Chapter 25: What We've Created
To most, the planet outside the large view port was remarkable only for the fact that it was capable of supporting organic life. Among the billions of stars in the galaxy only a precious few had the perfect mix of temperature, rotation, and countless other variables that would make it habitable for the majority of sapient species. A few more erudite individuals might note the beauty of contrast in the deep blue oceans and rivers edged in green, each divided by great expanses of reddish desert.
The quarian people were not the galactic majority, however. What they saw below was nothing less than a dream that had seemed increasingly remote after three centuries of exile. The Rayya's observation hall was crammed to capacity and beyond, but the room was silent. Every set of glowing eyes was transfixed by the planet below as if worried that a simple blink would render it a cruel trick.
Tali understood the feeling. It was the same one that had been with her since she had set foot on the planet, one of the first of her people to do so since the Morning War. The only time she had been able to push the sense of awe and trepidation aside had been in the heat of battle. Adrenaline and gunfire did wonders to prevent the mind from dwelling on anything other than survival.
"I was expecting more cheering and drinking. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were all sad!" a voice whispered just behind her and the quarian barely suppressed a yelp when she felt a sharp poke at her side.
She turned to the thief that had appeared behind her with a glare, keeping her voice low.
"Bosh'tet, you almost make me yelp in front of the entire ship... and we are happy. It's just hard to express. I've actually been there and I still can't believe it."
"Not just the ship," Kasumi pointed out with a nod at the cameras hovering overhead. "I'd guess that every ship in the Flotilla is watching this."
"That makes it so much better," Tali replied dryly and then sniffed loudly.
Kasumi grinned wickedly behind the breather mask that covered her face.
"Sounds like you've might have caught a little cold down there on Rannoch."
The quarian felt her cheeks flush, both from the heads that turned back towards her at the sound of the sniff and from her friend's teasing.
"It's nothing."
"What's nothing?"
Her head snapped in the opposite direction at the sound of Shepard's voice. She tried to wave away his question but a sneeze was trying to creep up on her and it was all Tali could do to contain it. The delay gave Kasumi plenty of time to formulate her own reply.
"Oh, I was just asking Tali if she'd caught a cold," the thief said with false concern.
"Keelah! You're worse than Garrus," Tali complained. "And he's had years to practice annoying me."
Kasumi slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
"That's what friends are for, Fishbowl. Just savor the moment and take your teasing; I'm sure it was worth it."
"I hope it was," Shepard added warmly, reaching down to give her hand a quick, covert squeeze. "I'd like to think it made all the hell we've been through so far worth it."
She turned her head in his direction, cheeks warm again. Tali didn't know if she'd ever work up the courage to tell Shepard that the moment they'd shared as Rannoch's sun had disappeared behind the mountains had been nothing short of the fulfillment of a dozen embarrassing flights of fancy the quarian had indulged in aboard the original Normandy. Instead she just smiled behind her mask.
"Sweet talker."
"I bet you say that to every guy that gets you a homeworld," he quipped.
"Just the cute ones."
Kasumi's faint giggle earned her another glare from the quarian, but she quickly forgot her ire when movement at the front of the crowd caught her attention. Zaal'Koris and Shala'Raan had stepped onto the improvised dais that was being used. The observation room had long been one of the most popular venues aboard the massive liveship for as long as she could remember and with the striking view of the planet below it seemed the perfect location for the official acknowledgement of their victory. In her opinion, Shepard should have been up there with the two admirals, but he had insisted on hanging back instead, joining the rest of the crew in standing at the top of the steps leading down to the main floor of the observation deck.
"My fellow quarians," Zaal'Koris began, gesturing to the crowd. "Today is a historic day. A day that will be remembered by our people for as long as we still travel the stars."
Some of the pent up emotions of the gathered quarians escaped in scattered cheers at the admiral's words. Dozens of bodies shifted and moved with barely contained energy. Koris paced slowly back and forth along the dais, holding up his hands for silence before stepping back so Shala'Raan could take his place.
"It is also a day of remembrance. We thank the Ancestors to have guided us to this moment and mourn those who have fallen. Brave soldiers and citizens that gave all. When we left the embrace of our home they died to protect those who would escape. While we wandered the stars they gave their all so that we could go on. And when we finally returned to the cradle of our birth, others shed their blood to seal our victory."
Like so many others, Tali felt her head dip involuntary as memories flashed before her eyes. Every quarian had lost loved ones. Accidents, piracy, disease... life aboard the Migrant Fleet was far from perfect. But more blood had passed through her fingers than most. Her mother. Her team on Haestrom. Her father. Despite the elation of her people's return home, Rannoch's legacy would always be one stained with blood.
She felt a hand rest on her shoulder gently, the simple gesture of comfort joining the arm that Kasumi had kept around her. Neither said anything, but their silent support was also a powerful reminder that it wasn't just quarian blood that had given her people this chance. Kaidan. Mordin. Thane. Legion. Each had given their lives for a greater cause.
"We will honor their sacrifice," Raan continued. "And we will never repeat the mistakes of the past. I have already heard many asking in the hours since hostilities ceased what would come next... the answer is our future."
A door hissed open and a surprised murmur rippled through the crowd as nearly nine feet of armored geth entered the room. The prime unit's heavy steps echoed loudly as it crossed the space to the dais and stepped onto it, turning to face the crowd.
"This unit... I have been designated Prime Speaker of the Geth Consensus. In the final moments of the conflict over this world the geth platform known as Legion willingly terminated its own unique runtime to provide our people with the ability to become more than our programming. Its sacrifice has taught the geth much of organics and to honor its runtime we have extended an offer of peace to the Creators."
The murmur grew louder until Zaal'Koris stepped forward once more.
"The geth have done more than offered to make peace. They have agreed to not just allow us to return to Rannoch, but to assist us in re-establishing our home. After the destruction of the Morning War, geth hands repaired the damage to our planet for three hundred years. Now geth hands will join with quarian hands to help build a future for both our people."
"We're supposed to trust them?"
Every head turned and searched the crowd but no one stepped forward to admit to the outburst.
"Yes, we are supposed to trust them because they must also trust us," Koris replied to the objection. "For three centuries we have feared the geth. We have hated the geth."
Shala'Raan nodded in agreement.
"We do not stand before you with promises of ease and plenty. There will be work, there will be problems, and there is still a war on our horizon. The Reapers thought to destroy us both with our war. If we truly wish to reclaim Rannoch as our home again it must be won by defeating the Reapers! If we do not... then all we have done is return to our home to dig our own graves!"
"The geth stand with the Creators against the Old Machines. We will fight for our future," Prime stated loudly.
"Now I ask of you all: are you willing to fight for your future?" Koris yelled.
A few scattered cries rose up and the rumbling of the crowd increased. The pair of admirals on the dais scanned the room and Tali held her breath. Telling the entire fleet of such a world altering change had been a risk, but the truth was they didn't have the time for a gentle transition. She could hear the whispers and comments, some in agreement, many dissenting. Questions of whether the admirals had gone crazy. Concerns that the geth were merely plotting to kill them all.
"I'm willing to fight!"
The words had left her mouth before she even realized she had voiced them aloud. A hundred silvery eyes turned back in her direction. To her surprise Shepard didn't remove his hand from her shoulder, though Kasumi did step away slightly so that it didn't appear that Tali was leaning on her. The young quarian's mouth was suddenly dry, but she forced herself to speak.
"I knew the geth called Legion. It... showed me that the geth are more than the monsters that I have feared since I was a child. I have seen the Reapers and what they will do to our people. And I will fight until my last breath to stop them."
"As will I," a gravelly voice added from across the room.
With every word the volume in the room had increased. The figure that pushed pass the gathered quarians was none other than Han'Gerrel. His environment suit was stained, with blood or grease was impossible to tell, but he moved with purpose to the dais. He looked out at the assembled people and shook his head.
"Twelve hours ago I nearly doomed our people because of my rage!" the elder quarian yelled. "I believed any price was worth vengeance... I was wrong."
As thankful as she was for Gerrel attracting the crowd's attention to himself, Tali was surprised by his change of heart. For the first time since she had reluctantly taken the title of admiral he sounded like the man that she had called 'uncle' as a child.
"The events of the Morning War are our history. It is a painful one, but it is just that... history. Our ancestors paid with their lives for their mistakes. And our children have paid every day since... but revenge will not bring them back. I have spent the last day assisting with the rescue operations for ships that were damaged in our attack. I have had good men and women die in my arms. And I have seen far more blood than any quarian should in my life."
Gerrel shook his head.
"But I will not allow the quarian blood that was spilled to be in vain! I will not stand by when we have finally set foot on Rannoch again only to cede it to the Reapers! We are not the vagabonds and cast offs of the galaxy! We are not the thieves and pickpockets the other races would label us! The geth call us Creators because that is what we are! We are quarians and we have not surrendered to our fate in three hundred years! Will we start now because of our fears?"
Boots thumped on the deckplating and yells of denial rang out.
"Then I will repeat Admiral Koris' question! Will you fight for your future?!"
Tali thought the resounding roar that came a moment later must have been heard by the Ancestors themselves.
It had almost been a year to the day since Kasumi Goto had joined the crew of the Normandy. Back then she had taken the job for a simple reason: Cerberus was the only organization that could provide her with the location of Keiji's graybox. The money had certainly been nice, but the truth was her career as a thief had left her with money enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life if she'd so desired.
Instead she had promised herself that she wouldn't let Keiji's sacrifice be in vain and she had accomplished that goal with Shepard's help. After that, the thief had convinced herself that she had owed the man a debt for his assistance that went beyond Cerberus' cooperation. Eventually, Kasumi had admitted that she had found herself attached to the friends that she had made aboard the warship.
As the odd anniversary of her time aboard the ship approached, though, she couldn't help but find herself retreading old doubts... and new ones that had raised their head. Her fingertips brushed across her stomach where a new scar hid beneath the fabric of her suit.
"I didn't expect to find you here," a flanged voice said behind her.
Kasumi actually jumped at the interruption, a testament to both her own distraction and to Garrus's ability to move quietly despite his size. The turian was leaning against the bulkhead nearby, his visor a blue glow in the dim lighting of the observation deck. The ceremony was long over and the quarians had retired to other locations on the massive vessel for what could only be described as an epic celebration. They had finally come home.
"Just because my room had the bar in it doesn't mean I'm that much of a party girl," she countered quietly and then gestured to her face. "Even if they did let us take the masks off."
"Generous of them, but they've got a whole planet now. I guess a few germs on their ship wasn't as big of a concern. Besides, I'm sure they finally realized that keeping this face covered up for so long was a crime."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of the thief's lips despite herself.
"There have been worse crimes."
"That was weak even for you," Garrus said dryly, and pushed off the bulkhead to walk closer. "I expect my sparring partners to be sharper than that."
He took a place beside her and turned to look out at the planet below. With only minimal shipboard illumination and the light reflecting off the planet below, it was a rather serene image even with the dozens of warships hanging over the planet like silvery spears against the darkness of space.
"I'm sure Tali can fill in for me."
The turian chuckled.
"Not likely. After an hour of every quarian in the fleet trying to talk to her I saw Shepard pull his patented 'save the damsel' maneuver. Ironic that it was other quarians he had to save her from and not geth. I'd bet a year's worth of my old C-Sec salary that they're back on the Normandy by now."
Kasumi glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. In profile against the window's glow it showed all the angles and lines of his inhuman face. It reminded her of the first time that she had seen a turian at the Osaka spaceport. Barely eighteen, she had nearly yelped in surprise and not a little bit of fear. In the years that followed the thief had always found turian faces disturbingly similar and hard to read. But now she knew that she could have picked Garrus' face out of a crowd of thousands.
Far from being something that inspired fear or shock, the turian's visage was a familiar sight now. She knew that he secretly worried about the scars that marred the right side of his face even as he joked about them, but they didn't bother her. Quite the opposite, in fact. Kasumi wasn't sure exactly when it had started, maybe back in the gunnery bay after Shepard's apparent death, but she sometimes found herself resisting the urge to reach out to touch them as if to tell him he was wrong whenever Garrus made yet another self-deprecating remark.
"You going to tell me what's bothering you?" he asked, interrupting her reverie.
"Nothing," she lied. "I'm just disappointed I wasn't there to help Tali."
"Pretty sure we had this conversation before, but you do remember that I was a detective, right? I was trained to spot lies, especially bad ones."
The thief frowned and let the comment pass without immediate retort. For his part Garrus simply maintained his stance, looking out at the planet. She could just hear his slow, steady breaths over the hum of the Rayya's engines. For a brief moment Kasumi was back on the Citadel, dull pain radiating from her stomach and a growing chill nipping at her extremities. She remembered the warmth of a taloned hand gripping hers tightly before she had finally surrendered to unconsciousness.
"I'm not like the rest of you," she blurted suddenly.
Garrus shifted in her direction and raised a plated brow. Despite her expectations he didn't immediately respond with a quip or remark about the differences between humans and turians. Instead he drew out a single question with surprising gravity.
"Why not?"
She was nonplussed for a moment before regaining her composure.
"Because... I'm not. I'm a thief, not a soldier. I told Shepard the same thing and he understood, but I've stuck with it. The killing doesn't even really bother me anymore. At least not as much as it did. I mean, there are still the nightmares. Husks and Reapers, dead bodies."
"None of us was born doing what we do. Well, maybe Grunt... but he doesn't count."
Another small smile struggled to the surface for a moment before disappearing as Kasumi shook her head.
"I know that. Like I said, I've gotten used to it. But on the Citadel... all this time I've felt like if I was fast enough nothing would ever touch me. Then in an instant everything changed. At first I just shook it off; I figured I'd be fine. No big deal, right? You guys get shot and beat up all the time. But it wasn't like that... I wasn't patched up and back on my feet in no time. When you sat with me I... I think I'd actually accepted that I was going to die."
She swallowed, finding her throat tight. Death was always a threat even as a thief; poor Keiji's fate had proven that. There was something different about the Normandy, though, as if they all were charmed in some way. It was only now that she was beginning to see that luck could only last for so long.
"As silly as it sounds I was afraid for the first time," the thief continued with her hands balled into fists at her side, unable to look at Garrus. "All the stupid stuff we've done and that was the only time I was really afraid. I should have been eager to get back into action once I'd healed, but when Chakwas told me I wasn't cleared for the Rannoch mission... I was actually relieved."
Kasumi stiffened when she felt a three fingered hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. When he spoke Garrus' voice was completely serious.
"You're not a soldier, but do you really think soldiers don't have the same thoughts? We've all been afraid at one time or another. The longer we survive the more jaded we get, but for most of us that fear is always there in the back of our minds. Just a few ever escape that whisper."
"Must be nice for them," she muttered, relaxing under the rhythmic flexing of the turian's grip.
"No, it's not," Garrus answered immediately. "The only time you lose that fear is when you've got nothing left to live for. When you don't have anything left to hold onto... then you've got no reason to fear death. Death just becomes another part of your life."
This time she did look at him. His mandibles were drawn inward against the side of his face, mirroring the tightness in his voice as he spoke. All of those little cues she had begun to learn, the faint squint of his eyes and the way the plates around his mouth became an almost straight line.
"Is that how you felt after Utukku?"
He shook his head.
"No, I still had... something worth living for then. But the first time after we lost Shepard and I ended up on Omega things got bad. Very bad. You sink into that darkness and you feel like you can never claw your way out," Garrus said and seemed to shake himself. "That's not the point, though. The point is that being afraid doesn't make you different than us... it makes you just like the rest of us."
"How do you live with it?" the thief asked.
"You accept it for what it is. We're all afraid to die because we're not finished yet. I think that in a way most people never quite appreciate life in the same way that we do. When you've come that close to dying it's hard not to look at life a little differently. You appreciate it a little more."
She dipped her head with a sigh and turned towards the turian.
"Maybe so, but it's also made me think about things. This isn't the mission to stop the Collectors. We're fighting a war. We don't need to steal from the Reapers... we're not hacking servers or infiltrating their bases. We need to kill them. So why am I here?"
Garrus's hand stilled on her shoulder and his mandibles flexed slightly.
"You're part of this crew. What more reason do you need?"
"The Normandy is the closest thing to family I have, but is that reason enough for me to stay? Shouldn't someone, a real soldier, be in my place?"
"What do you want me to say, Kasumi?"
The question was oddly plaintive coming from the turian that towered over her by a good thirty centimeters. She cocked her head at him, searching the plates of his face for an answer to the question she couldn't quite voice.
"I guess I'm just looking for a reason that isn't... because I'm afraid to leave. That isn't selfish... I've only thought about myself for years but maybe Tali has been rubbing off on me."
"What if someone asked you to stay?"
She smiled tiredly, "Shepard has already made it clear that he won't stop me if I want to leave. He's too nice for his own good sometimes I think."
"To hell with Shepard. I was talking about me," the turian growled, both hands suddenly on her shoulders.
Kasumi blinked up at him and felt her breath quicken at the sight of icy blue eyes fixed on her. It only lasted a moment but there was such intensity to the gaze, it sent a shiver down her spine and reminded her acutely of turians' predatory ancestry. Finally she found her voice.
"You want me to stay?"
"I... of course..." he replied, demeanor changing as his gaze faltered and his voice became quiet, "Back on Palaven I have a father and a sister that I barely speak to. Since I set foot on the Normandy three years ago... Shepard became the brother I never had. Tali might be even more annoying than my actual sister sometimes... but she might as well be."
She swallowed heavily.
"What does that make me?"
"I... don't know," the turian answered. "All I know is that if anyone else walked into that battery after what happened on Utukku I would have thrown them out. I've never been good at trusting people... but I trust you."
"You trust the thief?" she asked impulsively.
"With my life."
The look of earnestness on his face was an expression that she had never seen before, a brief moment of openness from the usually guarded turian. His words were completely sincere and answered any doubts she might have had about being needed. A thought shot like lightning through her nerves in that moment. It was stupid. It was impulsive. But she didn't take time to think about it.
Instead Kasumi simply pushed herself up on the tips of her toes, grasped the turian's collar... and pressed her lips against Garrus's mouth. A dozen things all registered at once. The odd combination of roughness and pliability that made up his lip plates. The heat that radiated off his skin. A scent like leather with a faint metallic tang. A sudden intake of breath. The feeling of his body tensing at the contact and his talons tightening on her shoulders.
It lasted only a moment before she pulled away, mind catching up with body. The turian looked completely nonplussed, his mandibles flexing and mouth open. Instantly her skin flushed and she began to panic.
"Sorry... I just... bye!"
She agilely slipped from Garrus's grip and activated her stealth net, disappearing from sight. A moment later there was only a single, very surprised turian standing alone in the room.
The three dimensional map spun lazily on the display. Dozens of inhabited worlds were highlighted: colonies, outposts, and mining facilities all in various colors. Disturbingly few glowed with the pale blue that indicated that they were currently 'safe'. The map was a sea of pulsing red lights. Every flashing light was a world under siege.
The faces arrayed around the war room, both holographic and physical, would have been cause for a media frenzy even a year ago. Along with Hackett, Wrex, and the other existing members of their ad-hoc alliance they had been joined by both Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris to represent the quarian people. Most surprising of all was the towering form of the geth platform standing motionless on the opposite side of the holo-projector.
"I believe the image you're seeing speaks for itself," Hackett said quietly. "We're still fighting... but we're not winning."
"Salarian space is still relatively untouched and while the Asari Republic's core worlds remain secure their outer colonies have fallen," Primarch Victus added, motioning towards the map. "The asari did an impressive job of evacuating their colonists and supplies ahead of the Reaper invasion but they're quickly running out of places to fall back to."
Valern's holographic image leaned forward.
"Why have the Reapers left Tuchanka untouched? With a significant portion of their forces located in the Systems Alliance territory it would appear that the krogan homeworld is a readily available target."
"Because Tuchanka is too much fight for them," Wrex boasted.
"Do you really believe that, krogan?" Sparatus asked. "As much as your species values brute strength I can't imagine that you are all so arrogant to think the Reapers fear you."
The scarred krogan fixed Sparatus with a baleful glare.
"I've been fighting since before your grandfather was picking fights with Shepard's race, turian. It's not arrogance, it's fact. Kalros already broke one of them... and they can't bombard us into submission. So they'd have to come down and fight. That's a lot of work for our rock."
"We can't discount his claims," Victus agreed, cutting off any response from the other turian. "The Reapers don't adapt quickly but if the recent victory on Palaven has taught them anything it's apparently that we are far more of a threat than they anticipated."
"If we are such a threat then shouldn't we be doing better in this war?" Sparatus asked with a sigh.
Shepard shook his head.
"A wild boar on Earth is a threat to hunters even when they're armed with mass accelerators. But it doesn't mean that the boar can survive against a group of human beings intent on killing it. It just means that it might take one of them with it. Right now this... alliance, whatever it is we've made here, is that wild boar. The Reapers have much easier targets, why risk getting into a fight that could cost them significant resources?"
Anderson spoke up for the first time since their impromptu war council had begun. His former mentor had managed to scrounge up a passable set of service fatigues for the meeting, though the Spectre could see the stains and tears even through the faint distortion of the holographic image.
"Shepard's right... we're an unknown to them. They've never faced a united galaxy before and for all their power I think they're afraid of just how much damage we could do if we concentrated our forces."
"We've met with staggering losses, but as a whole we're in the best position since this war began," Victus said.
Planets began to light up once more with green indicators as the Primarch changed the map's parameters once more. Thessia, Sur'Kesh, Tuchanka, and Rannoch.
"Thanks to Shepard's efforts we now have the combined might of the two largest fleets in the galaxy. While the Migrant Fleet's ships might not be cutting edge they out-number even the Hierarchy's fleet for the amount of cruiser class vessels currently in service," Victus continued, nodding toward Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris.
"The geth fleet is equivalent in number," Prime, the geth representative, added. "We do not build the vessels classified as 'dreadnoughts' by organics, but Shepard-Commander has suggested that our prototype command vessel be classified as a 'super-dreadnought' for standardization purposes. The vessel will be repaired of damaged suffered during the initial Creator assault within the next sixty two hours."
"Great, we've got ships," Wrex muttered. "Now what do we do with them?"
"We draw a line in the sand," Victus countered immediately.
A line of data streamed down one side of the display as Valern tapped quickly tapped at his omni-tool. The salarian's expression was tight and troubled.
"Direct confrontation with Reaper forces has always resulted in disastrous losses. Statistical chance of success in a traditional engagement is less than one percent."
"That's why we have to start rigging the game. We have to play off the Reaper's weaknesses. They're methodical? Then we use the time to secure our positions. They're predictable? We use that knowledge to inflict maximum casualties," Shepard said firmly. "Victus and I have devised a plan to finally give us a foothold that the Reapers can't just brush aside."
"Shepard, we've seen what happens when anyone has tried to hold a fixed position against the Reapers," Anderson cautioned. "Even fighting a ground war we've learned to hit and fade. Lingering for even a few hours results in thousands of husks overwhelming our position."
He nodded at the older man, it was the same problem that had plagued him since the beginning of the war. Where do you build your theoretical super weapon if your enemy can strike anywhere? Victus spoke up to offer an explanation.
"The Reapers aren't invincible, Admiral. We've proven that. During the initial battle at the Palaven relay we managed to destroy multiple capital scale Reapers, the ones that intelligence has labeled as 'Sovereign' class. Their maneuverability in space is low in comparison to our ships and concentrated fire overloads even the strongest barriers. Our idea is to hit them with enough firepower that they won't even get a chance to respond."
"I also recall that the Reapers countered that strategy by simply making a micro-FTL jump to their target, forcing the defenders to engage on less favorable terms," Hackett pointed out.
"But what if they don't have anywhere to jump to?" the Spectre asked.
"It's called space for a reason, Commander. There's plenty of it and with their much faster FTL drives the Reapers can always disengage and jump past our defensive line to strike whatever base of operations we're using at the time, and with it the Crucible."
"Only if they want to jump into a black hole, Admiral."
The map changed once more, scaling down to focus on a single relay deep within the spiral of the galaxy. No planets circled it nor were any star systems even remotely nearby. Just an endless sea of debris and a baleful red glow.
"The Omega Four relay?" Zaal'Koris blurted.
"Exactly. Prime has informed me that among the information that the geth gained from the Reapers was the specifications for the IFF devices such as those used by the Collectors," he replied, offering the towering machine a nod. "They're already in production."
Sparatus scoffed.
"Not that I don't appreciate the audacity, Shepard, but how would you propose we build anything on the edge of a black hole? You destroyed the Collector base."
"I did," he agreed. "But there's another station just on the other side of the relay. Aria was queen of Omega, and now Cerberus has taken over. I think it's time for new management."
The room was immediately abuzz as everyone tried to speak at once. Objections over the feasibility of taking the station, much less trying to move a space station through a mass relay, seemed to be the primary concerns. Victus finally held up a hand for silence.
"We are aware that it is a risk, but think of the reward! Omega is nearly as large as the Citadel. Beyond the Omega Four relay is the one place where the Reapers can't simply jump past our forces. The safe zone is measured in thousands of kilometers. If the Reapers jump through the relay... they'll exit staring right down the barrels of our guns. Mass enough firepower on the other side of that relay and not even the Reapers will be able to force their way through."
"It's insane," Han'Gerrel stated dryly. "But it's not without merit."
Tevos's holographic image didn't look convinced, however.
"Cerberus currently controls the station and few of the inhabitants were able to evacuate. Even if we ignore the dangers of retaking the station... you're proposing dragging an entire station through a mass relay to an inhabited part of space. Don't you risk stranding the inhabitants?" the asari asked.
"Stranded at the galactic core or harvested by the Reapers?" Wrex growled. "I'd rather die doing something than just waiting."
Shepard gestured at the holo-image of Omega that floated on the projector.
"We're going to look at retrofitting the station with facilities such as the ones found on the quarian liveships. I'm not saying it will be easy. But if we're going to have a chance of winning this war we've got to stop reacting... and start acting."
"I don't think anyone can be accused of passivity in this war, Commander," Tevos said tiredly.
He looked at the faces gathered, some physically, some in holograms, but all showed signs of stress and fatigue. Shepard had learned all about his own breaking point in the past months but he was left wondering about those around him.
"I know, Councilor, but we have to be more than a desperate rabble. Months ago the government that I'd sworn loyalty to effectively ceased to exist. Our homeworld under siege, colonies burning, the seat of our government destroyed... fleets scattered. We've barely held on, trying to work in tandem with the Hierarchy, anyone that could still fight. Ever since then we've been a collection of people with a shared fear. But we can't afford to be ruled by fear anymore. We can't let old rivalries blind us to reality of the threat we face. I look around this room and I see blood enemies standing side by side for the first time in centuries."
"Sounds like to me you've got another plan," Wrex prompted with a knowing smirk.
"If we intend to face the Reapers with a united galaxy we need to make it more than a statement. We need to make it a rallying cry. No more Council politics. No more 'state secrets'. This is about our survival. Organic, synthetic... human, turian, rachni. This is our galaxy and I'll be damned if we're going to lose it because we can't put aside our petty differences."
Shepard slammed his fist down on the console in front of him to punctuate his words.
"We're ready to fight the Reapers," Zaal'Koris spoke up. "What more can we do?"
"We forge a new Systems Alliance. A real alliance, more than humanity or even the Council races! One banner to fight under. An alliance of every system in the galaxy, a unified force with a single goal: to drive the Reapers back into the darkness they came from!"
Valern found his voice first, blinking rapidly. Somewhere in Shepard's mind he could hear Mordin's clinical voice advising him. Salarians always recovered from shock quickly. Fast processing of data and emotional trauma. No time to linger.
"A bold proposal, Shepard, but do you really think the galaxy will join such a formal alliance?"
"There was a famous saying on Earth centuries ago, made by a man to a disparate group of individuals who sought to throw off the rule of the most powerful empire on our planet at the time: We must all hang together or we shall most assuredly hang separately. There's nothing easy about it... but either we fight as one or we die."
"And who would lead this... coalition of the willing? You?" Sparatus asked.
The Spectre was honestly surprised that he didn't hear any venom in the turian Councilor's voice. It was a simple question. At times there was something to be said for turian practicality.
"No," Shepard said simply. "I'm a soldier, a commander, but I'm not a strategist. I can't coordinate the massive logistics of a naval and ground campaign across dozens of worlds-"
"Maybe not. But you are intelligent enough to listen to those who can," Zaal'Koris interrupted.
Gerrel chuckled and quickly followed up on his counterpart's sentiment. "I believe I speak for all of our people when I say that the quarians will join this Alliance without hesitation. It should come as no surprise that many of our people already see you in a rather... messianic light after the events on Rannoch."
"The Geth Consensus will pledge its support to this new alliance as well," Prime intoned, dipping the triple glow of its optic in his direction in a gesture that painfully reminded him of Legion.
"Shepard... we already know that the geth, quarians, and rachni will follow you. The krogan as well I'm assuming," Victus said, glancing at his krogan counterpart's hologram.
Wrex grunted. "You're damned right."
"Which means that already the vast majority of the galaxy's military forces are on your side," the Primarch continued, unperturbed by the krogan warlord's interruption. "Like it or not, your name is burned in the minds of every race in the galaxy."
"That doesn't mean you promote me to head of state!"
"You've been the one leading the way ever since you set foot on Eden Prime, son," Anderson said, not without a hint of humor in his voice.
"This isn't what I had in mind..." he muttered.
But it was far too late. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, ideas and concepts flying rapidly through the air. The Spectre at least took solace in the fact that they had taken to the idea quickly. Now he would just have to survive the monster that he'd created.
"Research units Theta and Gamma are presumed lost due to Reaper invasion," the VI intoned levelly.
"And what about unit Alpha?" the Illusive Man asked.
A small map appeared with varying star systems being absorbed by a steady wall of red. The VI continued its dispassionate assessment.
"Unit Alpha is fully operational. Based on current patterns of Reaper expansion the location is outside of current invasion corridor. Estimated minimum of three weeks before first possible Reaper incursion. Maximum possible time before detection based on current patterns: seven weeks."
Cerberus' leader leaned back in his chair and reached out for the glass at his left, swirling the liquor once before taking a sip. He always enjoyed the faint burn of the alcohol down his throat. It was a reminder that he was still alive. It served the same purpose as most of his vices. They gave him a connection to the real world. It was so easy to get lost in the sea of data and abstractions that had dominated the many decades of his life.
"Calculate additional time assuming intervention of outside forces," he ordered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
The first casualties in the war against the Reapers had been nearly thirty years ago. It was a time he remembered clearly, a time when there were still people that he called friends and when the galaxy had seemed filled with limitless possibilities. Shanxi and the events that followed had taught him that the galaxy was filled with darkness. Darkness that could only be illuminated by a human race that was prepared for what they would find.
"Possibility of asari, salarian, or unaligned systems action: negligible. Possibility of Systems Alliance action: seventeen point four percent. Likelihood of success, low. Possibility of Turian Hierarchy action: sixteen point one percent. Likelihood of success, low. Average time differential, forty eight to seventy two hour increase in theoretical safe window."
The Illusive Man reached out to tap one of the screens. A day or two would likely make little difference in the grand scheme of the war, but every second counted in the race to complete his plans before the Reapers crushed the opposition that was currently slowing their advance. He sent orders to a few of the remaining operatives that he had in the various military organizations, instructing them to encourage action against Reaper forces in a few key areas that might distract the methodical machines.
Behind him he heard the hiss of the door and the faint sound of armored feet clicking against the tile floor. He didn't need to turn to know who it was, only two people had ever had the ability to enter his office unannounced and one of them had turned out to be a sore disappointment. She could have been the successor he had always wanted. Instead she had chosen Shepard.
"I take it the upgrades are complete?"
"Yes. My wounds have been healed or the organic failings replaced entirely," Kai Leng said confidently. "I can feel the difference already... the raw power is amazing. I was a fool to fear these upgrades."
Turning in his chair the Illusive Man gave his top operative a brief once over. Leng's arms were covered in exposed weaves of synthetic muscle fiber and thin lines ran beneath the skin of his neck. Beneath the skin he knew there was a new network of reinforced bone, dermal plating, and nano enhancements. The full upgrade process had undoubtedly been painful but the assassin was carrying himself without a hint of pain.
"You know what needs to be done?"
"Of course," Leng responded.
"Use stealth unless there's no other way to accomplish the mission. I want to avoid another encounter with Shepard if possible. There's too much at stake to risk complications now."
The assassin sneered.
"If he does become involved then this time I'll make sure he doesn't come back from the grave."
The Illusive Man kept his face expressionless, but his tone made his rebuke clear.
"Don't let your hatred blind you to what we're trying to accomplish. This is about humanity's place in the galaxy. Shepard helped us get part of the way there and as long as he's fighting the Reapers then he's still an asset."
"I will never understand your affection for that... traitor. If he had his way we'd be subservient to the likes of every alien race from the asari to the krogan," Leng replied. "A swift death is too good for that sort of scum."
"I might not agree with Shepard's politics, but I know an effective leader when I see one. Your understanding of my reasons has never been required. Only your success. I've invested a great deal in you Leng. Do not fail me again. Do I make myself clear?"
"Completely."
The assassin inclined his head slightly and backed away towards the door, maybe sensing his employer's unpleasant mood. No matter what he thought of his own abilities Leng wouldn't dream of challenging him except in the most superficial ways. The man was as loyal as a dog and possessed similar initiative. He was beginning to wonder if the dog was becoming rabid. Leng would obey his orders but he already knew that a confrontation between the two men was inevitable.
After the man had left and the doors closed behind him the Illusive Man reached for a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag. Leng had his hatred and xenophobia to remind him that he was alive. He blew out a ring of smoke and thought that he much preferred his vices. A single tap of a key brought up an image of Shepard's profile.
"We could have accomplished so much as allies, Shepard, if you could have seen reason. With you on our side Cerberus could have stood openly for humanity. Instead I have Leng..." he mused, addressing the image as if the wayward Spectre was actually present. "A blunt instrument made of hate and steel. I couldn't ask for a better killing machine."
The Illusive Man blew out another long trail of smoke.
"But I could ask for at least one person in this galaxy to understand the greater plan. When this is over they'll finally see why the sacrifices we've made have been necessary. It's a shame you won't be there to see it, Shepard."
Shepard rubbed his brow and groped for the cup of coffee that was resting nearby as he scrolled through another page of data. Without looking he took a swig, only to grimace in distaste as the lukewarm liquid slid down his throat. The old stereotype about marines loving their coffee wasn't exactly unfounded, but most still preferred it in its proper state which was mouth-scalding hot.
The clock at the upper right corner of his screen read just past three hundred hours. Looking past the holographic screen and his damaged display case he smiled at the sight of the quarian curled up on his bed. Tali had brought her knees nearly up to her chest and had seized one of his pillows in a death grip, tucked tightly just beneath her visor. She had initially insisted that she would stay up just as long as he did... but lost that particular battle within only a few hours.
It didn't bother him. In truth seeing her sleeping contentedly gave him a small sense of peace in the ever present storm that was his life. With everything that had happened in the last few days Shepard had been impressed by her endurance already. In another few hours he'd join her. And when the morning came and Tali asked when he'd finally come to bed he'd lie and say it had just been shortly after she'd fallen asleep.
He was considering making a trip down to the mess hall when his console beeped. At his request EDI limited her verbal interruptions in the cabin, instead sending the message directly to his console: a priority transmission from Admiral Hackett. The Spectre activated the link and adjusted the console volume to keep from waking Tali.
"Looks like I'm not the only one working through the mid watch," the Admiral said by way of greeting.
Shepard gave the man a tired smile in acknowledgement.
"Even before this war started it felt like there were never enough hours in the day. Now with the mess I've gotten myself into... even less. I'm beginning to wonder about the sanity of people that actually seek out this sort of position."
"I'd say welcome to command, but you've been there. I do suppose congratulations are in order... Praetor," Hackett said.
"Commander will still do just fine," he replied dryly. "When Victus came up with that I think it was an innocent suggestion, but I'm almost certain Sparatus supported it because he saw the look on my face."
A rare half smile graced Hackett's scarred face and the older man merely shrugged.
"I wouldn't put it past him. Still, the first Praetor of a new Systems Alliance... I don't know what will happen when this is all over, Shepard, but you're definitely going to make the history books."
"I'll settle for just making sure there's someone left to write the history books when this is all over," the Spectre replied. "If a true unified alliance survives this war to make things better... all the better. This temporary military rule idea should be everything I've ever asked for, but for some reason it still makes me uneasy."
He could see Hackett leaning back in his chair on the other side of the screen. What Shepard had assumed would be the start of an idea that might take precious months to realize had quickly snowballed. There had been some very heated discussion about the validity of various forms of governance, but Victus had seized on a concept that had been a part of humanity's ancient past. The fact that it bore a strong resemblance to many turian beliefs had likely gone a long way toward attracting the Primarch to the concept.
"The key part of that is the word temporary. Victus is right, it was used on ancient Earth because it was effective. In times of great crisis there isn't always time for debate. When the war is over then we can worry about how to actually create some kind of new governing council or parliament. For now by nominating you as this Praetor they're telling you that you have their support to do whatever it takes to win this war."
"I'm reminded of another old saying: absolute power corrupts absolutely," he pointed out.
"That's always the danger, Shepard," the admiral agreed. "But if anyone can walk that line... I have faith that it's you."
"I appreciate the support, sir. But something tells me you didn't call me just to offer congratulations for a position I never asked for. Is something wrong?"
Hackett shook his head and steepled his fingers.
"No, quite the opposite I think. Earlier you said that we have to stack the odds in our favor if we're going to have a chance of winning this war. I believe we may have found a way to do just that. I assume you've heard of the Leviathan of Dis?"
He leaned forward, fatigue momentarily forgotten along with his coffee.
"Rumor had it that the batarians found the corpse of some kind of massive 'living ship'... but they always denied it after the fact. Considering how quickly the batarians disappeared in the initial attack I've always assumed that the leviathan was a Reaper. That much time around even a dead Reaper would have resulted in heavy indoctrination."
"A good assumption," Hackett said. "But it's not the entire story. After Sovereign's attack at the Battle of the Citadel I created Task Force Aurora. Their job was to search for evidence of the Reapers to validate your claims. Needless to say their efforts weren't extremely successful."
The Spectre snorted but Hackett continued unperturbed.
"Trust me, I share your frustration. They found something else, though, something important. A link to the real Leviathan of Dis."
"The real leviathan?"
"Exactly. The batarians found a dead Reaper... something had to have killed it, Commander. Doctor Garret Bryson, the man in charge of Aurora, thinks he might have found what was responsible. A real leviathan: something powerful enough to kill a Reaper capital ship and escape unharmed."
"He believes that whatever destroyed that Reaper still exists?" Shepard asked.
"He does and I believe him. Bryson has evidence, good evidence. And I don't need to tell you what kind of an edge a genuine Reaper killer would provide us. We seem to be using a lot of old sayings today, here's one more: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Reapers are our enemy. Anything that can kill them? I want as a friend."
"And the doctor thinks he can locate this thing?"
Hackett nodded.
"Bryson is a genius. If he believes it's possible then I'm willing to risk it. He's currently based on the Citadel; I've sent you all of his contact information and security data via the quantum entanglement device to prevent any possibility of interception. This could be another chance for us to turn this war around, Shepard."
It was Shepard's turn to sit back in his chair as he considered the implications. In every encounter with the Reapers it had taken extraordinary means to defeat even a single one. Kalros had destroyed the one on Tuchanka and it had taken sustained bombardment to take down the Reaper broadcasting the single across Rannoch. Not to mention the significant losses suffered by the Third Fleet before Sovereign was finally destroyed. The kind of power that an entity would need to destroy a Reaper the size of Sovereign or Harbinger was staggering.
"A better question is what happens if we do find this leviathan? We're talking about some kind of ship or species that can outmatch an enemy that is capable of taking on entire fleets," he said.
"That's what we have you for, Commander. You've made peace between not one, but two sets of species that have hated each other for centuries. If anyone can make contact with this Leviathan it's you."
"Now we're hunting myths and legends. I'm just worried that even if we find Leviathan that we might find something just as dangerous as the Reapers."
"You might be right," Hackett said grimly. "But sometimes it takes a monster to fight monsters."
Shepard sighed.
"That's what I've always been afraid of."
Sorry for the even longer than usual delay. Unfortunately life is rarely accommodating, hopefully this interlude before the final leg of Shepard's journey begins will make up for it!
Once again thanks to tankobite for his beta reading assistance. In addition my favorite (and everyone else's I hope) artist has apparently been making a few sketches over on his deviant art that look promising ;)
animemagix . deviantart art / Heshla-Concept-354952696