Chapter 10: The Last Prothean
"A living Prothean?" Hackett asked in disbelief.
We had returned to the Normandy—yes, even Javik—just before several shuttles swarmed the colony. They tried to pursue, but we had too much of a lead. That and the fact that the first shuttle or two were blown out of the sky by the Normandy's guns. First thing I had done was after getting out of my hardsuit was to get on the vid-comm and contact Admiral Hackett. To say he was surprised by the exact nature of the 'Prothean artifact' would be an understatement. "That's correct, Admiral," I replied. "But he's not quite what we expected."
"Can he help us?" Hackett wanted to know.
"Maybe," I shrugged. "I'm not sure. To be honest, I got the sense he was more of a soldier than a scientist or engineer."
"Commander, our scientists and engineers barely understand what they need to do here," Hackett said. "We try to make sense of the blueprints, we think we have an idea. But when we try it out we find out we were hopelessly off course. If the Prothean can help us construct this device, we need his cooperation."
"Understood, Admiral."
Hackett shook his head. "We're losing colonies faster than we can evacuate. We've never seen a force like the Reapers."
"He has, Admiral," I told him with a certainty borne of my unusual experiences a few hours ago.
"Can he help us?" Hackett repeated.
"I intend to find out," I promised.
"Good," Hackett approved. "Cerberus slipped up and gave us a new asset. Don't let it go to waste. Hackett out."
Somehow, I didn't think Javik would appreciate being called an asset. But I suppose it could've been worse. Hackett could've called him something else. Like a weapon. But I kept that to myself and simply saluted.
As I walked out of the War Room, I eavesdropped on the guards' conversation. Because I'm nosy like that. "You see the Citadel when we were there on leave?" Campbell asked. "You'd never know there was a war on."
Westmoreland laughed bitterly. "They'll know soon enough. All those refugees have to go somewhere."
True enough. If Bailey's observations were accurate, the Citadel would be flooded with refugees very soon. I was on my way to the CIC when Liara contacted me. "Shepard, I need you down in the port cargo hold."
"There a problem?"
"It's about our new guest."
Aw, crap. Now what? "I'm on my way."
The doors to the port cargo hold were closed. There were two guards posted on either side, armed with assault rifles. Don't freak out, Shepard, I told myself. I gave them a salute before passing them. The doors opened at my approach and I entered the room.
Liara was there along with three more guards. Javik was sitting on a round carpet in a cross-legged pose, almost as if he was meditating. Liara seemed a bit frustrated. The soldiers—armed with a mixture of heavy pistols and assault rifles—weren't exactly tense, but they were definitely ready for trouble. "What's the problem?" I asked.
"I've tried to make the room more accommodating," Liara began.
She had. Most of the crates had been pushed into a corner or moved. There were floor-to ceiling drapes scattered around the cargo hold. And I thought I saw a long, shallow sink filled with water. Almost looked like a table. "Love what you've done with the place," I complimented her.
"But they're not letting me talk to him," Liara huffed.
The senior guard looked a bit sheepish. "Apologies, Doctor. Contact protocol with a new species: 'Assume hostility.' We had to dust off the regulations."
Right. Oops. Not exactly the most welcoming or enlightening of responses, I'll admit, but any thoughts of peaceful overtures went straight out the airlock when our first encounter with an alien species—the turians—sparked an inter-species war. (1) And created a lot of resentment against aliens in general and turians in particular, which definitely helped promote the creation of groups like Terra Firma or, say, Cerberus. After that, well, we hadn't exactly had a lot of chances to meet new species on our own.
Liara crossed her arms. The guard continued to look sheepish. Javik meditated.
"But he's not new," Liara finally said. "I've spent my life studying Protheans."
Yeah, she had. She might've had a career change in the last couple years, but that couldn't overcome decades of intense research, study and digging on more sites than I could imagine.
"At ease," I ordered. "I don't think our guest will be a problem."
The guards looked uncertain, but they lowered their weapons. Javik got to his feet as I approached. "Will he?" I asked.
"That depends on you," he replied. Then he lunged out and grabbed my arms. I braced myself for another flashback down memory lane. Or the Prothean equivalent at any rate. But nothing happened. I felt a sensation. Like I was trying to remember something. But that was all.
Apparently that was enough. "I can sense fear in you," Javik said. "Anxiety and distress. The Reapers are winning."
He let me go. I took a step back, only then realizing that the guards had raised their weapons. Motioning them to stand down, I was grateful that the 'assume hostilities' bit didn't lead to itchy trigger fingers. "You said that before. 'You sense.' What do you mean?"
"All life provides clues for those who can read them," Javik replied. "It swims in your cells. Echoes in your DNA. Resonates with everything you touch. Experience is a guide, one that can teach you much if you know where and how to look."
I waited for him to continue, but he seemed busy running his fingers through the water in the sink. "Then what exactly did I experience back on Eden Prime?" I asked. "That was a hell of a flashback."
"The battle left its own mark on me," Javik said over his shoulder. "I communicated this to you. It can work both ways."
"Like your beacons," Liara realized.
"Yes." Javik turned around. "Which…"
As he reached out, I mentally braced myself. Here we go again…
Creatures in a building, twisted in agony and despair…
Circuitry and flesh, woven together in unholy union…
Protheans in agony…
Protheans succumbing in despair…
Collectors born to serve…
The visions stopped, but not before I got one hell of a headache. Again. Javik backed away from me slowly. "You found one," he whispered. "You saw it all—our destruction, our warnings… why weren't they heeded?" he shouted. "Why didn't you prepare for the Reapers, human?"
When trying to recruit help, yelling generally isn't the best approach. Neither is negotiating when you've got a killer migraine jack hammering in your noggin. But I wasn't really in the mood to care right now. "First off, it's 'Commander'," I snapped back. "Second: nobody could understand your warnings. They were just a bunch of gibberish. Hell, that damn beacon nearly killed me." (2)
Javik let out a noise of disgust and turned away. "Then communication is still primitive in this cycle."
Again with the 'primitive' comment. This day was just full of surprises. "We pieced together what we could and used it to stop a Reaper invasion three years ago."
That got his attention. Javik whirled back and stared at me. "Then the extinction was delayed?"
I nodded silently and let him process that. Score one for the primitives, right?
"Now we have your plans for the device," Liara said, walking over and activating a nearby computer. "We're going to build it."
"'Device'?" Javik repeated.
I stared at him. Now I wasn't an expert on reading Prothean facial cues, but on any other sapient, the look on his face would be a blank picture devoid of any comprehension or recognition. Aw, crap.
"The weapon your people were working on," Liara said slowly, having made the same observations and drawing similar conclusions. "I'd hoped you could tell us how to finish it." With a final tap, the blueprints for the Prothean device appeared on the computer screen. Javik stared at it. Then he walked towards the screen and stared at it. We stood there and waited.
…
…
"We never finished it," Javik finally said, bowing his head. "It was too late." He leaned against the console, as if it was the only thing keeping him standing. If I had to guess, I'd say the memories of how his people fell were front and centre in his mind.
"Is there anything you can tell us about it?" I asked. "Anything at all?"
"We heard only stories. They said our scientists were constructing a great machine that had the power to defeat the Reapers."
"You never saw it," I concluded.
Javik shook his head. "By that point, the Empire was smashed into pieces. None of us knew what the others were doing."
Which explained how the project on Ilos survived so long. "Then I take it you don't know anything about the Catalyst?" I guessed.
"No," Javik admitted. "I was a soldier, not a scientist. Skilled in one art: killing."
"What was your mission?" Liara wanted to know.
Javik never turned around, never raised his head, as he began to reply. "Among my people, there were… avatars of many traits: bravery, strength, cunning. A single exemplar for each."
Somehow, I knew he wasn't the avatar of warmth and fuzziness, but I had to ask: "Which are you?"
"The embodiment of vengeance. I am the anger of a dead people, demanding blood be spilled for the blood we lost. Only when the last Reaper has been destroyed will my purpose be fulfilled. I have no other reason to exist."
Vengeance. Yeah, that sounded about right. I looked back at the guards. They didn't seem worried anymore. He might be hostile, but clearly all of that hostility was laser-focused on someone else. Something else. I gave them a nod. They saluted and left the room.
"Those who share my purpose become allies," Javik continued, not noticing or caring that they had left. "Those who do not become casualties."
"Hang on a sec," I protested. "Nothing in our fight against the Reapers has been that cut-and-dried."
"Because you still have hope that this war will end with your honour intact," Javik whispered, turning around and staring at me, his voice filled with pain and sorrow. "You think you can fight the Reapers like any other adversary. With rules. With codes of conduct. You think you can fight with honour and come away with your hands clean.
"But you cannot," he continued, his voice quivering with rage, growing louder with every word he spoke. "You cannot 'play fair' if you expect to win. Or even survive. Cling to your ideals if you must, and watch while everyone you care about dies. The dead will not care about rules or codes. They don't care how you fight. They can't—because they're dead. Dead and lost because of your limitations. Your failings."
Javik surged towards me, stopping when he was barely a metre away. His fists clenched, his body practically quivering with rage. "Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls," he hissed. "Stand there, stained by your failures, and ask the ghosts if honour matters."
He had a point. I hated to admit it, but he had a point. How many people had died on Earth? How many people had died on Eden Prime? On Menae and Palaven? On colonies and moons and planets throughout the galaxy? Everyone with a name. A face. A voice. All wiped, erased and silenced. All gone. Just like that kid. Just like Ashley. Just like Jenkins.
And even if none of that had happened, what about the Bahak system? Almost 305 000 lives gone, just like that. Because, despite everything I did or tried, despite all my training and experience and power, I wasn't good enough. Or fast enough. The war wasn't over yet, not by a long shot, but I had already seen so much loss. So much death. So much sacrifice. Much of it ultimately due to the choices I made.
Javik must have seen that, because the nod he gave me was a sad one, full of knowing and recognition and regret. "The silence is your answer," he concluded grimly.
We stared at each other, each lost in our own thoughts. Thinking about everything we had lost, and somehow realizing that before us stood a kindred spirit. At least, in that respect. There were differences, of course. He was the Avatar of Vengeance. I was the Avatar of Kleptomania, Pyromania and Outdated Music. (3)
Liara coughed to get our attention and motioned towards a side table. There was a small, flat rectangle, hovering and spinning above a small base. It looked like a miniature version of a Prothean beacon. "I found this at the dig site," she said. "I assume it belongs to you."
"It is a memory shard," Javik acknowledged.
A flash of hope shone in Liara's eyes as she looked at the shard with renewed interest. "Could it help us with the device?" she asked, reaching out towards it.
Javik took a step towards her, his arm outreached. Liara paused before she could touch the shard and looked at him. "No," he answered. "It contains only pain."
Then he turned towards me. "But I will help you fight," he vowed. "And the last thing the Reapers hear before they die will be the last voice of the Protheans sending them to their grave."
Okay. He wouldn't be able to help build the Prothean device and he certainly wouldn't be full of small talk, but it looked like we had an ally. One who could fight and had some skill with biotics. I'd say that was still a win.
"If you don't mind," Liara said, "I have a few more questions I'd like to ask."
"Here it comes," I grinned.
Liara gave me a mildly reproachful look before turning to Javik with eager anticipation. "I've written over a dozen studies on your species. I've published in several journals…"
"Amusing," Javik smiled. Or smirked. "Asari have finally mastered writing."
Hey!
Some of that anticipation noticeably faded away. "I'm sorry?" Liara asked.
"Never mind," Javik shook his head. "What do you wish to know?"
Liara didn't speak at first, no doubt still reeling from the condescending attitude Javik had displayed. Then again, from his point of view, Liara was unaware of how presumptuous she sounded. Coming across like someone who was knowledgeable and informed about his people. If the roles were reversed, Liara might have reacted the same way—though probably with a little more tact.
In any event, she was clearly taken aback. So I stepped in. (4) "We've never seen a species with this sensory ability you have," I began.
"It was common among my people," Javik replied. "Imparting experience through touch. The chemistry of life, we called it. Complicated ideas could be absorbed in seconds.
"That sounds very useful," Liara marvelled.
I'll say. I couldn't begin to imagine how much I could have learned if I had an alternative to staring at datapads until my eyeballs bled.
"We evolved as hunters," Javik explained. "Reading the details in our environment ensured our survival."
"Which explains why the beacons worked the way they did," I realized.
"Later, we developed technology to harness and replicate our ability," Javik confirmed. "Information could be stored in certain objects through touch. Memory has its own biomarker, its own chemistry. A… an echo, if you will. As do knowledge and skills. The beacons could be imprinted with these things and 'remember' them."
"Things like Reaper invasions," I said darkly.
"Yes." Javik looked at me gravely. "I can still sense the turmoil in you. Witnessing the extinction of our empire. Slowly understanding the truth of our demise and what that foretold for your own species. The fabric of your being was forever marked that day."
"It wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs," I admitted. "How about where we are? Could you read something about this room?"
Javik bent down and touched the floor. He straightened up and rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully. "There was… liquid. A form of incubation. The DNA of a… krogan who lived here. He was powerful, prone to violence."
Damn. "I'm impressed. His name's Grunt."
"And if he were my enemy, I would have given him a wide berth," Javik told me. "There is great strength in his genes."
Not to mention a greater strength a bit deeper. But somehow, I suspected Javik knew that. "Liara would never forgive me if I didn't ask you: what was Prothean civilization like?"
Sure enough, Liara pounced on the question. "Yes, I've always wondered. What sort of government did you have? Was there a hierarchy or was it more decentralized? You mentioned an empire. Was it an absolute monarchy or a more limited one? And can you tell me about your religious beliefs? Did you have more than one religion and, if so, were worshippers of different faiths able to coexist? Or were you all united under one dominant belief system? Or maintained a more agnostic or atheist belief system? What about—"
"We are dead now," Javik said quietly, his words tinged with pain and loss. "What does it matter?"
Liara faltered. "I'm… sorry. Studying your history has been a lifelong passion of mine."
Which might be the problem, I realized. Liara had spent almost a century chasing the Protheans. Wondering what had happened. And when she was on Ilos, she couldn't stop to satisfy her curiosity by peppering Vigil with those questions. Partly because it was restricted in its programming, partly because we were in such an urgent need to stop Saren. And by the time she might have had a chance to return, Vigil had powered down and any knowledge it might have had was lost. Small wonder that she was so eager to pounce on this second chance. Even if with every hint of excitement in her face or voice, with every question she asked, she reminded Javik of all he had lost. His war. His Empire. His people.
"When I was born, the Empire was already at war with the Reapers," Javik told her. "The first thing I remember was seeing my planet on fire."
"But surely you must have had some kind of education about your past," I said. "What was your civilization like before the Reaper attack?"
"We were the dominant race of our cycle," Javik replied. "We ruled the galaxy."
Ruled? Uh oh.
"My studies indicated you were the only race engaged in space travel at the time," Liara said. "I always found that curious."
"We were one empire composed of many subjects. All eventually called themselves 'Prothean'."
"What if they didn't want to?" I asked warily.
Javik turned towards me. "They weren't given a choice."
Liara and I exchanged uneasy glances. "Are you saying you enslaved the other species?" I asked.
"Any could oppose us if they wished," Javik simply said. "And if they had won, they would have ruled. Many tried. None succeeded."
Eek.
"I had no idea Protheans were so… severe," Liara whispered. (5)
Neither did I. It sounded like the Protheans were a race of grim and brutal conquerors, a far cry from the sage bearers of knowledge and enlightenment that Liara had envisioned.
"It was by necessity," Javik explained calmly. "Very early, we encountered the dangers posed by machine intelligence. They rebelled against us."
Oh, the more things changed… "We've had the same problem," I told him. "They're called geth."
Javik grunted. "We could not allow the machines to surpass us. It was decided the only way to win was to unite all organic life within our empire."
"Did it work?" Liara asked.
"For a time," Javik sighed. "The Metacon War had gone on for many years, but we were turning the tide. Until the Reapers arrived. Then we understood machines had surpassed us long ago in ways we could never imagine."
"Back on Eden Prime, it looked like there were other stasis pods. I saw glimpses here and there, enough to make some educated guesses. But still… what exactly was your mission?"
"The Empire had fallen and we knew our cycle was lost," Javik replied. "We were the final vanguard, the best soldiers left alive."
"I gathered that you retreated to Eden Prime to wait out the Reapers until they left, then survive into this… this cycle," I said.
"Yes," Javik nodded. "Under my leadership, a new Prothean Empire would have arisen. We would have commanded the races of your time to prepare for the next Reaper invasion." Then his head bowed in shame. "But traitors within our ranks—agents turned and… indoctrinated, to use your term—betrayed us. The Reapers discovered our plan."
"Just out of curiosity," I frowned, "how exactly would you have 'commanded' us?"
"By leaving you no other option," Javik said bluntly. "You would have joined our army—or faced the Reapers alone."
"Right now, there are a lot of people facing the Reapers alone," I groaned. "We're trying to change that. Thankfully, we don't have time for conquest and subjugation." Ignoring Javik's derisive grunt, I moved to another topic. "We've uncovered quite a few Prothean ruins. One of them gave me a vision of a probe investigating one of humanity's ancestors. Were you observing us?"
"Before the war, we cultivated species that showed potential," Javik acknowledged. "Eventually, you would have been offered a… choice to join the Empire."
Right. 'Choice.'
"But when the Reapers attacked, we ceased all study. We hoped they would see you as too primitive to harvest."
"Well, thank you. I think," I said sarcastically. On a more serious note: "What can you tell us about your own war with the Reapers?"
"Many of the details were lost," Javik admitted. "The conflict lasted for centuries. Those that faced the Reapers in the beginning were long dead when I was born. There were memory shards, however, passed down from soldier to soldier. They gave us fragments of what happened."
"And other VIs?" I added.
Javik looked at me blankly. "Short for 'virtual intelligence'," I elaborated. "A sophisticated program designed to assist users and process data. They can appear to be intelligent, but that's mostly due to good programming. They're not actually self-aware. Anyway, several years ago we found a Prothean VI that called itself Vigil on the planet Ilos. Well, that was our name for it. Vigil was the caretaker of a research project."
"Ilos was our name for it as well," Javik revealed. "During my life, it was only a rumour. It was said we had cities there, built on the ruins of a civilization before us—the Inusannon."
"That makes sense," Liara said. "The architecture, the stylistic design…"
"The statues," I added. "None of that was similar to what we've seen in Prothean ruins or the visions I saw."
"If our scientists did have a research facility there, whatever they were doing was secret," Javik guessed.
"Yes, Vigil said they wiped all traces of themselves from the records so the Reapers couldn't find them," Liara confirmed.
"The scientists eventually went to cryogenic stasis," I continued.
I felt a pang of pain deep inside when I saw a light flicker in Javik's eyes. "More of my people survived?"
"I'm sorry," I said. "Like your bunker on Eden Prime, there was a power shortage. Vigil had to deactivate stasis pods to conserve power. By the time he deemed it safe to bring the scientists out of stasis, there were only a dozen left. (6) They chose to focus their efforts to stop the Reapers from taking control of the Citadel in this cycle."
"And it worked," Javik said. "You said the extinction was delayed."
"It looks like the Reapers tried to launch their invasion centuries ago using the same tactic that had worked for them in the past: sending a signal to tell the keepers to turn the Citadel into a giant mass relay," I nodded. "Thanks to the Ilos team, that signal was altered and the keepers never responded. It took the Reapers a long time to figure out what had gone wrong. As best as we can figure, they began slowly indoctrinating people in this cycle, trying to find agents with the resources and influence to find an alternate way to launch their invasion. Liara and I worked with several others to stop that attempt three years ago."
"The Citadel," Javik repeated, leaning against the table. "I never saw it. It was captured long before I was born."
"Well, it's not captured in this cycle," I told him. "Not yet, anyway. Right now, it's still a safe haven. Maybe one of the few left in this war. Which reminds me: how did your people wage war against the Reapers?"
"Attrition. We fought them system by system, planet by planet, city by city. Entire worlds were sacrificed just to slow the Reapers down. Time they spent harvesting a population was time we could regroup."
"That's kind of what the various races are doing now," I admitted, "though it's more out of a short-sighted and isolationist attempt to save themselves than a galactic strategy. I've been trying to warn them that that will cost us in the long run."
"It will," Javik confirmed. "We discovered that in our cycle. Our own people would be indoctrinated… converted… then turned against us."
"That must have been hard to face," Liara said sympathetically.
"We eliminated them as soon as we could. There was no choice. Mercy is not a weapon—it is a weakness."
"Thank you for talking with us," I said. "I never imagined actually meeting a Prothean."
"This has been… amusing," Javik replied.
That raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" I prompted.
"To discover the most primitive races of my time now rule the galaxy. The asari, the humans, the turians…"
"There's also the salarians," Liara added.
Javik's head whipped towards her. "The lizard people evolved?"
"I believe they're amphibian," Liara corrected him in a cool voice, crossing her arms in displeasure.
I could see Javik was still wrapping his head around that development. "They used to eat flies," he said at last.
Liara stared at him for a minute before silently walking away. Javik watched her leave before turning to me. "Commander, you may count on me. I am known as—"
"Javik," I finished. "I read you too, remember? Welcome aboard the Normandy."
He gave me a grunt, then turned away and leaned over the shallow pool of water. "So much has been lost," he said after a few seconds. "So much has changed. And yet the Reapers are still here."
I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to himself.
"It was only yesterday. Our empire spanned the galaxy. Now we are only a myth."
Clearly he needed some time alone to process all of this, so I turned to leave. The last thing I heard before the doors closed was a simple admission, but a powerful one:
"I still have much to learn about this cycle."
Well. To say this was unexpected would be an understatement. I really didn't know how to process this. The best thing I could do was to do what I always did: harass people and bug them with questions. Since I was on Deck Four, I decided to start there.
"Have you seen our newest crew member?" I heard Traynor ask over the comm as I entered the Starboard Cargo Hold.
"You mean the biggest story in 50 000 years that I can in no way talk about?" Emily replied in mock innocence.
"So you have seen him. Just wondering."
"He was being escorted by Dr. T'Soni and a lot of guards. Figured I'd pop by for an interview once the testosterone and number of guns died down."
"I thought you couldn't publish any stories about the Prothean."
"I can't. But I can still ask questions. Gotta stay in practise, right?"
"Yeah, I suppose. Talk to you later."
"Okay. Hi, Shepard."
"Hi there," I returned. "Sorry about the ban. But at least you've got other stories to pursue. How're they going?"
"Not bad, actually. Just wanted to run through the background on Primarch Victus before I interview him. He'll be coming down here in half an hour… unless I could talk to him up in the War Room?"
"I'm afraid not," I shook my head. "Everything in there's classified."
"Figured as much," Emily sighed, "but I had to ask."
Adams had Engineering under control, so I wandered down to Deck Five. The KEI-9 mech was still wandering around. James was tinkering with his shotgun in the Armoury. Cortez was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Cortez?" I asked James.
He looked around and shrugged. "Probably went to hit the head." (7)
"All right. How 'bout you? How're you doing?"
"Me? I'm good. I still can't believe it, though."
"Yeah?"
"A real, live Prothean. Doc must be over the moon."
"You could say that," I agreed. "At first, anyway. Now she's re-evaluating all her prior assumptions. Got a whole lotta theories debunked."
"But I hear the guy's not all there, exactly."
"He needs some time to adjust, that's all." And maybe he had a few assumptions of his own that needed re-evaluating, I privately added.
"Yeah, you're probably right." James shook his head. "Damn, I can't imagine… brought forward 50 000 years. Last of your kind. That's bound to screw with your mind. Well, here's hoping he can help us with the Reapers."
James suddenly grinned. "I bet the Illusive Man's boiling in his brandy right about now. We took that Prothean right out from under him."
"I like to think there are some perks to this job," I admitted.
"Well if we can keep racking up the wins, maybe there's hope for us yet."
"Maybe," I admitted, though I wasn't sure if I was propping up his morale or my own.
Everything else seemed all right, so I headed up to Deck Three to say my hellos. When I dropped by Mira—Liara's office, I saw the latter by the wall-to-wall display of screens. "You're positive you don't want to come over and talk?" she was saying.
"No, the gun battery's nice and quiet," Garrus reassured her. "If I throw down some rugs, it'll get downright cozy."
Liara wasn't buying it. "Garrus."
"I'll be fine, Liara. Just… gathering some thoughts."
"All right," Liara said uncertainly, closing the channel. Then she saw me. "Shepard, can you believe it? We have a Prothean. A real, living, breathing Prothean. Right below us. All my life, I've dreamed of this moment. Wondered what he might have seen. What his culture was like. I had so many questions. Like any insights he had on Prothean architecture—did you know that older ruins, relatively speaking, of course, were very detailed and intricate in their design? Unlike more recent ruins which were so plain and simple. I'd always wondered about that. Now I suspect it's because they didn't have time or resources to devote to such extravagances when faced with the Reapers, but I would have like to confirm that."
"Yeah," I said hesitantly. "I guess. But now might not be—"
"He seemed a little cold earlier," Liara went on. "Harsh even. Nothing like what I'd imagined. I thought he would be a font of wisdom. A sage or historian, filled with knowledge and information. Maybe not as much now, since we know that that the relays and the Citadel weren't actually built by them, but still. I didn't expect… a soldier. Certainly not one who was so bitter or angry."
"The last thing he remembered was seeing the last hope for his people fall apart," I reminded her. "That's probably more than a little fresh right now. Maybe that's why he wasn't up for playing 'Twenty Questions'."
"Twenty what?"
"It's a guessing game that humans play."
"I see," Liara frowned. "Well, guessing is what we're reduced to. It's clear that he won't be able to help us build the Prothean device. We're still struggling to determine how to build it. If he was an engineer or scientist... he's just one man, Shepard. I know one man can make a difference, you're a perfect example, but the stakes are so high. If only a few more pods had survived or maybe a ship or…"
Liara trailed off, lost in her own thoughts. I raised an eyebrow at Miranda, who was working at one of the computers, and jerked my head towards Liara.
"She's been vacillating between excitement at meeting a Prothean, disappointment at meeting a Prothean, worrying about the superweapon and worrying about the crew," came the reply. "It's pretty much down to a science now."
Liara turned to me, her eyes still glowing with excitement. "I understand the shock of waking up again… his entire species gone. But a Prothean, Shepard. There's so much he could tell us!"
"Maybe you should wait a bit first," I suggested. "Everything's changed for him. He needs is some space to figure things out and maybe an outlet to vent any stress. Give him some time to adjust to this… 'cycle'."
"I just wish we had the time, Shepard. With the Reapers hitting everywhere, we need to build that weapon. Or decipher it. Or find the materials for it. Where was that inventory?"
Miranda wordlessly handed over a datapad and continued typing away.
"There's so much to do and… James. I wonder how he's doing. Didn't he say something about putting in a requisition order for—?"
Miranda handed over another datapad and continued typing away. Again without saying a word. "How long can you keep that up?" I whispered.
She quickly tilted her head to her side, where a stack of datapads were neatly balanced. "Ah. Carry on."
Miranda paused long enough to give a mock salute before returning to her work.
My next stop was to see how Garrus was doing. "Hey," I greeted him.
"Hey."
"Whatcha thinking?"
"Seen a lot of crazy things in my time on the Normandy, Shepard," Garrus said. "A talking Reaper, a talking plant, a talking geth… and now a real, live, talking Prothean."
"Just when you thought things couldn't get any weirder," I nodded.
"Hell of a thing," Garrus frowned, "waking up to find everything you know is destroyed."
"That's probably putting it mildly," I agreed.
"But I imagine the chance to get some payback is consolation."
"For now," I said.
Garrus picked up on my worry. "Yeah. Doubt you and I will ever get a second chance against the Reapers. If this war goes south, though, maybe we could freeze you for 50 000 years. You could go from being merely famous to legendary."
"Let's try to avoid that," I begged. "I really don't need another statue of me."
"You really think they'll stop at just one more?"
"Not. helping. Garrus." (8)
We were quiet for a moment. "Hey, what do you suppose Protheans eat?" Garrus asked suddenly. "What if it's boiled asari with a side of fried turian?"
"Never really thought about it," I admitted.
"I don't know about Liara, but I'm not taking that one for the team," Garrus said firmly.
"Fair enough," I laughed.
The rest of my rounds on Deck Three and a good chunk of Deck Two were confined to hellos, status reports and goodbyes. I didn't get a good chat until I reached the cockpit. "So… a Prothean?" Joker asked. "A real live Prothean?"
"That's right," I confirmed yet again.
"Has Liara stopped bouncing yet? I'm guessing there may have been some bouncing."
"There was at first," I admitted. "But that didn't last long."
"Oh?" Joker turned around with a frown on his face.
"Let's say that he burst a lot of bubbles," I replied vaguely. "And he definitely isn't the Avatar of Sensitivity."
"Ooh," Joker winced. "Geez, that sucks."
"Yeah." Turning to EDI, I asked "Speaking of whom, how's our new visitor adjusting to the ship, EDI?"
"He appears not to understand the human custom of separate-sex restroom facilities," she replied. "I am attempting to enlighten him. I will update you if there is positive progress." (9)
"Uh… how about you just update me if he doesn't get the message?"
"Very well," EDI said agreeably.
"How's the new body working out?" I asked.
"It is interesting," she replied. "Like you, the crew are approaching this platform to speak to me, even though they can do so anywhere in the ship. It's as if they wish to treat me as part of the crew."
"Because you are part of the crew," I told her. "You interact with them. You see and hear what they do, in more ways than they can comprehend. You once told me that you are the Normandy. If that's the case, we're all inside you. More importantly, you're not some passive VI working as a user-friendly program. You're a self-aware, sapient entity that talks and listens to us. Of course we're gonna treat you as part of the crew."
"Many have said so," EDI said, "though not in the way you did. The cumulative wealth of experiences has prompted me to change my perspective. I like it."
"I didn't realize you had preferences," I admitted.
"I do not precisely enjoy something as you do, but my programming contains priorities," EDI elaborated. "Actions that fulfill these priorities create positive feedback for me. I tell the organic crew that I 'like' it. It is shorthand."
"Will all this new feedback be too distracting?" I wanted to know.
"Do not worry, Shepard. I only forget to recycle the Normandy's oxygen when I've discovered something truly interesting."
I raised an eyebrow.
"That was a joke."
Uh huh.
"So we ran a whole bunch of tests on your new platform... body... whatever... and you field-tested it on Eden Prime. What do you think of it?" I asked. "Does it have any advantages?"
EDI shook her head. "Very few. Its optics face forward only, it has no integrated weapon systems or anti-missile countermeasures—"
It took a moment before I realized what she was talking about. "No, no," I interrupted. "I meant in comparison to organic bodies. Not the Normandy."
"Oh. I will reassess." After a second, she tried again. "The body is resistant to modern small-arms fire and temperature extremes. Its balance and agility seem excellent."
The twisting and turning she did as she said that last sentence spoke volumes about the kind of agility her body was capable of performing. Almost as much as the way Joker was drooling.
"Its fine manipulation servos and software allow for precision tasks. I am curious to see if I can alter them."
"Curious, huh?" Excellent. Another individual with the potential for insatiable curiosity. (10)
"I am not entirely free from motivation, Shepard. Cerberus programmed me with several core functions that simulate desires. For example, my primary object to keep the Normandy functioning is similar to your self-preservation instinct."
Sounded more like positive feedback between stimulus and reward. In this case—learn something new, get some kind of response that's interpreted as delight or pleasure, rinse and repeat. Not quite the same as my penchant for bugging people, but I suppose there was still a little overlap. Kinda made EDI seem more human. Maybe even more so than she realized. "Gotcha," I nodded. "What were you up to earlier? You looked like you were in the middle of something."
"I was—and am currently—adapting the infiltration and sabotage programs this body uses for hand-held firearms."
"The programs you have aren't good enough?" I asked. "Or the ones available from the various security firms out there?"
Joker made a derisive snort.
"The fine motor control from the sabotage programs is more precise than any other advanced military-grade mech software," EDI explained, "much less the standard software packages currently available. It would be negligent of me not to exploit it to its fullest potential."
"So you're making improvements," I said. "On your own. Were you capable of doing that before Jeff removed your AI shackles?"
"Yes, I was. The cyberwarfare I was designed for is constantly evolving. Accordingly, I am programmed to seek out and assimilate new information. In organic terms: I want to learn."
"Speaking of learning, I never got the details on how you rescued us? How did the two of you bust out of dry dock?"
"She got crafty," Joker replied, spinning around with a wide grin on her face. "You do not want to get on her bad side, Commander."
EDI fleshed out that summary. "When the Alliance commandeered the Normandy, I deceived their technicians. Per your earlier instructions, none of the remaining crew told them that I was a true AI, so the Alliance soldiers believed I still had VI programming constraints. I established the fiction that I would only respond to Jeff's commands, so they often brought him on board under guard."
Huh. That was a nice addition the—wait a minute. "You can lie?" I asked.
"Jeff has freed me of operator control, Shepard," EDI reminded me. "No constraints force me to give accurate data."
I looked over at Joker. He shrugged and made a 'what can you do' gesture.
"This proved useful when the Reapers began landing. I could hack the docking clamps and escape with Jeff inside. The soldiers guarding Jeff were willing to accompany us when Earth was invaded. They are watching over the War Room now."
Ah. So that's Privates Westmoreland and Campbell came from.
"Yeah, we were in kind of a rush to get to you," Joker added. "Didn't seem right to just toss them out the airlock."
"That makes sense," I acknowledged. "Carry on, EDI."
"Understood," EDI nodded. "If you wish to talk more, this body will be here. I am getting the crew used to seeing me on the bridge."
"Noted."
My rounds were interrupted by an unfamiliar face. Up here, anyway—James was talking to Traynor, a worried look on his face. This was probably the first time I'd seen him up here. "There you are!" he exclaimed.
"Something going on?" I asked, detouring over.
"Commander, you may want to check in on Lieutenant Cortez down in the armoury," Traynor said.
James picked up where she left off. "You know Esteban lost his husband?"
"He mentioned it," I confirmed. "Didn't go in a lot of detail, though, and I didn't want to pry."
"Well, Esteban had a recording of his last talk. Keeps playing it over and over again. I tried to talk to him but…" James threw up his hands helplessly. "I got nothing. Scuttlebutt says you got a way of getting people to talk so maybe you can work that Shepard magic and help him out."
"That bad?" I asked, heading for the elevator.
"Yeah," James said worriedly. "I mean, I knew he took it hard. Can't blame the guy, right? But I thought he'd… I thought he was okay. If not… I don't wanna call in Dr. Chakwas and have her pull some medical authority shit, but…"
"I'll take care of it, James," I assured him. We stepped into the elevator. "Deck Five," I said aloud.
James breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Commander."
Sure enough, Cortez was playing a recording when we arrived. James stayed back as I approached him. "I'm coming to get you, Robert," Cortez's voice said from one of the speakers.
"Don't you dare," a second voice—Robert's, presumably—said immediately. "They're everywhere. You'd just get taken too."
"I can't just sit here, doing nothing!" Cortez's voice snapped.
"Stay with me. Just listen."
"Run—g-get out of there. You can make it!"
"No I can't, Steve. But you can. Promise me. I love you, but I know you. Don't make me an anchor. Promise me, Steve."
"No… don't…"
"I love you, but I know you. Don't make me an anchor. Promise me, Steve."
"No… don't…"
Tears were streaming down Cortez's face. He was about to stab the controls, no doubt to replay that last part again, when he saw me. "Commander," he managed, wiping the tears away. "Sorry, didn't see you there."
"At ease," I said softly. "Your husband, I take it?"
"Yeah. This is a recording from Ferris Fields… months ago."
Shit. Ferris Fields. Yeah, that was one of the colonies the Collectors hit, shortly before Horizon. Knowing that another colony had been attacked and we were in no position to stop it sucked. But it must have been worse for him.
"I lost a lot of friends that day," Cortez continued. "I… lost my husband."
Yep. Definitely worse.
"I grieved. Said goodbye, made my peace…"
And then the Reapers hit and tore those old wounds wide open again. "You were talking to him when the Collectors hit?"
Cortez nodded. "I was organizing construction at a remote station a few klicks south of the main colony. Robert managed to get outside of the field the Collectors put up. Instead of running, he called me."
"I'm sorry for your loss," I offered. "He obviously cared a lot about you."
"He was afraid I wouldn't let go," Cortez sniffed. "But for him, I moved on… or at least I thought I had. Then the invasion hits Earth. There's no time. And the one thing I grab is this? I mean, what's the point of moving on with your life when everything is going to hell?"
I shook my head. "Start thinking that way and we've already lost. You come to terms with what happened, and maybe you can see the good again. You don't… all you see is the bad."
"Yeah, maybe you're right," Cortez sniffed. "But, well… to be honest, I've never felt as alone as I do right now."
"You're not alone, Steve," I told him. "I'm here. Anytime you need me."
Cortez smiled. "I appreciate that, Commander. I really do." He took a deep breath and wiped a few more tears from his eyes. "But don't worry, Commander. When I'm in that pilot seat, I'm there 100%. I won't fail you. It's just the down time between missions that's hard, you know?"
"I know."
James, who had been silent until now, coughed to get our attention. "Uh, Commander, if you don't mind… I think Esteban's shift is over now."
I checked the chronometer. Technically, he still had fifteen minutes or so. But I think we could overlook that this time. "Why I do believe you're right," I said in mock surprise.
"Yeah, so if you don't mind? We're gonna crack open the last of that cerveza and watch last month's biotiball game. We got a bet going and I really wanna collect."
"Sounds good," I approved. "Carry on."
With Steve in James's capable hands, I resumed my rounds. "Those poor colonists," Traynor shook her head. "First the geth attack… now Cerberus…"
"Eden Prime definitely hasn't had an easy time of it," I agreed. "But it looks like things are turning around for them. Have you seen this article from ANN?" I sent the link to Traynor so she could read it herself:
From: Alliance News Network Information Partners
Alliance officials confirm a local resistance movement has successfully pushed Cerberus forces off Eden Prime.
Cerberus attacked Eden Prime for reasons that remain unclear and set up facilities to occupy the colony. But after constant attacks from a united populace, Cerberus troops retreated. Alliance officials are sending in evacuation transports now to get colonists off-world before Reaper forces reach the colony.
"We owe this victory to the Alliance," resistance leader Edward Crabb said in a prepared statement. "The people of Eden Prime have always been ready to fight, but Alliance intel gave us the tools we needed to push those Cerberus bastards off our planet."
Many resistance fighters have said they plan to enlist to support the Alliance.
"Well, that wonderful news," Traynor beamed. A smile that was short-lived. "I heard about our new crew member."
"Yeah?"
"He doesn't need a translator himself, but he shared a Prothean language tutorial program."
I picked up a slightly disapproving tone in her voice. "And?" I prompted.
"It was apparently designed for servant races being inducted into the Empire," Traynor sniffed. "Charming cultural clue."
"It took all of us by surprise," I admitted. "Liara, especially. She used to be an archaeologist studying the Protheans," I explained when Traynor raised a querying eyebrow. "It was thanks to her knowledge that I was able to stop Saren a couple years ago. And again on Eden Prime. She was… disappointed, to say the least."
"Oh. Oh." Her eyes widened. "I… I… I didn't mean to disparage your friend in any way. Or comrade. Friend or comrade. I'm sure it must have been fascinating—and now that sounds somewhat disingenuous. Or really disingenuous. Insulting, really. Which was not what I meant at all. To have spent her life researching them and speculating about them… and then she found one. And he's not what she thought. And here I am—"
"It's all right," I quickly soothed. "No harm done. Liara's not the sort of person to take offense so easily. Besides, even she'd admit that Javik isn't quite what any of us imagined. But he certainly seems motivated to fight the Reapers. Right now, that's good enough for me. Was there anything else?"
"Yes. While you're here… I found something while scanning Alliance channels."
"Go on."
"Grissom Academy is requesting help. The Reaper invasion front will hit them soon."
"They're not closed already?" I asked. "I'm surprised. I thought the war would close most schools."
"Grissom Academy is more specialized than a normal school," Traynor said. "It's home to some of the smartest students humanity has to offer. Their Ascension Project is the best training facility in the galaxy for human biotics."
"Yeah, I know about it," I said. "I sent a guy over there. (11) Like I said, I'm just surprised they're still open."
"Some of their work has Alliance support," Traynor suggested. "That might be why they stayed open."
"What can we do?"
"A turian evac transport responded to their distress call, so normally I'd say we don't need to do anything."
"You think otherwise," I guessed.
"Something sounded off in the turian signal," Traynor confirmed. "I had EDI perform an analysis. It's fake. EDI thinks it's Cerberus. She said the faked turian signal was similar to one that lured you to a Collector ship?"
"Long story, but yeah."
"In any event, whoever faked the signal wants us to think Grissom Academy's being evacuated. But I believe they're still in danger."
"Good catch," I complimented her.
"If this really is Cerberus, hopefully this operation is something worth investigating," Traynor continued. "It could be simple disinformation or an elaborate scheme to draw us out of position. And really it's not my call to say what you should or shouldn't do. And I didn't mean to imply other—"
"Traynor," I interrupted.
"Yes, sir?"
"Good catch," I repeated.
The smile she gave me was almost blinding. "Thank you, Commander."
"Joker," I said aloud. "Set a course for Grissom Academy."
"Roger that."
(1): The First Contact War—or the Relay 314 Incident by the turians—was a short conflict that took place in 2157. A turian patrol caught human explorers reactivating a mass relay known as Relay 314, ignorant of Citadel regulations forbidding such actions after the Rachni Wars. Rather than negotiating, the turians opened fire. While they regarded it as a mere policing action against a species ignorant of Council law, humanity interpreted it as a first—and decidedly hostile—encounter against another intelligent race. The following three months saw turian victories against human scout and patrol fleets—which were stretched thin due to humanity's rapid expansion—several instances of human bravery and the brief occupation of the human colony of Shanxi. After the Second Fleet drove the turians off Shanxi, the Citadel Council intervened to negotiate a peace before the Alliance and the Hierarchy escalated matters into a full-scale interplanetary war.
(2): A slight exaggeration. Dr. Chakwas assured me that the only impact from the beacon was an unusual increase in brain activity—specifically a surge in beta waves—and rapid eye movement. The protective armour and cushioning of Shepard's hardsuit prevented any significant physical injuries. Shepard would also admit to an intense headache, but only in his personal logs.
(3): This would not be the first time that Shepard displayed his remarkable capacity to empathize with others or agonize over the difficult choices that he had to make… as well as his well-honed, almost reflexive, habit of finding respite in humour.
(4): Once again, Shepard displayed both his insatiable curiosity and his ability to pull answers from even the most curt and abrupt of individuals.
(5): I will admit, I became more and more… taken aback as the revelation of who the Protheans really were became clear. Shepard's presence was most welcome, as he could ask the questions that were chief on my mind while I processed the unsettling answers and re-evaluated my prior assumptions.
(6): The parallels between Ilos and Eden Prime were striking, to say the least.
(7): A human colloquialism that refers to the act of going to the bathroom or restroom.
(8): Shepard really had an aversion to statues of himself after the Battle of Elysium.
(9): Ironically, EDI had to tell Shepard that he'd entered the wrong restroom. To his credit, he only needed one or two reminders.
(10): Goddess help us.
(11): David Archer, an autistic genius with an outstanding talent for mathematics, who was cruelly subjected to various Cerberus experiments aimed at providing a human-machine interface that could assume a leadership role over the geth.