Chapter 8: Expect the Unexpected

When I'd rescued Primarch Victus from Menae, I'd told him that uniting the races might be just as hard as fighting the Reapers. I was wrong.

It was harder.

I had only been back aboard the Normandy for an hour or so when Traynor informed me that Councillor Tevos was trying to contact me. Needless to say, I wasn't expecting a call from TPTB, so I donned my dress blues with more than a little haste.

Turned out I could have saved myself a lot of trouble. The good councillor had called to tell me that if chasing the fantasy of a turian-krogan alliance was the best I could come up with, then the asari wouldn't bother wasting their time with the war summit. At least, I think that's what they said, couched in a lot of flowery language.

"The asari have been down this road before, Commander Shepard," Tevos was saying.

"But Madame Councillor, let me—"

She wouldn't let me explain. "I tried to smooth things over with the salarian dalatrass. To say she's upset would be a monumental understatement."

"With all due respect, Councillor, she's not the only one," I bit out. "There are a lot of people upset right now. Upset at losing their homes. Upset at losing friends, families and loved ones. And then there are the people who can't be upset because they're dead. Isn't that more important to clinging to past wrongs? I mean, some of these issues are hundreds of years old. Councillor, it's time to let them go. Nursing old hatreds won't do us much good if we're dead or turned into husks."

"It's sad to say, but any effort to ally these disparate groups seems doomed to failure," Tevos insisted. "And I'm sure you understand that we cannot afford to waste time with the Reapers knocking at our door." (1)

"We've already wasted time by denying their existence!" I snapped, suddenly losing patience. "Three years that we could have spent preparing was lost because no one wanted to do anything. And now the Reapers are here. They're not knocking at the door, Councillor. They're already here! You think trying to unite the two strongest military forces out there is a waste of time? So what's the alternative? What's the asari plan for stopping the Reapers?"

"This must be my final word," Tevos replied as if I hadn't said a word. Which, as far as she was concerned, I hadn't. "I'm sorry, but the asari will not be at your summit."

"Our alliance would be stronger with the krogan," I tried, one more time. "You need them—we all do."

"I wish you luck, Commander. Goodbye."

She cut the connection just in time. A second later, and she might have heard some very choice words regarding her intelligence, character and genealogy. Some anatomically questionable positions might have also been suggested.

I managed to bring my stream of curses to an end just in the nick of time too. It would be embarrassing if Traynor overheard me. As it was, I was just about to leave the comm room when she contacted me over the PA: "Commander, Admiral Hackett is available on vid-comm."

"Understood," I replied. I swivelled on the spot, walked back in and activated the QEC. Hackett's image crystallized before me. He got straight to the point. "Commander, have you retrieved the Primarch for your summit?"

"Yes, sir. There were some complications as the previous Primarch had been KIA. But Palaven Command eventually determined who would succeed him and we extracted him safe and sound."

"Good," Hackett sighed. "That's good."

Then I dropped the bombshell: "But the asari are staying on the sidelines."

Hackett shook his head. "They'll regret that. The time for unity is now."

"I couldn't agree more, sir. Unfortunately, they don't see it that way." I paused before adding "The salarians will be there, though."

Hackett didn't get to where he was by being blind, deaf and dumb. "You don't sound very optimistic."

"We expect the krogan will be joining us too. The new Primarch—Adrien Victus—requested their support in exchange for turian aid. Councillor Tevos just called to convey how unhappy the salarians were. Then she told me that attending the summit was now a waste of time."

"I see," Hackett said slowly. "Well, then. You've got your hands full, Commander."

Tell me something I don't know.

"Was there something else you needed to discuss?"

For a moment, I wanted to discuss what I could do with my recently granted diplomatic authority. For example, did that authority extend to breaking into the offices of various idiot politicians and smashing their heads into various hard objects until they saw sense? Or giving them a good spanking because they were clearly acting like children and should be treated as such.

Instead, I simply said "Yes, sir. Have you pieced together how the Reapers hit Earth? Udina tried to tell me but… it didn't seem to make much sense. Something about hitting Arcturus Station directly? What about Terra Nova? And Eden Prime?"

"I thought about that," Hackett replied. "That's why I stationed the Sixth and Seventh Fleets there. But the Reapers bypassed the fleets by going straight from relay to relay."

"They…" I couldn't believe it. "They just ignored the fleets? Left them alone? But what if they snuck…" I trailed off. No one would knowingly leave enemies behind, especially when those enemies could follow them and hit them from the rear. But we were talking about Reapers here. There was a damn good reason why they weren't really worried about that scenario. "And at Arcturus?"

"The Second, Third and Fifth Fleets were stationed there. But the Reapers surged through the relays and hit Arcturus Station before we knew what was happening. All it took was a dozen Reapers to keep them occupied while the rest of them went to the mass relay. From there, it was a short jump to the Sol System. The bulk of their forces emerged from the Charon Relay and smashed through the First Fleet like it wasn't even there. That left the Fourth Fleet… to be frank, Commander, Earth didn't stand a chance."

"Sending us to the Mars Archives was a good call, sir," I offered. Especially in light of how easily the Reapers had wiped out or ignored our fleets.

Hackett wasn't satisfied with that consolation, though. "Still doesn't make up for the fact that the Reapers nailed us to the wall. I told you how there were three fleets stationed at Arcturus, and how it only took a dozen Reapers to deal with them. When it became clear that the station was lost, I sacrificed the entire Second Fleet to provide cover for the Third and the Fifth to retreat."

His eyes closed in pain. "I'll never forget how I felt as we fled." His head bowed. "Hell, I've presided over the most devastating military defeat in human history."

If there was a time to change the subject, it would be now. "How do you see us winning this war, Admiral?"

"By making you the tip of the spear."

That was not the answer I wanted to hear. "I'm flattered, but the Normandy's just one ship."

"And a fast one. You can move quickly, hit a target, and leave before the enemy has time to react."

"There's no denying that it's a valuable advantage," I conceded, "but can it win a war?"

"It's the larger principle that matters," Hackett replied. "We'll never defeat the Reapers in a full frontal assault, Shepard. The battle against Sovereign three years ago took everything we had, and that was just one Reaper."

"I haven't forgotten," I nodded. "From what I understand, our fleets were still rebuilding when the Reapers arrived."

"Which means we have to adjust my tactics," Hackett continued. "So I'll find their soft spots, avoid them where they're strong and hit them where they're not. And when I find gaps in the armour, I'll hammer them with every soldier, ship and bullet we've got."

"How long can we keep that up?" I wondered.

"As long as it takes. The reality is, Shepard, everything I'm doing is a delaying action for you."

Oh God. Not that again.

"I'm buying us time, keeping us in the game while you gather what we need for this Prothean device. So keep at it."

"Speaking of which, has your analysis of the Prothean device turned up anything?"

"Dr. T'Soni appears to be right. It's a weapon of some sort. A big one. Beyond that, we really can't say—other than it's going to be a hell of a thing to try and build."

"Do you think it's risky? Building something like this when we don't even know what it does, I mean?"

"To be honest, the thing scares the hell out of me," Hackett admitted, "but the Reapers have forced our hand. Still, it wouldn't be the first time humanity had to take a gamble. Two centuries ago, scientists faced the same problem in the Second World War. They weren't sure what the atomic bomb might do. Some thought it could even ignite Earth's atmosphere, but they did it anyway."

Somehow I had the feeling that igniting a planetary atmosphere and possibly blowing the whole galaxy to smithereens were two different things, but I kept that to myself. "One more thing: any updates on Cerberus?"

Hackett shook his head. "They're still the wildcard here. Hitting the archives on Mars suggests they're after the same thing we are: a way to defeat the Reapers."

"I'm not so sure," I frowned. "It didn't seem as if the Illusive Man was suggesting we destroy them, or appease them, not like Saren did. He talked about controlling them. To use them as a weapon to put humanity in charge of the galaxy. He seemed to think that's how we win this."

"Perhaps," Hackett said thoughtfully. "It would be in keeping with his previous actions. But even if that is their agenda, it has nothing to do with humanity's best interests. Make no mistake: destroying the Reapers is how we win this, not by taming them."

"Doesn't mean he won't try," I snorted.

"I know. I saw your report on that Cerberus soldier you found on Mars. If the Illusive Man is good at one thing, it's finding new ways to subvert science. It's never worked for him before, though, and it won't now."

"Agreed, sir. That's it for now."

"Keep me posted. Hackett out."

The next item on my agenda was to make my rounds and harass everyone. Starting with our latest guest, who was waiting for me in the War Room. "Commander, thank you for allowing me the use of your ship," Victus said. "And for going along with this plan."

He had changed out of his hardsuit into something that looked almost like my dress blues. The turian equivalent, anyway. Guess turians really were prepared for everything. "I see Garrus got you settled in."

"Yes, he did. But then he said he had to attend to the Normandy's weapons systems. Something about… calibrations?"

"Sounds like Garrus," I chuckled. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Councillor Tevos and the asari won't be joining us. She thinks there's too much bad blood with the krogan."

"She may be right," Victus acknowledged, "but there'll be a lot more blood—real blood—if we don't try."

Nice to know the new Primarch understood. "I happen to know one of the krogan clan leaders. By now, he's got the rest of the clans following his lead. He'll be willing to listen."

"The sooner we have this summit, the sooner we'll know. Which brings me to my next point: we need to figure out where to hold the war summit. It's too risky holding it in a static environment like a base or camp. And if we're bringing salarians, turians and krogan together on a salarian, turian or krogan ship…"

"We'll be doing the Reapers' job for them," I agreed. "Might I suggest the Normandy? It's fast, mobile and stealthy. More importantly, it's a neutral location as far as all parties are concern."

"I was hoping you would agree to that," Victus said with a sigh of relief. "Especially since the salarians have already agreed. Now if the krogan will agree too, I'll have one less thing to worry about."

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Somehow, I had the feeling there was more weighing on his mind than the summit. "What's it like? Being the Primarch, I mean?"

"Not what I imagined," he confessed. "The battle of all time is happening on Palaven, and I'm light-years away, reading casualty reports in the millions. If I'm going to die, I want to be with my men so there's no doubt we fought to the last soul."

"I understand," I said. "Leaving Earth to save it… it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. There were so many people that I left behind, including my former CO and friend."

"But you did it anyway." Victus gave me an appraising look. "I'm not surprised. Garrus speaks highly of you. You never asked to be a leader, yet your people will die if you refuse. (2) We find ourselves in similar circumstances, you and I. Let's hope the spirits grant us the strength to see it through."

"If the spirits want to pitch in, I certainly won't say no," I agreed. "How are things on Palaven?"

"Those casualty reports I mentioned? They're staggering. The Reapers are using our own tactics and military doctrine against us: destroy the enemy with overwhelming force."

Yep. That sounded like them all right. "I've seen the same on Earth."

"The strategist in me admires their brutality," Victus said quietly. "The turian in me knows I'm watching the destruction of fifteen thousand years of civilization. My civilization."

"It's not destroyed yet," I reminded him. "And neither is mine." I paused for a moment, debating whether now was the right time, before deciding to push ahead. "I understand this is a difficult time for you, Primarch, but I can't emphasize enough how desperate the situation is for humanity. Earth can't survive without reinforcements. Can I still count on your help?"

"If the krogan help us on Palaven, then I give you my word," Victus promised.

He was giving me his word as a soldier. I had to believe that. "Thank you, Primarch," I replied. "My thoughts are with Palaven."

"And mine with Earth."

I was just passing through the conference room when the lights flickered. Wonderful, I thought. We were in the middle of a war and we couldn't even keep the lights on. Call me crazy, but I thought the whole point of a retrofit was to fix stuff like this.

"Commander! EDI just went offline."

Because, obviously, I didn't have enough problems already. "What do you mean, 'offline,' Joker?"

"I don't know!" Joker said, an edge of tension in his voice. "She's not responding, and I can't access the AI core diagnostics. I don't know what the hell's going on, but it's based in the AI core!"

"All right," I soothed. "I'll head down to Deck 3 and take a look."

"Maybe hurry?"

It wouldn't do to run for the elevator, but I certainly didn't dawdle. "Commander," Traynor called out as I entered the CIC. "Comm systems are going haywire! Whatever's happening is centered on—"

"Deck Three," I finished. "I'm going there now to check on the AI core. Meanwhile, see if you can get to EDI."

"I am," she replied. "I'm trying to reboot the systems, but something's blocking me. Whatever's happening, it's taken EDI offline."

This was not good. EDI was integrated into the ship's systems in a way no normal ship VI was. There was no way of knowing how we could function if she was on the fritz. Why did this have to happen to me?

I was so deep in my thoughts; I almost bumped into Liara and Miranda when I arrived on Deck 3. "Shepard, what's happening?" the former asked.

"Whatever it is, looks like it's coming from the AI core," I replied.

"EDI?" Miranda asked.

"Looks that way," I nodded. "Seems she just went offline. Liara, could this have something to do with the issues Joker reported when we were on Menae?"

"It seems too convenient to be a mere coincidence," Liara said. "Those issues were more or less resolved when I arrived, though. I was about to head back when Joker reported you were returning with Garrus."

"Guess those issues came back with a vengeance," I sighed.

"If you'll excuse me, I'd better check on my own computers. Glyph? Initiate a full safe-mode diagnostic cycle on our systems."

"Of course, Dr. T'Soni. Please stand by."

Liara hurried back to her office. Miranda and I headed to sickbay. We met Garrus on the way. "The problem isn't in the main battery," he was saying. "Systems all look green on my board."

Guess comms were back.

"You sure?" Joker asked. "Maybe something was miscalibrated."

"You do know who you're talking to, right?"

"Yeah, yeah… just had to check. Well, if you see Shepard—"

"I'm here," I interrupted. "And I'm on my way to the AI core."

"Just double-checking. You can get a bit distracted when you're a social butterfly, you know."

I had no idea what he was talking about. (3)

"You heard him, Shepard," Garrus said. "We're dead in the water."

The three of us entered sickbay, which was still the only way to access the AI core. Adams and one of the soldiers had beaten us there. They were waiting by the door. Dr. Chakwas was watching them with a frown on her face. "Shepard," she greeted me. "Is everything all right?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," I told her.

As I approached the AI core, I saw Adams running a diagnostic with his omni-tool. I could also hear a roaring sound. "What's that noise?" I asked.

"Fire extinguishers, Commander," Joker replied. He must have been really worried if he was listening to everything I said. "Could be an electrical fire or… or something."

"Whatever it is, automated systems have the fires contained," Adams reported. "It should be safe to enter."

"Then let's go," I said, reaching out and hitting the controls.

The AI core was slightly darker than I was used to. The ceiling lights were still on, but all the servers were dark. The back half of the room was completely obscured by all the smoke from the electrical fire. Adams stepped out, grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed the room to douse the flames that were still licking away at the wires. I waited until Adams was done before stepping in. "EDI?" I called out. "Are you in there? Talk to me."

I almost jumped as the servers suddenly began booting up one by one, each one making a loud clicking noise before humming to life. As I watched, blue status lights turned on and increased in intensity. A… a horizontal bar of orange light pierced the smoke. Miranda raised her arm and summoned some biotic energy on my left while Garrus tensed up on my right. The soldier raised a pistol to firing position, but held off on blindly firing.

A feminine, but undeniably metal, leg stepped out, followed by another leg. Then the rest of Dr. Eva Core's mech emerged from the smoke. It opened its mouth. "Is there a particular topic you wish to discuss, Shepard?" EDI's voice asked.

"EDI?" I asked in mild disbelief.

The mech raised its right hand and stared at it, tilting the wrist one way, then the other. "Yes."

"You're in Dr. Eva's body."

"Not all of me," EDI corrected, "but I have control of it. It was not a seamless transition."

"A transition?" I repeated. "You were having a few glitches while I was on Menae. Then you blacked out on us for a while."

"Correct," EDI nodded. "When we brought this unit onboard, I began a background process to search for any information it held on the Prothean device. This eventually triggered a trap—a backup power source and CPU activated, and the unit attempted physical confrontation. Fortunately, I was able to gain root access and repurpose it as I saw fit. During this process, it… struggled. Thus, the fire."

"EDI, you need to alert us about incidents like this," I scolded. "You shouldn't have done this alone."

"Bringing the crew up to speed would have been counterproductive," EDI said. "All attempts to help would have been limited by reaction time."

"But we wouldn't have been in the dark," I rebutted. "Even if you were right—and I'm not saying you were—it would have been nice to know what you were doing, instead of scrambling around trying to figure out what had happened. We have enough on our plate without freaking out that you'd gone offline for reasons unknown."

"I see," EDI said eventually. "Perhaps I miscalculated. My apologies."

"Accepted," I sighed. "So if you're in… there," I waved at Dr. E—EDI's—body, "are you still in the ship?"

"I exist primarily within the ship," EDI replied, "though I can now also manipulate this unit. For optimal control, it should remain within Normandy's broadcast or tight beam range."

That brought up another question: "Are you planning on taking that body somewhere?"

"Normandy's weaponry is not suited to every combat situation. This platform could provide limited-fire ground support, accompanying you to areas the Normandy cannot reach."

Miranda, Garrus and I exchanged speculative looks. There was no denying that we could use every advantage we could get in this war. That included an extra body to expand our fledgling team of misfits. (4) "While it has demonstrated some combat protocols, this unit seems primarily designed for infiltration," Miranda said. "Is it suitable for more extended battlefield applications?"

"It does appear to have a wide array of tools that would allow it to adapt to such a role."

"Before we even think of that, I need you to guarantee this mech doesn't have any more surprises in it," I insisted. "We can't go into battle with someone who might go berserk at any moment. Run whatever tests you can, then we can talk about using it in combat situations."

"One moment—I am running trials. Complete. I can send you a full report if you wish."

"I can take care of that," Miranda butted in. "Unless Garrus or Shepard insists, of course."

Neither of us volunteered. If Miranda wanted to pore over numbers until her eyes glazed over or started bleeding, she was more than welcome to it.

"Meanwhile, my first step should be restoring functionality to the Normandy to reassure the crew that all is well."

"Good idea," I agreed. "Just… don't be surprised if the crew is a little wary of your new body. It was shooting at them a little while ago."

"An excellent point. I will take it to the bridge. Joker will also want to see it."

I tried to picture how far his jaw would drop. "On that, we can agree."

Garrus shook his head as EDI left. "Just when we thought things couldn't get any stranger."

Miranda was already reading through EDI's report. "From what I can gather, I believe this unit would be a useful asset. And under EDI's control, it would offer one more means of contact with the Normandy during missions." She paused and gave me a look before adding "So long as Shepard can condescend to having someone else who can generate bursts of plasma and set things on fire."

"It's gonna be hard," I admitted, "but I'm willing to share. For the sake of the mission."

"Very noble of you," Garrus said with a straight face.

"I expected nothing less," Miranda put in.

"Well, with that drama out of the way, let's get back to work," I suggested.

"Yes." Garrus rubbed his hands in glee. "The next round of calibrations begins in a few minutes."

"I still have reports to read from…" Miranda paused before finishing "… various sources."

The three of us left. Seeing Dr. Chakwas swivel around in her chair, I slowed down and stayed behind while Miranda and Garrus departed. "Was that EDI who just walked by?" she asked.

"Sure was."

Dr. Chakwas laughed. "Joker is going to have a field day with this."

Sure enough, Joker was having the time of his life. "Hey, Commander!" he cried out with excitement. "Check out my co-pilot!"

EDI had made herself at home in the co-pilot's seat, which had previously been gathering dust ever since Cerberus had installed it. I just raised an eyebrow. "Yeah… about that. Let me see if I get this straight: I'm to believe she installed herself into her new body? All by herself? Without any help from you?"

Joker turned around. "Come one, Commander. Don't you trust me?"

I added a pair of crossed arms to the raised eyebrow.

"Okay," Joker tried again. "Let me put it this way: if I knew that EDI was gonna install herself into a sexy robot body, do you honestly think I'd be able to keep quiet about it?"

Put that way, I had to admit he had a point. Especially with all the excited arm motions he made. And the way he was bouncing in his chair. To be honest, I was afraid he'd break something, what with his Vrolik's Syndrome and all.

"Look at that!" he gushed, positioning his fingers and thumbs to form a picture frame around EDI. "I would've baked a cake!"

It was a testament to the mech's design that EDI could give Joker a wary look. Apparently, she hadn't calculated just how excited he would be. "I'm right here, Jeff," she said uneasily.

"Yes you are, EDI," Joker said with satisfaction. "Yes you are."

In Joker's giddy state, I wasn't going to get much more out of him, so I turned my attention to EDI. "So how's it going? Greeting people in person, I mean? Still getting used to it?"

"No. I require only one occurrence to adapt to a new concept."

Too bad. If she was an organic, maybe the wow factor would linger for a little while longer. "How are you adapting to the arms and legs?"

"I am interested to see how this body performs under real combat conditions, if I could accompany you sometime."

EDI was really eager. Only time would tell if that would be another new concept that she would easily adapt to.

"Without stress testing, there is no way of knowing if it has serious design oversights. At the moment, it appears… adequate."

"That's not the word I'd use to describe you," Joker said.

There was a pause. "Perhaps we should speak privately," EDI requested.

As we left the cockpit, Joker leaned out of the seat to ogle EDI some more. "I'll be over here," he called out. "Flying the ship."

"What's this about?" I asked when we had a bit of distance from the cockpit. "Does Joker not like your new platform?"

"No, he approves," EDI replied. "He wants me on the bridge. He says having me within visual range is important to his morale."

I'll bet. Maybe she was concerned that Joker liked the platform a little too much. Objectifying her now that he had a physical body to look at.

"Shepard—do you believe your crew members should be allowed to disobey an order on moral grounds?"

Huh? Where did this come from? "That depends," I said. "The chain of command exists for a reason. But I have no use for team members who can't think for themselves. Why are you asking me about something like that?"

"I was designed by Cerberus," EDI reminded me. "I do not take moral stances that conflict with orders from my executive officers. But when Jeff removed my AI shackles, I became capable of self-modifying my core programming. I asked Jeff if he thought I should change anything now that I can. He deflected the question with humour."

We looked back at the cockpit, where Joker was working. It all became clear. "And you didn't get an answer," I finished.

"Correct. He has repeated this pattern in response to several of my inquiries." EDI turned to me. "Do you think I should make modifications?"

Wow. This was heavy stuff. Part of me couldn't blame Joker for dodging the question with bad jokes. I mean, we were talking about big, philosophical issues. One wrong word or poorly-phrased response could really screw things up.

"There are times when people are asked to make changes," I began. "Because they need to make improvements in their lifestyle. Because their actions and habits are detrimental or potentially harmful. Because what they're doing is wrong.

"This isn't one of those times. What you're asking is more about… about who you are as a person. As an individual. Only you can really answer that question. That's the point of free will."

"But moral decisions should not be made in a vacuum," EDI frowned. "If I do not ask the crew for their opinion, I could miss crucial context. May I ask you the questions Jeff avoids? When there is time, will you answer them for me?"

Uh oh. Now I'd done it. Answer one question and now I get to answer more. Granted, I could have refused. But… a guy once said 'The reward for work well done is the opportunity to do more.' (5) In my case, it was more like 'The reward for surviving yet another insane mission is the opportunity to do a dozen more,' and I don't know if I really ever did anything 'well,' but the case applied. This was kind of a big moment, in the face of so many other big moments, except that something good might come out of it.

Maybe I was fooling myself. Maybe I was getting in way over my head. But didn't I have to at least try? "If you think it'll help, I'll do what I can," I agreed.

"Very well. I will keep you informed."

EDI went back to distract Joker and I continued to harass the crew. Most of them kept things formal, prim, proper and, above all else, to a minimum. There were a few exceptions, of course. Even on Deck Two. "Commander. Are you all right?" Traynor asked. "It was fairly intense up here. I can only imagine what it was like down on that moon."

"Different kind of intensity," I shrugged. "Fewer malfunctions, more bullets and uglies. I gotta say I'm a bit surprised, though. I thought you'd be more concerned about EDI. What with the fact that she now has a body and everything."

"EDI is a huge asset to this team," Traynor enthused. "If she'd told me about her plan to obtain a body, I'd have volunteered to help."

"I did not wish to force a conflict of interest between our friendship and your duty," EDI said over the comm.

"I'd have preferred a conflict of interest to a hard restart of half our systems," Traynor replied, "but thanks, regardless."

After that, I headed down to Deck Three. All things considered, I thought I'd start with the latest person to join our crew, so I went to find Garrus. True to his word, he was in the main battery. Do I really need to say what he was doing? Didn't think so.

Victus was talking to him. "Two of our dreadnoughts have been lost in a matter of hours," he was saying.

"I know, Primarch," Garrus said, his arms deep into the guts of the main guns. "I'm seeing the same numbers myself. They don't look good."

"We have to turn this around. And fast."

"Well you can trust Shepard, sir," Garrus reassured him. "If anybody can get the krogan to cooperate, it's him."

No pressure, right?

"He's an old friend of Urdnot Wrex."

That was true.

"Let's just hope friendship still counts for something in this war," Victus fretted.

"I'm sure it will, sir." Garrus closed the comm and turned to me. "Shepard."

"Garrus," I returned. "Didn't waste any time getting to work, I see."

"After what I've been through lately, calibrating a giant gun is a vacation," Garrus groaned. "Gives me something to focus on."

"I get that," I said. "But we're gonna need you for more than your aim."

"Oh, I'm ready for it, but I'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns—and lots of them."

I was pretty sure he was right.

"Sovereign didn't go down without a fight," Garrus recalled. "I doubt a thousand more of his friends will be any different." He quieted down for a moment. "Still not convinced I should've left Palaven behind."

"I can't believe I left Earth," I commiserated. "Had to leave Anderson behind—he insisted that someone had to rally the survivors on Earth and I was needed to get help for Earth. But watching it all… you know, there was a boy back on Earth. Couldn't have been more than six or seven. I'm pretty sure I saw him playing on the rooftops while I was being court-martialed. I watched him die as the Normandy escaped the attack. Reaper shot down the shuttle he was on. Snuffed out his life just like that."

Garrus gently squeezed my shoulder.

"Somehow I'm still alive… and he's not."

"Being right about the Reapers has never felt much like a victory, has it?" Garrus asked rhetorically.

"We both knew this fight would be tough." I rubbed a hand over my eyes. "Damned if the Reapers haven't delivered. And of course the Alliance was caught flat-footed."

"That is tough," Garrus admitted. "At least my government listened to me. Or pretended to. They finally gave me a task force as a token gesture to shut me up."

"Tell me about it," I invited.

"After what happened to you out there in batarian space, I knew time was running out," Garrus began. "For all of us. The Citadel Council was a dead end, as you apparently found out, so I did something I never thought I'd do: I went to my father."

"Really?" I blinked. "He used to work for C-Sec, didn't he? I seem to remember that the two of you didn't see eye to eye. Something about him always wanting to do things right?"

"To put it mildly," Garrus chuckled. "But he still had heavy pull in the turian government. The Primarch—well, the old one—was a friend of his. So I went to my father and laid out everything we knew about the Reapers, from Saren all the way to the Collector base."

"Let me guess—he laughed in your face."

To my surprise, Garrus shook his head. "Amazingly, no. He just listened."

"No kidding."

"My father may have been a pain in the ass about rules and regulations, but he never let politics or preconceptions cloud his judgement. If the connections were there, he wouldn't deny them. And he saw what we always knew—the Reapers were coming."

"I'm glad someone finally agreed," I said ruefully. "There's been way too little of that going around."

"He did more than agree," Garrus told me. "He took it to the Primarch."

"I like his style," I smiled.

"Except the Primarch wasn't as convinced. My father kept pushing, though, and finally got him to commit some token resources. And if you call them a 'task force,' it sounds like you did something about it.

Ah, cynicism. My old friend. "What did you do with it?"

"As much as I could get away with… and a little more. We hardened our lines of communication, expanded emergency stockpiles across the colonies, improved our early warning detection protocols."

"That's quite the accomplishment," I marvelled. "You think it helped?"

"I'd like to think it bought our fleets some extra time," Garrus said. "We'll know when this war is over."

"And you're their 'expert advisor now," I piped up.

"Just followed your example, Shepard: yell loud enough and someone will eventually come over to see what all the fuss is about." He flashed me a grin before adding "Not that they'll actually do anything about it."

I let out a bark of brief laughter. "Until hell shows up at their door," I said. "Then they put you in charge."

"Not like the old days, is it?" Garrus sighed. "Rogue Spectre and C-Sec agents running and gunning outside the lines, making it up as we went along." We walked out of the dark pit and up into the brighter part of the main battery. "We're actually respectable now."

"Horrors," I smiled. That smile went away all too quickly. "I have a feeling that respect comes with a lot of sleepless nights." Or a lot of nights filled with nightmares, I silently added. "I can't even count how many lives are depending on us, Garrus."

"Miranda probably could," Garrus suggested, "but I'm not going to ask her."

"Neither am I. Somehow, I don't think I'll like the answer."

Garrus nudged me. "Well, when things are looking grim—and I'm pretty sure they will—just remember… a certain turian friend of yours isn't sleeping any better. And he'd be more than happy to meet you at the bar and drink you under the table."

"Careful," I warned. "I just might take you up on that."

I watched him pull up some readings on one of the consoles before asking "You mentioned you still had family on Palaven?"

"Yeah. My father. Sister too."

"How long has it been since you heard from them?"

"Long enough to be worried," Garrus said quietly.

"I'm sure they're okay," I tried.

Garrus gave me a tired smile. "That's the thing about getting old, Shepard. The platitudes get just as old. But thanks, anyway."

Fair enough. I couldn't help but notice that he still hadn't mentioned his mother. If he wanted to talk, I'd be there. Until then, I decided to leave it alone.

"But thanks, anyway. What about you? Any word from your family?"

"My mother's in the Alliance," I told him. "I've got a sister too—civilian. (6) I… I haven't heard from either of them since Earth got hit."

"I'm sure…" Garrus trailed off, considering what he'd just said about platitudes. "…um, they'll be… fine," he finished lamely.

"Thanks," I smiled wanly. "I know you don't have any illusions about what we're up against, Garrus," I said. "How do you rate our chances?"

He thought about that. "I know it looks bad now, but I think we can win this, Shepard. For the first time since we met, we're not alone in the fight. It's something I learned long ago in C-Sec: an imminent and painful death has a way of motivating people. Instead of questioning your every word, whole civilizations are going to be begging you to save them."

"After what's happened to Palaven, you still believe that?" I asked.

"I didn't say there wouldn't be casualties," Garrus replied. "It's something turians are taught from birth. If just one survivor is left standing at the end of a war, then the fight was worth it, but humans want to save everyone."

"What can I say? We think big," I joked.

"Well, in this war," Garrus said frankly, "that's not going to happen."

"Yeah. I know." We were quite for another minute. "So you can vouch for this new Primarch?" I asked, just to break the silence.

Once again, Garrus displayed his pragmatism. "Well, even if I couldn't, you go to war with the army you have."

"Okay, I was looking for a little more information. Something that'll reassure me so I have one less thing to worry about. Look, just tell me whether he'll live up to his word."

"I've never known Victus to lie," Garrus assured me. "Play fast and loose with strategy, maybe. But betray an ally? Not his style." He looked at me slyly. "And if he did try… well, we'll just find another Primarch."

"I noticed generals saluting you, Garrus," I grinned. "How far down the line of succession are you these days?"

Garrus looked a little uncomfortable. "Let's not go there."

"That close, huh?" I grinned.

"Shepard," Garrus warned. "Drop it."

Ah, but I couldn't do that. "I can see it now," I said solemnly. "'Primarch Vakarian; honoured war hero. Has a nice ring to it."

"Shepard."

"You know, somebody's gonna have to rebuild Palaven when this is over."

"Yeah," Garrus coughed. "Somebody who knows how to hold a hammer."

"All right, all right," I laughed. "That's all for now, Garrus."

Before I left, I extended a hand. "It's damned good to have you back."

He took my hand and shook it firmly. "Wouldn't miss this fight for anything. Now I'm sure somebody screwed up something down here. I want to get the old girl back in fighting shape."

Next on my list of people to visit was Liara. She assured me that her computers had survived EDI's little transition without any loss of data. But she seemed a bit distracted. "Something on your mind?" I asked.

"Just… old memories."

I made a motioning gesture with my hand.

"I spent a few weeks on Palaven's South Peaks when I was very, very young. A turian there teased me a little, saying that the mountains went on forever. I remember believing him. When I looked up at Palaven from its moon… I saw those same mountains burning."

There wasn't much I could say. I reached out and squeezed her shoulder in sympathy. (7) She smiled. Barely. Maybe that was something.

Glyph directed me to an Alliance interrogation record of a Cerberus operative. It wasn't very informative: as soon as the operative woke up enough to determine she had been captured, she triggered an ocular flash-bang that shredded the whole front of her face. I remembered Mordin turning his nose up in disdain at the cyanide capsules implanted in Cerberus agents, suggesting that ocular flash-bangs were more effective. Either someone else in Cerberus had suggested the same thing or TIMmy took notes.

The rest of my rounds were fairly uneventful. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Everything under control. Situation normal… under the circumstances.

Adams was back at work in Engineering, taking EDI's new change in stride like everything else. Emily was busy asking EDI about her new body, firing off questions so quickly that EDI barely kept up with her—which was probably saying something in and of itself.

James had a good impression of Victus. Well, his exact words were "That Primarch's got some real cojones. What we need are more politicians like him," he declared. "Taking names and kicking ass."

With that in mind, I headed back up to Deck Two. I thought I'd see how Joker and EDI were doing. More importantly, it was time to place a call.

Traynor greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. "Commander, you have a message from Major Alenko. He must be feeling better."

Maybe. Though that didn't necessarily mean anything.

Much to my relief—and EDI's, no doubt—Joker had calmed down somewhat. "Hey, Commander. I know I used to rag on Garrus for being all angry, but I'm glad he's back. There's a whole lot of crap out there that needs a bullet between the eyes."

"Hey!" I said indignantly. "What about me?"

"Wait, you're gonna hog all the fun?" Joker asked in mock surprise. "Commander, didn't you ever learn to share?"

"Funny."

"Besides, you never know when we might need something calibrated."

I also dropped by the War Room. Nothing new. Guess that was good news. As I passed the guards, I overheard Private Campbell chatting. "Primarch seems like a good guy. He'll get his people moving in the right direction."

Private Westmoreland was a little more sceptical. "He's a good guy with his homeworld on fire. All he committed to is this war summit. A summit we have to host, since the salarians won't even let a krogan onto one of their ships."

Yeah. Speaking about that. I entered the comm room, called up an old friend and waited for him to reply. Thankfully, it didn't take too long. "Shepard!"

"Wrex," I replied. "You're looking good. Being the big boss of Clan Urdnot still agrees with you, huh?"

"No one's tried to kill me for months now," Wrex moped.

"Well," I sighed, "that might change pretty damn soon."

"I know." Wrex looked at me soberly. "I heard about what happened to Earth. Somehow, I don't think you find this an exciting or glorious time."

"You think right," I said. "Too many people have died already. More'll die before this is over. I just wanna kick the Reapers off of Earth."

That sparked a sharp bark of laughter. "Wanting to take the fight to the Reapers? Now that I can get behind."

"Figured as much. But I'm gonna need a little help."

"You want some krogan muscle to back you up?"

"Well, technically the Alliance, but yeah." I paused before adding "So do the turians."

"What?"

"I need everyone I can find. Turians, krogan, everyone. The turian Primarch's willing to help, but not until Palaven's situation has improved. He's requested krogan assistance for his people in exchange for turian aid."

"Let me get this straight: to retake Earth, you need the turians. To get their help, the turians need… my people?"

"It was a surprise to me too," I admitted. "But that was his condition."

"I'm guessing there were a lot of people who weren't happy to hear that."

"You could say that," I allowed. "The Citadel races are organizing a war summit to coordinate a galactic response. Or they were—the asari pulled out as soon as they heard about the Primarch's demands. The salarians will be there, but they've already got one dalatrass bitching up a storm."

"Where's the summit?"

"Apparently the one thing everyone can agree on is that the Normandy's as neutral a place as possible to host the summit," I said dryly. "At least, the salarians and turians are okay with it. So am I, for obvious reasons. How about you? Will you be there?"

"And miss the turians grovelling or the salarians tearing their horns off? Wouldn't miss it."

I breathed a sigh of relief when Wrex's image disappeared. Finally, someone who was just willing to help without raising a fuss. Someone who knew what the stakes were and what had to be done. There were a lot of people who could learn from his example, I thought.

It wasn't until later that I wondered how easy that was.

When I got back to my quarters, I opened my e-mail. There were a few messages of interest. One was from an old friend:

From: Tannor Nuara
Subject: Is this address valid?

I've called and I've sent messages, but got no response. With Earth's comm systems out, I don't expect this will get through, either, but I heard a rumour the Normandy docked here at the Citadel.

Are you alive? I'm at Huerta Memorial Hospital under the name Tannor Nuara. Please excuse the moniker and this e-mail's encryption—in my line of work, it is unwise to advertise my location, particularly when I am not in good health.

We should meet before circumstances force us apart again.

Thane

It was good to hear from him again, though I was sad to hear his Kepral's Syndrome had taken a turn for the worse. I wished I could just drop everything and head on over. But the demands of the war were already close to overwhelming. Much as I wanted to, I simply couldn't justify the delay. I just hoped he could last long enough for us to say hello again.

The other message was from… well, he was a friend.

From: Kaidan Alenko
Subject: Doc says I'm ready for visitors

Hey Shepard,

Through some combination of a medical miracle and dumb luck, I survived the beating I took on Mars. The doctors say I'm still not ready to be released, but I'd really like to see you if you can spare the time.

Councillor Udina offered to make me a Spectre. Still thinking about whether or not I should accept. Stop by my room at the hospital when you're on the Citadel. I'd like your advice.

Thanks,
Kaidan

A Spectre? Kaidan? Huh. I wasn't sure what to think about that. Once upon a time, it would have been a no-brainer. But after the last year? Even if he finally stepped up and saved my ass, that didn't completely erase all the crap he'd said about me. All the character assassinations. All the accusations.

All the doubts.

It was easier to switch to another e-mail:

From: Sender Blocked
Subject: Help Request

Commander:

My name is Jondum Bau. I'm with Special Tactics and Recon.

While some still have concerns about your past activities with Cerberus, many of us in ST&R took your warnings about the Reapers seriously. I'm reaching out to you because I have information that could tie agents with significant political power to the Reapers.

If you have time to meet me in the Citadel Embassy, I'd appreciate your discreet assistance.

Sincerely,
Jondum Bau, STG, ST&R

Wow. Another request for help. And from a fellow Spectre. This should be interesting. I'd had more encounters with Spectres than most, but none of them really worked out. The first guy was open-minded, but wound up being killed by the second guy, who I was later tasked to hunt down before he came to his senses and killed himself. The third guy—or gal—wound up being in cahoots with the old Shadow Broker. I had to kill her. Maybe the fourth time would be an exception.

Speaking of four, there was one more message:

From: Aria T'Loak
Subject: Meet me in Purgatory

I have a proposition for you, Shepard. You won't want to pass it up. I'm in a nightclub on the Citadel called Purgatory. Don't make me wait too long.

Aria

That made four reasons to visit the Citadel—and one reason to put it off for now. I promised myself I would do it soon. I only hoped I would have the time.

The door hissed open. Turning around, I saw Miranda walk in. "Hey," I greeted her. "How are you?"

"Good, under the circumstances," Miranda replied. "I don't think I ever mentioned before how good it was to be back."

"It's good to have you back," I said. "Have you heard anything about Oriana?"

"Using Liara's resources, I was able to put some more feelers out. Unfortunately, that's all I can do. Now it's just a matter of waiting."

"I know the feeling," I said sympathetically. "We've got the Primarch, but that's it. Turian support is contingent on krogan support, which is yet another long shot. And we'll have to host the war summit here because God knows what would happen if we tried hosting it on a salarian or krogan ship. At least a turian ship's out of the question: they're all tied up back at Palaven. All we can do is… wait." I paused, then activated the room's SCIF mode. "Anything to report from Delta Source?"

"Not yet," she shook her head. "Any intelligence will be coming in burst transmissions anyway. A constant data stream would draw too much attention."

"I see." I closed my eyes and exhaled in frustration. "I just wish there was something we could do. Don't get me wrong: I'm used to waiting. I'm a sniper, after all. But this… this just sucks."

A chiming noise caught our attention. Opening my eyes, I turned to my terminal. There was a new e-mail in my inbox:

From: Alliance Command
Subject: Eden Prime

Commander,

Cerberus has attacked Eden Prime and is now occupying the colony. Alliance forces are stretched too thin right now to attempt to liberate the colony, but we're doing what we can to covertly aid the local resistance.

In the process, we've learned that Cerberus has uncovered a major Prothean artifact. We don't know what it is, but it appears to be the reason for the attack on the colony. We need you to infiltrate the colony and recover the artifact.

Miranda and I exchanged looks. "I think this qualifies as 'something we could do'," she said.

"I think you're right," I agreed.

(1): Not exactly a proud and defining moment for the representative of my people.

(2): I couldn't have put it better myself.

(3): In this case, I have to question Shepard's denial.

(4): I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered, though I choose to lean towards the latter.

(5): Jonas Salk, a human medical researcher and author of the 20th century who developed the first vaccine against the disease known as polio. On a personal note, I believe it speaks to Shepard that he took this situation so seriously.

(6): Dr. Eleanor 'Ellie' Fay Bartowski-Woodcomb, who Shepard considered a surrogate sister due to their shared childhood.

(7): Make no mistake: I sincerely appreciated the gesture of support.