And here's the beginning of ME2.
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Chapter Twenty Three
Unknown Location
In the midst of a large and darkened room, a hologram of a figure appeared. All present easily recognized the man depicted. Who could fail to know the face of the last war hero?
"Hello, general," one individual spoke.
"Chairman," Summers nodded.
"You'll be happy to know that our colony representatives are reporting seventy percent readiness for the oncoming threat. However, some have expressed concern for the apparent need to sacrifice their systems as bait."
"The locations of Elysium, Eden Prime, and Shanxi are known to outsiders," the general replied. "Shanxi, more than anything else is the most likely target, but all three would be near the top of the priority list simply because they are there. They are the most exposed territory an enemy has to attack. Rather than try to pointlessly defend the first beachheads, it's better to make them a trap for the enemy."
"That is understandable," another person noted. "but placing a mass relay in-system and blowing it up to destroy the enemy means we lose a planet, and all the time and infrastructure we've invested."
The general shrugged. "War is never without sacrifice. We can always build a new colony."
"A star system as a sacrifice seems a rather excessive one," a third individual retorted.
"And we are up against a race of robotic starships that numbers at least in the tens of thousands. Possibly even millions," Summers bit back evenly. "That's a rather excessive enemy. And will require excessive sacrifices to defeat, no matter how you cut it. We'll be throwing systems and fleets at them to drive them back and buy our people time. But we need to do it intelligently. And making those three systems very juicy bait so we can cause them some form of mass casualties is more intelligent than trying to buttress every colony we have against attack. As I said: people know where those planets are. And knowing is half the battle."
"I would think the enemy would be aware of the risks of reaching for those colonies as well," a female voice pointed out.
The general nodded. "We are taking that into account. I am of the opinion that the recent attacks on Terminus System humans are part of enemy reconnaissance efforts. With the reveal of psionics five years ago, the enemy would want to look for any examples of them to study. And seeing how we're the only visible race with these abilities, we're the natural choice. Factoring against that is the likelihood of us letting psionic individuals leave our territory, but there is still the outside chance they might find someone with potential that we missed. Against that possibility, Director Harper currently has undercover field agents scouring the Terminus Systems. I imagine they have orders to capture or eliminate any people they find. Regrettable, but necessary."
"General," a fifth member added their voice to the mix. "while we all understand the necessity of the actions you recommended, I must point out how much of a strain it has been on our economy and resources to carry them out. Our people can only do so much with what we have, and history has taught us that what follows in the wake of war is economic chaos."
"You have to be alive to deal with that chaos."
"Yes, but we also want to minimize it if at all possible. We don't know when this threat will arrive, nor do we know the full scope of it. I think it would be wise to ally with the Citadel races against the Reapers."
"I disagree," the head of Alliance Intelligence interjected. "The Citadel is, compared to us, technologically inferior by about three decades. If we took them as allies, we would have to bring them up to parity, wasting valuable time and resources. Not to mention the fact that our cultural relations with them are just short of hostile and by no means friendly. That would make significant cooperation very difficult."
"I'm not saying that we bring them up to our level. When this threat arrives, we will all have a mutual enemy. And while they don't have the same quality of technology, they have quantity of people. If I recall correctly, their combined races outnumber us about 9:1. A temporary alliance would boost our numbers ten times over."
"It would also vastly increase the amount of territory we would have to help defend," Summers countered. "Our forces and methods are tailored specifically to our own situation and territory, not theirs."
"This is an issue to be discussed at length," the chairman broke in. "We can discuss its merits and drawbacks at a later date. Right now, this was meant to be a quick update on the civil situation and the pending military preparations."
"Well on the military side, we've moved the AITC to a new location, and we're currently evaluating our first penal battalions. Pending approval, we'll start making them in force and assign them to the three colonies along with older hardware."
"Are you confident that they will fight?" the second voice asked. "Considering their status as condemned criminals, they might not be so inclined to help."
"We offered each one of them a pistol with one round. Everyone defiant enough to stick it to us already took the easy way out. The ones who were left were told that if they survived their time, they would have their records expunged and they could start fresh."
"I assume that there's a low possibility of keeping that promise," the fifth voice noted sardonically.
The general shrugged. "It's not like we'll just dump them on Elysium and leave them there. If they put up a good fight or the Reapers don't send a large force, we'll have an assault group on standby waiting to rescue them. There's a low possibility, but still a possibility nonetheless."
"And suppose those criminals go back to their ways once returned?"
"Their basic training is much more…heavy-handed than normal in order to break them of their tendencies," Summers replied. "We want to make sure they're a coherent and sufficiently disciplined force to offer decent resistance, and that means instilling respect for the chain of command. The penal officers are drawn from the same pool. They just happened to previously have been work crew leaders in the camps, promoted for good behavior and getting results. Since the recruits are used to working under them and the officers are in the same boat, there should be minimal problems getting them to work as a unit. And we do have plenty of experience helping veterans ease back into society. All else fails, we still have the option to reinstate their sentence, or give them a more abbreviated one."
"I see you've given this considerable thought."
"More like we're making them an offer they can't refuse. They want to live more than they want to escape us, and we explained our wartime prisoner policy to them. Either certain death at our hands, or the possibility of death at the hands of the Reapers. Naturally, the latter comes with the possibility of life."
Yet another individual spoke up. "I've heard rumors of a proposal to recall old veterans back to service. What do you have to say on that?"
"With our MEC Soldier augmentations, we no longer need to create huge cybernetic suits for our people. Now we can create smaller combat prosthetics that give our troops biotic abilities similar to what the Citadel races have. Returning veterans and disabled individuals now have a way to contribute on the field. With the advances we've made thanks to Meld and Ethereal bioscience, post-surgical recovery takes only a few days, and training can begin immediately afterward. Our test cases went from near paraplegic status to combat ready with biotic training in approximately two months."
"Quite a promising development," the woman noted. "I look forward to seeing if it can deliver."
"Finally, you were all briefed on Captain Erin Shepard's mission into the Terminus Systems to look over the independent colonies, right?"
The Normandy, Bridge
"Just like old times, eh commander?" Garrus commented.
"That's captain to you," Shepard corrected him as she examined the map. "and it's not quite like that when we're missing an asari, a quarian and a krogan."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Plus we aren't chasing an insane turian traitor this time around."
Shepard looked over with a slight smirk. "I wouldn't rule that out yet," she said playfully.
Garrus felt a chill run down his neck as the woman turned her attention back to the map. Does she know? Does the Alliance know about it?
Shepard eyed the arrangement of colonies before making her decision. "Alright Joker, let's hit up Nova Bastion."
"Aye aye, ma'am!"
The Normandy, Executive Office
Commander Pressly grumbled as he wrote up the latest findings, or lack thereof. One downside to being promoted up the ladder was the increase of paperwork and deskwork he had to deal with. Not for the first time, he wished he had someone he could push part of this onto. Why the blazes couldn't the Sensor Officer write up the damned report? He was the one looking at the instruments.
Two weeks into their tour of the Terminus Systems had earned them little in the way of intelligence. Of the two colonies and four "outposts" visited, all showed signs of initial armed resistance to whatever had attacked, but there was no trace of any of the humans who lived there. No blood or bodies. And no alien traces either. Pirates were normally far too undisciplined to police themselves after combat, and from what Cerberus reported, no major criminal organization appeared to be involved in these attacks.
Pressly leaned back after hitting "send," rubbing his face. Then he pushed off his chair and walked over to the Mess Hall where he sat down with the captain and the Spectre.
"A whole lot of nothing," he grumbled into his coffee. "I get why Admiral Hackett thinks it's something to do with the Reapers, but we don't have a clue how they might be doing this. A giant mechanical squid is hard to miss and should leave something behind after an attack."
"Maybe the Reapers have a third party doing the work," Garrus pointed out as he examined something on his omnitool. "Sovereign didn't seem to mind getting the geth to pitch in when Saren was heading things up."
"You think the geth would clean up after themselves like this?" Shepard asked skeptically. "I know I wouldn't. If you have to go loud on a mission, you're going to leave so many traces that there's no point in policing the scene afterward."
"Yeah well on the other hand, you think a two-kilometer alien dreadnought would do it either? It's a little hard to have this kind of finesse when your 'fingertips' are the size of a car. From what we know, the geth are the only available option, even if they don't fit."
"Nobody's seen them since the attack on the Citadel," Pressly mused. "They haven't even gone after the Quarians. I wonder what they're doing now."
"That one super-geth seemed to think that Sovereign was unbeatable," Shepard recalled. "Maybe after we beat it, they reconsidered their chances of taking on the galaxy."
"That's what Tali thought when I ran into her last year," Garrus told them.
"Been keeping tabs on our favorite quarian girl, Vakarian?" Shepard gave the turian a knowing smirk.
"H-hey! Not like that!" Garrus sputtered. "I just said I ran into her, and besides, she's a little young for me!"
"I don't know. You two seemed pretty close after she patched you up twice from your flying lessons with the geth."
"Great," Garrus groaned. "First my dad, now it's you. Give me a break already."
Commander Pressly, ever the professional, recentered the discussion on the mission at hand. "We'll have to find some indications sooner or later," he muttered. "They can't do it right every time."
"Yeah, everyone runs out of luck at some point," Shepard acknowledged.
As the Normandy exited the wormhole into another star system, alien sensors registered its presence. A large craft, hidden in an asteroid field, sat still as its crew watched and waited for the trap to be sprung. Finally, when the Alliance prowler reached the Closest Point of Approach, the alien ship sent a signal to a colossal device that had been concealed under a cloak. That device began to power up.
Garrus scanned another dossier he'd long since memorized, contemplating his next action. Should I tell her about them? The Alliance definitely would want to take these guys out. But it is a top secret military program…hell with it. They never should have done it in the first place. Besides, I'm sure the Salarians got whatever data they need.
"Hey Shepard," the red-head looked up. "I got something you guys-"
Everyone was thrown to the deck as the Normandy lurched suddenly. "Enemy contact!" Joker's voice called over the intercom. "Huge unknown Element Zero signature! Brace for combat maneuvers!"
The alien device reached operational status and began to emit a far-reaching chaotic wave of Dark Energy that fluctuated at random intervals. At the same time, the alien ship activated its engines and screamed toward the Normandy while its particle beam cannon began to heat up.
Pressly picked himself up and sprinted to the bridge, surprisingly beating out both the captain and the Spectre. The trio arrived just in time to hear another crew member shout out a warning. "Second enemy contact! Cruiser-type! High energy build-up in the bow!"
"Engaging the drive!"
And that was when everything went wrong. The wormhole drive attempted to open a hole in space-time and succeeded…for an instant too small to be useable. The pulsing waves of Dark Energy spiked at that particular moment, effectively slamming it shut before the Prowler could move through it. Meanwhile, the alien cruiser's capacitor banks discharged into the accelerators as the ballast tanks injected extremely high-pressure gases into the cannon. The stream of particulate matter invisibly tore through the inter-stellar medium and began colliding with the Normandy's right nacelle.
Within a microsecond, the stream sliced through it, aided by the momentum of the cruiser itself. Before it sheared off however, the beam struck a particularly sold part of the ship's frame and partially deflected off it, skimming the bridge section and rocking the ship.
Pressly's last sight was of the bridge rail shooting into his face as his arms failed to prevent his forward motion. "Commander!" a female first lieutenant yelled as she scrambled from her station to reach the man.
Shepard steadied herself and hauled Garrus to he feet before opening her mouth to demand a status report. That demand died on her lips as she eyeballed the bridge computer's ship display. She closed it for a moment, and then made her decision. "Escape pods, now!"
Somehow, over the chaos, another crewmember heard her, and slapped the evacuation alarm. "That way!" she pointed while shoving Garrus in that direction. "Go!"
Without waiting to see if he was obeying, She hauled her executive officer onto her shoulders and sprinted to the cockpit. "Joker! Time to leave!"
"Just…a bit…more…" Joker strained as he desperately attempted to maneuver the ship clear of both enemy fire and the strange energy field interfering with the ship's drive.
"Joker!" Shepard yelled.
"Damn it ma'am, I'm trying to get us away from that ship so we can safely eject the pods!" he snapped. "We're clear! Jumping!"
The Normandy managed to make it to a point where the alien device's field of effect tapered off and promptly vanished to reappear inside the former outpost's atmosphere. The sudden shock applied to the ship as it abruptly encountered material resistance to its momentum finished what the alien cruiser's particle beam had started, irreparably damaging the ship's control surfaces and propulsion systems. Slowly, the atmosphere arrested its velocity and the ship began a long and uncontrolled dive toward the surface.
If the alien ship commander had possessed the independence of mind to curse, it would have as it lost track of the Normandy. The same planetary atmosphere that obliterated the ship's chances of surviving also served to shield it's presence from sensors.
Joker toggled the hyperwave distress signal, then swore and slammed his fist on the console. "Fuck! The signal isn't active!"
"I'll handle it," Shepard ordered as she stowed her unconscious XO in the cockpit escape pod. "You strap yourself in and get out of here!"
Once again, without waiting for an answer, she turned tail and raced toward the rear of the ship. As she ran, she noted with satisfaction that the escape pods were all being safely ejected. Then, she saw the hyperwave device and reached for the manual activation lever just as the ship's elerium core activated its safety protocols and annihilated itself with antimatter.
While the core's shielding prevented the gamma ray emissions from killing her, the ship seemed to jolt toward her just as she grasped the lever and pulled down. Her head, even protected with an exosuit helmet, smashed into the wall hard enough to both knock her out and embed herself in said wall. The explosion also had the effect of briefly accelerating the ship's wreckage downward toward the ground. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she instinctively wrapped herself in a protective purple embrace.
The news of the destruction of the Alliance prowler Normandy by unknown alien forces sends shockwaves throughout the galaxy. The Citadel braces itself in anticipation of the inevitable Alliance retaliation.
Captain Shepard's body is recovered from the crashed wreckage following the arrival of Fifth Fleet search and rescue forces. Amazingly, she is still alive, but comatose in a similar way to General Summers following the Temple Ship's destruction.
Upon Spectre Vakarian's debrief, the STG sends its most capable operatives and analysts to the system hoping to discover how the unknowns countered the Alliance's vaunted Wormhole Drive.
Miranda Lawson cast one final apprehensive look at the unresponsive woman on the table. After six months of time during which they had collaborated their efforts to ease her out of this state and give her the next generation of Jaeger augmentations, it was time for the final phase.
She wasn't too keen on her part in this as both technician and security. While yes, she was theoretically just as combat capable as the unconscious commando, she wasn't nearly as practiced in hand-to-hand. This would be, she ruefully admitted, a true test of her perfection.
"Ma'am," a technician called. "we're all set."
"Start stimulation."
Mechanical armatures hovered over the woman as they began remotely administering low-level deep-penetrating electrical currents. Shepard began to twitch on the table as the computer-controlled pulses stimulated her brain. Her eyelids opened partway, revealing her eyes to be rolled up.
"Neural response rising," a female technician announced. "Approaching conscious levels."
"Apply restraints," Miranda ordered.
The room filled with a blue tint as the emitter above the table applied an invisible force wave on the woman. Unfortunately, the commando's rising consciousness did not take this very well.
"Psionic activity detected!" the second technician yelled as Shepard's body began to glow purple.
Of course it's too much to expect this to be simple, Miranda groaned internally as she prepared her own psionics.
"Rising feedback on the restraints!" another man warned as Shepard's purple aura inexorably rose toward the emitter above. Her eyes now stared straight upward, but were strangely unfocused.
"Internal damage! Restraint failure!"
"Shut it off!" Miranda hollered as Shepard lunged off the table. "Shepard, it's me! Miranda!" she screamed as she parried a flurry of blows that would have killed any weaker human. "Wake up! You're safe! Stop it Erin!"
Shepard's eyes snapped into focus at the sound of her name. She stopped, slowly blinking away the residual nightmare she'd been trapped in and noticed the other woman desperately leaning back, keeping her neck away from her hand. "…where…I was…"
The psionic power that had allowed her to fight dissipated, along with the strength in her long-unused muscles. Miranda awkwardly caught her as she fell against the other woman, her consciousness fading away into a normal sleep.
Through an observation window, General Summers turned to Doctor Vahlen with a slight smile. "Please tell me I wasn't that pathetic when I woke up."
Codex: Psionics (Reveal)
Within the Alliance, the reveal of Psionics changed very little of people's daily lives. A well-crafted public relations campaign by the Alliance government assuages any initial fears of psionic individuals, particularly with the revelation that General Summers and many others serving the Alliance possess them, and that the Alliance has been aware of them for decades.
The one major exception is crime rates. Militia members, who serve as law enforcement for their respective colonies, have by association received a reputation of being all-knowing and impossible to evade. As a result of this, the product of the Alliance policy of Criminal Management and the reveal of Psionics, crime rates across the Alliance have dropped to lows never before seen in history.
On the Citadel, the human C-Sec officers who didn't resign and retreat back to the Alliance enjoy a similarly intimidating image. Many are the gullible low-lifes who quickly buckle when a turian or asari officer brings along a human partner to "sweat" them.
During the establishment of the Alliance Embassy Garrison, Executor Pallin and Major Bailey created an agreement of support where C-Sec would request aid in the event of serious trouble. Somewhat to the major's annoyance, this support is frequently requested for extra security and intimidation, not the least because of the few psionic marines present in the garrison.
Codex: Criminal Management
Like most civilizations, the Alliance deals quite harshly with crime. However, the Alliance has grudgingly recognized that completely eliminating crime is both impossible and undesirable. In recognition of this fact, the Alliance settles for managing crime.
Certain militia officers "run" criminal enterprises under the blessing of Alliance Intelligence. The purpose is to ensure that only "approved" criminals go big. The most successful black market dealers, forgers and thieves are either informants or undercover Intelligence personnel. Freelancers cannot assure the same quality of service, as they do not have the same resources the government does, and are often bypassed. Those who still acquire customers are quickly sniffed out and dealt with. This policy can be best described as "baiting and trapping."
Informants are small-timers who, in exchange for relative immunity (barring the occasional incarceration and movement to another area), pass along information on newcomers and underground rumors of various crimes. They are also advised of the zero-tolerance policy during wartime, as the Alliance is not inclined to waste time and resources on crime at that point. Some informants are, unknown to their militia handlers, Alliance Intelligence, who serve to double-check the militia members themselves for corruption. This Byzantine arrangement ensures that criminal "managers" stay on the straight and narrow.
This policy has reduced crime substantially from the days before the Ethereal War. It also serves to give the public a cover excuse for having law enforcement. With no crime, there would be no reason to have it.
No Lazarus Project. No "we can rebuild her." She's a psionic supersoldier, and there is precedent.
What was Garrus about to tell her? What did he mean when he asked if she or the Alliance knew?
And so someone (and we know who) figures out how to counter one of the Alliance's greatest advantages.
I'm almost done outlining how the rest of the story will go. I would also like to reiterate my warning that there will be substantial character death. For one character in particular, I expect roughly half of you will hate my guts for killing them off.
But I'm an evil motherfucker, so I revel in that.
Edit: I forgot to italicize General Summer's dialogue since he was holoconferencing.