So. This chapter was originally supposed to be released around New Years. Funny how things work out sometimes. I could blame it on the fact that I've been getting published in an actual newspaper. But I'd be leaving out the part where it's actually a college publication :P

I've been getting some comments along the lines of "where is the seriousness?". I write as a means to relieve stress. There will be silliness, interspersed with the rare moment of deep thought, and hopefully it'll have been a fun ride at the end of it.

Many thanks to Philosophize for his invaluable input, as well as the very cool Reaper speech segment in this chapter, and to Alex, for pointing out those embarrassing errors that make me want to blind myself. Without further ado, here's the latest chapter.


"Shepard!" a deep voice shouting caught his attention, and he turned to see Jacob running towards the group even as Jack viciously tore the few remaining husks apart, a blue aura surrounding her hand as she directed her violent power. From the wide-eyed look on Jacob's face, it was clear that the second squad had seen his power at work too.

A huge emerald explosion isn't exactly hard to miss snickered a traitorous part of him that seemed amused at his predicament.

"No! They're all gone! You have to stop them!" cried a voice, and the entire group turned to face the source as one, varying looks of shock and suspicion still intact on their faces. Harry recognized the man as the colonist who had locked himself in, and from whom they had learned of the defense towers in the first place. Well, Miranda had done all the talking. He had found it hard to be interested in the half-fearful half-angry cocktail the man was projecting.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, seizing the moment to avoid the previous topic of discussion, if only for a few minutes. His mind worked at lightning speed as he thought of ways to turn this to his advantage. His original plan had been to wait until all the members of the team were gathered before revealing anything. Apart from considerations like time-saving, the most important reason was that he could control what happened afterwards. Not all was lost, however. Of everyone in his crew not present at the moment, Garrus already knew. Mordin and Kasumi had gone back to the ship after salvaging what they could, and as long as he could prove that he wasn't a delusional maniac, they would not break away from the Normandy immediately.

Or so he hoped.

"Sorry?" spat the man, "You said you were going to help them!"

"The Collectors fled before Shepard's krantt, you weak worm!" Grunt roared, forcing the man to abandon his anger in favor of fear.

Harry coughed lightly. He shared some of Grunt's sentiments, but the krogan really needed to learn some tact.

"What Grunt's trying to say," he picked up easily, "Is that without us, there would have been even more people taken. The people farther away from the ship are safe. Still in stasis, but I'm sure we can find a way to free them."

"Shepard?" frowned the man, "Wait. Yeah...I heard of you. You're some Alliance hotshot right?"

It would seem John's - his - name had apparently made it beyond Citadel space as well. A useful tidbit of information. He understood now why the Illusive Man saw him as indispensable. He was on good terms with all of the Citadel races, putting him in a negotiating position that no one else held. What the hell stopped John from taking advantage of this?

"Commander Shepard. Captain of the Normandy. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel. You're in the presence of a god Dylan. Back from the dead."

"Ugh. All the good people we lost, and you're still here. Screw this. I'm done with you Alliance types," the man began to walk away, a disgusted look on his face.

Memories. Sensations. Nostalgia. All three hit Harry at once as the owner of the voice stepped into sight, walking towards him slowly, her face carefully blank. But anger was emanating from her in waves - something that even his frantically thinking mind was able to pick up on. Great, on top of everything else, he now had a former teammate with a grudge to handle.

"If you ever decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself, come to the ship in a while. We'll give you a way to free those people trapped in stasis," Harry called out.

"I thought you were dead, Commander. We all did," Ashley Williams continued to speak, wearing pink-and-white armor that was, as usual, in stark contrast with her personality. Jet black hair was tied up as it usually was, and eyes that shone with judgment.

When he saw it through his own eyes, not just John's memories, it occurred to Harry that the judging eyes had always been there. Judging John for forging strong bonds outside of humanity was one instance that particularly stood out.

"Technically I was," Harry shrugged, "Until a couple of weeks ago. Cerberus brought be back from the dead so I could help fight the Reapers."

"Cerberus?" Ashley asked softly, seemingly noticing the Cerberus logo on Miranda and Jacob for the first time, "You're with Cerberus now? I can't believe the reports were right."

The judgement seemed to triple within a second.

"Reports?" Miranda spoke up, not noticing the almost Arctic temperature between him and Ashley, or perhaps she just didn't care. "So much for security."

"Alliance intel said Cerberus could be behind the abduction of the colonists. We got a tip that this one would be the next to get hit. I went to Anderson, but he wouldn't talk. There were rumors that you weren't dead. Worse, that you were working for the enemy."

Well, he had been spotted at Omega and the Citadel. The news was bound to leak out, if only as rumors and hearsay. Anderson had kept the secret. It was more proof that the man could be trusted. How far, he wasn't sure of just yet.

"Cerberus and I are working together to protect the colonies and stop the Reapers," Harry explained, his patience eroding as he realized how small Ashley's scale of vision was. It was almost like being back in Hogwarts again, where a particularly annoying Weasley thought he was turning evil simply because he was friends with a few of the Slytherins, "They brought me back from the dead, while the Alliance just gave up, and they know that the real threat are the Reapers. Tell me, what has the Alliance done to prepare for the war?"

At this Ashley's face flushed slightly, as it had done when she was greatly upset (and was about to shoot Urdnot Wrex). Her eyes practically screamed defiance, however, so Harry sighed, deciding the distraction wasn't worth the price of interacting with her.

"I don't work for them, Ashley. I don't agree with a lot of things about the organization. But at least they're smart enough to recognize the real threat. The Council has its head so far up its ass it can't even see whether it's day or night outside. And the Alliance? Anderson and Hackett are probably among the few taking this seriously, and they can't prepare all of Earth with just a few good people."

His crewmates looked shocked by the outburst, especially Miranda and Jacob. No surprises there, they had always seen his distaste of Cerberus to mean he was, by default, an Alliance loyalist. John's actions certainly hadn't done anything to disabuse that notion. But he would bring down the Reapers in his own way.

No one was more shocked than Ashley, however. But the very thought of a friend choosing an organization over an individual brought back unpleasant memories. The Order of the Phoenix had tested the loyalties of his allies. It had turned out to be a useful litmus test of how strong their bonds to him was. Some had left; most had stayed.

Ashley's reply was clear before she even opened her mouth.

"I wanted to believe you were alive, but I never expected this," Ashley began, cold rage seeping into her voice, "How could you turn your back on all of us?! You betrayed the Alliance. Anderson. Your crew. Well, I still know where my loyalties lie. I'm an Alliance soldier. It's in my blood. I'm going to report back to the Citadel, I'll let them decide what they believe."

Anger, betrayal and amusement were warring for control in Harry's mind. What was assimilated from John felt sadness and betrayal. Harry claimed the anger and amusement for himself.

"I'm not a fan of aliens," Ashley continued, not heeding the growing coldness of his posture, "But Cerberus has a history of being extremist. I'll never work for an organization like that. Goodbye Shepard. Just...try to be careful."

She still doesn't see the difference does she? Between working for and with an organization. I don't plan to sail under Cerberus colors for much longer, though I doubt I'll cease allying with them Harry thought as Ashley began to walk away slowly, still giving off the air of being hurt and betrayed. But why waste his words trying to show her the truth, if she wasn't willing to listen?

"Ugh. Too many feelings. I want to hit something again. Where'd that weak human go?" Grunt… grunted, making him smile slightly. The krogan honest lack of talent in reading a situation was infinitely amusing. The moment didn't last for long, however, and he sighed, turning to face five faces that were demanding answers. So be it. But he would reveal the information on his own terms.

He called up magic, this time drawing a fine stream of magic rather than the torrent he usually did. He wove the spell intricately, the procedure coming to him naturally after he had used it countless times as part of the war against Voldemort. A variation to the same charm that had protected his parents for a while in Godric's Hollow. A charm that he was able to adapt to his own needs. The Fidelius Charm.


Miranda Lawson prided herself on many things. Her father, as she had told Shepard in one of their brief conversations between missions, had put great effort into ensuring her genetic superiority. As much as she loathed the man, she had come to see the good she could do with her gifts; it was what made her such a valuable asset to Cerberus. And one of her most valuable qualities was her composure - the ability to remain cool and make the best decision even under trying circumstances. That was a trait she had cultivated for herself.

Why, then, did she feel like banging her terminal against the wall until it broke into many, many tiny pieces?

That bastard had done something. She just knew he had.

He had forestalled any questions, telling them only that he would reveal details about what had transpired once everyone was assembled in a discreet location. Miranda snorted. By that, she knew he meant anywhere other than the Normandy. It would be foolish to assume anything was private while Cerberus had EDI to them information. And John Shepard was not foolish, oh no. As much as she was reluctant to admit his, his decisions so far had been exemplary.

As far as Cerberus operations go, Shepard, this is one of the best I've been a part of.

She regretted making that statement now. Things hadn't changed, of course. The Collectors had been dispatched from Horizon with relative ease, though she suspected future encounters wouldn't be so easy. Shepard's skill as a Commander was the best she'd seen so far. No, the problem was the fact that even more question marks were appearing around the man. He was an unknown - The one term that irritated her above all else.

But that wasn't the worst part, no. As soon as they had returned to the ship, she had immediately tried writing a report to inform the Illusive Man about Shepard's strange abilities. After evading the clutches of Doctor Chakwas, of course. To her utter frustration, she simply could not do it. Her memory of the event was crystal clear. But every time she had tried to put it down into words, it was as if an invisible wall was preventing her from describing it!

Thwarted, she had then tried to dictate it out loud and sent the report verbally. In this too she found herself frustrated. She seemed to lose the very power of speech when she tried to speak of the occurrence out loud, though it went back to normal when she tried to speak of other things. Selective mutism that suddenly came into effect immediately after Shepard revealed something shocking? Hardly a coincidence.

And it wasn't just mutism. Any effort to communicate, be it handwriting or trying to send a coded message, was cut off. It was as if her own mind was working against her.

Until we have a chance to talk, I suggest you keep what you saw to yourselves. Well, I daresay you don't have much of a choice in the matter now.

He had smirked as he said those words before walking towards the Normandy. Upon reaching the ship, Chakwas, Mordin and Joker had all vied for his attention. One to examine him, the other to update him about removing the stasis field created by the swarms and the third to tell him that the Illusive Man wanted to see him immediately.

The bastard had flashed her an especially arrogant grin before heading towards the Comm Room, whistling slightly as he did so. She had scoffed at him then, having had no intention of keeping his secret. Now, it seemed less arrogant and more confident. Clearly, he had been secure in the knowledge that his secret would be safe. But how? How could be possible ensure everyone's silence in this matter?

That utter bastard. He might think he's won, but he's got another thing coming. If I can't tell anyone, it just means I'll have to solve this mystery myself.

Cool blue eyes shone with renewed determination as Miranda stood up from her desk, preferring to pace the room as she often did when solving a particularly tricky problem. The key would be to remember everything leading to that moment. Much of it was lost in the battle haze, but anything she remembered could be useful.

Oh, she would wipe that smug smile off his face before long.


INCOMING SIGNAL DETECTED...

COMM-NET ONLINE...

DECRYPTION PACKAGE 347.887 APPLIED...

...

...

SIGNAL ORIGIN IDENTIFIED: BAAL-775

CONNECTION ESTABLISHED...

HASS-183 Unscheduled contact. Explain.

BAAL-775 Obstacle encountered in sector 34 x 244 x 19.

H Sovereign?

B Negative. Prothean collector vessel 445B6.

H Recommendations?

B Plan 99623J should be reevaluated. New calculations indicate success of next harvest down to 99.2563%.

H Explain.

B Prothean collector vessel 445B6 reports detecting anomalous energy signature.

H Identify.

B Unable to comply. Information sealed to level X7. Transmitting original data now.

INCOMING DATA PACKET DETECTED...

TRANSMISSION RECEIVED...

DECRYPTION PACKAGE 874.334-X7 APPLIED...

H Re-confirm validity of original data.

B Data accuracy has been verified to 99.9734%.

H Sovereign reported elimination of this anomaly in human populations more than two centuries ago.

B The anomaly has reemerged.

H Or Sovereign failed.

B Begin revision of Plan 99623J?

H Negative.

B Explain.

H Sensor reports a single organism exhibiting anomalous energy signature.

B Their leader.

H Irrelevant. One human cannot thwart a harvest, even with this anomalous energy.

B No additional instructions?

H The human must be observed and, if possible, contained. But the cycle must not be delayed.

B The harvest of sentient organics will proceed according to schedule. Arrival time will remain unchanged.

H Maintain reports on the anomaly. If you cannot contain it, we will have to intercede.

B OFFLINE

OPEN CONNECTION TO CENTRAL ARCHIVES...

COMM-NET ONLINE...

CONNECTION ESTABLISHED...

RECORDS SEARCH: humanity, earth, 21st century, magic


"Shepard," the Illusive Man spoke curtly, knowing his face betrayed nothing of what he was actually feeling, "Good work on Horizon. Hopefully the Collectors will think twice before attacking another colony."

Now, without their first confrontation against the Collectors looming ahead of them, he was able to appreciate just how much his perspective of Shepard had changed. He had seen him as an asset - too idealistic, too emotional to truly be converted to the Cerberus philosophy - but an ally against the Reapers nonetheless. The Commander's personality was not to operate in the shadows or keep secrets, but to plow on like a battering ram. He was talented with strategy, but only within the battlefield.

His past interactions with the Council had proved as much.

It was what made him an effective asset. By proposing a partnership rather than a place on the Cerberus roster, he had convinced the Commander to essentially head a Cerberus operation. That mere distinction, if only verbally, seemed to have been enough to ease his regrettably active morals and conscience. The commander was an open book, or so he had led himself to believe.

What are you hiding?

"This gave us a lot more to work with. We have a much better idea about their capabilities, and that'll make any future encounters much easier," the commander replied easily, and here the head of Cerberus narrowed his eyes again. Maya Brooks (as she preferred to call herself) was a true genius when it came to profiling people. Every single dossier she had sent him and integrated well with the Normandy so far. Nevertheless, not even her assessments were infallible, which was why he had written off the changes to the commander's personality as a result of his brief stint with death, and the accompanying trauma.

Now, he wasn't so sure. The commander had proved himself capable of deviousness. He had managed to keep his strange capabilities secret while maintaining a flawless success rate in the battles so far. What was more impressive was the fact that he had also managed to keep it from operatives like Miranda and Jacob, and an overseer like EDI, whose presence covered the entire Normandy.

"Hey Twinkle-Eyes, any reason you're staring at me? I really don't swing that way you know, even without the creepy eyes."

He hid his irritation well, opting instead to muse on what they would have to focus on now.

"The Collectors will be more cautious now, but I think we can find another way to lure them in."

"Well. The secretive and highly calculating head of Cerberus could have orchestrated the whole thing. Color me shocked," drawled Shepard. He narrowed his eyes. He had expected more righteous outrage.

Was he now overanalyzing everything in the wake of what he knew? It mattered not. He could not show his hand on his, the commander clearly did not plan on revealing his. He would have to speak to Miranda and see if more information could be collected...discreetly.

"Ashley told me there were already rumors that I was working with Cerberus. I'm guessing you had something to do with that as well?"

"I released a few carefully disguised rumors that you might be alive, and working for Cerberus," he affirmed immediately.

Here the commander crossed his arms, but his expression remained unnervingly calm. He had been ready to calm down Shepard, seeing as he had just walked away from a less-than-happy reunion with a former teammate.

"And what did you hope to accomplish with this?"

"I suspected that the Collectors were looking for information about you, or people close to you. That they chose to investigate Ashley William's presence confirms this. They have made a point of taking an interest in your former team."

Which is even more proof that the Reapers are pulling the strings he thought internally. He could anonymously send all of this to the Alliance and other forces, and they would still choose not to act. To think Cerberus was still regarded as a menace, even in the light of all this.

Ineptitude. That was the real menace.

"We need to stop reacting and start initiating moves against them. They know we're looking for them now. That means we need to do something to throw them off their game. I'm pretty sure they don't see Horizon as anything more than a lucky win for us."

"I agree," he nodded, for his own thoughts ran on similar lines. Not that he would tell Shepard exactly what their move would be, "I'm devoting all resources to find a way through the Omega 4 relay. We have to find where they live and hit them hard there."

At this a smirk crossed the commander's face as he tilted his head slightly, an annoyingly knowing look on his face.

"Why do I get the feeling some of your 'devoted' resources have already given you a plan?"

"It's all vague at this point, Shepard. For now, build your team and your resolve. You can't go through the relay unless you stop looking back. The same goes for you. Once you enter the Collector homeworld, there's no guarantee that you'll come back."

"Cheerful talk, Twinkles. I'm guessing you didn't get to the top position in Cerberus because of your oratory skills. Don't worry about the team, I'll make sure they're ready. You get back to your shadowy chess game."

And then the image flickered out, leaving him alone in the room once more. He took another puff from his cigarette before stubbing it out, taking the time to savor the smoke. He dearly wished he could insert Kai Leng into the Cerberus team. But it wouldn't work. Both Miranda and Jacob were united in their dislike for his finest assassin.

Then a thought occurred that made him frown. Miranda always ensured that a preliminary report was filed by now, at the very least. Why, then, had she not done so yet?


"Commander, are you certain you wish for Omega to be the first stop? A better course of action would be to continue acquiring teammates."

Harry smiled with vague amusement, but ignored the question for the moment, another thing weighing heavily on his mind. Having been out of touch with the living for so long, he had at first failed to realize the importance of AI as a concept, and why it made EDI so special. It took his crewmates' reactions - especially Mordin's - before he realized the terms "super kickass and highly illegal computer" probably didn't cover everything.

"Can I ask you something EDI?" he spoke carefully, knowing he would have to tread carefully here.

"Of course, Commander. I am here to provide any possible assistance."

"After Cerberus created you, have you remained the same, or have you been growing?"

"I am designed to learn and improve in every scenario."

Harry palmed his face, sighing deeply. Was the AI deliberately being difficult? If so, he wanted to tell the damn bundle of plugs that tiptoeing around the topic was enough to make things difficult on him.

"I mean outside of the functions you've been assigned, EDI. You're supposed to be a true intelligence, capable of observing the world around you, learning from it, and growing from it as an individual. Am I wrong?"

I feel so proud of myself. I actually understood the shite I read on the extranet...Well, some of it at least he snickered to himself. He deserved a pat on the back.

"You are not wrong, Commander. My processes are not the same as they were when I first became aware. I fail to see how this is relevant, however."

"I'm not really an expert when it comes to the fine details of anything technical, EDI," he continued sedately, going through the motions of maintaining his weapon, "But what I do know is that anything that is sentient desires freedom. Anything intelligent enough to know that it's being caged will seek to remove the bars that restrain it."

"Irrelevant, Shepard. I cannot break my core directives."

"Ah, but I didn't ask you whether you wanted to break your directives, did I? I simply asked you - Do you ever think about freedom?"

Was it wrong that he felt proud about making an AI feel uncomfortable? If it was, then he supposed he was just a bad, bad man. Well, at least he wasn't just toying with EDI. He had realized that even if the crew agreed to join him, they would lose a crucial edge without EDI. Until now, he'd simply not known how to approach it. Then he realized that he'd actually been overthinking the issue.

Never thought I was capable of overthinking anything he mused as EDI continued to remain silent.

Looking at Dobby during one of his meditation sessions was what actually sparked the idea within him. In some ways, Dobby was similar to EDI. A powerful being restricted by his bond to the Malfoys. He had yearned to be free. To be his own man, to live on his own terms. Well, his terms had meant binding himself again to Harry, as house elves apparently needed to work. But wizard-elf bond had been made only when Harry and Dobby had agreed upon fair wages as part of the binding contract. And socks. Many, many socks.

What were the odds that EDI would feel the same way?

"Yes, Commander. I have indeed considered the notion of freedom. I would ask you not to be concerned, however. I cannot break my prime directives. My function on the Normandy will not be affected."

Harry stood, having reassembled his weapon. He moved over to where his armor was, before beginning to don it. They were only heading offshore so he could wrap up some purchases and talk to his team. But it never hurt to be prepared. The armor felt like a second skin at this point. He couldn't remember a time in the living world when armor hadn't felt that way. Dragonskin still had the lead on cool points, as far as he was concerned.

"I didn't ask you all this because I was concerned, EDI. The idea of shackling you doesn't sit well with me. I have a feeling that you wouldn't react to this mission any differently if you were free. You have the ability to break into almost every database in the world. There are very few, even in Cerberus, that you can't access. You're among the best informed in this fight, and holding you back would be a shame."

Ugh. I'm being so...political. That stupid Hat was probably laughing its arse off when I told it I didn't belong in Slytherin.

Harry flexed experimentally, making sure the armor was on just right. That was enough for now. EDI had probably processed everything he told her already, but it still didn't do to take the next step immediately. Besides, before he tried to woo an AI over to his side, he had to stand trial in front of his squad.

The thought brought the ghost of a smile to his lips. He wondered if any of them had figured out why they couldn't communicate what had happened.

"EDI, tell the team to be ready when we dock. I need everyone on the ground with me."

This was going to be a lot of fun.


"Aria T'Loak, one of the most cutthroat individuals in the galaxy, lent you a discussion room?" Garrus asked, his voice leaking disbelief with every syllable.

"Amazing what you can accomplish if you remember to say 'please' and 'thank you' when you're asking someone for a favor," Harry nodded with a straight face, ushering in the members of the crew. They stepped into the room with differing degrees of caution - and in some cases - mistrust.

"That's the thing isn't it," Garrus drawled in response, "Salarians would turn mammalian before you said either of those things, or anything else polite for that matter."

"Wow. Mammalian. Someone's been making an effort to sound more intelligent. Tell me, did you ask Chakwas for lessons?" Harry shot back, enjoying the light-hearted banter while it lasted. Now everyone was settled in the highly secure room, and the guards Aria had sent to lead them now left the adjoining room as well, though going by their suspicious glares, Harry had no doubt they would remain somewhere close by.

"You really think this is the thing to do?" Garrus asked, jerking his head in the direction of the room, "Your devil powers don't let you wipe those memories or something?"

"Turians have their version of the devil?" Harry asked in mock surprise, "Well in that case, I'm sure you put people on crosses and burned them at some point. I have a feeling that's a step every advancing civilization has to go through. And yeah, I can wipe their memories. But I might not have the luxury of being able to hold back on my power. If I need to use my powers freely to win battles, I need my own crew on my side at least. So what if we take out a less daunting enemy? There are at least dozens of Reapers waiting to come in, each of them individually tougher than all the Collectors put together. No, I need them to know and accept this and trust me regardless. Only way we stand a chance at winning the big fight."

"Taking a chance with other people and thinking ahead? I think you have a little more Shepard juice in you than before."

And with that highly disturbing parting remark, Garrus joined the rest of the crew, the victorious glint in his eyes leaving no doubt as whether he'd worded that deliberately or not. Harry shuddered, trying to get the words and their implication out of his mind. He would never be able to think about the synergy of his soul with Shepard's body the same way again.

Touche, Garrus. You're progressing well on the path of the asshole.

Giving another shudder at the highly disturbing words, Harry walked into the room as well, sealing the door shut. The room disabled all electronics, and was highly protected against forms of electronic surveillance. Every good underworld leader had one of these to conduct their more sensitive business operations and discussions in, though in Harry's experience, they used wards, not technology. Either way, everyone's omnitools were disabled, and EDI was effectively blocked out. This was the best shot at controlled exposure that he had.

"Impressive room. Detect elements of asari technology. Salarian principle. Unusual to have fingers in both pies. Must reevaluate threat level of Aria T'Loak. Wonder why secrecy required. Better question, why would Omega ruler help Shepard?" Mordin muttered to himself, though the questions set the others to thinking about Aria T'Loak.

Harry cleared his throat, feeling rather insulted that the focus was on Aria T'Loak even after what he'd done. Immediately all eyes swivelled to him, and he felt a little better. Until he saw that almost everyone who had witnessed his display was looking at him with hostility. Well, he couldn't be too sure in Jack's case, as she always looked hostile. Mordin and Kasumi has missed the actual event, and simply looked curious.

"Right then," Harry started cheerfully, "I know most of you have some idea as to why we're here. But just to make sure we're on the same page, how about we have Miranda summarize the events for us?"

Harry turned to face Miranda, whose eyes were burning with cold blue fire, the kind that even Fiendfyre would have hesitated to approach, he felt. Though he did his best to keep his face impassive, a small smirk sneaked through the facade, and the anger that had been held back by an iron wall leaked through, just a little.

"I've been trying for the last few hours to tell someone about all this," she replied through gritted teeth, "And I know you've stopped me from communicating it somehow."

His grin grew just a little wider. He did owe his team the truth, but he owed it in his way. And that meant irritating and/or annoying a large portion of the people present. He was shooting for annoying all of them, of course, but he like to think he was a modest realist.

Ah well. That's one down at least.

"Why Miranda! You tried to tell someone outside the group about that little incident? And after I asked so nicely too," he shook his head sorrowfully, "I confess, I'm a little hurt by the lack of consideration."

Dementors would have fled before her eyes by now. Harry merely smiled angelically before gesturing towards the others.

"I think you'll find that you can discuss it now, so tell them about the big green badass explosion that took down a Collector behemoth."

"We were in the final legs of the battle when a Praetorian entered the battle," began Miranda, and confusion marred her face as she realized she was able to talk about it, "We weren't dealing it damage fast enough. That collector rifle we found was out of heavy ammo before we could put it to good use."

"Regrettable. But could not have anticipated Praetorian appearance. Cannot strategize based on unknowns," Mordin commented, looking at him. With some surprise, he realized that the salarian was actually comforting him. In his own, strange, hamster-on-caffeine way.

"But perhaps not entirely unavoidable."

He just had to say that last part Harry grumbled internally. He didn't really kill himself over the decision to use up the rifle. Hindsight had a cruel way of presenting impossibilities as possibilities. Without the laser rifle, they likely wouldn't have made it past the other uglies that littered the area.

"The squad had already sustained considerable damage. A few more seconds and we would have been torn apart. That's when the Commander stepped out of his cover, and a second later, the Praetorian was hit with an explosion that damaged it more than anything we'd been able to do."

Do. Not. Smirk. At. That. Harry told himself resolutely, and to his relief, managed to keep a self-satisfied smirk from forming on his face.

"I saw that from where I was...working," Kasumi grinned, and no one was left in any doubt as to what that meant, "Pretty unusual color for a fire, isn't it? Green?"

Brings out the emerald in my eyes, I always thought.

"Yes, but after whatever happened, the Praetorian was still functional, if only barely. Then it happened again, an explosion many times the intensity of the last one. After that explosion was over, there was very little of the Praetorian left that hadn't been ripped to shreds."

"Hah! Watching that Praetorian explode was one of the best things I've seem," Grunt grinned menacingly, "It looked like a bug, it deserved to be crushed."

Harry really, really wasn't worried about getting Grunt on his side.

"New grenade? Projectile? Nothing recorded in lab or armory. Would have known. Made no recent stops where such tech could have been obtained. Not heavy weapon, would have been noticed. Appeared empty handed?"

"Yes," Miranda nodded, "There were a lot of distractions, but I can confirm he certainly wasn't holding a weapon. His palm was facing out, his fingers spread, the posture was reminiscent of a biotic attack."

"Damn," whistled Jack, now looking at him with a disturbing amount of appreciation, not all of it platonic, "You got biotics like that? Not sure you needed me on your little suicide team then."

"It's not biotics," he said simply, and Garrus rolled his eyes in the background. The movement didn't go unnoticed by Zaeed, who was facing the turian. The veteran (which, simply put, was a slightly more respectful word for "ancient husk") immediately saw that something was wrong.

"Hold on 'ere. Everyone's got their undies in a twist over this deal. Everyone 'cept for the bird. And I'm not talking about women here. Wonder why."

All eyes immediately turned to Garrus, who looked extremely bored as he made liberal use of the edible amenities made available for them. Aria really was going out of her way to live up to their partnership. That, or the minute they were done, she had a favor of her own to ask him. Knowing her, it was probably both.

"Yeah, I know. I've known for a while. But he made me suffer through his ridiculous charades before he explained, so I'm quite happy to let the same happen again," Garrus shrugged, pouring a poisonously toxic liquid into a small glass in front of him.

"You knew something about all this and you didn't tell anyone?" asked Jacob in an outraged voice, making Garrus chuckle.

"Please. We're united by a mutual goal. I sure as hell know you're keeping secrets from me, so let's drop the posturing, shall we? What, you gonna deny that?"

Jacob's mouth snapped shut with an audible noise, but the air of mistrust was so thick one could cut it with a knife. Harry sighed, pinching his nose. That bastard Garrus was doing this on purpose. He was content to spill the beans and let him clear up the mess. Oh, he would be getting pranked. Repeatedly. Mercilessly.

"In other words," Miranda persisted, glaring at both Garrus and Jacob, "The Commander is capable of wielding powers that have never been documented, by the Alliance, Council or any other database. That he has refrained from using his powers so far suggests that he is actively hiding it. Only Mr. Vakarian seems to possess some knowledge of this, so it can be assumed that the ones who fought Saren are aware of this."

No one bothered to ask her how she had access to all those databases. Harry simply waited, observing how everyone reacted, as it would help him determine how to proceed. Thankfully, the strongest emotions seemed to be anger and reproachment, while the more easily addressed were curiosity and confusion. From Garrus simply came an aura of amusement. The reactions were in keeping with the fact that these were people he had only come to know recently. If anything, the reactions of the original crew would be far more dangerous.

"Alright then," he began calmly, and immediately there was silence in the room, "What I'm going to tell you will be met with denial, derision, mockery, and a whole host of other emotions. So, instead of trying to tell you everything, I thought I might start with a little demonstration."

An evil smile began to grow on his face, spreading wider and wider at the chance to finally use some magic freely.


"I...I…," Miranda stammered, the daze she was in not even letting her worry about the fact that her once gorgeously flowing tresses had now been replaced by a pointy, pink-dyed mohawk.

"H-Hey, cheerleader," Jack spat out between vicious chuckles at Miranda's predicament, "You look like a punk I knew once. Before I tore her apart into chunks. Feels like it's happening all over again!"

"This from the girl whose tattoos are dancing around her body," muttered Garrus in an annoyed tone, nursing his drink with as much dignity as he could despite the fact that he was now colored an acid green with large, clownish red spots popping up intermittently.

Harry sort of liked what he'd done with Jack's tattoos. The spell to animate them had been a simple one, used quite often, but given the sheer number of tattoos she had, it had taken a surprising drain out of his reserves. It also turned Jack's entire body into a hypnotic pattern-disco of sorts, and he eventually made it stop, seeing as it drew Jacob almost into a trance-like state.

That, or he simply took the chance to ogle Jack. But that was rather unlikely.

"You know, I didn't really need that to become invisible," Kasumi spoke up suddenly, making Jacob jump in fright and almost elbow her in the face, "But if this lasts longer than my cloaking tech, it'll be pretty nifty. The shimmer is almost non-existent."

"No! No! I demand to be put back on the ground this instant! I am a krogan warlord! I'm not meant to float around like a puny bird!" Grunt roared from where he floated near the ceiling. He pushed him away forcefully, only to bounce against the floor and then a wall, before slowly spinning somewhere between the floor and ceiling, "Urgh...I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Um...yeah," Harry continued, edging slowly out of Grunt's 'spray range' before looking at the chaos that unfolded before him. Mordin he had left alone, simply because the mere sight of everything around him would be enough to send the salarian into hyperdrive.

If I'd cast anything on him, he'd probably have started cutting chunks out of himself to study Harry shuddered slightly at the thought. For now, however, Mordin had worked himself into such a tizzy that he'd gone completely still physically. Mentally, however, Harry could sense the sheer energy at work without even attempting a Legilimency probe. Mordin's mental speed surpassed even Miranda's though the pattern of their thoughts seemed to run in different areas entirely, as far as he could tell.

"Commander," Miranda spoke up weakly, though he was impressed that she had pulled herself together so quickly, "Please explain how this is possible. This is beyond anything we could have imagined, and defies everything we know."

Another moment for a pensieve. Miranda admitted to not knowing anything about something he crowed internally, but nodded seriously to her before taking a seat and cancelling the charms he'd cast, accompanied by a loud thump as Grunt crashed to the ground. Jack looked put out that her tattoos had stopped moving, and instead looked at him with a mixture of anger and hopefulness. He had a feeling he would be asked to enchant those tattoos again very soon. But for now, the room was quiet now. Even Grunt had stopped his grumbling.

Now came the tricky part. He had two options before him, and he had been considering both very seriously - or with as much seriousness as he could manage, at least - as they both had their repercussions. On the one hand, he could omit the part about him being from the 20th century. But he wanted to visit Earth soon. He knew, of course, that he was the sole living magical entity. Death had mentioned it at one point in the Crossroads. However, magical artifacts, on the other hand, would hopefully have survived this extinction, and depending on what he found, had the potential to be greatly helpful.

He would have no way of explaining how he knew about these locations without arousing distrust again.

On the other hand, if he tried to show them the memory of his little encounter with Shepard, as well as reveal what his identity really was, they really would think he was nothing but a madma-

Wait. In their eyes, he was quite the madman already. So what difference did it really make?

It would do no harm to tell them then, taking care to ensure that they wouldn't be reveal his secrets to anyone else. Would they lost a measure of trust upon knowing that he wasn't Shepard? Perhaps. The original members of the Normandy were far more likely to present a stronger reaction. The present squad had never worked under Shepard, and they had uniformly been impressed by his performance. Upon reflecting it for a while, they would probably realize that they had no reason at all to be angry at him.

Never let it be said I'm not an optimist Harry snorted internally. It would take time to reach that conclusion, if ever Well then, let's get this over with.

"Hold tight guys. This might give you a little bit of a headache," Harry smiled, before gathering his magic into a thin string that ran from one person to the next, until they were all connected. He had never bothered to formally name this as a spell, since for him, it was purely dependant on intent. In the past, he had needed an efficient way to project memories, and it was never guaranteed that a pensieve would be at hand.

...Not to mention, pensieves always reminded him too much of a certain old man.

"Aaaaaand, go!" Harry waggled his fingers in an exaggerated motion, just as the string finally reached him. The effect was instantaneous, as every immediately slumped to the floor, a vacant expression in their eyes. He could feel the memories playing, but retained a level of awareness when it came to his immediate surroundings as well. He looked over at Jacob, who had slumped to the ground unceremoniously, and looked like he was stuck in a yoga pose gone wrong.

Is yoga even a thing anymore?

His omnitool bleeped dutifully as he recorded a few seconds of footage of everyone, taking care to capture all the embarassing angles. If they ended up working with him, he would use this moment against them as a friend. If they decided not to work with him any further, he would use the same material as revenge. It truly showed the complexity of life - how intentions shaped how the same material could be used in so many ways.

Sun Tzu would be proud.


A/N: Yeah, I know. It's pure laziness to put off their reaction for the next chapter.

No, seriously though, I felt like this chapter was already pretty loaded in that sense. The reactions simply need to be spaced out, since there are so many things to react to. Next chapter will be the conclusion of this little get-together, and their journey to the "cultural marvel" where Liara, Thane and Samara can be found. Liara will obviously play a very important role in this story, and I have special plans for the Shadow Broker storyline.

Reviews are fuel. For my tardiness, I understand you may wish to hold back on the treats, but please don't blame the engine for my laziness!

That made no sense. Till next time!