interjected, much to everyone's surprise, most of all his own. "His people won our war for us... and if we want them to help us win this one we have to give them a chance. Insulting him won't change that."

"Irrelevant. You cannot bargain for something that doesn't exist."

"Funny thing about that..." Wrex rumbled. "Because my sources say you have a fertile female at one of your STG facilities. And that sounds a lot like the start of a cure to me."

The Dalatrass' eyes widened, mouth moving slightly before she quickly regained her composure. It had been long enough, though, causing Shepard's brow to raise. That kind of reaction was either a very well-acted false tell or Wrex had just struck a very telling blow to salarian counter-espionage and intelligence.

"I do not know what you are talking about, krogan. We have none of your females," Linron replied crisply. "Your delusions have no place in this meeting."

"Delusions? I'm not an idiot, salarian, listening to rumors in the streets of Omega and taking them as the words of shamans. I have proof. Shepard can verify it."

"I can?"

The krogan reached to his belt and sent a datapad spinning across the desk and into his hands. Opening up the only file that appeared to be on the device and immediately linking it to the main display, a video of some sort of scientific facility began to play onscreen. Inside glass cells was were the blurry outlines of krogan. Wrex's voice was angry when he spoke.

"A salarian, Maelon Heplorn, grew a conscience. He was doing experiments on our females trying to find a cure."

"Barbaric ones," Shepard interrupted.

"I know. But what you didn't know is that some of the females survived. And the Dalatrass here sent in an STG team to clean it up. Those are my people. Our best hope for defeating the genophage."

"This... this is a fabrication!" Linron stammered.

"Shepard, activate the VI security."

He did so, the small glowing outline of a salarian head appearing at the bottom of the video.

"Identify," the VI demanded. He could swear it sounded familiar.

"Commander John Shepard, SSV Normandy."

"Detect slight lowering in harmonic range, indicates fatigue. Should attempt to get more sleep. Also, drink fluids. Identity confirmed. Verification of authenticity of supplied data needed?"

Shepard smirked. That was definitely a familiar voice. "Yes."

"Of course. Assuming you have figured out my identity. Need phrase not used with any others. Only in private. Hmm. Apologize for breaking doctor patient confidentiality; but continued survival of galaxy takes precedent. Commander Shepard, verification phrase: 'do not ingest'."

He blinked and did his best to keep the heat from rising to his face. Of all the phrases the doctor could have used, that was the one he chose? Amazingly bizarre and yet completely typically if he thought about it. The other delegates were looking at him expectantly.

"It's real. I'd stake my life on it," he confirmed, getting a smirk from Wrex.

"This is true, Dalatrass?" Victus demanded.

Clearly on the defensive now, the salarian looked between Hackett, Victus, and Wrex, shaking her head. "What does curing the genophage do to assist my people? Make us the target of krogan vengeance?"

"It gets you allies," Hackett said plainly. "How long do you plan on holding out against the Reapers without support? Because if you don't help us - that's how it will be."

"And I'll be the last friendly turian you ever see," Victus added, voice icy.

Shepard couldn't help but smile darkly. Javik would approve of that particular line of thinking... and he hadn't even had to call upon the prothean to shock the delegates into agreeing. From the slump of Linron's shoulders he could see that they had won. Already variables were probably running through her head, calculating the military strength of the salarian fleets and Reaper capabilities, coming to the same conclusions they all had.

Her voice was filled with resignation, head bowed, fingers rubbing her forehead. "The females are being kept at an STG base on Sur'Kesh."

"Ha!" Wrex said, slamming his fists on the table and looking to him. "Let's go get the females!"

"What?" the dalatrass' head snapped up. "You're not setting foot on Sur'Kesh. This will take-"

"This happens now," Victus stated firmly. "Shepard is a Council Spectre. He has all the authorization he needs to handle the exchange."

He was rapidly deciding that he liked this Primarch. The man reminded him of a slightly more rule-abiding Garrus. The hard edge was definitely there and there was no question that he acted decisively. If only there were a few thousand more like him to go around.

"It's settled then," Wrex said.

"EDI?" Shepard asked.

"I have already plotted a course for Sur'Kesh. As soon as the delegates have returned to their respective vessels we can depart."

"Excellent. I think that concludes this war council for now?" Hackett asked.

"Ah... one item..." Kun Raken interjected. He had almost forgotten the volus in all the back and forth.

"Yes, Ambassador?"

"The Protectorate... ah... has few military resources to offer to this alliance," he stated. "But we are not... ah... completely incapable. Clearly we must all... ah... stand together if we are to survive. We will place all... ah... fleets at the Hierarchy's disposal upon completion of the agreement with Krogan-clan."

Victus inclined his head at the small alien. "Thank you."

"We have... ah... one particular item I believe you will be interested in, Primarch. She is called the Kwunu."

"What?"

A flash of blue showed outside the the windows of the conference room as another ship dropped out of FTL nearby. The ship shared most of its design with the turian dagger like sense of aesthetics but appeared to be somewhat broader... more of a sword than a dagger. And it was massive, clearly a dreadnought class ship. EDI's hologram appeared above the table.

"New vessel detected. Her barriers are down to allow for a full scan. Confirmed, the vessel is the Kwunu of the Vol Protectorate," she said, and he actually heard a note of surprise in her voice. "Commander, I am detecting approximately a ten percent increase in mass compared to current known specifications of Hierarchy dreadnoughts. In addition I am detecting a primary spinally-mounted Thanix cannon... and multiple Thanix cannons mounted in a broadside array. Each of these mounts are roughly equivalent to sixty percent power of the Normandy's main guns."

"Courtesy... ah... of Rupe Elkoss and the Elkoss Combine," the volus said. "If the... ah Hierarchy is going to lead us... ah... to war, then a Primarch should have... ah... a flagship of appropriate stature."

The expression on Victus' face was one he'd learned well from Garrus. It was a predatory smile.

"I think we can agree on that, Ambassador."


The Dalatrass had spoken of dire consequences and in veiled threats, but all in all it had gone better than he expected. Curing the genophage was no small matter but they weren't starting from scratch. Wrex's 'source' would be the one to figure it out if anyone could and if there were still fertile females alive from Maelon's experiments that could only help their chances. While he'd have preferred to have gotten all of the disparate forces to unite against the Reapers some was better than none.

The volus' unequivocal support had come as something of a surprise to Shepard. They had always been jealous of the human race's induction to the Council and he'd expected more political maneuvering from some of the galaxy's most shrewd traders and businessmen. In an odd turn of events it appeared that the businessmen were the only ones logical enough to accept that there was no way to benefit from a war for survival. The only profit was their continued existence and to ensure it they had agreed to supply to the Hierarchy, and any allying forces, with all the manpower and material they could ask for. Getting the production capabilities of the Elkoss Combine behind them it was no small gesture, considering the aforementioned conglomerate had managed to single handled fund the construction of a dreadnought using some of the most advanced technology in Council space.

Now he stood in the war room with Wrex on one side, Garrus and Javik on the other. The delegates had already departed: Victus taking command of the Kwunu and the others returning to their prospective fleets. He'd called the remainder of the team to meet there but while they waited there was a brief moment of quiet. Wrex's throaty laugh broke the silence.

"Never thought I'd see the day a turian was taking my side in an argument against a salarian," Wrex said. "I always thought I'd come to regret letting you destroy that base on Virmire... good to see I was wrong."

"I do not understand the logic behind this genophage," Javik interjected.

The krogan laughed again. "And you found a prothean alive and kicking. Only you, Shepard."

"The genophage was designed to keep the krogan's prodigious breeding rate in check," Garrus responded to the prothean. "Our leaders at the time decided that if they didn't use it then the krogans would just outbreed us and eventually overwhelm the galaxy."

Javik shook his head. "Foolish. If you had your enemy in a position to destroy them then you should have done so. It is the way of the galaxy. One should not prolong the extinction merely out of a misguided sense of mercy."

"We aren't extinct yet. And if I have a say in it we never will be," Wrex growled.

He decided it was time for a change of subject.

"That's why we're doing this. Garrus, what about Victus? Hopefully that new ship will help bolster morale and I saw him and Hackett speaking after the meeting. They looked pretty intense."

"Seems they're both old soldiers. Last time I saw them before they hit the airlock Victus was explaining how you could make a micro-FTL jump with dreadnoughts to put them inside the Sovereign-class Reapers' optimal firing arcs," the turian explained.

"Sovereign class?"

"We're turians; we have to have a classification for everything. The first Reaper we technically encountered was Sovereign, so..."

"Wonderful. At least we did blow that one to hell."

Javik nodded appreciatively. "In my time we managed to destroy a handful of the largest Reaper ships, but usually only through suicidal ramming attempts. Without the relay network our fleets were simply too spread out to ever face the enemy with a unified front."

"Huh. You guys controlled the entire galaxy, thought you would have done better," Wrex mused.

"We fought the Reapers for three hundred years without reprieve," the prothean responded coolly, his tone becoming mournful. "Unfortunately our greatest strength was also our downfall."

Shepard leaned back against the bank of consoles, arching an eyebrow at the ancient soldier.

"What do you mean? If there's a particular weakness we should avoid..."

"No, it is not a weapon or a ship. In my time there were many races, but they were all prothean. The empire spanned every star system and all followed our lead. When the Reapers attacked the Citadel and began pouring through they destroyed the seat of our government. They knew where every fleet, every world, was located. They knew how to fight us, and as we were one unified whole we could not adapt. Too long we had known ourselves to be the undisputed masters of our domain."

"Everyone runs the same playbook... and the Reapers had already read the whole thing," Garrus muttered.

The prothean nodded, apparently understanding the idiom. "Indeed. We had fought countless wars with the same tactics and technologies. When they did not work against our new enemy we had no other options to fall back on. Half of our empire fell in the first year. Only desperate measures and the Reapers' own deliberate pace allowed us to hold out for centuries longer."

On that grim note the war room doors opened, admitted the rest of the team. EDI had led the way in her new sleek, silver form, with a very wary looking Lieutenant Vega trailing behind. Much to his surprise Kasumi hadn't bothered to cloak herself and was instead chatting with Liara in an animated fashion. Maybe the thief had become more trusting. Or she'd simply been preoccupied.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen... and, uh, AIs?"

EDI cocked her head. "My personality matrix and this new physical body both conform to female patterns. I believe I would fall under the 'ladies' classification."

"Good enough for me," he said over Kasumi's snickers. "I assume by now you've been informed that we have set course for Sur'Kesh?"

Nodding heads confirmed his statement.

"Our mission is simple. We're going to extract a number of surviving krogan females from STG 'care'. Fertile females."

Liara looked more than a little surprised. "I had heard nothing about this..."

"Even the best intelligence network in the world isn't flawless. Especially with the STG are the ones hiding the information. The ultimate goal of this mission is not quite so simple, however," he continued. "Wrex?"

The krogan smiled, grin of all pointed teeth and wrinkled leathery skin. "We're going to cure the genophage. The thousand year punishment of my people is going to end."

"Whoa. I mean, is that like... even possible?" Vega asked.

"The source of the information would indicate to me yes. And we need the krogan if we're going to win this war. In space Reapers are outmatching us at every turn, but no war is won from space alone. And on the ground I think a battalion of krogan warriors will give them a fight like they've never seen," Shepard said.

"Oh we'll give them a fight," Wrex added, slamming his fists together.

He scanned the assembled faces. "EDI, I promised you that you'd come on the next ground mission with me but I don't think this will be much of a test. The salarians might not like the deal we made but I can't see the STG attack us. I'm going to bring Javik and Garrus with me on the ground just in case. Liara, I believe you were still working on the data that EDI had extracted from Cerberus'... her new body?"

The asari smiled wistfully. "Yes. There is a wealth of knowledge there. I had hoped that Javik would be able to assist me in decrypting it all, but I'll manage."

"As I stated before, asari, if you wish me to translate I am capable; but my knowledge of our technology is that of a soldier. I can repair a damaged component or understand how to use our weapons, but I did not design them nor the security that now protects them," Javik said.

Kasumi piped up. "I can help with that if you don't need me on the ground."

"Please do," he agreed. "I don't think taking you to an STG base is the best idea. If there's anywhere in the galaxy that someone might know you it would be there. The last thing I need is the salarians trying to use your presence as an excuse to hold things up."

"No worries. I'll play computer geek, Shep. It'll be a nice change of pace from my new life of being shot at. Some of us aren't nearly as fond of it as you are."

He could see Garrus' shoulders shaking in poorly concealed amusement.

"What about me, sir? Shouldn't I be on the ground with you?" Vega inquired, hands at his back in a parade rest.

"I'm afraid not. This ship is barely half crewed and I'm taking Garrus with me... that makes you the officer on deck while I'm planetside."

The lieutenant blinked. "Sir? I'm pretty sure I slept through naval tactics in OTS. I don't think I'm qualified to be in charge of a ship. Much less the Normandy."

Shepard saw how the man's muscles were drawn tight, flexing with nervous energy. While Vegas' gaze never wavered he could tell there was something more to his objection than just a simple soldier not wanting feeling qualified to take command. That wouldn't have flown in officer training and certainly not in the field, and he knew that Vega had commanded squads in the field before. Still, it wasn't a discussion for the current time or setting.

"You'll do fine, just keep her in one piece. EDI can handle anything mundane - but I need an officer on deck that can make a call if the need arises. Joker is a damn good pilot and a friend, but he hasn't been in the field. You have, so that puts you in charge while Garrus and I are on the ground."

After a moment's hesitation Vega answered. "Yes, sir."

The Spectre smiled. "Good, now let's go knock on the STG's door and ask if they have any spare krogan females."

Wrex's laughter was still echoing in the war room when he left.