Subject to rewriting.

Unknown System, Cronos Station, Control Room

10.12.2183 1118 EST

Stargazing.

A hobby of mine… lost to a working schedule. I never saw a star, dying star, up close. It is definitely a breathtaking sight. You can't compare seeing it through the QEC – where it resembles a computer background, with the real thing, it's just not possible. Really, the sight was… breath-taking, words couldn't describe what I felt. The star was enormous, red a blue intertwined like two seas it's corona expanded thousands of kilometres into space. There were no planets around the star the once giver of life ending it instead, I saw it sending out a few solar flares into the void of space, the last defiant breaths of an old god. A sad end to an era.

It might take a few more centuries before the star dies though, or collapses into a white dwarf, so at least the view can be admired right now.

As a muffled conversation behind me was coming to an end, I could hear my name being said.

"… Reid, were you listening?" Said someone behind me.

I turned around from the star, to see Lawson and the Illusive Man looking at me. They were presumably talking about the Reapers or Collectors. Reapers were giant alien spaceships, with AI's controlling them. They come back every 50 000 years to wipe the galaxy of all technologically advanced life. The very life they helped to uplift. I used to not believe in them, thinking the geth were behind the massive dreadnaught sighted by Shepard. Turns out I was wrong… The Collectors were an urban legend in the Terminus used to scare little children, well not anymore. Their ships have been sighted near human colonies. It's said they are an insectoid species, possessing advanced technology and like 'collecting' people with rare mutations.

It is believed that the Reapers are allied somehow with the Collectors, as the timing of the colony attacks is very suspicious.

According to intel mixed with a bit of speculation, a Collector ship attacked Shepard. They even successfully killed him, that was no small feat. Shepard was as tough as they come, he's also someone I underestimated, believing him to take the fame just for clout. Apparently, he's a better soldier than I ever could be… Now he lies in some lab being rebuilt by Cerberus I naturally, opposed this action.

Shepard won't trust Cerberus – won't trust the Illusive Man and most certainly won't trust a traitor – such as myself. The Illusive Man shut me down, this was not a topic of discussion for him, he's made up his mind and I can't stop him. Time will tell if it was a mistake or not, since Shepard is far too loyal with our enemies.

"I believe we were talking about the Collectors… before the intrusion." Leng looked me in the eyes and slightly sneered at me. The man was a nuisance the moment I saw him. Rasa just had a blank stare going for her.

The Illusive Man extinguished his cigarette and placed down his whisky. "Yes, I do must apologize, plans are moving faster than anticipated." He crossed his legs. "Leng, Rasa you have your orders, leave."

Leng stomped away, Rasa followed suit.

Lawson brought up a galaxy map with the latest Collector attacks on human colonies. There were too many to count.

"We have 3 new reports of attacks on human colonies, all of them were asteroid mining settlements located around the Omega Nebula, no survivors." Lawson stated. "The frequency of attacks has slowed down, but only marginally." Illusive Man added. Lawson nodded and brought up three images of what looked like the same ship from different angles. All of them were badly pixelated. "Our suspicion about there being more than one ship was confirmed 12 hours ago."

"Are the images from trusted sources?" I asked.

Lawson frowned at me, she never liked being second-guessed. "My agents took them, the quality is a by-product of inferior technology. Any modern recording equipment gets scrambled, resulting in a grainy image – barely recognizable."

She brought up a list of colonies that could be attacked next. "Collectors prioritize smaller colonies, without any significant protection. They haven't been in the Attican Traverse yet, but that could change soon." The Collectors were a headache for sure, the geth could be combated fairly easily. Excluding… my little incident.

But dreadnaught sized ships, even in a small number is something I can't hope to fight. The only dreadnaughts Cerberus fields and that I'm aware of is the Styx. It protects Minuteman Station, never leaving its side. Then again I have to do something.

"Hmmm, without any heavy ship support combat is out of the question, I could probably use…"

"No." The Illusive Man said, holding his hand up.

Before I could ask why, he continued. "We will not interfere with the Collectors directly, I don't want Cerberus assets wasted on pointless battles. You are to limit interaction with the Collectors to information gathering, Shepard is our top priority." He lit himself a new smoke. "Reid, you've learned your lesson. Recklessly charging into the geth didn't end well for you." I almost died because of carelessness, so I won't be repeating that again.

Moreover, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Cerberus, for all its supposed might, still couldn't oppose anyone – directly that is.

The only way to fight enemies right now is through proxies, sabotage, assassination… Collectors were immune to all of these and more, they were an irregular enemy – unpredictable. I could think of only one way on how to combat them, at best it would slow them down, at worst, I lose some money.

"What about arming colonist with weapons? Mercs could be hired to train them, foreign merc companies could be manipulated into setting up a presence in the Terminus."

"If it comes from your personal funds, so be it. But do not divert important resources from your cell. Now let's move on." And with that, the subject was now closed.

I was definitely not a billionaire, money was never on my highest priorities. Sure, I could appreciate a bigger paycheck, when it comes from your own business that you've helped build and it feels rewarding.

As the owner of two companies. I get about 5 884 000£ a year, translating into 5 736 000 credits. Together that is 0.83% of all the money Aphelion and Northstar makes in a year. The rest goes into Cerberus and the companies themselves. Compared to a world where there are around 100 trillionaires, the money I have is chump change.

My bank account should have enough for my plans. I needed to check when I come back to Themis.

"Miranda, remind me. How long until the Lazarus project is finished?"

Lawson turned around to face us. "My team estimates another year of reconstruction efforts, then it should be a question of days before Shepard awakes."

"Good – Reid, I have something for you." The Illusive Man said, bringing up schematics of the Normandy. Only they didn't look like the original.

"Shepard will need a ship, this is the SR-2. An Improved version of the Normandy. Our engineers have finished the schematics recently. I was going to have Cord-Hislop make construction in one of their unregistered shipyards. But I know that yours is better hidden and equipped with state of the art technology." He then handed me an OSD. "Everything you need is on this disk."

He then turned to Lawson. "Miranda, escort Reid to Minuteman Station and get back to Lazarus, we must move fast if we are to stop the Reapers. You may leave."

Lawson wasted no time heading straight for the exit – in her arrogant stride. "Come on Reid, let's move."

Unknown System, Unknown Planet, Minuteman Station, Shuttle Bay

10.12.2183 1734 EST

"So he wouldn't authorize the control chip?"

"No… he said he wanted Shepard the way he was before dying." Lawson was distraught by this. Shepard could lash out – go on a killing spree if all goes wrong. That would set back our plans a couple of months and give the Reapers an unfair advantage.

Allegedly, Shepard has some sort of Cipher that helps with Prothean technology, he is also the one who stopped the Reapers invading via the Citadel. His accomplishments are impressive no doubt about that. Even so… one man against an army is a longshot.

I let out a small scoff. "He berates me for being reckless, then risks everything on Shepard's goodwill." It still rattled my mind as to why this decision was made.

"The Illusive Man knows what he's doing. He just never chooses the obvious way." The shuttle landed with a thump, the whine of thrusters stopped.

"Overcomplicating a task is counterproductive."

The shuttles door clicked and opened into the near empty hangar.

"He's not overcomplicating anything, we just don't know what his end goals are. He might be using Shepard to somehow fool the Alliance." We stepped out of the shuttle. There one more shuttle on the opposite side of the hangar. "In any case speculating is pointless, you have your own part to play."

A woman stepped out from the other shuttle. It was Ester.

"I'll contact you a few days before Shepard wakes, then you'll take the Normandy to Minuteman Station for final testing."

"Very well. Goodbye Lawson." We then shook hands and went our separate ways.

Eagle Nebula, Imir System, Relay, Shuttle

11.12.2183 0134 EST

The conversation with Ester was enlightening. I already knew what happened to the leadership of my cell, my body, the asari and the Highlander.

Ester took over with Mason, they both ran the cell with adequate efficiency. The only problem that arose was not their fault. N8 agents ransacked three bases. One listening post, a fuel depot and a safe house. All security protocols worked as intended and the bases self-destructed.

It is not known if any information was stolen, AIA has not initiated another attack since last month. Meaning an N8 operation could be on the way. Those one-man armies were a pain in the ass since day one, Alders little pet project has gone on for too long, Miller better have a plan to take care of them.

The Highlander suffered critical damage. It needed to a complete redesign due to bad structural integrity due to a surprising discovery. Engineering teams found a Prothean artefact embedded within the ship's hull. A 'secret' room or a container, made out of an unidentified metal, which was impervious to all opening methods. It didn't show up on any kind of scanners because of the metals strange nature. There was no entrance, no markings, just a dark green metal box with engravings written all over it. Engineers were perplexed at the nature of this strange container, the box now marked Obj. 13 was sent to Gellix for the scientist to study. The Illusive Man has, worryingly, proven great interest in it, sending his personal agents to oversee its study.

I was also interested, for different reasons. For it to hide in my ship for so long was strange. The Alliance blueprints never included any kind of Prothean technology. Citadel data archives didn't prove useful and high-level Alliance collaborators failed to find anything of mention. It's like the thing didn't exist, indicating that it was an unauthorized black op. Likely Alder and his merry band of conspirators.

The more worrying outlook was when I realized that the geth somehow tracked us. On the other hand, it could've been the asari – can't tell. They somehow hunted us down and boarded us, without anyone noticing until it was too late. A geth dropship was responsible for the misery I had to go through, the ship boasted impressive stealth capabilities until it the Highlander blasted it with its main cannon.

Unfortunately, our asari managed to escape, stealing a shuttle. It was trackable, the trail led to an uncharted planet. That was when the tracker went offline. The frigate tasked with tracking the shuttle down disappeared, never to be found, vanishing along with the asari.

I concluded that the asari likely worked with Saren, maybe it was his lackey, maybe it was his ally. Either way, she hasn't appeared since the boarding and took down a frigate. Meaning we were not in the clear yet. There was no confirmation on her death and until it comes through, I'll have people looking for her.

My health was another story.

A neurotoxin had gotten hold of me, as well as a couple of others. That fateful day managed to kill half of my crew. Mostly by the toxin, or straight up execution by geth firing squads. Alex, Fraser and Copperfield were among the dead. A shame, but they can be replaced.

The woman's body dissolved into goo, all genetic data was lost. Those that were already dead had their bodies also dissolve, adding further mystery to an already confusing event.

The toxin was of unknown make, artificially constructed for humans. To say that was worrying is an understatement.

Since biology is out of my league, I didn't remember the details, but it essentially attacked the nervous system and a whole lot of other brain regions. The consequences of the toxin were coma, psychosis, organ failure, etc… The reason for my survival was simple and gruesome. Those that were affected by it and hadn't died yet, were sacrificed for testing cures so I could live. One might develop survivor's guilt, but I could see why the decision was made.

I couldn't influence the final verdict – if worse came to be, I would probably agree with such procedures, not that I had a choice. I've become near irreplaceable to the right people, that meant certain privileges whether I like or not.

Eventually, when the worse passed, they left me to wake from my coma and promptly recover. I still wasn't 100% combat ready, so I couldn't go on missions.

What nobody told me though, were the numerous 'upgrades' gifted to me.

Minos Wasteland, Arrae System, Gellix, Prime Point

19.12.2183 0621 EST

"And Tedric?"

"Oh, you know him. 'Yes.', 'No.'" Ester said in a deep mock voice. "He really needs to work on his vocabulary."

"I rather enjoy his short conversations. Better than those which talk my ear off."

Ester playfully nudged me. "Watch it big mouth, you can't hit the side of a barn now that you've suffered brain damage." She'll never grow up.

But it was… true. My cognitive abilities have been impaired, one of the reasons I can't go on missions.

"Guess I can be glad It's not permanent." I mumbled.

"Well, now you can thank the man who saved you."

Dr Leo Valenti. The genius – maniac, with a love for experiments.

He decided to include his age extension prototype along with a cure for the toxin, a nice addition. It was projected for me to not age a day and live until the 24th century.

He also spearheaded the operation on saving my life. As glad as I was, the extra cybernetics, genetically improved organs, new gene mods and god knows what else, that was added had me in a bit of a mood. The worst part were the Reaper implants. I definitely didn't order those.

According to Ester, I was used as a testbed for Shepard's reconstruction, with Leo's approval. Why I didn't know, maybe as a payment, matter of convenience? Who knew.

We came to a door with a haptic lock, a new security measure adopted almost everywhere nowadays, Ester passed her omni-tool in front of the haptic screen.

The door to Leo's office opened, the smell of cleaning chemicals was replaced with a pine refresher. His office was rather generously stocked, with exotic wood decorating the walls, luxurious black chairs, couple of alien plants and a lovely view on the snowy valley the research lab was built upon. Never knew Leo had a hippy naturalist side.

"Huh, Leo knows how to decorate. Fancy that." Ester said, stepping into his office.

"Don't tell me you actually like this mess." I retorted.

Ester sat in one of the chairs, making herself comfortable. "Wow. Rude."

Leo wasn't in his office so I took to his window overlooking the valley. I'll admit that his view was not bad, but you cannot compare the freezing wastelands of Gellix to the untouched paradise world of Themis.

"Ester… is that you again?!" Leo's voice came down the hallway.

"Yes, and I've brought a friend!"

A second later Leo finally arrived, filled with joy. "Reid! Ha-ha, you live!"

"I do. Ester told me you had a hand in it."

"I most certainly did." Leo said, walking over to his desk, taking a seat. "Those two months really paid off."

I sat down across making sure we were face-to-face. "Yes they did, thanks by the way."

"No problem. So what brings you here?"

"The upgrades."

"Ah, those things." He fidgeted in his seat. "Let me just straight up tell you. The Illusive Man asked me to implant them – you can't really oppose him."

"He said something along the lines that these upgrades could be the future of Cerberus."

The Illusive Man. "Of course." I rubbed my temples. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Illusive Man's love for 'enhancements' was apparent. All you had to do is look into his eyes. He went on about Reaper technology, as if would bring salvation upon the human race. His lust for this technology has me worried, he already shoved it in me, demonstrating his willingness in pursuing this… Pandora's box.

"You suspected him?"

"A bit."

I let out a slow sight, as an awkward silence enveloped the room.

I wanted to confront the Illusive Man about stuffing me with Reaper tech, but what good would that do? He made his decision, I can't ask him to take it out, it might be permanent, I could alive because of it. Dilemmas like these aren't easy to solve, I don't seem to have any side effects… not now anyway.

"Any idea why?"

Leo just shook his head.

"Okay. Three more things. First, how goes the Mass Relay project?"

Leo beamed. The Mass Relay project – now codename 'Firewall', not my idea, was a big passion of his. "Great! We've made a lot of progress, a dream come true."

He then darkened the room, closing the blinds of the window and shutting off the lights. A holographic screen appeared where the window was, displaying a plethora of graphs, readings, mathematical models and more science stuff I didn't fully comprehend.

"When you were here last time, we could only manipulate the Mass Relays in very insignificant ways. But now ships transiting between relays can be slowed down to 34%. That means if applied it could take half an hour between Charon and Arcturus and were not done yet."

Leo enhanced an image of a mangled scout probe, its metal was warped a hollow casing was all that's left from whatever mangled it.

"This is the first 'ship' destroyed by and Mass Relay ever." Leo proceeded to stare at the probe in awe. He was proud, as he should be. The feeling of working towards something very hard and then seeing your creation take shape is a beautiful sight.

"For now, we can only destroy small objects, but as time progresses, we could crush cruisers with this. We're still trying to figure out how to shut a relay down or reposition it, but no luck there yet."

He then turned off the projection and opened the blinders, as the light came back into the room he swivelled in his chair, coming round to face me.

"You have done the impossible Leo, great job."

"Thank you. I only wish I could see the faces of my colleagues back on Earth, I finally got the last laugh."

He definitely deserved this, I'm happy for him, something not too common these days.

"Now, you had two more things, yes?"

"Right, the quarian. Uhhh…"

"Yaene?" Leo asked.

"That's the one. Is she still working on the blue box?"

"Yes, I must say I'm impressed at how she went about it, even if it's not finished. Her device could theoretically hold a million geth programs. There are some maintenance issues and it needs a lot of space, it's also quite crude looking – the wiring is all over the place. Power is also an issue, it takes a small fusion reactor of its own to run."

"No problems with her?"

"Despite the fact she's an alien?" Leo hummed, trying to think of something to get rid of her. He criticized my decision since day one. "No, none." At least he was honest.

"Good, you can dispose of her."

Leo blinked three times before opening his mouth again.

"You m-mean… kill her? Where did that come from?"

"She's a security risk. Our forces had an incident aboard one of their ships. Diplomatic negotiations disintegrated. If she somehow discovers about the event. She'll likely sabotage her device or worse, one of our projects."

"Huh... Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to get rid of her it just seems a bit excessive." He said, spinning his pen. "Then again we're Cerberus."

"Precisely." I then turned to Ester.

She rolled her eyes, unholstered her gun and loaded it with a thermal clip.

"Don't forget to take a security team, quarians are devious."

"Yes, yes. This isn't my first time on the job." She said, already signalling a team for support. "Be back in a bit."

Quarians were probably the only race I didn't outright hate, because of their situation. Slowly dying out thanks to the mistakes their ancestors made was not fair and the Council were pretty much committing genocide and not a single soul seemed to care. I planned to use quarians to further my goals, however that plan was off the table the moment some idiot almost blew up a cruiser. Which are pretty much sacred to quarians.

"So… Object 13. Any idea what it is?"

Leo looked at me, frowning. "Yes, I… think. But I can't tell you."

"Excuse me?" I blurted out. "I do own the place – last time I checked."

Leo sighed, now tapping his pen on the table.

"The Illusive Man sent me a message an hour or two before you came. Object 13 is off-limits to all non-essential personnel, which includes you."

I stood up and smacked the table out of frustration. "I'm non-essential?!"

"Sorry Reid, not my orders. You know he can override any decisions we make."

"Yes! I know." I started walking from one end on the room to the other, trying to calm down. Whilst thinking about a single reason about why… our esteemed leader decided to do did this.

I tried to find any kind of rationale behind the Illusive Man's thinking, however nothing came to mind, I was in the dark and I didn't like that.

I turned to Leo who was still patiently sitting in his chair. "I'm… going to Themis, I need to clear my head and think about. You know, anything else but this."

"Oh, sure, I completely understand. Do call if you need me for anything else."

I left his office, the doors whizzed, closing behind me. I opened my omni-tool and started to write a message about the situation and her new mission.

Acies Frontier, Serva System, Themis, Helios Base

2.1.2184 1118 EST

Ester was cursing my name somewhere on the Citadel, to say she was not happy would be an understatement. Tired, burnt out I think is what she described feeling when we met. She was happy to see me and to take a break from the constant strain off work. Now she's likely plotting some sort of scheme to annoy me for the rest of the year.

Tedric was investigating a possible lead for those N8 supersoldiers, Retro was watching his ship getting pieced back together and Mason was running errands across the galaxy and at the same time hunting the asari.

Meanwhile, I was in my lovely office, overlooking the ever-developing Ambury, with 16 thousand residents, who have never been happier.

Yeah, being back felt good.

Six months of coma left me tons of work. Ester didn't have any micromanaging capabilities whatsoever… figures. She needed a squad of administrators to help her. I kept those that did trivial nonsense and sent the rest to my new company, Highwide Industries.

I needed materials. The galactic market fluctuated right after the Citadel 'geth' attack, rare metals and eezo prices skyrocketed, because the Council needed to re-build the decimated Citadel fleet. Henceforth, I couldn't rely on the market if a war with the Reapers was to break out, which now seemed inevitable. Therefore, Highwide Industries will provide heavy machinery, mining, extracting, construction and agriculture.

The newly born company is now searching for suitable financing since I can't use Aphelion or Northstar for funds, as too many people are breathing down my neck.

Northstar had its 3rd scandal since being taken over by me. Stolen technology was found in a shipping container in some Brazilian port. Unauthorized ship entered the airspace of an Alliance military base. The Chief Administrative Officer was caught in alien slave trafficking… It keeps pilling up.

Aphelion was also not doing good.

Confidential information leak, money laundering, illegal lobbying, etc, etc. Follow by a stream of legal battles that never end.

I was aware of the problems for some time now, but I can't do everything on my own. It's hard finding the right people for the right job when the requirements have to be strict. I absolutely cannot have ABS spies sniffing around or worse… AIA agents infiltrating my property, making new recruitment harder, much harder. I also can't hire well-known figures for marketing, whether they come from the business or entertainment sector. Keeping myself out of the spotlight has been exhausting and not all successful.

Now the executive board is pressuring me to move quickly on my decisions, and it's bloody annoying.

But I guess that's what leadership is all about… sorting out problems no one else can, making hard the decisions, taking the blame for everyone and everything. Keeping the ship afloat, no matter the cost.

Voyager Cluster, Nile System, Blacksmith Station, Dry Dock 6

7.2.2184 0809 EST

The Normandy SR-2 was much better looking, Cerberus colours looked good on her, even if it was only a projection at this stage. The metal skeleton of the ship was finished, now came the internal parts, then the hull and at last a crew.

I was not tasked with finding the people who would fly this magnificent piece of engineering, nor would I want to. People are not my speciality, only by some miracle have I not recruited only psychopaths for the last couple of years.

Looking out of the window, I noticed that the workers have gone back to working on the ship. Climbing scaffolds, performing EVA walks along the skeletal layout.

The Normandy is scheduled for the 11th of November, right before the pilot arrives. Jeff "Joker" Moreau. From what I read he's the one who stole the first Normandy. I've already thought of a way to make sure he doesn't steal the SR-2, by finding the address of his family, living on Tiptree. Retro described it as 'delightfully devilish'.

"Hey, boss-man."

Speak of the devil.

"Retro... how's the ship?"

"Fine, just fine. All we had to do was saw her in half." He leaned against the railing, overlooking the Normandy. "Cerberus is putting her back together. I suggested duct tape, that idea was quickly shot down. I wanted to propose superglue next but they kicked me out."

"I wonder why."

Retro noticed my quip, taking a short moment to reply. "Perhaps I was threatening them. The wisdom that I possess can't be taken for granted."

"What would I do without you?"

"Okay. My Sarcasms-O-Meter is off the charts. What made you so joyeux?"

I let myself chuckle since it's been a while. "Just an occasion, don't get used to it."

"I'm not saying you can't… I'd actually prefer a wittier version of you." Retro turned his head in my direction. "But you know, the cold, imperious demeanour suits you."

"I'll that it as a compliment."

Retro slightly bowed his head. "Thank you – your majesty."

The workers were starting to apply various pieces of the hull onto the skeleton of the ship. Already prepared and painted, they assembled them together as if the ship was a puzzle piece.

Watching the people – I employ work suddenly made me think about my purpose as a leader and the journey that made me one.

It all started with me presenting useful intelligence to Cerberus, allowing them to gain the upper hand in a war they were losing. Alliance intelligence services failed to deliver since my intervention and I was awarded a prominent, powerful position within Cerberuses hierarchy. I had to work hard for even a sliver of respect from my colleagues and to build up my cell from nothing using only assets the Illusive Man sent me.

As time went on, I had to become more distant with the people I work with. Time started to fly by, I didn't even have time for my closest of friends. Then the Eden Prime war started, I became hell-bent on combating geth. That led me to nearly dying. But I'm still kicking.

And at the end of that journey. I can proudly proclaim that I've become one of the people who keep the galaxy spinning. My word carries weight, my decisions affect millions of people, I have a loyal support base and a mostly cordial relationship with my peers. Although there were some casualties along the way, the most prominent being the irony of becoming what I use to despise. Shadowy men, leading the world from behind the scenes. Perhaps the whole concept of accountable leaders was a naïve one, people like me really are needed for society to function. At least from what I saw.

There are a lot of uncertainties in life. I keep looking back… thinking if I made the right choice. But sometimes, you don't exactly get to choose.

I have to work harder but still, have time for those who helped me get here. Starting today.

"Phil?"

"Huh?"

"Why do they call you Retro?"

Retro straightened himself, scratching his beard.

"Um… I think the nickname goes all the way back to elementary. I used to be interested in history, obsessed even. The names they called me were usually 'old timer' or some other overused nonsense, one day someone called me Retro and it sort of stuck."

"Do you still like history?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. One of my quirks is listening to old music, something considered weird these days. Not that I care - but I seriously don't understand why people like the generic, computer generated trash produced these days."

Small talk was never my strong point, yet it seemed so easy. Probably because we knew each other for some time now. I'd like to think we're good friends, I mean he did just open up to me.

My omni-tool abruptly beeped, but I knew what it was without looking at the message.

"Going so soon?"

"No rest for the wicked. Be seeing you."

"Sure thing... I'll just… bore myself to death here."

I signalled the shuttle pilot to warm up the engines, as the ride ahead would be a long one.