Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: A little behind schedule, I'll admit it, but real life is putting a lot of mental stress on me right now. I find it hard to keep motivated.
Episode 62: Return to Eden Prime
When Shepard returned to the Normandy, she was utterly unsurprised to see that Joker had taken liberties while Kaidan left him in charge. Sure, the ship was still in one piece, but he organized everyone to meet her on the CIC and whipped them up into a particular mood while at it. It was the most crowded and loud that deck two had ever gotten. The crew was very enthusiastic with their applause and congratulations, and very open about their every intention to celebrate her promotion. Joker looked very proud of himself.
It was almost half an hour between her return and when Shepard managed to duck into the OD. Celebrating a promotion was well and good, but she had some important things that she needed to do. First and foremost, she needed to contact Admiral Hackett to appraise him of this development, since it would change some of the operational parameters.
After that was hashed out, she would need to actually register with the Spectre office and submit her biometrics. That would then get her the clearance passcodes, authorizations, and all other delightful things that Nihlus loved to wave around. Complicating the matter was the fact that all that bureaucratic nonsense could only be done in person. After that, she inevitably expected something else to come up, to say nothing of needing visit Castis again. When she was done mentally itemizing things, the list threatened to make her head spin.
Shepard took a deep breath, held it for a long moment, and then slowly let it out, anchoring herself. There was no reason to freak out, she just needed to power through that entire mess one item at a time. Decision made, Shepard made her way toward her console and pulled it out standby to check her messages. The news apparently had not left the Citadel yet, because she only had two things in her inbox. The first was a data package from the Spectre office, instructions and registration forms. However the second data package did give her pause. It was from Castis Vakarian.
She tapped it open and skimmed over the contents. The letter was brief, the senior detective congratulated her on becoming a Spectre and announced that Executor Pallin had agreed to release the autopsy report she requested. Castis also added the full laboratory report as well, since he could justify it as having to do with the autopsy. Duly attached to the message were two files, both marked by a case number and file identification code. One glance at the time stamp revealed that the message arrived before she had even returned to the Normandy.
Shepard could not help but grin. There was only one way to look at this message coming so quickly after her promotion. One of the Citadel Security officers who had been present at her ceremony had reported to his superiors. Pallin read the writing on the wall and could only admit defeat, albeit in private, to avoid the inevitable dog and pony show. Shepard did not mind, really only Nihlus would be upset at this, as only he enjoyed throwing his weight around.
As she keyed the commands to log off and put the terminal back in standby, Shepard could not be bothered to tamp down her self-satisfaction. She was still grinning from ear to ear as she turned toward the COMCON.
The call to Admiral Hackett did not take long. There was no need to drag the reveal out, and the Admiral did not seem to fault her if he thought she came off as the cat that ate a whole flock of canaries. In fact, just before the admiral signed off, saying that he would pass the news around, she noted something flicker past his normally professionally detached countenance a particular twinkle of the eye. She could not help but think that he would enjoy spreading the news around.
Shepard would bet that the first people to know would be her mother and Captain Anderson. After that admiral would personally notify Lindholm, just to rub it in her face in the most professional manner possible. Shepard would have loved to be the fly on that wall. Lindholm officially could not even point a finger at her without incurring the parliament's displeasure. She would have to keep her grudges to herself. At the very least the news would ensure she would have a positively wonderful evening. That thought was enough to make Shepard chuckle.
Just as soon as Shepard was back in the OD, she spotted Nihlus lounging on the couch under the viewports, in his civvies, his hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, and looking as comfortable as could be.
"So, when do you want to go register on the system?" He asked.
"As soon as possible… but how long is that going to take?" She wondered.
"About an hour." He replied without hesitance. "They will want full palm prints, retinal scan, voice pattern, and genetic material. The voice pattern will require reading a text in your native language, translator off, one that contains as many different phonetics as possible. I do wonder if they prepared that for a human yet."
"We'll find out, won't we?" Shepard replied. As far as she could tell, that was standard. Even her mobile armor locker used palm print and voice recognition. The Spectres went a step further because palm prints could not be used with armor on. As for voice recognition, a larger sample would just maximize certainty and security.
"After that is done we can go get that autopsy report. It will be entertaining," Nihlus grinned.
Shepard shook her head, just looking at him right then she could tell that he was actually looking forward to that part. She was going to have to deluge on his parade. "Actually, that won't be needed. One of the officers there must have reported my promotion. Castis has already sent the report over."
Nihlus sat up as quickly as if the couch electrocuted him, "You are kidding, right?"
"Nope. The report arrived even before we came back."
"Pallin probably does not want his underlings to see you make him rue telling you no," Nihlus replied. "Congratulations, by the way."
Shepard shrugged. She was not Nihlus, she was not going to derive pleasure from that fact. "Whatever reason floats his boat," She muttered. "It's a least concern issue. The more immediate part is that we will be heading to Eden Prime soon. I need to figure out how to accommodate Doctor T'Soni. She will be working for the Alliance officially."
"Get her to sign the same nondisclosure contacts as the rest," Nihlus cut in. "You do not want her breathing a word about anything she sees on this ship."
"That's given. Admiral Hackett would not let her see the ship if she could talk. The real issue is… we're going to have to make some adjustments, won't we?" The Normandy was not designed to give everyone a stateroom. Things were getting complicated fast, and that was compounding on to the faint throb in her temple. She had first noticed it while talking to Admiral Hackett. It was not pain per se, just pressure. She was wound up and stressed, and the day was not ending any time soon.
Nihlus rose to his feet and crossed the distance between them. "I distinctly remember Hackett telling you to take it easy for a while." His hands landed on her shoulders.
Shepard blinked and stared up into his eyes, "I am just going to register in the system, get my clearances, and then figure how to settle Doctor T'Soni on this ship. After that, we are off to Eden Prime. Unless the Heretics decide to show up, then we are going to be spelunking inside a mine. The only hard work in all that is not getting lost."
Nihlus' hands dropped away as his mandibles flicked, almost as if he wanted to grin, but bit it back. "Alright, but for the record, I am not giving up my cabin."
"Don't worry, I wasn't going to ask." Shepard replied blandly. "It wouldn't be fair to the rest of the crew if they had to deal with your ego all day long." She intentionally raised an eyebrow. As far as she was concerned that was the only way to respond to his attitude. His mandibles flicked, but when he did not say anything for a good three seconds, long enough for his quick tongue, Shepard clapped him on the upper arm and turned toward the OD door. "Come along then. Let's get this annoying part over with. After that… well, we'll see what comes up." Something would always come up. That was just how the dice rolled for her.
It was almost three hours before Shepard returned to the Normandy. Becoming the first human Spectre came with a lot of hoops to jump through. For one, the asari worker at the office did not quite believe her when she said she was there to register as a Spectre. She insisted on verifying the claim with Tevos' secretary, which took a while.
After that, it took her a bit to figure out what text to have Shepard read for the voice print analysis. Being put on the spot, the asari jumped to suggest that Shepard should read two or three pages of a famous work of literature, as naturally as she could, so that the computer could pick up the nuances of her voice.
The first work she chose, A Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare, Shepard had to veto, because of the language difference. Instead she suggested Sherlock Holmes, having read all the stories as a teenager, they were literally the first work of literature in a more modern English that popped into her head. Sure, Shepard could pronounce Elizabethan English just fine, but it might send someone's translator into a fit when it tried to work around some of the older words.
When all was said and done, Shepard requested a glass of water, as her throat had gone dry. Add to that, there was the psychological effect of being told to read in her natural voice and cadence. It automatically made her nervous about being somehow off. This was the reason why it took such a long sample. The hope was that she would calm down halfway through. The asari seemed satisfied, Shepard would take that as a good sign and not think about it. She already had way too many other things to think about.
As a consequence of everything returning to the Normandy for the final time that evening brought with it some sense of relief to her. The running around exhausted her, maybe more mentally than physically, but all the same. Her list of things to do in the most immediate future was down to three things. Now she only had to figure out what to do with Liara, get everything ready for their trip to Eden Prime, and then have a look at the files Castis had sent her. The former two would have to wait, because Admiral Hackett had not contacted her about the local connection yet. So she opted to get that third item out of the way first.
As Shepard cut a beeline across the CIC toward the OD, Nihlus still in tow, she asked EDI to call Garrus up to the OD. By the time she sat down on the OD couch, and set the two spare datapads with the files on the coffee table, Nihlus had already monopolizing the extension wing, and Garrus stepped into the room.
"Spect- no… Commander, you wished to see me?" Garrus started.
Shepard smiled. Garrus floundering over which title to use right then was unintentionally funny. "Come on in, Garrus. Now… I say this as a blanket order to the both of you. I don't want to be addressed as 'Spectre Shepard'. It's not that the title doesn't have a certain ring to it, but it's… inconvenient. What they don't know, I will use to my advantage as long as possible."
Nihlus chuckled, "Knew that was coming."
"I thought of that maybe a little slower than I should have… but yes. It is a bit obvious. You rarely mention being the White Death too." Garrus replied, mandibles flicking with his grin as he drew near and stopped on the other side of the coffee table.
Shepard shook her head. One of these days she would get Garrus to finally drop titles altogether, and she sincerely wished that day would come a few billion years sooner than the heat death of the universe, but now was not here or there. She was not even going to correct them about why she avoided that other title either. "Well great, you two can read me like a book. Be gleeful later." Sarcasm, the final refuge of the unamused, right before the topic change. "Seriously though…" she stopped. Talk about tonal whiplash, but in her defense, they started on teasing her, so it was all on them. "I wanted to start by thanking the both of you."
"For what?" Garrus asked.
"For everything." Shepard replied. "I'm… well it's starting finally to sink in, I'm a Spectre now." That was a bit of misdirection her part, but an innocent one. That fact that she was now a Spectre had sunk in a little sooner than just now. It was more like only now, having completed her registration, that the urge to pinch herself finally went away.
"I did say you would become one." Nihlus murmured.
"Yes, and… well you've… the both of you, have been with me the whole way. I feel like saying thank you just does not even begin to cover the gratitude I feel."
Garrus shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes clearly locked on something outside the OD viewport.
"You sound surprised." Nihlus said.
Shepard stared at the floor. She figured she owed them the truth, no matter how personally unpleasant saying it would be. "I'm paranoid that way. Up to the moment I completed the registration, I expected something to go wrong. I don't know what, but something."
She heard material shift against the imitation leather. In the next moment the couch section on which she sat moved. Shepard looked up, Nihlus had moved to sit next to her. Before she could open her mouth to say one more word, his arm wrapped around her shoulders and in the next instant she found herself pulled into his side. Her mouth fell open in surprise even as his body warmth enveloped her entirely. She tried to slip her fingers into the division between couch cushions, but the fit was too tight. Still, gripping onto the edge would prevent her from doing something as infinitely stupid right then.
"Spirits, Shepard," He announced. "You really are unable to relax."
"I can relax just fine… when I can allow myself to do so."
Nihlus chuckled, "That is being unable to relax."
She turned to glare up at him, only to see that he was grinning toothily. She was not going to win that argument, was she? "Fine, I can't relax. Happy?" She muttered.
Nihlus' grin got even bigger. "Very. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to solving it."
Shepard rolled her eyes and turned to look at Garrus.
He must have understood it more as her raising a 'send help' sign, because he perched on the junction of the main couch and its extension and reached for one of the pads on the coffee table. "I do not think the Commander called us up here for… that, Kryik." His tone of voice was matter-of-fact bland, disinterested even.
Nihlus' arm slid off her shoulder. Shepard leapt at the opportunity to straighten and shift away. She would wonder what type of temporary insanity Nihlus had just experienced later. "Garrus is right." She announced, and flicked the pad in her hands in the ex-detective's general direction, "I wanted to discuss the autopsy report and the lab report Castis sent me while the Council was putting on a show. I prepared spare copies for both of you, so Nihlus, you have no excuse to be invading my personal space any more than you've already done."
"Ruin my fun, will you?" Nihlus grumbled, as he picked up the third pad, though he was still grinning.
Shepard pretended not to have heard that as she scanned over the text. It quickly became apparent to her just how thorough and exhaustive in its details the report was. Just the wound catalogue was three pages long, going from head to toe, with each wound getting its own complete annotations. Because of the detail level involved it took her a few moments to find the wound that was labeled as the fatal one, and another to understand the medical jargon. "Well, Leng is nothing if not brutal in his efficiency. The fatal wound severed the hepatic artery. She would not have been able to struggle for very long after that." It would be best if she tried to keep herself clinically detached, get herself to step away from the fact that the victim was her clone. Any other approach would make everything feel very weird.
Garrus hummed, "That would support your theory that he wanted to add… shock value to the crime scene. All bleeding ceases when the heart stops beating. The only other way to create any type of mess is by gravity… to hang the body. That takes time, risks noise, and typically indicates that we should be looking for multiple suspects. It is also typically done for a different purpose, the gore is an added element."
Shepard almost shuddered. The way Garrus described that, it sounded more like he was recounting something he had seen personally. "Leng likely can't trust… or even get along with anyone well enough to have an accomplice." She murmured. Video evidence aside, it had to be said.
"Very few sadistic killers can. Most also do not like to… erm… share." Garrus said.
Shepard did not want to think about what would get a sadistic killer off. She focused on the bottom of the report where the coroner listed trace evidence recovered from on or in the body. There were two whole pages listing all the hairs and clothing fibers found stuck in the dry blood. Shepard double-checked by scanning over the list three times, but there was only hairs and fibers. "Remember how I thought that Leng's knife might leave a fragment in one of her wounds?"
Garrus turned back to his pad and scrolled down as his eyes scanned over the text.
"There was no fragment," Nihlus stepped in.
"Exactly." Shepard said. "Leng never broke that fragile carbon fiber blade. Even as it dulled after that first stroke, and it did dull. Take a look at the wound list up there… the coroner noted that after that first strike, the subsequent wounds increasingly show signs of tearing. Leng was forcing that blade in by the last one. That adds up to the idea that there was no meaningful struggle during which he could have broken the blade. He was in full control the entire time."
Nihlus hummed low in the back of his throat.
Shepard went on, "This was a very macabre bit of theater."
"Both him and Banes are sick and twisted," Nihlus growled.
"Oh without a doubt." Shepard shook her head and sighed. "Leng is pathological. As for Banes… well, he cloned me, then probably convinced her that she was an individual, and then slipped a tracker. That speaks of someone with little to no capacity for empathy. We also know that Leng was following a signal. Then if you look at the wound description… the coroner found a gouged amp port, but no amp. It was crudely and forcefully extracted. The tracker had to have been in it."
"Makes sense," Nihlus murmured.
"I have to wonder, why did they make her a biotic? You are not, everyone knows that," Garrus stated.
"That is a good question," Shepard stated as she flicked a finger in his direction. "The easy answer, or at least the one that makes the most sense would be… they needed to put a tracker in something that she would not throw away if she ever ran for it."
"That, and being a biotic would be useful to her." Nihlus mused.
"Was it?" Shepard asked. "It did not stop Leng."
"That… is a point." Nihlus conceded.
Shepard nodded. "I don't think she was particularly powerful. Leng stepped into that room with the knife already in his hand, he was telegraphing intent. A biotic could have easily thrown him back with everything they had before running. If she didn't, then she couldn't." It was a supposition, still Shepard knew that when faced a life and death threat people tended to react instinctively, they made at least an attempt to defend themselves. "You know… we don't have video from what happened in that room. She might have tried something, but it did not work well. That would've given Leng the time to close the distance. That still tells me her biotics couldn't have been particularly powerful."
"We will probably never know." Garrus rumbled as he leaned back into the couch.
Shepard turned to look him in the eye, "Therein lies the rub. But I'm happy with what we got." She flicked the pad in her hands, "This is still plenty of evidence saying that I was right. Leng is unhinged and dangerous. Though, now I know what he's capable of, he loses some of the advantage he had." It was really nothing more than a slight tip of the scales in her favor, but she would take it.
"It only took nearly picking a fight with Pallin," Nihlus murmured.
"Says the Spectre who would have picked a fight with Pallin." Shepard fired back without hesitation as she set her pad back on the coffee table. She would not let Nihlus get away with being a pot calling the kettle black there.
Garrus chuckled, but said nothing, his eyes never leaving his datapad.
Shepard slumped into the back of the couch, crossed her arms, and hummed. Now that she had what she wanted from the autopsy, how was she going to use that knowledge?
The next two days were a hectic affair for all the wrong reasons. The first day more-so than the second, as Shepard found herself on pins and needles just waiting for that final pieces to fall into place. Meanwhile she took the time to get her house in order. There was a myriad of background tasks that had gone undone because she was too busy fending off Lindholm's machinations. She had even let some of the routine reports linger on her desk, un-reviewed and unsigned. Not that anyone on board particularly faulted her. Her department heads took up the slack with aplomb.
Adams and the engineers would keep the ship ready without her nodding and smiling in the background. Doctor Chakwas, more than anyone, knew that sometimes paperwork ended up pushed back in order to keep someone sane. Matthews said that since they were operating on nearly fully stocked food supplies, he would not even have to start getting creative for two weeks, let alone a few days. Nevertheless, Shepard put priority on the galley lists, because nothing demoralized a crew quite like going hungry.
Only after she got through the supply form backlog could she turn to her emails. At the top of the list was a considerably lengthy one from Admiral Hackett. Half of it was an update. He congratulated her on becoming a Spectre and confirming that she was officially keeping command of the Normandy. He went on to add that the brass and the Parliament was alternating between celebrating and despairing at the dawning realization that she was now mostly out of their control, with some more one or the other. Hackett mentioned that he himself really could not order her around anymore either, but he would like it if they could continue to cooperate on more equal footing.
The other half turned to business. Hackett explained that he had gotten in touch with Colonial Affairs, and they were working on putting her in touch with the right people on Eden Prime, though it could take a few days. The company representatives were simultaneously dragging their feet and trying to appear helpful. Attached to the email were two contacts the Hackett wanted Liara to sign. One was an employment contract, and the other a strict and binding non-disclosure agreement regarding the Normandy, in case Shepard needed to keep Liara on hand as part of the crew. Underneath the explanation Hackett mentioned his suspicion that Colonial Affairs were going to get sick of all the extra work she kept making them do. That part was obviously said in jest.
Shepard's reply essentially affirmed that she understood everything and that cooperation would not be a problem. She did add the note that she really did not expect the Council to trust her with anything they deemed particularly sensitive or important either. They may have conceded to make her a Spectre, but it would still be an uphill battle for them to treat her like one. Parliament would be upset, but that actually worked for her. The other Spectres were at the Council's beck and call at any given moment, but she paradoxically ended up with enough free time to pursue other matters. The Council would realize the minor oversight in time, but until then, she would roll up her sleeves and get to work.
The next email to arrive was from her mother. In it, Hannah revealed that the news had hit the Kilimanjaro like a tidal wave, sweeping down the decks so quickly that even the enlisted in the bowels knew within hours. Hannah claimed that some had even tossed a few quick celebrations in the mess halls. Shepard suspected that was not even hyperbole. The crew of any ship would use any convenient reason to toss a party, and the Kilimanjaro's crew loved their captain on top. Hannah signed saying that even though Shepard was technically above her now, Hannah still claimed motherly precedence. Shepard took to mean that her mother reserved the right to be nosy. In her reply she thanked her mother, there was very little else to be said to that gushing email.
The third email was from Captain Anderson. He went so far as to congratulate her on surpassing him, but that he was not surprised. To quote him, "if anyone could do it, it'd be a Shepard. You two never take no for an answer." Shepard laughed reading that. It was mostly a jest, but it did contain more than a few grams of truth. She sent back a reply thanking Anderson for his kind words.
The final email that arrived that day, came in the evening, and Shepard was perhaps happier to see it than any of the others. It was a quick note from Wrex, just a few lines, which did not surprise her one little bit. She could not imagine Wrex sitting there, typing away on his omni when he undoubtedly had much to do. Just the idea of Wrex typing on an omni was kind of funny when one thought of it long enough. Still, he was keeping in touch, and that was a good thing. He congratulated her, and then announced that he had a good drink to her honor when he heard. Then he said that his offer of asylum still stood, whether she needed to lay low after killing someone, or now if the Council's varren crap made her want to shoot some stuff. There was always plenty of stuff to shoot on Tuchanka, and some of it would probably even shoot back.
She sent him a reply thanking him, saying that she had a good laugh, and that she would keep his invitation in mind. Then added that she missed him, which was entirely true, and it used her sisterly privilege card for something. Wrex would probably grumble that she was being sappy, but that was the bluster of a big tough Krogan.
The morning after that, with all the paperwork done, and the crew settling into a comfortable waiting routine, she turned to the matter of Eden Prime in earnest. In the end she decided that since Liara was likely not going to be a permanent addition to the crew, they would set up a temporary berth in one of the observation lounges. They could even afford to let Liara choose which.
Shepard also finally managed to get Nihlus and Garrus to do their punishment in the cargo bay. Call her vindictive, but if they thought she would forget, then it was important to put those thoughts to rest. She did relent on her orders to let EDI help them. Of course EDI was on strict orders not to reveal that Shepard had in fact told her to help them. Let them think that EDI was being sneaky on her watch. Odds were that thought would not linger for very long. Garrus would have seen through it.
Halfway through the day, when Shepard was having her lunch with the marines, EDI announced that there was a delivery outside for someone. Before Shepard could say a word, Kaidan practically sprung to his feet and rushed off, leaving them all with raised eyebrows. He came back about twenty minutes later, sheepishly smiling and holding a large box. After a vague explanation of having rush-requisitioned an expensive upgrade kit for his model of hard-suit, he finished his meal with that box between his feet. Ashley asked him if he wanted help installing it, and Kaidan readily accepted the offer. Shepard grinned into her tea, but Jenkins chuckled loudly, causing Kaidan to remind him that he was laughing at a superior officer. Jenkins apologized, but Shepard thought it was not at all sincere, though she did not comment.
It was just before dinner that even when things finally budged. Shepard got a long message from the Alliance Office of Colonial Affairs. Inside was the address of the Sunstone Mining Corporation office in Blackrock and a company contact, complete with email address. She was told that one of the managers had agreed to talk with her, and if need be, put her in contact with some of the miners who had been inside the old mine. Colonial Affairs wanted her to meet with the management and hash out the rest on her own. Only then could they step in and arrange for archeological teams to arrive on site.
Shepard sent back a reply saying that the arrangement worked for her, and thanking them for the contact information. It was little more than a receipt to say that she had gotten the message. All the while her mental gears churned. She was utterly unsurprised that the archeologists would be waiting for her to find them a digging site. If she was honest, she did not want a lot of civilians running around underfoot. This whole venture was grasping in the dark, at straws, and hoping to find a needle.
After that, she sent a quick message to the email she received, mostly just to introduce herself, and mention that she had been referred by Colonial Affairs. She also requested a moment of their time in the next couple days, since she would be arriving in person soon. In the interest of not scaring them too much, or too soon, she signed off with her Alliance rank, not the fact that she was a freshly-minted Spectre. Nothing would send the suits running for the hills faster than a whiff of that.
Her final email that day was to Liara, to say that she had what she needed, and included the location code of the spaceport where the Normandy was berthed. Then she prepared the main contracts and finally made a few important announcements to her crew before turning in for the night.
On the third full day on the Citadel, Shepard had just gotten through breakfast when EDI announced that they had visitors on the gangway. She was utterly unsurprised to see Liara, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, pushing a dolly with three large mass-effect-core suitcases on it, escorted by the bemused Citadel Security officer who was normally keeping an eye on the dock premises.
The officer only confirmed that Liara was indeed an expected guest, and walked off to return to his post. After that, Shepard walked Liara through the bureaucratic things. The archeologist was all to eager to sign the two contracts offered. She even made Shepard eat even more humble pie by saying, "Commander, I'd have to be born yesterday to think that the Thanix is the only thing you conceal." Someone else would have gotten kind of tired of all the humble pie, but Shepard chose to view it as karmic comeuppance for all the questionable stunts she had recently pulled.
After that Shepard spent about two hours settling Liara in. Most people came by to introduce themselves and to satisfy their curiosity. Liara took one look at the back aft half of the portside lounge, and called dibs. Then Donnelly came by, partly to gawp at the asari, much to Gabriella's annoyance, and partly to install what he called a tasteful addition to the lounge, the rail for a removable privacy curtain. Say what Gabriella would about Donnelly's sometimes questionable comments, but that was still thoughtful.
Only once all that was done, and things had settled down, did Shepard have the moment to check her email that morning. Predictably she got a reply from the mining company manager, someone by the name of Sophia Waters. She mentioned that she would meet Shepard during business hours, and attached a full timetable for reference. The message was cool, entirely professional, but it did its job. After making sure that everything was settled, the crew was accounted for, all deliveries had been received, and the Normandy was operating at peak efficiency, she ordered Joker to point them toward Eden Prime. Their return to Eden Prime was officially a go.
There was just one relay jump from the Widow system in the Serpent Nebula to the Utopia system within the Exodus Cluster. Thus the Normandy made transit from the Citadel to entering orbit over Eden Prime in a few short hours. Some dark nether reach of Shepard's mind had been expecting a distress call to greet them once they emerged from the relay, but no, all was quiet. Shepard was beginning to think Nihlus was right, she could not relax, and it was starting to exacerbate her paranoia.
As the Normandy made orbit, she emerged from the OD and was utterly unsurprised to see the gathering on the CIC. Clustered around the central console were Kaidan, Adams, Nihlus, and surprisingly Liara. There was also the usual group of enlisted at their monitoring stations.
"Commander," Kaidan greeted calmly.
"At ease people," Shepard replied as she moved to the head of the big CIC console. "Joker, did you start on the docking authorizations yet?" Shepard ordered.
"Way of ahead of you, Commander." the pilot replied over the internal comm.
Shepard did not say it, but she thought it. Joker seemed awfully happy saying that. Maybe a bit too happy, but whatever. She stared at the CIC console. Eden Prime looked perfectly pleasant on the projection. EDI was clearly mapping things as she went. Some dots indicated low orbit comm satellites to avoid, others space craft maintaining some orbit. There was even a passenger transport executing pre-entry counter-burn maneuvers. All in all the map was the picture of a typical, unremarkable day.
"I announced us, and was told that that we can make entry whenever we wish as long as we avoid an equatorial vector. They have grain elevations scheduled out of Constance in half an hour." Joker went on.
"Blackrock is at twenty degrees north latitude, so I think we're good." Shepard said. "Yea, we don't want to get hit by a grain hopper." She was not surprised that they were told to get out of the grain's way, not the other way around. Orbital elevations like these were done by attaching multiple grain pods to a massive, unmanned reusable booster. It would go up to a set elevation and accelerate, seemingly to orbit, only to release the pods and then counter-burn to make re-entry while the pods remained in orbit, awaiting pickup.
"Yea… well, I also looked at the place where we need to go… and we are going to have to be careful where we land." Joker said.
"What do you mean?" Shepard asked.
"They don't have a spaceport, never mind a proper landing pad large enough for the Normandy." Joker explained. "And you know… making atmo, the hull is going to get pleasantly toasty, and we have those thrusters… and Blackrock is surrounded by all that lovely, perfectly flammable forest. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like becoming the reason the town's name changes to Charcoalbriquette."
Shepard had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from grinning. She did not want to look like she approved of this comedy routine.
"That would be a disaster, and your pilot is making Jokes?" Liara asked.
"It's more of a… illustrative exaggeration." Shepard replied. That was the other hurdle of having someone new on board. They did not know that the Normandy's crew, badass though they may be, was also unbelievably eccentric to say the least.
"Yea… a bit of absurdity to highlight the obvious."
"I see." Liara murmured, sounding obviously unsure. "It must be a human thing. I don't have a lot of experience dealing with that particular type of humor."
"No one has any experience dealing with that particular type of humor," Nihlus said as he crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight.
"Most can't even tell if it is humorous," Kaidan deadpanned.
"Hey!" Joker protested. "I heard that, Alenko, and I know where you sleep!"
Adams cleared his throat loudly. "Joker may be being… irreverent, but he is right. We cannot land in the middle of a forest. The Normandy is not a Kodiak." His quite calm tone effectively doused the CIC for the moment.
"Why not keep the Normandy in orbit?" Nihlus asked.
That was a perfectly good question, and normally it would have been easier, but this was really not a normal situation. "We'll be here for a few days, and I rather not camp from a Kodiak, besides… so far as we can tell, nothing says we should not." Shepard explained.
"Fair enough. It is your ship, Shepard." Nihlus replied.
"Got any options for us?" Shepard asked. It was a blanket question for both EDI and Joker.
"There is a rocky beach on the same body of water as the town, some fifty kilometers away. It will be a bit tight and the water will probably lap against our rear landing struts, but there is nothing flammable there as far as I can tell. Also, I know I can make that landing." Joker said.
"Still a commute, but… better." Shepard murmured. "EDI, run some detailed scans. I want to be sure that there is nothing on that beach that we shouldn't land on."
"Right away, Commander," EDI replied.
It was a good three hours before the Normandy's landing struts touched the surface of Eden Prime. The weather was picture perfect for a landing, sunny with a very slight breeze and just a few fluffy clouds overhead. The beach they landed on was covered in countless dark, rounded stones and even more dark-colored sand, with hardly anything that would burn in the wash of the Normandy's thrusters. It helped that Joker landed perpendicularly, thus the Normandy's searing hot nacelles ended up partly submerged and the waves lapped against the rear hull. That still left plenty of room at the front to deploy a Kodiak.
The delay between their arrival and the landing also meant that they had not surprised anyone. In fact, even before the Normandy had settled down, EDI notified them of the approach of a wheeled all-terrain vehicle from the direction of town. Then, as soon as the ship settled on its struts Shepard went down to the shuttle bay to greet their visitors, taking Nihlus and Liara with her.
By the time they got there, the shuttle bay ramp was down and the car had driven onto the beach proper, stopping some twenty to thirty meters away from the Normandy's shadow. The car's three occupants had already emerged, but they were not coming any closer.
At the lead was a woman in her thirties, dressed in a dark grey pant suit with a crisp white shirt, its collar still done up, with her black hair pulled up into a tight French twist. Standing next to her was a younger dark-haired man in a lighter grey suit, holding a mobile terminal under his arm. The third man, who had been driving, was both taller and older than both of them, wearing more casual black pants, boots, and a plaid-print shirt that had patches of artificial leather on the elbows.
Given that they had driven fifty kilometers, which would have taken at least an hour in the absence of a paved road, the rigid severity of the woman's dress stood out to Shepard. She also did not look particularly impressed with anything she was seeing. If this was the Sophia Waters who agreed to meet her, then Shepard knew she was in for at least a bit of uphill hiking to get what she wanted.
Shepard met the woman's gaze across the distance between them, and held it for a long moment. It rapidly became obvious that the three of them would not come closer, it was up to Shepard to make the approach.
"Feel free to be as forceful as you would like, Shepard," Nihlus murmured.
"For their sake, they best hope I don't have to get… forceful." Shepard replied as she started on her way down the ramp. Some length down, she became acutely aware of the warmth still radiating from the Normandy's underbelly. Maybe that was the reason why the civilians were wary of coming closer. At least, she chose to chalk it up to that. Anything else would irritate her.
"Hello," She called out, affecting good cheer, as soon as she was about five meters away from the group.
"Commander Shepard, I presume?" The woman replied.
No greeting, the power plays were starting already. "Yes." Shepard replied.
"I am Sophia Waters, we talked via email." The woman went on, without so much as offering a hand-shake, and then her eyes slid past Shepard.
Shepard bit back her grin, she had been right, again. "This is my partner, Spectre Nihlus Kryik, and Doctor Liara T'Soni. She is an archeologist and graciously agreed to help me."
"I see," Sophia replied.
It was like the woman's tone could not move past bland and disinterested. The lack of any enthusiasm made Shepard wonder. Had the mining company sent Waters here, out on an hour-long drive, just be to tell them to turn around and go home without even stepping one foot in town? Not that Shepard was going to take that sort of brush off from a bunch of suits. She had Spectre credentials, and if need be, she would use them.
"You mentioned you wanted access to the closed mine to look for Prothean ruins, but… let me assure you, Commander, if there were any ruins inside that mine… our company would have reported them to Colonial Affairs." Sophia went on, her tone growing even colder.
Shepard stepped closer, "With all due respect, Miss Waters… I have a good reason to suspect there is something inside that mine that was yet to be discovered. Moreover Colonial Affairs knows about it, and I was tasked with doing a preliminary survey before reporting back. If there is anything in there, I will find it, and Colonial Affairs will take it from there."
"That is all very good, Commander. But, may I remind you that Sunstone Mining Corporation has full rights to everything inside that mountain range. If you do not tell us what you are looking for, we do not have to allow you access. We have the right to conduct our own thorough survey. I will go over your head to remind Colonial Affairs of that."
Shepard smiled, a gesture that caught the woman by utter surprise. "Then I suggest you get a step ladder, Miss Waters. You'll have to go a little higher than just Colonial Affairs to stop me from going in there. The Council knows about my sources, and I'm sure they'll be happy to remind the Sunstone Mining Corporation of the agreement made with the Earth Systems Alliance a couple decades ago. The agreement not to withhold Prothean discoveries for private profit. Shall I go notify them? As the first human Spectre, I do have a direct link." That was a bit of a bluff, she doubted the Council would just jump to the task of doing anything for her, but this woman did not know that.
Sophia stared up at her, and her eyes widened ever so slightly, betraying the faintest hint of her shock.
Shepard waited, she could practically see the gears in the woman's head grind. As the seconds ticked, Nihlus' warm hand landed on her shoulder.
"I suggest you do not test us, Miss Waters." He rumbled, deep and vaguely threatening. "You do not want to test Spectres."
Shepard tried not to smile. Nihlus was doing his best Saren impression again. Truly she ought to thank Saren for helping her, even by proxy. He would probably get a real kick out of that. That is, if he did not murder her where she stood for the cheek.
"Very well." Sophia declared after a long pause.
It was a concession if there ever was one, and the woman seemed about as pleased to utter those words, as she would be pleased if she had swallowed glass.
"You mentioned that you need one of our employees to show you around," she went on and motioned to the man in the plaid shirt, "Mister Fenton once worked inside. Sam, the plans."
"Yes, ma'am." The other company man turned and made his way back to the truck.
However Shepard did not have long to watch him as the man in the plaid shirt stepped forward, smiling, "Carl Fenton, at your service. As Miss Waters said, I worked inside the old mine and I'm willing to be your guide. But I'll say this now… you're going to need breathing apparatus. I don't know how much oxygen is left in the deeper sections. The mine's ventilation system has been offline since it closed."
"That's fine, Mister Fenton, our armors can supply us with breathable air."
"Good." Sophia murmured. "My assistant is going to bring up the tunnel plans for you. I assume you will want copies for your personal use, yes?" Sophia asked.
"That'd be helpful, yes." Shepard replied, trying to sound far friendlier than she felt. What was that 'Good' about? Was Sophia simply happy that she would not have to authorize rebreathers for the rest of them? Did the company have to be so obvious about the blatant if inept sabotage? Would it kill them to cooperate, for once in their lives?
"Miss Waters, I have the plans!" the assistant called.
By then he had set the mobile terminal on the vehicle's hood and opened it up.
"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" Carl asked cheerfully.
The discussion was brief and to the point, and Shepard learned more than she revealed. Sophia watched the entire conversation like a hawk, and asked many rather uncomfortable questions. Still, there was little the corporates could do other than take whatever Shepard chose to give them, and the woman must have known that.
Carl Fenton proved to be quite the talkative fellow, and despite all the time that had elapsed from the last time he had been down in the old mine tunnels, his memory was still sharp. He immediately pointed out where the accident that closed the mine had occurred. Then he talked about other notable features. He remembered three sections that had more lodestone than any other, and that all of them were where the rock grew harder, requiring more explosives compared to the rest. Shepard noted those facts on her own copy of the tunnel map, and would have asked more questions, but could not, because of the watchful eye of the corporates.
After the preliminary meeting they made arrangements for the trip into the mine. Shepard intended to use Kodiaks to fly in. Carl suggested that they could use the old ore holding yard in front of the mine. He would gather some needed supplies and bring them along in time for a meeting. They set the time, making sure it worked for everyone. Then, having said the goodbyes, Shepard watched as the colonists climbed back into the truck for the drive back into town.
The vehicle was a hundred meters away, just coming up to the dirt road that led away from the beach when Shepard turned to Nihlus and Liara. "Did you two notice that the lodestone-rich sections Fenton mentioned were all very deep inside the mine, not near the surface, and the faces they were in were arranged in a semi-circle pointing in the same direction?" She asked.
"Yes!" Liara said. "The ore is probably responding to the magnetic fields of the core deeper inside."
Shepard nodded and smiled.
"You think the ore is actually pointing us in the right direction?" Nihlus asked.
"Has to be. I think the miners might have been coming close on the Ark without realizing it. It makes sense to build a huge permanent shelter where the surrounding rock is stable. What's more stable than deep in the mountain, where the rock grows dense?"
Nihlus hummed but said nothing.
"Commander, if I may?" Liara spoke up.
"Sure, I'll welcome any input."
"It might be possible to confirm this theory. We need ore samples from the different locations, record how we found them, and then then figure out how the geometry of their individual magnetic field lines. If there is an artificial power core inside the mine, it may just align the field lines of the ore to point at it."
"It might be something to try, before we power up any boring drill, or anything." Shepard murmured.
"Definitely!" Liara jumped in. "I'm no geologist, but I know a little bit about the application of geology in archeology. The surrounding features of a dig site can tell us much. Deposited ground layers can be used to date sites, but it can also contain clues to what destroyed a site, or even how it was used." Liara explained as she bent down to scoop up a handful of the dark stones that covered the entire beach.
"Wouldn't hurt to try." Shepard finished.
Liara straightened, smiled, and nodded. "I want to try the test on these first. It should not take long and I have the equipment I need in my kit."
"I do not think we will need to drill anything." Nihlus declared. "The Protheans had to enter the facility somehow. We just need some indication of the right direction, and then check the tunnels that head there. Maybe there is something the miners missed."
"Also possible," Shepard nodded. "Well, no use standing around… we have some preparations to do for tomorrow." With that said she turned and made her way back to the Normandy.
When Shepard came up to the crew deck she asked EDI to summon the whole combat team to the mess area to discuss the forthcoming mission. Seeing as the majority were already on deck three, Shepard did not have to wait long, and it took almost as little to explain why they were on Eden Prime and then what they would be doing. "None of this is the typical Spectre fare… but who else could get it done? I am the only individual who knows about these… arks," Shepard finished.
"I don't know about you, but I think this beats being shot at," Jenkins said.
"He does have a point," Kaidan agreed.
Shepard honestly thought the whole thing was a milk run, but after the last couple of weeks she would not complain. In the grand scheme of things, spelunking in a mine was a vacation compared to dealing with Lindholm. "Which does bring up… I haven't decided who I want to bring with me. Obviously Doctor T'Soni will be with us-"
"You are not leaving me behind," Nihlus said.
Shepard raised an eyebrow at him, did he honestly think that she had not realized that he would continue to shadow her? Now she only needed her other shadow to volunteer.
"Shepard-Commander, we offer our assistance," Legion spoke up from the back.
Shepard blinked, Legion had beat Garrus to volunteering? Well that was interesting. If she was at all honest, she had been inclined to ask Legion to come along. After all, they could probably feel and follow any sufficiently powerful artificial magnetic field. Better to have a plan B if plan A fell through. "Will you be alright in there? It is an iron mine with a high incidence of natural magnetic lodestone. We don't know how strong the magnetic fields are in there."
"This platform is sufficiently shielded for this operation," Legion replied.
"Alright Legion, you're in." Shepard was not going to argue.
"I think I want to come too." Kaidan spoke up. "It's a mine, I'm biotic, and no offense meant Doctor T'Soni, but I've worked with this team longer."
"Oh no offense taken," Liara replied with a wave of her hand.
"Thanks, Kaidan." Shepard grinned, but then glanced toward Garrus. He really was not going to volunteer? "We'll be joined by one of the miners who had worked down there previous. So if we need to operate any equipment, he ought to be able to do it. Joker, that means you're in charge of the Normandy while we're gone."
"You got it," the pilot replied with a cocky grin flashing from underneath the bill of his ballcap.
Eden Prime having a sixty-four hour rotational period meant that the day and night cycle was completely divorced from the Terran Coordinated calendar. The start of the next day on the Normandy coincided with early evening on Eden Prime. Utopia was still a few hours from touching the horizon, but it was already low enough to elongate shadows and give everything a slightly more orange tint. Shepard spent the fifteen minute flight in the Kodiak's cockpit with Nihlus. With no urgency she allowed herself to do some light goldbricking, just admiring the dense forest and the vista of the Whistling Mountain growing closer with every second.
When their Kodiak arrived at the old yard in front of the mine, Shepard was somewhat surprised to see two wheeled pickup trucks already there. Both looked like they have not been washed in weeks. One clearly had equipment in the back, while the other came with a large bed-mounted generator. The drivers of the vehicles were next to the equipment car. Carl Fenton was leaning on the hood, smoking a cigarette, his casual clothing replaced with sturdy boots and overalls, including knee and elbow pads with a full torso safety harness. The other man was also about his age, brown hair just starting to show signs of grey, and clad in similar overalls with similar gear, and was studying something on his omni-tool.
As the shuttle touched down, raising a sizable dust cloud in the process, both men straightened. Carl smothered his cigarette against the side of the vehicle and stuck the rest into a top pocket for later. The other man allowed his omni-tool to turn off.
Shepard opened her seat harness and moved to the back. With two taps of the keys next to the door she had it opening, and she slipped out as soon the opening was wide enough for her. By then both men were within a few meters of the shuttle.
"Commander!" Carl called as soon as he saw her. "Hope you don't mind, but I brought my friend along, figured two is better than one."
"You won't hear me protesting," Shepard replied. "I'm Commander Shepard, SSV Normandy." She offered the other man a hand to shake.
He took it enthusiastically, though he did not squeeze. "Denis Benoit. I worked with Carl inside that mine, and figured if he was going to go back in there, it'd be best I come too."
"The more the merrier," Shepard replied.
His dark brown eyes slid past her shoulder and less than an instant later he froze solid, dropping her hand.
Shepard knew that he must have seen the others, and that was her cue. "Please allow me to introduce my team."
"Hello again, Mister Fenton, hello Mister Benoit." Liara greeted as she stepped off the shuttle.
"This is Doctor Liara T'Soni, Prothean expert and archeologist," Shepard slipped in.
"Told you they're big shots," Carl said to his friend.
Denis nodded mutely. Shepard was keenly aware of the fact that his eyes never once strayed to Liara. They were still locked on the shuttle behind her.
"The others are my partner, Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik, Lieutenant Alenko, and Legion." Shepard went on.
"You have a synthetic unit?" Denis asked, surprised.
"Legion is…" Shepard stopped there, did she want to say that Legion was a Geth?
"This unit is designated as Legion. We are a terminal of the Geth." Legion stepped in.
Both men took a step back so quickly that Shepard almost missed it between blinks. Yes, Legion had just stepped on a metaphorical bomb. Admitting they were Geth was about the wrong to say. Except the cat was now out of the bag. "Don't worry, they're friendly." What were the odds that the miners would take her on her word? "Legion has very sensitive sensory. They can help me find what I think is in there." She flicked her hand in the vague direction of the mountain, hoping a change of topic coupled with movement would distract the civilians.
It seemed to do the trick as the two men exchanged looks. Denis stared at him with the unspoken question still audible to everyone there. Carl shrugged, stuck his hands into the pockets of his pants, and turned to Shepard. "Something tells me you would not need sensors of that sort if you were looking for just any old ruins."
Shepard smiled, well that was an obvious conclusion to make, was it not? "You're right. I did not want to mention this around Miss Waters, but I have a reason to suspect there might be a Prothean facility of some sort in there. I'm looking for the magnetic field of a decaying power core."
"Like the Mars ruins?" Denis asked.
"Similar, yes." Shepard replied. They did not need to know off hand that instead of laboratories and extensive archives, this one might contain thousands of stasis pods. Nor that the odds were not zero that some might still be functional.
"Well hot damn, that would explain that place's oddities, wouldn't it?" Carl announced as he looked at his friend again.
"It explains them a little too well, I think," Denis agreed, more grimly.
"Miss Waters is going to be mighty pissed that you didn't tell her that part." Carl went on, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and then back again. "But hell if we care, right Denis? They called us crazy when we said there was something… weird in there. If there's something like the Mars ruins in there, then we were right. We'll be the first to see these… that'll be a story for the dinner table."
Denis seemed to be a lot less enthusiastic about the prospect of that. "This is why I'm here, Carl. To keep you from getting ahead of yourself, but alright… let's do this. Hopefully you people brought your helmets." With that said he turned and made his way toward the equipment truck.
Carl watched him go, but then turned back to Shepard, "Don't mind him, Commander. Denis may not be exactly adventurous… but you're in good hands. Now come on! I think I know where we might start looking for that facility."
Author Notes: This new arc gave me grief. I had to sit down and reconcile and set in stone a lot of things. Spoiler now, this arc will lead to a lot of revelations and it will even begin the journey towards answers regarding Harby and Nazzy. The delay was down to me feeling pressured to get it right.
General Notes:
Bad Humor – The Charcoalbriquette exchange was sparked by the quip Joker makes after Therum, about the Normandy landing in lava, and what it would do their hull. Once again, I took the basic core of that exchange, and just transplanted a more fitting context.
Chapter Notes:
Nothing here…