Laryna

Garrus and Jacob were waiting for me once I got to the docking level. I went over to my locker and pulled out my gear, and noticed that it was thoroughly clean and patched.

"I've assigned someone to take care of your gear between missions," Jacob explained as I was looking it over. "And I have personally seen to the maintenance of your weapons."

It looked solid, all the seals unblemished and no signs of sabotage. I had to admit, delegating the duty would save me a lot of time. I would just give it a through check before use. Never know if there is another Wilson lurking about, and I've already died once from damaged gear.

"So this is kinda of a personal matter," Jacob said as I secured everything in place.

"I don't need to know any details," Garrus replied. "I'm just here if there happens to be any trouble."

"Well, with the Commander tagging along, that pretty much guarantees it."

"Good thing she knows how to kick ass to counter her bad luck."

"Maybe we should leave her in the shuttle."

"She does look like she needs a nap," Garrus agreed.

"Hell no," I said, stepping in on the banter. "What would you two do without your fearless leader?"

I got a couple chuckles for my weak comeback, and I followed them onto the shuttle. The pilot smoothly lifted off and through the Normandy's underbelly and down to the planet's surface. It took back off immediately after we disembarked.

I looked around. The crashed ship was just up ahead, clearly not space worthy. It had landed next to an ocean, the waters gray and choppy. The area was a pleasing mixture of rock and vegetation, the green, brown, and gray colors melding together.

"I have ran a scan of this ship," EDI reported. "I detect no life signs, but there may be useful technology or information still inside."

Trying not to roll my eyes when I notice Garrus visibly relax, we started walking forward.

"There it is," Jacob said softly as we approached and were caught in its shadow. "And mostly intact. They could have survived impact… but it's been years. Looks like it was stripped after the crash. They'd have tried to get a beacon up as soon as possible."

I noticed a portable console near an improvised bridge that lead into the ship, several yards away from the beacon standing patiently. Curious, we approached it, and I tapped a few keys to play a recording that was loaded up.

"...along with this anymore. We've done horrible things to the crew. The condition they're in, they don't understand what we're doing to them. Distract them for two seconds and they forget what you did before the bruises show. It's got to stop. I'm talking to the other as soon as-" The recording was full of static and had volume lifts, but it was understandable.

"Sounds like a good number did survive," Garrus said. Was it me, or did he sound annoyed?

"Let's see what the beacon has to report," I suggested before he tucked me under his arms and ran off in the other direction. We followed the worn in path up the slight incline to where the hologram waited. There were crates, mostly empty now, scattered in piles all along the hill here above the shore.

"Repeat," the beacon was playing as we got within hearing range. "Toxicity Alert. Danger of rapid neural decay. Local flora chemically incompatible with human physiology. Override: Beacon resumed. Pause time, eight years, two hundred thirty seven days, seven hours."

"From the look of it, this beacon's been here awhile," I said, studying the weather worn base and the choppy image. "Why would they wait years to signal?"

"Pause in beacon protocol, eight years, two hundred thirty seven days, seven hours," it repeated. "Pause in recorded as RECORD DELETED by Acting Captain Ronald Taylor."

"That's not right. My father was first officer."

"Ronald Taylor was promoted under emergency command protocols. Other flagged issues: Unsafe deceleration. Local food and neural decay. Beacon activation protocols."

"Who's in command of this ship? Where are the survivors?" I inquired of it.

"Captain Harris Fairchild reported killed following unscheduled suborbital descent. First Officer Ronald Taylor promoted in the field to acting caption."

"But where is he now?" Jacob demanded.

"The location of the remaining crew of the Hugo Gernsback is unknown. This beacon has been unattended for several cycles. "

I exchanged a look with Jacob. "I assume 'unsafe deceleration' refers to the crash?" I looked back at the beacon. "Give us the details."

"Following an unspecified impact and sublight drive failure, the Hugo Gernsback made an unscheduled descent at four hundred sixty five percent of theoretical recommended sub orbital velocity. The Hugo Gernsback then decelerated at seven hundred eighty two percent of theoretical recommended approached velocity, sustaining significant damage to investment and crew."

Rough ride.

"Why wasn't the beacon activated before now?" I asked.

"This emergency beacon became functional after three hundred fifty eight days, 12 hours, following the unscheduled suborbital descent of the Hugo Gernsback. Activation was triggered remotely after eight years, two hundred and thirty seven days, seven hours, on the authority of acting captain Ronald Taylor. Pause in beacon protocol is recorded as: RECORD DELETED."

That sounded very suspicious to me, but since Jacob hasn't spoken up yet, I won't put the worse case into play yet. It's not like we actually had any evidence of anything thus far, regardless.

"Local food impairs brain functions? What are the effects?"

"Impairment of mental function due to chemical imbalance begins withing seven days of ingesting local flora regardless of decontamination or preparation. Impact on higher cognitive abilities and long term memory is cumulative, but significant within a standard month. It is not known if neural decay is permanent. Data collection was not completed."

"Well, clearly there are survivors. We should get going."

"Let's check the ship," Jacob suggested. "My father had the beacon for almost nine years. Maybe… that neural decay affected him."

"It must have, after so long," Garrus agreed.

We crossed the makeshift bridge we had saw earlier. It was sturdy enough. It didn't lead to any pre-made doors of the ship, just a huge opening in the side. It lead into what looked like part of the med-bay. Part of the wall had collapsed, blocking anything further in, at least from here. Some of the equipment still had life.

"Always said no," another recording was saying after Garrus had accessed the open file. "She even threatened a report if I didn't stop sending messages. But now she's so innocent. They all are. And that look she gives when she smiles… It's sure easier now. What's the harm? We're stuck here any-" I was grateful when it cut off. Even as degraded as the quality was, there was no hiding the evil drawl of a predator.

"Got one from one of the medical staff," Jacob said, accessing another console.

"What… what was her name? Sarah, S-Suzanne. My god, I can't remember… I can't remember her face! We need to get out… so I can remember, can think straight. They have to hurry." I felt a little sick listening to that one, too. I couldn't imagine going through that, knowing that my mind was going, and trying so desperately to hold onto memories of loved ones.

I wandered a little further into the space available. Seeing another console, I checked it out. "Found another one."

"Crash you can't expect the luxury of due process," said a female voice, one clearly use to authority. "But this isn't a military ship. Just bumping the command line up a notch doesn't work. Captain Fairchild knew this crew. His replacement doesn't command the same level of respect. I'm hoping the man has it in him, but I doubt-" The whole console died.

Jacob was very in control of himself now, if a bit rigid in his posture. "Clearly no one is staying here for shelter. Let's see if we can find anyone." And made for the shore. Garrus and I exchanged a quick look and followed. The beacon continued it's automated warning as we passed, flickering in the speckled sunlight that crossed with its projection through this planet's fern like trees. It's a shame the area was toxic to humans; this place was lovely. But no colony would want to invest in a place that would steal their intelligence. Perhaps other kinds of crops could grow here. I'll have to make a note of this place in my logs later.

There was another large stack of crates further up the hill that was Jacob's target. There was a clear path that was worn into the ground, so it was a local choice.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Garrus said as he looked around.

Now I grew tense. If it were just me, I could push aside my unease, but I would never doubt Garrus' instincts.

"You came?" a voice shouted as we reached the outer rim of the crates. A woman came running from behind a stack, almost fearlessly. Her hair was matted to her head, and her clothes were frayed and dirty, but otherwise she looked healthy. "The leader said someone would come!" she continued as she stopped in front of us, all wide eyed and breathless. She was spinning around in circles where she now stood, her hands coming up to stress certain words in her excitement. "He delayed for so long, but he still has power! Some have lost faith. The hunters! They will have seen your star. They will not let you help him."

I gently grabbed her shoulders to try and focus her. "What are you talking about? You're not making sense."

She took a deep breath. "I—I, uh… I don't remember how to say it. He's our leader, and we serve so… we can go home. But some want to fight him. They were—they were cast out. He exiled them, so they hunt his machines and those who help him. They don't believe that rescue will come."

I noticed some movement just beyond the crates over her shoulders as she spoke, just in time to see a gun pointing in our direction. I tightened my grip and shoved her out of the way. A bullet bounced off my shields as she hit the dirt, and I moved into cover a moment later.

"Hunters!" She cried, curling up into a ball as the three of us took up defensive positions around her. "They won't stop until the leader is dead."

The hunters, as she called them, were boldly moving in closer as she spoke. They used cover, but very poorly, like they couldn't quite remember how to do it properly.

"Kill them!" one angry voice carried. "Agents of the lair! He will not escape!"

They weren't very good shooters, either, most of the bullets going very wide. I gritted my teeth a moment, hating the thought of taking them out just because they weren't in their right minds, but they weren't taking any concern over the woman hiding with us, and clearly had no intention of talking anything out with the "agents".

"Take them out," I ordered, feeling my biotics react to my words before they were completely out of my mouth. There were six or seven men, no women as far as I could tell. The cross fire lasted less than ten minutes as they made themselves easy targets as they tried to move to get a better view into our cover.

Garrus broke cover first, walking over to look at one of the fallen hunters. "Huh. They didn't have 'neural decay'. They were insane."

"My father wouldn't have let this go on," Jacob growled as he popped a used heat sink from his pistol. "Something is very wrong."

"Are you okay?" I asked the woman, who had yet to get to her feet.

"You killed them," she said said, moving to her hands and knees but no further. "But there are more every day. They want to fight, but I just want to go home."

"She's lost it," Jacob said. "We need to find someone who can make sense of this."

"Take point," I suggested, and leaned down to this poor lost soul. "Stay out of sight. Let us help."

She nodded weakly, tears falling from her eyes, but she didn't get up. I'm not sure if she understood what I meant. I hoped so.

The hill continued up, curving gently. Footing was easy with all the underlining rock. Jacob paused, and Garrus and I caught up quickly to see what caused the halt.

"Stripped for parts," Jacob said, leaning over an mech. It was in pieces, showing signs of gun fire and even blundering, and whole pieces were cleanly gone. "Tech's wearing out. Those hunters must be laying on the pressure." And he pushed on ahead again without another word. We followed in his wake.

Finally the hill leveled out, and we could see a broken hover loader pad busted to the side, and some make shift tents and smaller crates laying in neater piles up ahead. "Is that a settlement?" Jacob inquired, his feet picking up the pace. "They'd better be friendlier than the beach group. I need answers."

We walked up slowly once we got near, not wanting to alarm anyone. There were no guards, noticeable ones anyway, posted anywhere, and we couldn't see any weapons, so we quickly secured ours away on silent agreement.

"Huh," Garrus mumbled as we stood watching, waiting to be acknowledged. "They're from the same group as the ones that attacked us, but these are docile."

"There aren't any men here," I said, picking up on his train of thought. There were over a dozen women, but indeed no men. "Maybe it affects genders differently? Makes males get violent?"

"Possibly," Garrus replied thoughtfully. "But the female on the beach said the exiled ones came back as hunters."

Our calm conversation was cautiously drawing a few of the woman over to us.

"It doesn't matter right now," Jacob snapped. "One of these people must know what my father has to do with this!"

Their attention moved from us to just him, and they all started sharply. One held up her hands, almost defensively. "You have his face!" she accused. "He promised to call the sky, but he sends nothing."

Another female was moving back slightly now, shaking her head. "He forced us to eat, to… decay." And then got brave and pointed a finger at Jacob. "You are cursed with his face!"

"Not the best reaction to the family resemblance, Jacob," I said, hoping to lighten the mood before he snapped. Jacob was usually calm, but I've seen some of his temper, and I didn't want him to take it out on these women. I needed have worried though. The three that had came up to us had already fled, and everyone, while not abandoning camp, stayed well away.

"Why would my father force his crew to eat toxic food?" Jacob said, ignoring my jibe. "Whatever's happening here needs to stop."

And despite his clear agitation, he moved slowly through the camp. I looked around carefully, sadden. There was barely any cover for them for bad weather. Perhaps this area was mild enough where it wasn't necessary. My eyes swiped over one group of women, and I couldn't help but notice one had a clearly swollen belly. Another quick look around though didn't show any children.

"Look at these food stores," Jacob said, bringing my attention away from my darkening thoughts. "They've been eating only that toxic local flora for who knows how long. Like that wasn't obvious enough." He was sounding sick now, echoing how I have been feeling for the past hour, and it only got worse when we reached the center of the camp and came across a monument. It was vaguely man shaped, small crates and sheets of metal all wrapped about and held together with cables. "What the hell? Somebody had to push them to make that. That's borderline… worship?"

It took us a little while to get to the far side of the camp at our pace, but I didn't want to cause alarm and I wanted to be able to do a sweeping study of it as much as I could, knowing we couldn't stop yet to do anything more. We had spotted a clear path leading out of the camp and towards other large rock formations in the trees, and were nearly there when we could hear some incoming scuffling.

"Your captain demands obedience," a mechanical voice said, and a small herd of mechs came around the turn into the edge of camp. "Weapons are forbidden." We reacted instantly, pulling the attention of the mechs to the left, and away from the last group of females that were huddled near a rock cliff to the right. Luckily our fire drew all attention away from them, and we dispatched them easily.

"His mechs shoot without question?" Garrus growled. "Not exactly a long-term discipline solution."

"Well that would make them hate him," Jacob said slowly, sorting through his thoughts. "But maybe it was just for defense."

I had to admire on how, after everything we've seen so far, he was still holding onto some hope that maybe his father wasn't responsible for all of this.

"Please," said one of the women, separating from the others to come over to us. "Here. You can end it." Jacob approached her cautiously. She had a data pad in her hands, and a slightly strangled look on her face as she tried to focus. "You… have his face… but you fight his… machines. You might stop this." She hands him the pad. "This… I forget how to… read, but this… was the start. What he promised, and what they did to us. We need the sky. Take us back to the sky." And she retreated back to her friends. Jacob took several long minutes to study what he was given as I waited impatiently.

"Jacob? What does it say?" I finally asked.

He took a deep breath. "It's a crew logbook. Some of them thought the beacon repair was taking too long. They were afraid they'd run out of supplies and lose their minds to the decay. My father restricted the ship food for himself and the other officers so they wouldn't be affected. Everybody else had to eat the toxic food and hope for treatment later. The rest is a causality list. A few mutinied over the decision. My father and the officers turned the mech on them."

That was pretty much what I had formulated in my head up to this point. "He wasn't command material, and it got to him. Couldn't keep the crew in line without violence."

"It didn't stop there," Jacob said in disgust. "More incidents, harsh punishments. It's like they're cattle. Or toys. In a year, all of the male crew members are flagged as 'exiled' or dead. They separated out the women. Assigned them to officers, like pets. And after the beacon was fixed, the officers appear in the causalities, too. After! My father took control and didn't stop it."
It was taking all my discipline to keep my calm. Both Jacob and Garrus were shaking from their anger, and we couldn't all lose our cool. I took in a long draft of air into my lungs to steady myself. "Anything in there about whether the effects of the toxic food can be treated?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. But it seems like the right call. If everybody gets it, who's left to fix the beacon? You'd never get out. But they did fix it. And the signal wasn't sent until now. I'm starting to see why."

"We haven't seen any other officers," I said, thinking over the ruined clothes of the hunters and the women we've come across. "He killed them?"

"There were five after the crash," Jacob replied, pulling up that section of the report. "Medical, engineering, bridge staff. Should've had no problem fixing the beacon and keeping people safe. All killed within the same week—about a week after the beacon was repaired."

Another breath. "Does it say why he separated the men and women? Or is it as bad as it seems?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, it turns to gibberish. Maybe the men got violent early on, but from the state of this place, I'd say the hunter thing is recent. What he allowed here, Laryna… I don't see any justification. None of this fits. Maybe the initial decision, but the rest? Abuse of power doesn't get any clearer than this."

"We're not going to find any answers here," Garrus said, looking ahead.f

"No, we're not," Jacob agreed, and moved off as he took point again. I cast one last look into the camp behind us, watching the women watch us. I couldn't make sense of the expressions on their faces.

"I can't believe this," Garrus grumbled in a low voice to me.

"It's worse than it seems," I replied sadly. "It's been nearly ten years, and all those women were taken advantage of. I saw one clearly pregnant. But no sign at all of any children."

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he took on my meaning.

We were met with a barricade further on. Garrus passed me his rifle without a word and pulled out a small grenade from his suit. Waiting until we had taken shelter, he tossed it at the base and quickly ran back to join us. It did the trick, and we were able to move through the rubble. A few yards further on, we were all brought up short as our radios crackled to life.

"This is Captain Ronald Taylor. Thank god you're here! My crew went insane. I only just got free!"

"Goddamnit," Jacob gasped. "It's really him. Just got free? He's covering his ass." And he rushed forward. The radio continued to crackle in our ears, but no further messages were coming through, and none of us trusted ourselves to try and make contact.

Jacob pulled up short again, and I could easily see why. There were several bodies on the path, all in varies degrees of decay. The oldest as laying on its back, arms and legs flung wide in the ultimate position of defeat as it laid there in death.

"The oldest corpse was posed," Garrus said, echoing my thoughts again. "Like a warning. The new ones were left where they fell."

"The hunters started fighting back," Jacob concluded.

We came up to another camp a short distance up from the dire warning, but it was clear it hadn't been used in a long time. Rags flapped in the wind where they had long came free of their attempts to provide shelter, and everything had a thick layer of dirt on it. The only thing out of place was the fire next to the foremost crate. It was large and hot enough that I couldn't get close enough to even see what was burning.

The only inhabitants here were more mechs, which opened fire on us as soon as we came onto their radar.

"Careful," the captain said over our radios. "I automated my defenses after the crew turned violent. They keep attacking! I had no choice."

He could see us.

"He had plenty of choices," Jacob grunted as he used a biotic toss on a mech that was closing in. "Little late to blame his victims."

Jacob fought with a determination I hadn't seen him bring to bear before. His biotics weren't particularly strong, but well controlled and practiced. He moved smoothly around the available cover, light and quick on his feet, continually in motion. It keep the mechs focused on him, so I was able to stay in a single cover a bit further back and attack from range, and Garrus was doing the same. The concentration of mechs were thick, but none of us took any hits as synced and enraged as we silently were.

"I had to keep them busy, distracted, but it's getting dangerous. Thank god you've come!" Ronald Taylor said as we fought. Lining up his excuses.

"He had his fun, and now he wants out. Son of a bitch," Jacob cursed, pushing harder.

The camp ended and we had to travel up yet another path. I was surprised to see men taking up position in this area when we reached what I was guessing the final setup; not a camp, but a fortified killing zone. I can see why, despite the years they've been here, that this man was able to stay alive. It was medieval, but effective.

"It took years to train my guards," our target said to us. "I'm afraid you'll have to fight them to rescue me."

"Throwing people away," Jacob said in rage, biotic energy running up and down his body. "This… thing… is not my father."

These men didn't become hunters, I thought to myself in distraction. I was hating having to take their lives. They were victims, as much as the women left behind us, and for us to be unable to even give them a chance to recover was horrible. I wonder why these men were able to be brainwashed. Perhaps our theories of gender based violence levels were off. These men still fight, but for their leader, and not against. They've likely killed their friends defending him. And that thought failed my attempt to distract myself; I just became more pissed.

As we got close to the back of the fortifications, a heavy mech became active and lumbered forward. For whatever reason, it instantly focused on me. I barely had a barrier up in time to stop from being blown away with a missile, and I knew a rain of bullets were coming my way next, but I was caught mostly in the open. My only possible shelter was a worn crate, and I knew it wouldn't be able to hold up to its attacks.

Well, shit. Dr. Chakwas and Garrus was going to yell at me again. I'll never get to leave the ship.

As the arm equipped with the weapon of my impending pain was raised and locked on, it was knocked off course and the bullets ended up spraying into the ground in front of my and then through the air off to my right. I looked off to my left and saw Garrus had brought his sniper rifle to bear and had shot the offensive arm just as it had started its attack. He now shot at the small head unit. The hit brought down it's shields and had nicked it's armor good, but before I could even turn around and bring my own gun to bear, Garrus popped the used heat sink, reloaded, and finished it off with another shot. The heavy mech shudders, the shock of the loss of its main processor coursing through its circuits, and it explodes.

"Nice shot!" I heard Jacob shout approvingly.

Coming up on my six looking very smug with himself, I rolled my eyes. "Show off," I grumbled. He grinned. It helped me cool down as nothing else could do.

"Enough with the toys," Jacob said as he wiped some sweat from his brow. He had worked his amp hard. "I need to look my father in the eye and hear him justify this."

We approached the door at the back of the fortifications, and it parted for us without issue. On the other side was a short path that lead to an enclosed space made by rocky cliffs walls, which had a large tarp hanging from them to create a loose ceiling. It effectively blocked out most of the sun. I could see several crates of food stores here, a well maintained cot, a table with multiple weapons and other tools all stationed neatly in the space available. Just past it's shade there was a man-made balcony of steel that overhang from the hill and towards the ocean, the top of the fern like trees just raising into view on either side. It was a pretty view. A large moon was glowing faintly in the sky beyond, with wispy clouds the fading sunlight brought to life.

And a man standing in its center, marring the beauty of the scene.

"You're here!" Ronald Taylor said excitingly, walking towards us. "I knew a real squad would blow through just fine." He faulted a moment as I walked right past him and leaned against the railing of his balcony. "Sorry if the mechs scuffed your pads." Brief awkward silence. "I'll get you something nice when we get back to Alliance space. I've got to have some back pay coming."

"What about your crew, Acting Captain?" Jacob demanded. I'm surprised he wasn't recognized yet.

"Total loss," he replied without hesitation. "The toxic food turned them wild. They propped me up here in some kind of ritual behavior. Waiting for a chance to signal has been hell."

"That's the best you can do?" Jacob hissed.

"You let all your people talk back like that… uh… who are you exactly?"

I turned around slowly, crossing my arms across my chest, hoping it'd help me from attacking him. "Commander Shepard of the Normandy," I replied. "I believe you're acquainted with Mr. Taylor."

"Taylor?" he repeated in shock, spinning away from me to look at his son. "Jacob? No, not Jacob."

"Why not me? Would ten years of this look better to anyone else in the galaxy?" Jacob demanded. He leaned forward threateningly, but kept his distance for the moment.

"You have to understand. This isn't me," he pleaded, echoing some of what Jacob was saying on our journey up here. "The realities of command, they change you. I wasn't ready for that. I made sure you were taught right. Before I left. I had hoped to leave it at that."

"I'm not unreasonable, Captain," I cut in. Jacob was shaking again in his anger. He needed some time to collect himself. "But ten years? What happened?"

"Goddamnit, why did you do this to your crew?" Jacob roared.

The captain held up his hands defensively. "There was resistance to the plan. Mutiny. We had to take a hard line to keep order. And things settled down. As the decay set in, we made sure the crew were comfortable."

As Jacob's father spoke, I could see some of the hunters walking slowly into the camp. They appeared to be unarmed, though I doubt that would stop any of them from trying to claim the life that had hampered them so. I caught Garrus' eye and nodded to the approaching party, and he lifted his assault rifle and stood sentry at the balcony edge. Neural decoy or no, they men slowed then stopped at the sight of the superior firepower.

"Some even seemed happier," he was saying, unaware of the new additions to his confessions as he was now looking out over the ocean, unable to look Jacob in the eye. "Ignorance is bliss, right? And they were grateful for guidance, like an instinct. Pure authority was… easy. At first. Months in, the effect lowered inhibitions. They got territorial. Rank, protocol—they couldn't understand. We had to establish dominance. After awhile the perks seemed… normal."

"That's it?" Jacob asked in disgusted. "You created a harem and played king? Ten years in a juvenile fantasy?"

He pushed himself slowly from the railing. "I can't point to where it all went wrong," he said, trying so hard to sound as if he felt guilt. He turned around and slowly walked back towards his son. "But when the beacon was ready, revealing what happened didn't seem like a good idea."

"What triggered the males to change and threaten you?" I asked.

"This place has some strange cycles to it," Captain Taylor said as he looked at the sky. "I've seen some plants around I never saw before, odd weather. Maybe some just adapted a little too well."

Jacob snorted. "And if you treat them like animals—big shock—they become animals?"

"The stores from the ship couldn't last forever," I pointed out. "You had to know this would end one day."

The man actually shrugged. "Dining for one can really stretch things out. Besides, I can think of a lot worse retirement plans than stripping down and joining the droolers. That was before the hunters, of course. Dumb or not, I'd feel it if they got their hands on me now. They want blood. I'd prefer to keep it." He must have noticed the hunters waiting quietly, even calmly, though there was no mistaking the hate in their eyes.

"It's all about you," Jacob said slowly. "Everything."

"What happened to the other officers?" I demanded.

He unwilling turn his glaze to me. "Anders found his conscience a little late to step back. He had an accident. Things got… tense. End of the day, I was the one with the mechs." He started pacing. "I got a little basic setting examples, but I was kind to my people once things settled down. Seemed like I'd earned some peace."

"You fought over people like they were toys," Jacob countered. "Things."

I put a hand briefly on Jacob's shoulder, not wanting him to lose his temper completely. At least not yet. "You didn't feel any responsibility to get out of here for the sake of family?"

The captain shook his head. "I gave him a good start. He was a smart kid and was better off not following me. We figured that out a long time before I took jobs in deep space. And after things escalated here, it seemed best to just disappear off the galactic map."

"Until you needed someone to save your ass," Jacob grunted.

"We can help these people," I said. "Cerberus can have ships here in days and pull everyone out."

Still deeply angry and hurt, Jacob pulled his pistol and leveled it with this father's head. "He's not worth the fuel to haul him out, or the air he's breathing," Jacob growled, and then slowly lowered his gun. "He's damned lucky I don't even think he's worth pulling the trigger. I don't know who you are. Because you're not any father I remember."

I let out the breath I wasn't aware I was holding. "We'll secure him for an Alliance court. For every year here, he'll have ten to think about it."

Fully turning his back on the captain, Jacob nodded to me. "Give him all the time in the galaxy. The man who did this doesn't know right from wrong."

"I'm sorry, Jacob," his father said, head hanging. "I did the best I could."

"I'm ten years past believing that."

Jacob

We spent two days planet-side, the commander ordering a good chunk of our own supplies to be provided for the comfort of the survivors of the Hugo Gernsback. I had ordered some of the crew to isolate my father in the wreckage of the ship, and I didn't bother seeing or talking to him again, though he kept requesting to see me.

I don't think they were exactly happy about it, but the exile men slowly came to the camp at the base of the hill my father was propped up on and didn't harass us for sparing their acting captain's life. Perhaps they were okay with just his lost of power. We built a few bonfires and set up proper tents with clean cots and blankets, and the women all seemed very happy. The commander surprised us all with being quite knowledgeable about outdoor cooking, and there were Cerberus crew mingling with the Hugo crew, whom all were thrilled to have something substantial to eat, and not something they could just understand would keep making them sick. Even Dr. Chakwas was brought planet-side, and made rounds to check on the crew, ordering some people to take them a few at a time with some proper soap and wash at the shore.

The commander didn't suffer any new injury, and her current ones held up during the unexpected action we saw here, for which I was grateful. Not only for the sake of our mission and her general well being, but because I'm pretty sure her turian buddy would have strangled her personally if she came out worse off. She spent most of her time near him, preferring his company still to that of the Cerberus crew. Though the crew chosen for the Normandy was picked with humans that weren't against aliens, I knew that was still generating some questions.

I watched her move comfortably across the increased camp site, talking with everyone with a warm smile on her face. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie, but it did nothing to hide the strength and curves of her body. Laryna was definitely attractive, but I'm fairly certain she would slug me if I made a move on her now after she had dismissed a possible show of interest on the Normandy. And I'm not sure how Miranda would take it. I could tell that the commander's growing success and presence on the ship was starting to get to her. I didn't want to be the cause of causing unrest between them.

She was sitting down now next to Garrus by the largest fire, offering him an untouched plate I assumed she made special for his dextro diet. Her love of cooking never came up on any of the personality trait charts that existed of her. I wonder where she picked that up from? She was wrinkling her nose now as Garrus waved the plate under her chin, likely trying to get her to take a bite, and she nimbly leaped away, clearly laughing. Even knowing she had a nasty cut on her thigh and a flesh wound on her abdomen, she still moved around like it was easy, carrying pain as easy as she did her smiles. Damn, that Alenko kid was a fool.

I turned my thoughts from the commander, though she was the much more agreeable topic, and focused instead on a stray thought that had invaded my mind earlier today, and a quick check through the protocol of events confirmed, was much more pressing. The alert I had gotten was sent directly to me about the Hugo Gernsback. Not to Cerberus, or another third party passing it along that I could tell. Obviously my father didn't sent it; the man clearly wished I was anywhere but here. The only person I could think of that had that kind of pull who would give a shit was the Illusive Man, but I can't imagine what he would gain from digging this all up, and he never does anything without benefit.

On the morning of the third day, the Cerberus crew packed up and took the shuttles back to the Normandy. The commander had insisted on calling in Alliance assistance for these people instead of allowing Cerberus to handle it, and I didn't care enough to argue either way. Nor apparently did Miranda, as she didn't dispute the call. They were due to arrive in the next couple hours, and we wanted to be long gone by that time.

As soon as I was on the ship, I made for the halo room. I punched in the emergency code to connect directly to the Illusive Man, and stepped into the scanner as soon as the table lowered.

"I demand to know what you are playing at," I said as soon as his image appeared.

The Illusive Man was sitting in his usual chair. If he was shocked to see me, he didn't show it. "I'm not sure where your information is coming from, Mr. Taylor, but I assure you, I'm not the one who tipped you off about the Hugo Gernsback."

I crossed my arms, not buying it. "What do you mean, it wasn't you?"

"Jacob, if I had leaked the information about the Gernsback, I would be smiling at your resolution of the situation. I am not smiling."

"Really?" Laryna said beside me, and I barely kept myself from jumping. I hadn't realized she joined me. "Because given the result, it feel like something you'd have your hands in."

He took a long pull of his cigarette before answering. "You know very little about me, Laryna. Don't presume to understand my intentions. Cerberus is ultimately about humanity. My people are valuable to me."

There was no arguing that point. The commander may want to, but I knew it would be pointless. "Fine," I said before she could say anything. "You didn't forward it. So who did?"

"I did," said a familiar voice behind me, and I turned my head to see Miranda joining us now too.

Laryna was clearly confused. "Was this suppose to be a favor, or did you just want to see him squirm?" I found that to be a fair question.

"What he did with it was his own business," Miranda stated matter-of-factly. She then looked me straight in the eyes with a slight softening. "There was a time when it mattered to you. Sending this along seemed like keeping an old promise. I keep my promises."

"Miranda, we'll discuss your liberal interpretation of security protocol in private. Laryna. Jacob."

I stood looking at her beautiful face for several long moments after the call was terminated. She actually looked sad, and I wondered at that, but she walked away before I could say anything. I wasn't sure if I did have anything to say.

Turning to face the commander wasn't any better. There was compassion all over her face. "You good with this, Jacob?" she asked gently.

"It's all bull, Laryna," I replied, being completely open and honest. "Captain Taylor can rot in prison—it doesn't change who I am or what I know. I've already mourned the man he used to be. I guess he was a good enough father that even he can't screw up what he taught me."

"You had no idea Miranda was behind this?"

I shook my head. "No. She's got a good memory. Selective, but good. I haven't thought about those days in a long time. I can't figure out which promise she meant, though. Not sure I really want to know. She… requires a better man than I."

I was glad when she didn't push. "Come on. We've got work to do."

"Aye, Commander," I agreed, then grabbed her arm as she turned to go. "Laryna? Thanks for the help."

"Anytime, Jacob," she replied with one of her warm smiles.

I'm a damn fool, too.