A/N: And right about here, no a little to the left... a little further, there. Perfect!
... what was I saying? Oh yes, right about here is where Wednesday Shepard starts to take some serious dives away from official canon and into the fantastic world of my fevered imagination.
Also, why is it always 'left of canon' instead of right? Or up, down, perpendicular, or any other orthogonal vector?
Also Also, updates might be a little less frequent on Wednesday for a while. I'm going on holiday soon.
As they made the final jump into the swirling pinks and purples of the Widow Nebula that housed the gigantic Citadel, Joker and Pressly began initiating all the comm. traffic that was needed to get them into dock. From what Wednesday could overhear from her work at the command podium, there was a bit of an issue since the turian 7th fleet was in the system. She smirked, glad that the Council could see reason, if not perhaps sense. She was about to head down to the mess when she received an alert at her station. Most of the available comms to the Normandy were being taken up by docking procedures, so this message was short and to the point.
Get out of the system. Don't dock. It's a trap. Anderson
Three short sentences and a name. It wasn't a lot to go on, but anything from Anderson, her inside source on the ground, was priority at this stage. Taking a second to examine the short note, she pondered it for a minute more as they approached the high-priority pool for docking clearance. Just as Joker was given the go ahead from docking control, Wednesday made her choice.
"Joker, change of plans. We're leaving."
"What? I mean, what's the new destination Commander?" he recovered.
"Anywhere that isn't here. Now take us back to the relay," Wednesday replied.
"Aye Ma'am," he said, before the subtle press of inertia told her the ship was moving. Wednesday started counting, and got to 18 before Pressly spoke up.
"Incoming transmission from the Council Commander, patching it to the comm. room. It sounds urgent." That they think that, I have no doubt, Wednesday thought privately. She entered the comm. room to see the Council already waiting, plus the snivelling Udina as well. Wednesday was wary, she'd never had anything to do with Udina until now.
"Councillors."
"Commander Shepard, why have you not docked the Normandy?" asked Sparatus, a little too casually.
"I've received some new information, and I'm heading to investigate," Wednesday lied smoothly. And it was a good lie, because it had a grain of truth to it.
"Commander," Udina said, and there was an odd twang to his voice. Anticipation, hunger almost. "I strongly urge you to dock at the Citadel and meet with the Council before you leave the system."
"I'm sorry Ambassador, but my mission takes precedence." There was a silent beat, and something twitched on Sparatus' face.
"Ambassador," he said pointedly to Udina, "why do I get the feeling the Commander isn't willing to see reason here?"
"Uh Commander," said Joker to her personal comm. channel, unheard by the Councillors. "We have a problem. A couple of turian frigates are forming up on us, and I don't like the way they are trying to hide the fact they are powering weapons." Wednesday kept her face as neutral as possible to the Council.
"Is there something specific you need, Councillors?" she asked carefully.
"There are serious political implications here Shepard," Said Udina, giving up whatever pretence he had been maintaining. "Humanity's made great gains thanks to you, but now you're becoming more trouble than you're worth. This could have all been avoided if you'd just docked. Then we could have grounded the Normandy and let cooler heads prevail here."
"Wait a minute, you were going to ground my ship?" she growled at the human hologram.
"If we had to," replied Udina. "The Saren situation would have been dealt with."
"So does that mean you're sending a fleet to Ilos?"
"Of course not," Sparatus interrupted. "The Mu relay is inside the Terminus. Sending a fleet in would only inspire full-scale war."
"Saren's greatest weapon was secrecy Commander," Udina continued. "Exposed, he is no longer a threat. Your mission is over."
Wednesday shook her head in disbelief.
"Are you both forgetting about the geth armada and the giant dreadnaught Sovereign? Those are a clear and present threat. Not to mention whatever the Conduit is."
"Saren is a master manipulator," Valern said in reply. "Whatever the 'Conduit' is, it's more likely a distraction for his real plan to attack the Citadel."
"So you'll do nothing about Ilos then?" asked Wednesday, her anger downplayed by her admiration for the sheer scale of the political backstabbing that was being attempted, not that she intended to be there when the knife was thrust. You almost had to hand it to them, and she would, blade first.
"We won't invade the Terminus and spark a war because of something only you have experienced Commander," said Tevos, obviously uncomfortable with the situation.
"Then don't invade. I was only coming to the Citadel as a courtesy to Captain Kirrahe to exchange Imness for my own personnel, but I don't have to. Send me and the Normandy, a stealth ship if I have to remind you, to Ilos. I can be discreet."
"You used a nuclear device on Virmire, I wouldn't call that discreet!" shouted Sparatus.
"A plan originally espoused by Captain Kirrahe, STG operative. When a salarian team known for discretion suggests using nuclear weapons, you can be sure they investigated all other options!"
"Your style suited you well in the Traverse Commander, we recognise that," said Valern. "However, the Terminus is an entirely different matter."
"Commander, please. I'm asking you personally to surrender yourself and your vessel until we can be sure you won't do anything rash," Tevos said quietly. Wednesday was almost sad to see her like this, she was actually the most reasonable and likeable of the Councillors. But sadly one decent person weighed down by asshats still meant the balance shifted towards asshat, and an Addams never cared about asshats.
"I'm sorry Councillor, but my mind is set. The Normandy is going to Ilos."
"Then you leave us no choice Commander," Sparatus said haughtily. "If you do not power down the Normandy and prepare to be boarded and arrested, your Spectre status will be revoked and the turian 7th fleet will be dispatched to destroy your vessel and any and all harbouring it."
"And don't think your little co-conspirator Captain Anderson will get off scot-free for sending you that message against orders. Captain Anderson will be tried and convicted of treason, and likely executed," added Udina. His face was a satisfied sneer, until he realised that he had just threatened an Addams, a breed not known for taking things like that lightly.
Wednesday considered for a moment, Joker still squawking in her ear about how the frigates were weapons hot, a cruiser was lining up a firing position, and they were only 30 seconds from the relay. She glared deeply into each of the four sets of holographic eyes, resting the longest on Udina and watching his face pale visibly.
"Nobody stabs me in the back Udina. Nobody." She said in a menacing growl. Cutting off the channel without warning, she shouted at the ceiling. "Joker, engage stealth systems and get us the fuck out of here. From this moment on, we are rogue. Get us to Ilos. NOW!"
Soon after the League Silenced, Captain Kirrahe's ship, limped into the Widow Nebula, Kirrahe was on edge. The turian 7th fleet was in-system, and from the looks of things they were edging for a fight, or had just missed one. Either way, they were clustered incredibly close to the relay and a few of the frigates and cruisers looked weapons hot on the sensors. Kirrahe was about to open a channel to the flag dreadnaught, Pride of Aephus, when instead he received a priority request from the Citadel. He opened the channel, mildly surprised to see Councillor Valern hovering from the comm. station instead of the STG contact at the Citadel.
"Councillor Valern, to what do I owe this rare honour?"
"A request Kirrahe, nothing more. Do you currently have in your custody any crew from the Normandy?" Kirrahe couldn't help but notice the use of the word 'custody' instead of more polite terms.
"Yes, we have almost a dozen humans recently from the Normandy. We had expected to rendezvous on the Citadel to exchange them for Lieutenant Imness."
"I'm afraid that will no longer be possible Captain. You have new orders." Kirrahe noticed the slight tightening of certain facial muscles, and surmised that these orders weren't coming from Valern himself, but were rather being foisted on him, possibly by Sparatus.
"I'm listening."
"You are to place any Normandy crew into custody immediately, then proceed to the Citadel. Once there, you will hand over these prisoners to C-Sec. Then we can start to hope that Commander Shepard will listen to reason and return to the Citadel, instead of starting a war with the Terminus on a ridiculous whim." Kirrahe was silent for a moment, thinking about just how much of a fight the humans would put up when they found out they were being arrested. He doubted very much they would go quietly, especially Chief Williams. He also thought about what he had seen and experienced of Commander Shepard. She may be eccentric, but she didn't strike him as someone who did something without good reason, or someone to give up an intended course over mere threats.
"All due respect Councillor, I simply do not have the number to detain the humans at the present. I lost nearly two-thirds of my men on Virmire, and I don't fancy the chances of my few men trying to subdue a dozen battle-hardened marines, some of them biotics and officers, without losing more. I will dock at the Citadel, and C-Sec can try their luck there. And don't think I can't see what you're doing Councillor. Just because she has convictions and is inconvenient to you doesn't mean she isn't right. Just look at what happened with Saren."
There was a long, pregnant pause from the hooded salarian in the hologram.
"Understood Captain. Your orders stand. And if I hear that tone from you again, I'll either have you court-martialled or 'promoted' to head of the ship-maintenance on Rannadril."
It was a very different feeling in the mess compared to six hours ago. Six hours ago, they had been heading to the Citadel, flush with success from the raid on Virmire, about to head to Ilos with a fleet to pre-empt whatever Saren was planning on that planet. Now, they were rogues and fugitives running as fast and quiet as they dared, hoping they could reach Ilos without a fight and hoping to get there in time to find something, anything, that could get them a reprieve. It certainly put a damper on most of the crew, even if they were loyal to Wednesday. The only ones who actually seemed happy were Wrex and Wednesday herself, who were currently swapping stories and ryncol in equal measure.
"So that mess ended pretty badly," Wrex said loudly. "I mean sure, I killed the stupid fuck, but I still lost the bet with Wreav. And the worst part is that everyone knew it. It wasn't enough that I managed to pull his head off with one arm, I still had to use my biotics to do it. So just to satisfy Wreav, and let's not kid ourselves, myself, since I was younger and a lot stupider, I did it. Got an asari bartender I knew and an industrial blender and liquefied his corpse. Then I had her mix in some ryncol and drank it. It tasted like shit, and you don't even want to know about the hangover. So yeah, that was my biggest drinking regret." Wednesday was laughing into her drink, and Wrex was shuddering while he repressed the memory once more.
"That has to be one of the funniest stories I've ever heard!" she said.
"Funnier than leaving a trail the turians will follow right to wherever we manage to hide?" Wrex said seriously. Wednesday just looked at him soberly in return. "Wait a minute, you did that on purpose, didn't you?" he asked slowly, understanding dawning on his face. "You're taking this ship to Ilos, and making sure any turians with enough quad to follow you get a good look at Saren's fleet. Oh, you're a crafty one Addams." Before Wednesday could reply, Joker's voice sounded over the intercom.
"Commander, we're through the first relay, heading to the next one. Sensors show that elements of the turian 7th are in pursuit, but won't be able to close to weapons range."
"How many are there Joker?"
"I'm reading three cruisers and a dozen frigates."
"Good, give them enough to keep pursuing, but stay out of weapons range."
"Aye Commander. ETA to Ilos: eight hours."
Wrex looked like he was about to say more, when movement to the side caught his eye. He turned a red eye to get a better look and saw the lithe asari approaching the table, but something was different about her. She looked more confident, her outfit was a little less dowdy, and she smelled different. Wrex had been chuckling to himself for days as he had figured out why all of a sudden both Liara and Wednesday had started smelling different. At first he thought it was something wrong with the air recyclers, but it only occurred when either of them were present. When they were both in the room at the same time, it clicked.
The way Wednesday stole furtive looks when Liara wasn't looking, the way that Liara's mood and dress had become more outgoing and confident, it all came together. It had started right after Feros. And it had been building both in body language and scent so even he couldn't ignore it anymore. The only question was how the two of them were managing to stay so oblivious. He finished his drink and stood to leave, gesturing to T'Soni to take his still-warm seat. Wednesday tried to catch his eye and silently say something, but he just smiled in reply, topping it off with a knowing and salacious wink.
There was an awkward silence between them, slowly expanding outwards to fill the empty mess. Both of them opened their mouths to try and say something, but the words never came, so they remained in silence. Then finally Wednesday found the courage, partially lent to her by ryncol.
"Liara, I uh..."
"I've been meaning to talk to you Shepard," Liara said softly. Though her dress couldn't be changed, her confident manner had evaporated as soon as she had sat down. "I've been feeling very strange recently, mentally mostly. Ever since our meld after Feros, I've felt... odd. Like there is something else that came across during the meld, and it's in my mind now, indoctrinating me somehow. Oh, I must sound like a fool," she said harshly, turning her head away.
"No, you sound like someone trying to understand by talking about it. And would it surprise you to know I've been thinking about that incident as well?" Liara turned back to Wednesday, fascinated that the human's eyes now appeared to be dark brown, as opposed to the deep blues and greens she had previously seen. She had looked it up on the extranet and learned that Wednesday's eyes weren't magical or technologically different. She just had what were referred to as 'hazel' eyes, meaning the colour perceived shifted according to lighting and clothing. She brought her attention back to the conversation as Wednesday continued. "I know you saw what really happened to your mother, and I felt a rush of my memories and experiences flow between us, just as some of yours did to me. So I have a feeling that even though you didn't mean to, those things from me are slowly changing the way you think, probably at an unconscious level."
"That makes sense I suppose," Liara conceded. She had heard of such thing, young asari thinking like turians or salarians if they melded young enough, but she never thought it would happen to her.
"So, what do we do about it?" the asari asked.
"Honestly, I'm not sure what we can do at this point," Wednesday replied. "We'd need an asari mental specialist, and we don't exactly have time to find one. We're about to take the fight to Saren, and I can't imagine it will be an easy one. None of us may make it out of this alive."
"But if we do? If we survive this and win, what do we do about us?"
"Us?" Wednesday zeroed in on the word.
"I meant this!" Liara sputtered. She hung her head slightly. "Though I would be fooling myself if I said I didn't mean 'us' as well. I don't know if you can tell, but I've had these... feelings for you. And I cannot believe I just said that," Liara said, her cheeks edging towards indigo. Wednesday reached out a hand and put it over one of Liara's. The touch was tingly for both of them, and the look between them was confused, but also excited.
"You're not the only one Liara," Wednesday said, her own cheeks starting to colour. "But we can't get into this right now, it wouldn't be fair to either of us." Liara looked down sadly, moving to take her hand away, but Wednesday's wouldn't let go.
"What?" she asked Wednesday quietly.
"We don't have time to figure out us Liara, not right now, but you deserve some closure. Come to my cabin in 30 minutes, and I'll have something you'll need for this fight."
"Alright Shepard... Wednesday," Liara whispered, before getting up and leaving. Wednesday sat, gaze fixed on Liara's retreating form, cursing herself and her sudden inconvenient feelings.
Ashley knew something was wrong when the Captain Kirrahe avoided speaking to them on the approach to the Citadel. She had built up a grudging respect for the salarians after the Virmire assault, they may not have looked like much, but they thought fast and were pretty good with the tech disruption that was so devastating against the geth they had been facing. They had also been very friendly as they had limped their way back to the relay in the damaged League Silenced. But after they had made it to the Citadel, and were going through the docking process, something seemed off. As the Normandy marine detachment including herself and Kaidan, went through the decon without any accompanying salarians, her nagging feeling increased. She would have at least expected Kirrahe to join them to the Normandy, or head off to his STG superiors on the Citadel. Now she looked at all the humans in the same place, no salarians, and saw nothing but a trap.
"I don't like this LT," she said quietly.
"What's wrong Ash?" he said, none of her trepidation evident in his manner.
"Something doesn't feel right," she replied ominously.
The outer airlock door opened to reveal that Ashley's feelings of trepidation were not without cause. Udina was standing there, along with a large contingent of C-Sec agents of various species, all looking at them down the sights of their rifles.
"Ah, good," said Udina in his sleazy way, as the marines held their hands up in surrender.
"What's going on Ambassador?" asked Kaidan evenly, his anger kept in check by the rifles pointing at him.
"Just a... precaution Lieutenant," Udina replied. "You will let these agents take you into custody and escort you to C-Sec headquarters. Then we'll see about getting this mess cleaned up."
"What are you talking about sir?"
"It seems that Commander Shepard feels the need to disobey direct orders. We're hoping, assuming that you aren't somehow complicit in her schemes, that you can help her see reason."
"I knew she was crazy!" Ashley muttered, just loud enough for Kaidan to hear.
"Now, if you cooperate and come quietly, I can make sure this whole misunderstanding is dealt with discreetly. Who knows, play your cards right and I might even be able to throw in a promotion." As her wrists were bound and they were all led away from the salarian ship, Ashley wondered if she had just traded Shepard's frying pan for the fires of Udina and the Alliance.
Rather than wait until Liara had joined her, Wednesday was already connected to Fester before she arrived. She wanted to talk to him first, find out just how much he had been able to do for Benezia since the last time she had called.
"Wednesday, can I assume the reason you're calling?"
"Yes Uncle. I want to give Liara the closure of talking to Benezia one last time."
"What are you talking about, 'one last time' isn't something we Addams think about."
"But it might be Uncle. We're about to embark on one of the most dangerous missions yet. We had to go rogue to do it, and we've got a sizable fleet chasing us with orders to kill or capture, and I don't see them breaking out the handcuffs."
"Ah, the delights of living outside the law! I'm so proud of my favourite niece. Alright, I get the point. So, would you like a status update on her condition first?"
"If you would, please."
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"I've been able to counter-act some of the unfortunate side-effects of my procedure. She still doesn't remember the last twenty-odd years, those sections of the brain were too badly damaged. Also, she'll have problems forming new long-term memories from now on. Her IQ is still a lot lower than it used to be, but she remembers all the basics. Her attention span is now better, though I won't call it back to normal. In my opinion she'll be able to live by herself for a while, but she shouldn't. She still needs someone to look after her, once I'm done with it all."
"Could she live with you, Uncle?"
"Why would I want to do a thing like that?"
"Because she'll never be able to live in asari society again, not even if Saren is defeated. She's too weak to fend for herself mentally, and according to you she'll need constant care."
"But what in the many and various hells am I supposed to do with her?"
"You're always saying how lonely you are on Noveria. Make her an assistant, I'm sure she's capable of that. And even though you are the last person to need more money to care for her, I'm sure that her estate could spare any resources or personnel you may require."
There was a pause as Wednesday thought, but didn't voice, that it would be a good way to gain Liara's favour, if she didn't mind being indebted to her Uncle. But her Uncle had known her all her life, and could read her silence like a book.
"You want me to do this as a favour to you as well, don't you? Something for your hoping-to-be-something asari?"
"I don't know when you managed to read me so well, but I swear to you..."
"Oh please, no threats Wednesday. And I'm your Uncle, not a broker, so I won't hold out for a favour either. Why would I need a favour from a rogue ex-Spectre anyway?"
"So it's hit the news?"
"Just came in. You're as bad as Saren now, looking to start a war in the Terminus. Ballsy Wednesday, most definitely ballsy. But the media isn't exactly known for its accuracy in reporting, so I'm guessing you just defied orders do our Duty. Anyway, this won't be for a favour, but I want to hear you admit it."
"Admit what Uncle?"
"That the reason you're asking for this right now is because you like this Liara, and want to pursue something with her."
"Fine, I'll admit there's an attraction, mutual if you can believe it. But it's not a good idea to try anything right now, since we are only six hours from potential hostiles, our death, and the end of life in the galaxy as we know it."
Unbeknownst to Wednesday or Fester, Liara had entered the room and had overheard Wednesday's confession to her Uncle. She coughed politely to get their attention, which caused Wednesday to jump a little.
"How long were you standing there?" Wednesday asked defensively.
"Not long," Liara lied. She would hold on to Wednesday's admission tightly, it gave her a ridiculous hope for after their mission was done, if there was an after. She tried madly to stop it showing on her cheeks, suddenly thankful for the politics and etiquette lessons her mother insisted upon when she was younger. "So, you wanted to see me Shepard?"
"Oh, she sounds pretty," came Fester's voice from Wednesday's open omni-tool.
"Behave Uncle," she chided her wrist. She silently patted the bed she was sitting on, and Liara obliged. "Uncle Fester, this is Liara. Liara, this is my Uncle Fester, he's the one leading your mother's... treatment."
"But you won't tell me where she is, or how she is doing?" Liara's voice was blunt and accusatory.
"It's for her safety as much as yours," replied Fester. "In her condition she's too vulnerable, and even the best fortress has weaknesses, and my lab isn't a fortress by any stretch. She's safe, and comfortable, being here and everyone else assuming she's dead."
"Fine, then can I at least speak to her?" Liara asked, tears forming in her eyes.
"That's why I asked you here Liara. You need this closure, and I suspect she does as well," said Wednesday.
"Wait one moment, and I'll put her through."
There was a moment of silence, before a familiar, if unsure and shaky, voice sounded in Wednesday's room.
"He-hello? Who is this?" Liara's threatened tears began to fall.
"Mother?"
"Liara... my Little Wing... oh you don't know how much I've missed you since you moved to Serrice." Liara turned a questioning eye to Wednesday and leaned close to whisper into the human's ear.
"Serrice? I haven't been there in nearly twenty years Wednesday, even my mother knows this, even if we haven't spoken since before I moved. What's going on?"
"Well... She's lost a lot of memory. Uncle's best guess is she can't, and probably never will, remember the last twenty years." Liara sobbed again, and Wednesday wondered if she said something wrong.
"Oh Goddess, this seems too good to be true. I can't believe... this is a second chance," she said between light sobs.
"Li-Liara, are you still there?"
"Yes Mother, I'm still here. I'm sorry I haven't called earlier." The sobbing had stopped, but the tears still fell down her sky-blue cheeks.
"I'm sorry as well. I know I said some... hurtful things when you left the estate, but I was too afraid... too proud to try and call you."
"I forgive you Mother."
"No, I don't want it to be so easy Liara, not with you. I can't remember what, or why, the last twenty years seem a blur. But I somehow feel that it was my pride that led me to my current state. And that pride hurt you, and my relationship with you, more than I think I was able to ever admit." Liara was leaning on Wednesday's shoulder, face buried in her shirt, soaking it with her tears. "I don't remember what I did to push you away Liara, I can't remember why we were so estranged. But I know that asking forgiveness won't be enough to fix it, whatever it is. I can only say I hope we can be a family again someday."
"Mother..." Liara was uncertain of what to say, or what she wanted. "Mother... are you being treated well?" It was one thing to hear it from someone who had captured her, but quite another to hear it from the source.
"I am cared for certainly, even if the tests that Fester put me through to help me were... exceedingly unpleasant. It's cold outside, but the food is good here, and it's comfortable. I think he's asking me to be his assistant, and I want to... to feel useful again."
"I... I think that would be a good idea Mother," Liara said eventually. She knew that her mother would never be welcome on Thessia again, not after her conduct with Saren, not the way she was now. Too many years, too many enemies held at bay only by the Matriarch's unmatched political savvy and piercing intellect. If she ever returned, her enemies would be lined up to take their revenge.
"Liara... I'm, I'm afraid..." Benezia said softly. Wednesday felt the sudden urge not to be there, but since the conversation was happening through her wrist, she couldn't leave. She didn't want to listen to this startlingly private conversation, but she had no other option.
"Of what, Mother?" Liara's held bolted up, all the tears now gone from her eyes.
"I... I don't know, I can't remember. But I feel... like I put you in danger somehow. I... don't know how to say it anymore. But whatever I did, I'm sorry."
"Mother, you would never -"
"I promised myself and your sire that I wouldn't interfere in your life Little Wing. But my actions, and inactions, have interfered, and put you in positions you shouldn't have to know about. I can't remember the details, but I know I pushed you away after you went to Serrice. I'm sorry Little Wing, I'm so, so sorry." The Matriarch at the other end of the conversation, worlds apart from them, broke down crying. Her daughter did not match her; she had already cried all her tears for one day.
As Wednesday and Fester closed off the conversation, the former turned back to the asari still sitting almost uncomfortably close on her bed. Her cheeks and eyes were dark blue from her crying before, but there were no tears now. Instead of the crying mess she had been mere moments before, the water in her eyes had been replaced with steel. When she eventually looked back into Wednesday's eyes, the human had an inkling of what was so frightening about her own visage sometimes.
"Wednesday, when we find Saren, promise me one thing."
"What?"
"I want you to leave me some part of him that can feel pain before he dies." Liara's voice was calm, controlled, a malevolent whisper instead of frenzied ranting, but spoken with no less passion. "I want to feel and see his pain as I plunge my hand into his chest and pull out his still-beating heart, watch the light die in his eyes as I show it to him, before crushing it with my biotics. He took my mother away from me, turned her against me! I will not let that stand!"
"You want me to what?" Kaidan asked. He wasn't handcuffed anymore, but it sure felt like he was. He sat in a small room somewhere on the Citadel, and was getting sick of being questioned by a nameless Colonel.
"I think you heard me the first time Lieutenant Alenko," he replied blandly, like this was a chore and not an interrogation. "We want you to testify against Commander Wednesday Shepard." At least they had stopped with the insinuations that he was somehow involved with her sudden disappearance and alleged desertion.
"On what grounds, exactly?" he asked carefully. The colonel pulled up his omni-tool, displaying various reports filed by himself and Ashley.
"Since Commander Shepard began her mission, you and Chief Williams have submitted numerous reports, none of them flattering. While they would not usually amount to anything, her recent actions have changed this. Some of us who care more about humanity actually getting somewhere in the galaxy rather than playing up to the aliens for whatever scraps they deign to give us, saw great potential in Shepard. But it has become clear that far from being an advocate of humanity's greatness, she's become a maniac. So now we need to get rid of her ina way that looks good to everyone, but destroys her career permanently. And that means a court-martial. But reports can only go so far, we need witnesses to testify against her."
He took a deep breath before continuing. "She ignores chain of command and insults ranking officers. She eschews security protocol and gathers a crew of alien nations with free access to one of the most classified ships in the Alliance. These are things we can use, but it's not enough Alenko. We need people, former crewmembers like yourself, willing to testify that Commander Shepard no longer has the physical and mental ability to hold command of the Normandy. We need you to testify that she should be stripped of rank and privileges, dishonourably discharged and then charged, convicted and locked away!"
Kaidan said nothing, thinking it over as he sat, looking down at the slight imperfections in the tabletop. On the one hand, Shepard had been giving him, Ashley, the whole crew really, a pretty hard time of it. And he couldn't fault the colonel's accusation of disrespecting rank and allowing aliens onboard, even if he didn't agree with those particular allegations. But on the other hand, being a marine meant you were a family, and the one and only sin in the marines was messing with family. Sure, Shepard was downright bizarre at times on the ship, but when she was in the field, she was there 100%. She made sound tactical decisions based on the knowledge available, thought on her feet, and always had a backup plan ready to put into action. She never left anyone behind once the mission was over, and fought from the front, rather than a lot of desk-piloting officers he could name. She also never asked anyone to do something on the battlefield that she wouldn't do herself – a genuinely rare trait for a commanding officer.
"Why me? What do you get out of me testifying, specifically?" he asked finally. The colonel looked down. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He had hoped that he would be able to persuade Alenko, good looking and soft-spoken, a real PR one-two combo, into testifying. While he was certain that he could get Williams on board, her slightly outspoken xenophobia, not to mention her family history, would ultimately shed a bad light on the proceeding and the ultimate goal. Personally, he had no problem with Shepard being humanity's first Spectre and using that authority to chase aliens instead of humans. But her actions were putting a bad light on them all. So he was now following orders, not from his superiors in the Alliance, but from his true superiors, the Illusive Man and Cerberus. By getting the Alliance to discredit her publicly, making her feel betrayed and disenfranchised, it would be much easier for them to approach and subvert her to their cause. And it would save humanity a lot of face if the more personable Alenko testified instead of just Williams the hothead.
"Shepard needs to be removed, anyone can see that, but it needs to be done right Alenko. Your testifying would help a lot of that along. And your name would be seen in a considerably better light in return, especially when it comes to the 'recognition of extraordinary service' section on promotion applications." The colonel looked at his watch, trying not to let his anxiety show. He had only been able to detain the Normandy crew for so long before other Alliance operatives came, so he needed Alenko on board in the next five minutes or it would all fall apart. "So what is it going to be, Lieutenant? The fast track to your own command, or going down with the sinking ship?" he said, any trace of friendliness gone.
On the command podium, Wednesday scrolled through numerous data displays before activating the intercom as she watched a holographic representation of the system they were currently in.
"Joker, how are we doing?"
"Just about to come out of FTL and preparing to hit the Mu relay." As he said it there was a subtle shift as the ship dropped to sublight, quickly caught by the dampeners. "Looks like we've still got our fans, even if 'coming into this system would spark a war.' Guess you really must have pissed off ol' Sparagus."
"That's probably an understatement," Wednesday muttered under her breath. Having not heard her, Joker had switched the intercom over to the CIC channel.
"Hitting the relay in five, four, three, two, one." As he reached the end of his countdown the relay shot blue lightning towards the Normandy, rapidly using mass effect to reduce the ship'smass to nothing, before flinging it and the crew light-years across the galaxy.
Wednesday's biotics caused a few seconds of unease as they were flung at a rate that seemed impossible, but then the relay-assisted speedshot ended and the Normandy was in the Refuge system. But they were far from alone. Dotted throughout the system, converging around the relay and Ilos, were hundreds, possibly up to a thousand geth ships of various sizes. Right in the middle of the fleet, the gigantic Reaper Sovereign orbited Ilos.. As soon as the Normandy dropped to sublight, the entire geth cohort changed facing and powered weapons. Wednesday was already shouting out orders, hands manipulating the display faster than most other humans could follow.
"Joker, engage stealth mode and get us the hell out of their firing line. They'll plot a likely course until we're out of sight, so keep going along vector Alpha-5-X-Theta until we're ghosting, and then go along these random vectors for thirty seconds each until we're clear. Then get us to Ilos at best speed. We'll figure out what the hell we're doing once we're down there." She flicked the intercom to shipwide.
"All Hands, Battle Stations! Gunnery and engineering get ready for engagement, damage control teams suit up. All ground crew, I want you armed and armoured and ready to drop in ten. Imness, that goes for you too. Everyone make sure to bring extra rations for this drop, we might be here for a while."
Ten minutes later she was in the cargo bay, fully suited in her armour, all her weapons secured and her sword slung in its sheath over her shoulder. Wednesday was checking the storage compartments on her legs, belt and back to see if she had accounted for everything. Garrus and Wrex had already armoured up and checked their weapons, and were double-checking the Mako's systems and storage compartments. Tali was helping Liara into her hardsuit, while Imness was calmly standing nearby, aware that he wouldn't be much help, but ready to jump to if asked. Lurch was standing still as always, the giant zombie always ready to face whatever challenge with a stone-cold determination – or possibly sheer apathy. It was hard to tell with Lurch.
Just as Wednesday was finished her check, Joker came back over the intercom.
"Commander, we've reached Ilos. We have geth ships coming up from the surface, and we've tracked their likely drop zone."
"Understood, get us in there, fast and quiet," Wednesday replied absently, mind working on ground-based tactics.
"That's the problem Commander," came the voice of Pressly. "The landing zone is covered in buildings and overgrown vegetation, too much for the Normandy to handle. The nearest safe landing zone is twenty clicks away."
"Not an option Pressly," Wednesday replied sternly. "If Saren is down there, we need to catch him quickly. The Normandy can't land, what about a Mako drop?"
"You need at least 100 metres to pull off a drop like this. Nearest I can find near the target zone is twenty," said Pressly agitatedly.
"I can do it." Joker said firmly.
"Don't be ridiculous, no one can pull that off, the angle's too steep," Pressly scoffed.
"I can do it!" Joker repeated. Wednesday thought about it for a second, eyes subconsciously straying to Liara.
"Do it Joker," she said to the ceiling, before turning back to the ground crew. "Alright, you heard the man, we're doing a Mako drop. Everyone pile in. Garrus, I want you in the turret. Inmess, you're the navigator. Everyone else, weapons in reach and strap in, it's going to be a bumpy ride!" They all nodded the affirmative and got inside the six-wheeled tank, Wednesday easing into the driver's seat and strapping herself in. After making sure everyone was secure, she repositioned the Mako into the drop position and gave the order to seal engineering from the cargo bay. She was breathing hard and her nostrils and pupils were wide open with excitement. Joker's voice came over the Mako's speakers as they felt the Normandy burning through atmosphere.
"In three." The cargo bay doors opened, showing a vista of a rapidly approaching ruined city partially obscured by clouds.
"Two." Wednesday's grip on the controls tightened.
"One." With that final word the clamps released and Wednesday stomped on the accelerator, shooting the Mako out of the Normandy and into the air. They sliced through the air and clouds, the large stone and steel building rising up to meet them.
"Shepard," said Tali nervously. "Shepard, why aren't we slowing down? Why aren't we slowing down!? Keelah, I'm going to die and I'm going to kill you, Shepard you bosh'tet!" Tali screamed as the buildings came closer and there was no indication Wednesday was planning on slowing. At the last second, where's Tali's keening wail of fear was joined by Liara, Wednesday slammed on the thrusters, the mass effect core and the thrusters vents dramatically slowing them and changing the angle of decent so that instead of smashing into the ground in a horrible tangle of meat and metal, they bounced along jarringly towards a large group of geth escorting a turian. As the Mako came to a shuddering halt, Wednesday got one good look at the turian, who turned to give the Mako a hard, merciless sneer, before he was obscured by the closing of thick doors.
Garrus cursed from the turret that he didn't have time to line up a shot, before Wednesday and Imness did a systems check on the Mako. After confirming there was no damage, Wednesday ordered everyone out. She, along with Garrus and Liara, looked at the door that had separated them from Saren and his geth forces. It hadn't completely closed, there was a thin slit were the sections of the door didn't meet. Enough to put a hand through, but no more.
"This is... unusual Shepard," said Liara, looking up from the door and around at the crumbling buildings. "The visions from the beacon pointed to Ilos being a prothean planet, but these buildings are most definitely not prothean architecture. Maybe they came from a previous race, like Feros?"
"Whoever built it, they did so to last," Garrus said, kneeling as he inspected the door closely. "This door is heavily reinforced, nothing short of a nuke is going to budge it. I doubt the Mako's cannon's could even scratch it. I'm not sure how we're going to get past, since it looks like Saren damaged it on the way through." He poked a digit through the open section as a demonstration. But Wednesday wasn't looking at the door, at least not more than superficially. She was thinking of another door that was nigh-impregnable, until a previously immovable object met an unstoppable force.
"Lurch." There was the sudden sensation of looming, and the giant grey-skinned man was standing at her shoulder.
"You. Called.?" he rumbled. Wednesday turned to Garrus.
"Garrus, how much force do you think would be needed to lever this door open?" Garrus looked up and saw the glint in Wednesday's eyes, before they flicked over to Lurch's thick arms. "I think we probably have the force, but where are we going to find an appropriate lever arm?"
"Oh, I think I have an idea," Said Wednesday, predatory smile in place as she glanced over to the Mako. "We'll need a new tank after this I think." She turned to Lurch, who hadn't moved since he had spoken, waiting for orders from Wednesday.
"Lurch, would you be so kind as to open this door please? Use the cannon if you need to." She stood back, along with the rest of them, as Lurch stiffly, but silently as always, lurched up to the door. His thick-muscled hands barely fit into the opening, and he grunted deeply with effort, but to no avail. He then calmly walked over to the Mako, and with the torturous sounds of twisting metal, tore off the main cannon and walked back to the stubborn portal. He wedged it into an opening and pushed. The bass scream of metal and stone being wrenched in way it had never been designed to move, eons after it had first been put in place, was like music to Wednesday. After long, interminable minutes of metal agony, Lurch had forced the door wide enough for the Mako to go through. He stalked back over to Wedensday, dropping the deeply curved and now thoroughly unusable former barrel of the cannon.
As they all looked down into the dark portal, now seeing the first sunlight in time unimaginable, a sense of dread came over some of them.
"Who votes we take the tank into the creepy underground bunker?" asked Tali. All hands were raised, even including Wrex.
"Hey, even without the gun, this thing can still run over stuff, not to mention the thick armour and strong shields. Don't look at me like that, I'm practical, not scared!" As Wednesday ordered them back into the Mako, Joker came back over the comm.
"Shepard, do you copy?"
"Loud and clear Joker."
"We've left the atmosphere again, but something hinky is going on. The turians pursuing us came out of the relay, but the geth didn't manage to destroy them all before they escaped back through the relay. But the hinky part is that everything is following them, and I mean everything, even Sovereign and the geth ships around Ilos. There is nothing more advanced than a paperclip aside from us anymore."
"This doesn't feel right," said Garrus. "If the Conduit is the key to the Reapers, why are they all leaving? Leaving Saren on this planet, even if the Conduit is here, it doesn't make sense. Why go all the way to get a weapon without taking it away with you?"
"Unless the Conduit isn't a weapon in the traditional sense," mused Wednesday. "Maybe it's a ship, or something else. Whatever it is, Saren obviously thinks it can get him off planet. Joker, how long did the turians last?"
"About as long as a snowball in Las Vegas."
"Then the turian 7th fleet is in no way ready to take on the geth and Sovereign and win, assuming they are all still at the Citadel. They'll need reinforcement. Joker, take the Normandy and the battle telemetry to Admiral Hackett and the Fifth Fleet. If you have any problems, ask for Colonel Gomez Addams and tell him Wednesday sent you. Get them mobilised and ready to jump to the Citadel."
"But Commander -"
"Go Joker, that's an order. We will either stop Saren here, or follow him and whatever else he has up his sleeves. Either way, the Alliance needs to mobilise and you need to get moving!"
"Aye Commander," came the reply, before the channel closed. Wednesday got into the driver's seat and piloted the Mako down into the dark bunker, lighting beams on high.
After what seemed like days of questioning, Kaidan and Ashley, along with the rest of the Normandy marines, were released from their interrogations, but confined to the embassy quarters until the Alliance determined what to do with them. Kaidan was content to lie down on his bunk, the beginnings of a migraine building at the base of his skull. Thankfully, he'd been allowed to have his amp returned, he always felt a little woozy whenever it was removed for long periods. Ashley was nowhere near as calm.
"This is bullshit LT. I'm not sacrificing my career for that bitch!" Ashley wasn't shouting, but her voice was certainly passionate.
"Hey, she's a fellow marine and a superior officer. Besides, she gave your career a real boost, and she saved your life on Eden Prime," Kaidan responded calmly.
"Yeah, just to make it hell! Are you forgetting everything we've been through since then? Aliens on the Normandy, a whole bunch of weird-ass shit that you couldn't make up! I don't know about you, but I'm testifying against her if they ask."
"But what about -"
"Sure, fine, it was nice to be on an actual mission instead of another crap ground assignment. Gives my CV a real boost to serve under an N7, not to mention the first Spectre. But right about where she went all bug-fuck insane and defied orders from everyone is where I'll gladly thrown her under the bus in order not to be tarred with the same brush. My family name is already blacklisted in the Alliance books, I'm not going to give them another reason."
Kaidan sighed, reluctantly agreeing with her. She had enough problems with the Alliance that she didn't need them adding more pressure on her. He'd already made his choice not to testify against Shepard, because even he thought it was just a little too odd, that the colonel was pushing just a little too hard on him specifically. But that would have to wait for a while, at least until Shepard was apprehended. He wondered briefly why they hadn't sent another Spectre after her, and then chided himself mentally. He'd only heard about elements of the turian 7th being sent, they wouldn't tell a lowly officer like him, especially one in such a precarious security concern, whether they had sent another Spectre after Shepard.
He was about to say something else to Ashley when the doors opened and a semi-familiar figure came in. Kaidan wondered where he had seen him before, and then he looked directly into the man's face and recognition dawned.
"Colonel Addams?"
"No time for pleasantries," he said hurriedly, but with a predatory grin on his face that reminded him strangely of Shepard. "We're going to be under attack in about -" he was cut off by the sound of an explosion. "Well, now. Everyone get up and follow me to C-Sec. We need arms and armour if we're going to be useful. Anyone need an amp?" There was a shaking of heads. "Good, saves time then. Alright, everyone follow me." He turned and walked through the door again.
"Wait, what's going on?" Ashley asked.
"No idea!" shouted Gomez happily. The marines had to jog a few paces to catch up with the colonel, who was speeding up. "All I know is that there is a massive geth armada pouring through the relays, which are now locked for some reason. Sooner or later, the fight will come here, and I'd rather be ready for it. Besides, you lot were just doing nothing and being useless boobs, so I decided to make you work for a change."
"Hey, we weren't being lazy, we were in detention!" Ashley said hotly. All of them were jogging now towards C-Sec headquarters on the Presidium.
"Same thing to me!" Gomez shouted back gleefully. They piled through the doors and up to the armoury officer, Gomez flashing his authority and requesting emergency release of arms and armour for them. The asari was hesitant at first, but after another explosion sounded, she hurriedly agreed, opening the armoury doors and admitting them.
Ten minutes later, armed and armoured in C-Sec blues, Gomez lead them back to the embassy offices. He directed them into groups in the offices overlooking the Presidium.
"Keep an eye out for hostiles, aim carefully, and keep each other alive," he said over the comm. channel he set up for them. He burst into Udina's office, the snivelling coward hiding under his desk. Gomez also saw the recently deposed Captain Anderson, gave him a weapon and soon stood shoulder to shoulder with him. Gomez stole a look at the dark-skinned Londoner beside him as they scanned the Presidium, this office having a good view of the relay statue below.
"Anderson, good to meet you. My daughter has nothing but praise." Anderson looked at Gomez, confusion plastered over his face.
"Your daughter?" Anderson asked.
"Oh, sorry, forgot to introduce myself. Colonel Gomez Addams, N7."
"Wait... Addams? As in Wednesday's family?" His eyes flicked to the sword hilt prominently visible at Gomez's hip.
"Certainly!"
"This day just gets worse and worse," Anderson mumbled, pressing the rifle Gomez had given him to his shoulder and hoping against all evidence that he'd live through this.
A wall of orange energy stopped the Mako in its tracks. They had been following the trail of disturbance that Saren had left in his wake, and noticing the regular protrusions from the walls. Liara theorised they might have been stasis pods and the protheans here tried to wait out the Reapers, but ran out of power before they were able to be revived. Not that it made much difference now, as a second energy wall came up behind them, effectively trapping them. There was nothing for a moment, and then a small door opened in one of the walls.
"I smell a trap," Wrex said.
"It can't be Saren," replied Garrus. "This would take too much power, and he wouldn't have had the equipment. But that just begs the question of who is doing it."
"Let's find out," said Wednesday, already moving to the hatch.
The team got out to investigate, Lurch staying behind to guard the Mako since the cannon was no longer functional. The door led to a single sloping elevator, which they all entered gingerly. As it lurched and jerked downwards, they saw a warm orange light flickering in and out as a hologram tried to form. It was obviously heavily damaged, or lacking in power, so couldn't retain anything other than a convulsing sphere.
"You are not Prothean," it stated in a neutral voice. "But you are not machine, either. This eventuality was one of many that was anticipated. This is why we sent our warning through the beacons."
"You mean what's left of them," said Wednesday darkly, subconsciously rubbing her temple. "I've interacted with two of them, and still only have a partial of whatever the 'warning' was meant to be."
"I do not sense the taint of indoctrination upon any of you," the hologram continued. "Unlike the other that passed recently. Perhaps there is still hope."
"It must be talking about Saren," Garrus said. He was already opening a recording function on his omni-tool, hoping he hadn't missed the good parts like on Virmire.
"How can we understand you?" asked Liara. "Why aren't you speaking prothean?"
"I have been monitoring your communications since you arrived at this facility," the hologram explained. "I have translated my output into a format you will comprehend. My name is Vigil. You are safe here, for the moment. But that is likely to change. Soon, nowhere will be safe."
Wednesday picked up on the fact that it used the term 'I' when referring to itself, something no VI would do.
"Are you an AI, Vigil?" she asked.
"I am an advanced non-organic analysis system," Vigil replied, "with personality imprints from Ksad Ishan, chief overseer of the Ilos research facility. Whether that makes me an AI, I cannot say."
"Fair answer I suppose. But why bring us here like this?"
"You must break a cycle that has continued for millions of years," Vigil said. "But to stop it, you must understand or you will make the same mistakes we did."
"Mistakes like what?" asked Liara, whose views of the prothean had certainly taken a beating since joining Wednesday's mission.
"The Citadel is the heart of your civilization and the seat of government," Vigil began. "As it was with us, and as it has been with every civilization that came before us. But the Citadel is a trap. The station is actually an enormous mass relay. One that links to dark space, the empty void beyond the galaxy's horizon. When the Citadel relay is activated, the Reapers will pour through. And all you know will be destroyed."
"Hang on," said Garrus, holding up a hand. "How come nobody ever noticed the Citadel was an inactive mass relay?"
"The Reapers are careful to keep the greatest secrets of the Citadel hidden. That is why they created a species of seemingly benign organic caretakers," Vigil responded.
"The keepers, makes sense," muttered Imness. "Almost impossible to scan them for any sort of data, self-destruct when study is attempted, and do not respond to attempts at communications. Would have required large amounts of genetic and technological engineering."
"The keepers maintain the station's most basic functions," explained Vigil. "They enable any species that discovers the Citadel to use it without fully understanding the technology. Reliance on the keepers ensures no other species will ever discover the Citadel's true nature. Not until the relay is activated and the Reapers invade."
"They do a lot of work behind the scenes, and there are areas only the keepers know about that they won't allow us to access," Garrus said by way of confirmation.
"How do the Reapers survive out in dark space?" Wednesday asked. It always paid to know as much as possible about your enemies.
"We have only theories," Vigil replied. "The researchers here came to believe the Reapers enter prolonged states of inactivity to conserve energy. This allows them to survive the thousands and thousands of years it takes for organic civilization to rebuild itself. But in this state, they are vulnerable. By retreating beyond the edges of the galaxy, they ensure no one will accidentally discover them. They keep their existence hidden until the Citadel relay is activated."
"Smart, an enemy you can't find is one you can't fight until it's too late," mused Wednesday. "And since the Citadel currently houses the Council, it cuts off the head rather effectively."
"That was our fate," Vigil admitted. "Our leaders were dead before we even realized we were under attack. The Reapers seized control of the Citadel and, through it, the mass relays. Communication and transportation across our empire were crippled. Each star system was isolated, cut off from the others. Easy prey for the Reaper fleets. Over the next decades, the Reapers systematically obliterated our people. World by world, system by system, they methodically wiped us out."
"There must have been some survivors," Liara said, a note of pleading in her voice.
"Through the Citadel, the Reapers had access to all our records, maps, census data," Vigil explained. "Information is power, and they knew everything about us. Their fleets advanced across every settled region of the galaxy. Some worlds were utterly destroyed. Others were conquered, their populations enslaved. These indoctrinated servants became sleeper agents under Reaper control. Taken in as refugees by other protheans, they betrayed them to the machines. Within a few centuries, the Reapers had killed or enslaved every prothean in the galaxy. They were relentless, brutal and absolutely thorough."
"Why though?" asked Wednesday, chin in hand. "What do they possibly gain by repeating galactic genocide?"
"The Reapers are alien, unknowable. Perhaps they need slaves or resources," Vigil speculated. "More likely, they are driven by motives and goals organic beings cannot hope to comprehend. In the end, what does it matter? Your survival depends on stopping them, not in understanding them."
"I can assume they left through the Citadel relay once the protheans were gone."
"Yes. Once our worlds were stripped bare of everything of values, all resources and technology. Certain advanced organic life was extinguished, they left, sealing the relay behind them. The remaining indoctrinated slaves were abandoned to die. The genocide of the protheans was complete."
"Alright, but what does any of that have to do with why you brought us here?"
"The Conduit is the key," Vigil said. "Before the Reapers attacked, the protheans were on the cusp of unlocking the mysteries behind mass relay technology. Ilos was a top secret facility. Here, researchers worked to create a small-scale version of a mass relay. One that linked directly to the Citadel: the hub of the relay network.
"So the Conduit's not a weapon," Tali realized. "It's a back door onto the Citadel!"
"How did you manage to stay hidden?" asked Wednesday.
"All official records of our project were destroyed in the initial attack on the Citadel, whether by design or accident I cannot say. While the Empire came crashing down, Ilos was spared. We severed all communication with the outside and our facility went dark. The personnel retreated underground into these archives. To conserve resources, everyone was put into cryogenic stasis. I was programmed to monitor the facility and wake the staff when the danger had passed. But the genocide of an entire species is a long, slow process. Years passed. Decades, centuries. The Reapers persisted. And my energy reserves were dwindling."
"So you began to triage?" Wednesday suspected out loud.
"Yes. I began to disable the life support of non-essential personnel," Vigil admitted. "First support staff, then security. One by one, their pods were shut down to conserve energy. Eventually, only the stasis pods of the top scientists remained active. Even these were in danger of failing when the Reapers finally retreated back through the Citadel relay."
"Cold, but logical," noted Imness.
"The outcome was not unforeseen. I was merely acting out contingencies placed in my programming," Vigil stated simply. Wrex snorted.
"I'll bet they didn't tell the non-essential staff about that particular contingency."
"I saved key personnel," Vigil emphasized. "When the Reapers retreated, the top researchers were still alive. My actions are the only reason any hope remains."
"I'm listening," Wednesday said.
"When the researchers awoke, they realized the prothean species was doomed. There were only a dozen individuals left—far too few to sustain a viable population. Yet they vowed to find some way to stop the Reapers from returning," Vigil continued. "A way to break the cycle forever. And they knew the keepers were the key."
"Keepers under Reaper control though. How are they the key?" asked Imness.
"The keepers are controlled by the Citadel," Vigil corrected me. "Before each invasion, a signal is sent through the station compelling the keepers to activate the Citadel relay. After decades of feverish study, the scientists discovered a way to alter this signal. Using the Conduit, they gained access to the Citadel and made the modifications. This time, when Sovereign sent the signal to the Citadel, the keepers ignored it. The Reapers remained trapped in dark space."
"Very clever," Imness mused.
"So I'm guessing Saren plans to undo this?"
"The one you call Saren passed before, and is thoroughly indoctrinated. He will use the Conduit to bypass the Citadel's defences," Vigil confirmed. "Once inside, he will transfer control of the station to Sovereign. Sovereign will override the Citadel's systems and manually open the relay. And the cycle of extinction will begin again."
"So I stop him before it gets to that. Anything else?" asked Wednesday.
"There is a data file on my console, take it." Wednesday's omni-tool glowed as the data was received. "When you reach the Citadel's master control unit, upload it to the station. It will corrupt the Citadel's security protocols and give you temporary control over the station. It might give you a chance against Sovereign."
"Wait, I've never heard of this 'master control unit' before," said Garrus. "Where is it?"
"Follow Saren, he will lead you to it," Vigil said, his light beginning to fade.
"Wait," said Liara. "What about the beacons, the warnings?"
"The beacons spanned our Empire at its height. When the survivors woke, they dared to send a message, knowing it would probably never get through, so many beacons were destroyed by the Reapers. The warning was coded for organic minds, we were still wary of indoctrination and understood so little about how it worked. We never realised it could lead an agent of the machines like Saren here. But you also came, so maybe there was hope after all."
"I would like to ask more about Sovereign," said Imness. "Why is it here when all the other Reapers are in dark space?"
"It is likely Sovereign was left as a watcher, to evaluate galactic civilisation and determine when the time has come to begin the cycle. It would have signalled the Citadel to activate the keepers. But this time the signal failed. With the Reapers trapped, it was forced to work alone and work out why it had failed and how to fix it."
"And the keepers?"
"Likely one of the first species harvested by the Reapers. Perhaps especially susceptible to indoctrination, or bred for obedience. In any case, they only respond to the Citadel signal, and once it was changed, Sovereign's hold on them broke. Now they are harmless."
"Which is probably why Saren has the geth following him," said Wednesday.
"Likely hypothesis, non-organic servants are more predictable," ventured Imness.
"Alright, we have enough to go on, time to move out," Wednesday said, turning towards the elevator.
"No Shepard, this is an invaluable opportunity!" Liara shouted, steel in her eyes. Wednesday glared at her, and the steel melted, reality coming back. "I mean, the hologram is already fading, who knows if it will still work if anyone returns?"
"Save the galaxy first Liara, satisfy curiosity second," Garrus replied, before they began to enter the elevator.
"Oh, right," Liara said, getting in just before Wednesday. The elevator was just as bad on the way up, but soon enough they were in the Mako, racing through broken bunkers and rivers to the Conduit. They had little time to admire it before the geth started shooting at them. Wednesday stomped on the accelerator, ignoring the rapidly-depleting shields and making hell for leather towards the spinning rings of the miniature mass-relay.
"Everybody, seal suits and strap in!" Wednesday shouted, taking one hand off quickly to seal her suit and check her harness. Ten seconds later, everyone secure and sealed, they came up the ramp. As the Mako came off the end, there was a moment where they were airborne.
Then the Conduit's eezo core sent out a tendril of mass effect energy, reducing the mass of the Mako to zero before flinging it, and its unbelieving crew, halfway across the galaxy, screaming all the way.