Editor's Note: As a departure from the past log entries, this one was written by Miranda Lawson. It covers her impressions of one of Admiral Hackett's missions, the forces mustered to fight the Reapers, and the data gathered from the mysterious Delta Source. She sent it to Shepard, who made various comments and observations—not unlike my own editorial footnotes. I trust readers will find it informative.

Chapter 17: Miranda Versus the Evacuation

I worry about Shepard.

Ever since the incident in the Bahak system—if you can call the destruction of the Alpha Relay, the Bahak system and the loss of 304,942 batarians an 'incident'—he's been different. Burdened by the Pyrrhic victory that came with thwarting the Reapers' last attempt to invade the galaxy.

It wasn't his fault, really. He did everything that anyone could reasonably expect, given the limited resources at hand and laughably short time frame given. And then, of course, he went a little bit further. He shouldn't be so hard on himself.

But I suppose it's easier for me to say that. I wasn't in command. I didn't have to make that call.

Six months had passed since that fateful day. Six months that was effectively wasted. Instead of making the best possible use of that short reprieve, the galaxy indulged in more baseless accusations, denial, foot-dragging and the occasional token effort of preparation. Even worse, Shepard would undoubtedly look back at the sacrifices he had made, the blood that had been shed, and wonder if it was all worth it.

That was why I ultimately agreed to join the Normandy's crew once more and assist in any way I could. On the battlefield as a team leader. In my former office—how disconcerting it was to work there and know that it now belonged to Liara—analyzing intelligence reports. In the War Room, keeping track of the allies and resources we were slowly gathering to build the Crucible and retake Earth. And keeping a quiet eye on Earth, thanks to Shepard's Delta Source. Because he had more than enough on his mind. If he had to deal with all of that on top of battling an increasingly diverse array of adversaries, arguing with politicians and wrestling with his inner demons…

…well, he didn't have to. Because I was there.

Shepard: Note to self—thank Miranda. Profusely.

When I told Shepard about a group of ex-Cerberus agents who could assist him—or Admiral Hackett—with various missions and assignments and whatnot, the intent was to give him one less thing to worry about. He had enough on his plate, what with being expected to find personnel, equipment and resources to build the Crucible. And gather allies, even amongst longstanding adversaries with millennia-long grudges. And retake Earth. And stop the Reapers. And save the galaxy.

So naturally he said yes to my suggestion and sent the team off, only to turn around and accept one of Hackett's missions.

Shepard: In my defence, we were in the area. And there were civvies at risk. What was I supposed to do? Watch them get abducted until help arrived?

Then again, my team wouldn't have been able to get there for another week and the nearest Alliance reinforcements were still two hours out, so I suppose there was little choice.

Shepard: Told you. Wait. You might not get a chance to read this. Never mind.

As we suited up, I went through what I remembered of our target destination. Benning. Second planet in the Euler System of the Arcturus Stream. Closest world to the former Arcturus Station with an ecosphere capable of supporting a reasonably sized population—2.25 million at last count—it boasted abundant supplies of food, and a sizable infrastructure for starship maintenance and repair. In short, it held significant strategic value for anyone trying to control the system's mass relay.

Regrettably, the Reapers had destroyed Benning's comm buoys, spaceports and starships before moving to attack Arcturus and Earth. No doubt they determined that the civilians would be trapped and would not be able to request any assistance, so they could afford to move on and deal with other targets of higher priority before returning to Benning and harvesting the populace. In the meantime, though, Benning had fallen under siege by another threat. One with a non-Reaper heat signature.

We boarded the shuttle and headed down to the planet of Benning. Hackett briefed us while we entered the atmosphere. "Shepard, Cerberus strike squads have infiltrated one of the major cities on Benning. Initial reports indicated they were recruiting civilians. But further investigation suggests that people are being taken against their will."

"For what purpose?" Shepard frowned.

"Unknown. We sent a recon team to investigate and the Cerberus squads reacted by targeting civilians and public facilities."

If I hadn't been convinced that Cerberus had changed, that would be it. When I was an operative, Cerberus would never have engaged in such blatantly public or aggressive tactics. We certainly wouldn't have escalated our activities to include deliberate targeting of human civilians. Of course, Cerberus was broken up into a decentralized series of cells. It was entirely possible that other cells did behave in such a shameful manner and I didn't realize it. Or maybe they did it and I simply chose not to believe it. I did a lot of that, back in the day.

Shepard: I think that's a little unfair. The last part, I mean.

"Officially, Cerberus is denying responsibility and condemning the action. They're either lying, or we're dealing with a rogue faction."

I suppose either option was possible.

Shepard: I'm going with lying. 'Cuz it's TIMmy.

"And innocents are caught in their crosshairs," Shepard concluded grimly.

"Exactly. Secure the area so we can establish a rescue lifeline to the rest of the city."

"Approaching the drop point, Commander," Cortez announced.

"Copy that, Lieutenant."

"The people down there are counting on you, Commander. Hackett out."

"Fielding an avalanche of civvie SOS requests, Commander," Cortez reported. "The bulk of them are concentrated on the upper streets. I'll touch down there." He brought the shuttle to a hover just above the pavement, so smoothly I could barely feel the deceleration—an impressive feat given my enhanced senses. "Sounds like Cerberus forces are pinning them down. You'd better hurry."

"On my way," Shepard led us off the shuttle. "Keep me updated."

"Roger that."

We followed Shepard up a ramp and into a building. No civilians, though one of them had apparently started a log entry. Shepard read it for 2.5 seconds before turning around. I raised a querying eyebrow at him. "Nothing we don't already know," he told me. "Let's go."

By now, I was used to this. Shepard had a habit of looking for things. Schematics. Weapons. Data reports. Accounts with credits to siphon. As irritating as it was to humour him, I had long since learned that he was remarkably good at finding things that could help us on future assignments or work towards our long-term goals.

It helped that he had gotten better at restraining his peculiar brand of curiosity. In most cases, he wouldn't be conducting such searches when hostiles were firing at us. In this case, he deemed that evacuating the civilians were a higher priority, if not the top priority, and that nothing on the datapad warranted a reassessment of those goals.

Shepard: Finally. I knew she'd figure out the method behind my madness someday.

We turned around a corner and saw a civilian running towards us. Then he got gunned down. There was nothing we could have done. But I was sure Shepard would blame himself.

Shepard: Right as always. Damn it, I hate this war.

Shepard activated his cloak. Our HUDs lit up as he directed us to firing positions. I couldn't help but notice that some salvage that was tucked under a bunk bed vanished into thin air. No doubt Shepard couldn't resist. "Cortez, we'll start dealing with Cerberus," he said. "Hopefully that'll distract them from rounding up the civvies."

I spotted three hostiles approach. One of them suddenly jerked as blood burst out in a jet from the back of his head, a clear sign that he'd been hit by a high-velocity projectile. As Shepard decloaked, I put two and two together and deduced that it was his handiwork. Meanwhile, I struck an assault trooper with a biotic blast—or Warp, if you want to use the name for that particular technique.

Shepard: See, I still don't get why you have to name these things. It's like live-action role playing Street Fighter or Pokémon or one of those games where every move and action and special ability has a name that you have to announce out loud. But I digress.

By now, James and I had worked out a system, based on Shepard's observations that certain weapons or functions could, if staggered correctly, be chained together for synergistic combinations. I would go first and set things up, then James would follow up with a concussive round, which would act as a catalyst to trigger a secondary reaction. In this case, it triggered a biotic explosion that sent the trooper staggering back. A few bullets were sufficient to dispatch him.

Meanwhile, Garrus and Javik were busy pinning down another assault trooper with their particle rifles. Fascinating technology. There must be numerous applications if we had the chance to properly study them. For now, all we could do was reverse-engineer them to the point where we could fabricate them.

As I watched, Garrus and Javik killed the trooper using a combination attack of their own, albeit one that was more tech-based in origin.

"The diversion is working, Commander," Cortez told us. "Civilians are on the move."

Shepard cloaked again and fired at a Cerberus combat engineer—once to disable his shields, once to put a bullet through his head. Then he hastily pulled his head back. So did I, my enhanced hearing picking up a telltale whine. The rest of the squad followed suit once the Cerberus turret began firing at us. Shepard moved four metres to his left and raised his omni-tool. I didn't see any plasma stream out—a tactic he'd taken a particular liking to—but I did hear several cries of dismay. He had probably hacked the turret—another tactic he had begun using recently. Once the turret had taken out the hostiles, it had served its purpose. EDI overloaded its shields and Shepard blew it up with a fireball.

Naturally, the next wave of hostiles arrived 1.7 seconds later. Three hostiles. Liara caught one of them in a singularity, which I detonated with my own biotics. James took him out at the same time Javik used his biotics on the second hostile—as I recall, his technique was different. Unique. I had never seen anything like it before. Definitely worth further observation—before Garrus fired off a concussive round of his own. The third one was able to duck most of our fire, but once he had the squad's undivided attention, he didn't last long. Still he was able to get on the comm and warn his colleagues before succumbing to his injuries, which meant the element of surprise was gone.

"Upper streets are clear—hold on, Commander."

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Shepard prompted. Then he noticed something shiny on the ground, amidst the debris. It was a set of dog tags.

Shepard: The inscription on it said it belonged to a Bilal Osoba. When I returned to the Normandy, I did some checking and found out he was the son of Dominic Osoba—the human ambassador currently assigned to the Citadel.

He picked it up and pocketed it as Cortez provided an update: "I'm tracking civilians fleeing the city with Cerberus troops right behind them."

Meanwhile, I had spotted something as well. It looked like some kind of helmet. I scanned it with my omni-tool so we could study and, if necessary, fabricate it on the Normandy. "Where are they?" I heard Shepard ask.

"Updating your NavPoint. You can intercept them there."

"We'll do more than that," Garrus said aloud.

"Amen," Shepard agreed. "NavPoint received. Forwarding it to everyone's HUD. Let's move, people!"

We only had to go 174 metres before we began running across fleeing refugees and the sound of gunfire. That just spurred us on. As we went through various buildings, Shepard paused just long enough to retrieve some medi-gel and pick up a datapad. "Apparently, some taxi stand's crawling with Cerberus troops," he told us, dropping the datapad.

"And the NavPoint's dead ahead," Garrus added. "Let's get ready."

Sure enough, hostiles started arriving. Shepard targeted a Centurion with his plasma which, by itself, would do nothing. But EDI's EMP ignited the plasma, causing an explosion that overwhelmed his shields. Shepard snapped off a shot from his sniper rifle, then scooped up some spare parts as Liara hit an assault trooper with her biotics. Signalling James to target that trooper, I launched some plasma of my own. James's concussive round blew him apart.

Garrus and Javik laid down covering fire while Teams One and Two left the building and advanced on another pair of troopers. We were able to take both out. But not without a cost—Shepard's shields had been completely drained. "Shepard needs to regenerate his shields," I murmured to James.

He checked for himself. "Roger that," he nodded, taking a few steps forward to put himself between Shepard and any potential danger.

Shepard: I was wondering why he did that. Good call, there.

Thankfully, there were no more hostiles incoming, which gave Shepard time to recover. As his shields regenerated, he approached a pair of civilians cowering in fear. "Look," one of them realized, "reinforcements are here!"

"Try to stay calm," Shepard said soothingly.

"What… what should we do?" the other civilians whispered.

"Just stay down. Head out of the city when the coast is clear."

"Commander, we're tracking movement. Civilians are beginning to evacuate the city, but more Cerberus troops are heading your way. If you can hold the line there, it'll give the civilians time to escape."

A better chance than the civilians on, say, Earth. Or Palaven. Or countless other planets. "You heard the man," Shepard announced, clearly struck by the comparison. "We hold here."

"And by here, I say up there," Garrus suggested, motioning to the second story of one of the buildings. No doubt he based his decision on years of combat experience and an established fondness for long-distance weaponry. Not that I could fault his choice: I'd have done the same.

Shepard agreed. We relocated just in time: the next wave of Cerberus troops had arrived. Shepard struck the first blow from one of the doorways, cloaking and taking off an assault trooper's head with a single shot. Moving to the other side of the door, he tried to repeat his success. Unfortunately, that trooper was ducking to avoid my biotics and, in an act of serendipity, also ducked Shepard's bullet. Growling, he motioned to EDI and Liara, who used a combination of plasma and biotics to finish him off.

"EDI," Shepard said. "Head down to that crate." He identified the designated item with the HUD. With a start, I realized he was using her as bait. This shouldn't be construed as a callous disregard for his squad. Rather, he was making full use of EDI and the mech she was controlling. A mech with servomotors and computer-assisted reflexes beyond those of most organics. A mech that could shrug off most amounts of damage and be repaired later on. Besides, she'd have plenty of opportunity to find cover if she had to.

Shepard: It is so great to work with someone who gets me.

Sure enough, hostiles began popping their heads up, unable to resist the opportunity that presented itself. Shepard and Garrus immediately dropped two of the troopers with perfect headshots. EDI and I fired off bolts of plasma, which Liara and James ignited as soon as they landed.

The explosion sent another trooper flying into the wall, leaving him stunned, but alive. Before he could recover, I activated the cryo mod on my submachine gun and fired. A few bullets were sufficient to freeze him into an immobile, irresistible target. Rather than waste a bullet, Shepard shattered his frozen body with another fireball.

Then he cloaked. I heard him move back and forth before firing right next to my ear. As I winced, I tracked the bullet and saw a trooper who was trying to flank us—until his head exploded like a melon. Pulling away, I saw more movement on my HUD. More hostiles were trying to flank us on the other side. Seeing that Shepard was too busy sniping another target to notice, I alerted the rest of Team One with my HUD. EDI and Liara were able to move to new firing positions just in time to ambush another trooper. Shepard arrived to help them finish him off before dealing with the other Cerberus troopers attacking from that direction. It appeared that they also decided to employ their cryo mods—with similar success, I might add.

I couldn't watch, of course, as more hostiles were approaching. Quickly prioritizing my targets, I dropped an EMP on a Centurion. A concussive round, a burst of biotics and another concussive round—from James, Javik and Garrus, respectively—finished him off. By then, Shepard was able to join us. He killed one trooper, missed the next one, waited patiently until he poked his head out and took him out. Meanwhile, Liara had caught two more troopers in a singularity and was finishing them off with gunfire. Unfortunately, this allowed a trooper get perilously close before she froze him solid. EDI finished that trooper off with a fireball before turning her own weapon on the floating troopers.

Shepard joined them just long enough to send a fireball at yet another trooper they'd frozen before coming back in time to spot a combat engineer run up with a pair of escorts. Garrus disabled the engineer's shields, then Javik used his biotics to spark a secondary explosion. This distracted the other troopers for James and I to dispatch one of them. Shepard dropped the other trooper, sniped another, then winged a third. He managed to finish that one off with a fireball, but not without his shields dropping to 46%. Raising his omni-tool, he fired off some more plasma at one target to keep him pinned down, swivelled around and tried to shoot another trooper. A frown was the only indication that he'd missed before he sent another fireball flying—which hit its target. As the trooper began flailing around, I finished him off. Nodding his thanks, Shepard reloaded, raised his sniper rifle and fired. This time, he hit his mark.

An explosion to my left told me that another trooper had tried to flank us, only to fail miserably. I was too busy draining another Centurion's shields to notice. James was already firing at him with his particle rifle, but he paused long enough to load a concussive round and send it flying into his cranium. Meanwhile, Garrus was busy knocking troopers off their feet with concussive rounds, then joining Javik in finishing them off with sustained bursts from their particle rifles.

Once again, Shepard cloaked. Once again, a trooper lost his head—literally. I disabled some more shields—this time, from a combat engineer. James finished him off while Shepard sniped another trooper, hit another one in the midsection and finished him off with a fireball. Then Shepard aimed his sniper rifle at another Centurion. Seeing that Garrus had disabled his shields with another EMP, he switched targets to take out yet another trooper, then targeted the Centurion with a lethal burst of plasma.

By this point, we had identified the most likely avenues of approach that the hostiles would take and were taking them out one by one and two by two. Every shot either killed a hostile or seriously wounded him, the latter case meaning that the next shot or attack was a guaranteed kill. After a minute and eleven seconds, it was over.

Shepard: Really? Wow. Felt like longer.

Now that the coast was clear, Shepard took the time to read another datapad. "Breaking news," he announced. "Don't trust Cerberus." We all laughed. It was surprising how good that felt.

"No hostiles detected in the immediate area, Commander," Cortez said over the comm. "Reinforcements are moving in to secure the evac route. I'll pick you up at the LZ."

"Understood," Shepard said as he discovered some more spare parts, which he undoubtedly planned to sell for salvage. "Good work, everyone."

It was with a sense of accomplishment that we found fresh thermal clips to replace the ones we'd spent and headed for the shuttle. Time to head home.

I was in the midst of analyzing the data from the various intel feeds we'd established when Shepard invited me to be debriefed by Admiral Hackett an hour later. His QEC signal was being patched through as I walked into the Comm Room. "Shepard," he greeted me. To his credit, he adapted quickly to my presence. "Miss Lawson," he nodded. "We're getting reports of continuing strikes against other cities on Benning."

"Cerberus still denying responsibility?" Shepard asked.

"Yes. And for once, we're inclined to believe them. Gunning down innocent humans isn't their usual M.O."

I really wanted to believe that. It made sense, I wanted to believe. Cerberus was about advancing humanity to the forefront of galactic power and influence, no matter what. True, sacrifices might have to be made, but that never went so far as to shoot unarmed innocents in the back. But what about their recent, more aggressive stance and the constant supply of fresh bodies they needed to support it? If they couldn't recruit volunteers and they couldn't abduct new targets, would they take that final step and eliminate helpless civilians rather than risk them warning others?

"Miranda?" With a start, I realized Shepard was asking me a question. "What do you think?" he repeated.

Reluctantly, I shared my concerns.

"Do you really think the Illusive Man would do that?" Hackett asked.

"I don't know," I forced myself to admit. "Making such a concerted effort to swell the ranks of Cerberus military divisions, using reverse-engineered Reaper tech to ensure compliance, actively launching direct strikes against civilian and military targets… none of that was consistent with the Illusive Man's methodologies when I was working for him. I honestly can't predict his motives or intentions with the same degree of accuracy as, say, six months ago."

"I see," Hackett said thoughtfully. "Either way, the civilians down on Benning have a chance now. We're solidifying the foothold and getting people out. Then we'll move to liberating the rest of the planet."

Shepard took a deep breath. "I hope we can say the same for Earth."

"One day, Commander," Hackett reassured him. "For now, we've got our work cut out for us. Carry on."

About twelve hours later, I met Shepard in his quarters. I mouthed the words 'SCIF mode' to him. He quickly sealed the room off, but I could tell he thought, for a moment, that I was here for more personal reasons.

"I thought you'd like to know the latest on the various allies and resources we've obtained," I said.

"Sure. Hit me."

I obligingly punched him—lightly—on the shoulder before beginning. "We haven't received any additional reinforcements from the Turian Hierarchy or the Salarian Union. There are conflicting reports about the situation on Palaven—some say the turians are holding their own, others say they are taking horrific casualties."

"I have a bad feeling it's the latter," he said darkly.

There wasn't anything I could do other than acknowledge his statement with a nod. "We do have some good news as far as the Alliance is concerned, though," I said. "As you are well aware, the outbreak of the war caused a great deal of confusion. Information was misinterpreted, lines of communication were disrupted or severed entirely and the status of various soldiers, teams and even ships were occasionally unknown. We've since been able to clear up some of that.

"To start, the 103rd Marine Division was finally reinforced by a group of combat engineers known as Team Zeta."

"Ah yes, the 'Bridge Burners'," he nodded. "They're renowned for their breadth of knowledge, their skill in destroying enemy defences deep in hostile territory and… um… their overall enthusiasm."

"So I've heard," I said dryly. "I'm sure they'll get along swimmingly with Jack. Speaking of enthusiasm, have you heard of a 'Team Delta'?"

"Team Delta…" he closed his eyes. "Actually, yeah. Did a stint with them during my Interplanetary Combatives Training program. Mostly N5 operatives, led by a couple N6's. Usually run missions outside Citadel space. Really hard to join their ranks, but it's worth it. I think their unofficial motto is 'work hard, play hard'."

"Generally, the number of N5 operatives is closer to fifty percent, but your memory is correct. They finally broke radio silence to update Admiral Hackett on their status. Naturally, he was quick to commit them to various missions. Moving on to ships: the First Fleet rendezvoused with the SSV Agincourt, whose crew had previously been declared MIA—Shepard?"

"Sorry," Shepard shook his head. "Just some old memories. Pressly—the XO of the original Normandy—served on the Agincourt."

Shepard: When I first met him, he wasn't too fond of nonhumans. Not that he was a xenophobic Cerberus sympathizer, mind you. But by the end, he'd come to see how short-sighted he had been. And then the Collectors ambushed us and he died over Alchera.

"I see." It was clear that he needed a moment, so I waited a few seconds before resuming my report. "The Third Fleet also gained an additional ship: the SSV Nairobi, which had been in the midst of a shakedown cruise when the Reapers invaded and thus escaped the initial onslaught. Also, you'll recall my earlier report regarding the destruction of the Fourth Fleet?"

"Yeah. You're saying there were survivors?"

"The cruiser SSV Shanghai. While the remnants of Alliance Command dither on which fleet to reassign her to, the Shanghai responded to a distress call from the colony on Uqbar. It seems the colony was facing an imminent Reaper attack. What's remarkable is that the Shanghai's captain and crew successfully evacuated every colonist within an hour—before the Reapers arrived."

"Wow." He sounded impressed and I was inclined to agree. Given the average size of a colony, we were talking about hundreds of colonists. That must have taken a lot of shuttle runs and a great deal of coordination.

"Granted, a total of three ships is not a huge gain—" I began.

"But it's three more ships than we had yesterday," he finished. "Go on."

"The Alliance's Naval Exploration Flotilla is making amends for their debacle last year, when several dozen service people were charged and indicted with withholding information on certain lucrative mining deposits so they could sell their locations to Baria Frontiers."

"Huh," Shepard said thoughtfully. "I bought a lot of star charts from the Baria Frontiers kiosk on Illium. Guess we now know where they got them from. So what's the NEF doing to repent for their sins?"

"They've committed their entire flotilla and mineral stockpile to building the Crucible."

"As far as PR moves go," he snorted, "I guess you can't get much better than helping to save the galaxy."

"Agreed. On another note, you might be interested to know that Alliance R&D has commandeered several colony factories to manufacture Javelin missile launchers for the Alliance's dreadnoughts."

"I've heard about those," he said. "They release dark energy upon impact, right?"

"Correct," I nodded. "That energy creates severe space-time disruptions and warp fields that affect anything in its vicinity. Theoretically, even a Reaper's shields would fail after multiple hits. Eventually, Hackett hopes to have enough to supply them for all dreadnoughts in the allied fleets.

"Speaking of dark energy, Liara was saying that you came across several data discs when you were searching the galaxy for Saren?"

"Yeah. She wasn't able to make heads or tails of it."

"No one could. If it wasn't an issue in converting the data to a compatible format, it was understanding the coding and equations embedded within. Researchers were at a quandary until recently: it seems that the Crucible's blueprints provided key insights into unlocking the data on those discs. Apparently they contain advanced theories on dark matter, which were intended to be used with the Crucible's main power source."

I could see a small flicker in his eyes. It was as if, after weeks and months of frantic scrambling and hard effort, a wisp of hope was on the verge of catching fire. I hoped he could hold onto that. "Moving on: you'll be pleased to hear that your decision to spare the rachni queen has paid off. She sent some rachni to assist with the Crucible."

"She what now?" Shepard stared at me. "How did that come about?"

"Do you remember last year on Illium, when we met an asari who relayed a message from the queen?"

"Yeah," he recalled. "She seemed very… reverent. Like she'd found religion or something."

"I'd gotten a similar impression," I agreed. "In any event, she contacted Admiral Hackett and informed him that the queen was sending some workers as a gesture of good faith. He decided to send them to the Crucible."

"That must have gone over well."

"E-mail intercepts confirm that," I said dryly. "It seems a Dr. Lok had to use Hackett's name several times to prevent the Crucible's security forces from shooting down the rachni. Still, the workers have managed to contribute to the project. Apparently they have demonstrated a particular aptitude for handling tasks that require group work."

"And the Crucible scientists and engineers?" he wanted to know.

"They're slowly adjusting to the novelty of seeing rachni roam the halls."

We paused to visualize that bizarre scenario.

"Also, I've received word from the ex-Cerberus volunteers I recruited."

"Go on," he prompted.

"They've uncovered a Cerberus research lab that was storing and studying Reaper tech. After a fierce struggle, they were able to liberate some data files and technology samples. While Hackett's staff is still establishing safe conditions to examine the tech, they have been able to extract reports from the files on composition and strengths of various Reaper units, which Alliance VIs will be able to use for formulating tactics and strategy in the field. In the meantime, I took the liberty of asking my team to collect any credits, items that could be sold for credits, data and technology."

As I suspected, that got Shepard's attention. He straightened up and leaned towards her. "Really? They were willing to do that? I mean, it's fine for me. But I have heard that other people find it a lot of extra work."

"Yes. How silly of them," I said, rolling my eyes. "To answer your question, they were already getting paid. They also knew how little Alliance officers—even Alliance officers who were promoted to the august ranks of the Spectres—made. As for the tech, that was easily justified as taking anything Cerberus might want to use for any reason."

"True," he conceded. What did they find?"

"A sniper rifle mod, a formula for a medi-gel variant that would be more effective for hanar and certain non-human races—naturally Cerberus regarded it as a 'failed' experiment—and a total of 10 000 credits."

Shepard blinked. "Wow. And they're willing to give all this to me?"

"It will be waiting for you when you dock at the Citadel," I confirmed.

"People looting for me. That… I might need some time to wrap my head around that."

"Hopefully you can get over that long enough to hear about the Arcturus First Division. It's a volunteer army of civilians, paramilitary forces and reserve soldiers initially formed as a resistance movement against the Reaper occupation on Benning. They were temporarily disbanded when Cerberus troops drove them off. Now that Cerberus showed its true colours, though, they've reformed. The Alliance is sending advisors and troops to help them coordinate, provide intel and supplies and reinforce the division with trained, experienced soldiers. If Benning is freed, Hackett hopes to deploy them to other theatres as needed, including Earth. Which brings me to my last topic."

"Delta Source?" he guessed. "I figured that was why you engaged the cabin's SCIF mode."

"Exactly," I confirmed. "I've had Delta Source collect as much intel as it could use passive scanners—a wise precaution considering how quickly the Reapers can respond to perceived threats—compress the data and send it through burst transmissions. After analyzing the data, I believe I've compiled a preliminary assessment of the Reaper forces currently occupying the Sol system."

Leaning over, I brought up some telemetry data on my computer. "As you can see, there are at least four Reaper capital ships and over thirty smaller Reaper vessels—which the Alliance has tentatively classified as destroyers. There are also dozens of vessels which, judging by their movements, are some sort of troop transport."

Shepard's eyes widened. He tried to hide that by leaning towards the display and squinting. "Resolution seems pretty low."

"That's what I thought at first," I agreed. "Upon closer examination, however, I believe it's actually the presence of Oculus drones."

Now I noticed the blood slowly draining from his face. I couldn't blame him. We'd tangled with a half dozen Oculus drones when we'd assaulted the Collector base. Each drone had enough firepower to deal significant damage to our shields and carve through our armour, even with all the upgrades Shepard had made. One of them had even managed to punch into our cargo bay—now the shuttle bay—where it caused a lot of damage before we'd finally destroyed it. "If there are enough Oculi to obscure the other Reaper ships, then there must be hundreds of them," he breathed.

"At least."

I could tell all the good news that I had told him faded away in the wake of this information. It didn't take someone with my IQ to guess what he was thinking: the Battle of the Citadel. One Reaper, along with a fleet of geth ships, had been a match for three of the Alliance fleets and the Citadel Fleet. That was nothing compared with the armada currently occupying the Sol system. And to think that that was just a small portion of the Reaper fleet, which was currently laying waste to the galaxy.

Shepard slowly lowered himself into a chair. "Well… it's great that we have some idea of what we're getting into."

"Agreed," I said. "Assuming the Reapers don't get any reinforcements, of course."

"Of course." There was a look of wild desperation in his eyes as he pleaded "Tell me you've got a plan."

"I'm working on that," I reassured him. "Right now, I'm concentrating more intelligence on their movements, strengths and weaknesses." I laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "This is what you asked me to do, remember? Just concentrate on fighting the Reapers and Cerberus, one mission at a time, and keep up your efforts to recruit allies, assets and resources for our cause. Let me worry about figuring out the rest."

Wordlessly, he reached up, clasped my hand in his own and squeezed back.

Shepard: I appreciated the reminder that I didn't have to stay on top of everything and think about everything that might happen. That there were other people thinking about other aspects of this war and how to handle it. That I wasn't alone in this.

It was then that I decided to readjust my plans. Originally I was going to do some additional analysis. Formulate some plans and have EDI run a battery of scenarios. That sort of thing.

But none of that was time-sensitive. It could wait. Right now: Shepard was clearly feeling overwhelmed. Alone. Helpless. He needed someone to confide in, to find comfort in. Someone who he could let his guard down around and unburden himself to without feeling like he was losing face or risking morale.

I could only hope that I would suffice.

When I finally left Shepard, he seemed… slightly relaxed. There was still a haunted look in his eyes, mind you. The ghosts of countless millions, if not billions of lives. The enormity of the task that still lay before him. But he looked a little better than when I left him. I could only hope my observations were based on truth, rather than wishful thinking or pride.

Shepard: 'A little better' sounds about right.

It was late in the night shift when I entered the War Room. To my surprise, Primarch Victus was there. "Miss Lawson," he greeted me.

"Primarch Victus," I replied. He twitched when I addressed him by his title. Not much—maybe a millimetre at most—but enough that I picked up on it. "Still getting used to your new position?" I guessed. "Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but it appeared that way. It can be rather daunting, isn't it?"

For a moment, I thought I had overstepped. The Primarch and I had exchanged several pleasantries over the last couple weeks, but we were hardly close. And I certainly did not share Shepard's gift for putting people at ease and persuading them to open up. I prepared myself for some sort of angry retort or cold dismissal.

"You speak like one who's used to being in command," he finally said. "Unless I am mistaken."

"I am. Growing up, I was expected to become a leader. The best leader. The perfect leader. I had to know everything. Excel at everything. Know the perfect action or response for any situation." I had to reign myself in, much to my surprise. I didn't expect to be so… honest or open when I began this conversation. Lack of practice, I suppose. Perhaps that's why it suddenly came out like that. Perhaps I needed to admit it out loud more than I realized. It was quite a burden, to say the least."

Victus chuckled quietly. "I can certainly sympathize with that. I'm beginning to understand why leaders so often seem lonely. Worst-case scenarios aren't just theories—they're what you'll be dealing with five minutes from now."

"And you can't pass the responsibility up the chain of command when you're already at the top of that chain," I agreed.

"Exactly," Victus sighed. "When I was a general, of course, it was different. Now, I'm all I've got. So I feel every decision I make weighs heavily on me."

"Any decision in particular?" I asked.

"No. Not really."

He was lying. Granted, my experience in deciphering turian facial and behaviour cues was limited compared to, say, humans. But he was definitely lying. Unfortunately, despite the unexpected frankness of our dialogue, I doubted our professional relationship had developed enough to persuade him to open up. "I suppose I can't complain," I said instead. "The burden on me has decreased substantially since I began reporting to Commander Shepard."

"You're lucky," he nodded. "Shepard's proven to be a remarkable leader."

Aha! Seeing an opening, I took the plunge. "Part of that is his gift for talking to and listening to the people around him. Subordinates, peers, superiors, random strangers—everyone. Given that the two of you are in similar situations, I'm sure you had much to discuss whenever Shepard visited the War Room. If not, you certainly could in the future."

"I'm sure you're right," he said in a polite way that told me I had reached the limits of this conversation.

Shepard: Maybe, but it's all about baby steps sometimes. We'll see if Victus opens up about whatever's bugging him the next time we chat.

"Well, then. It's late, but I still have some work to do." I pulled up some data and displayed it on the holo-table, hoping Victus would take the bait.

"That's the Trebia system."

Got him! I wasn't completely surprised: he would instantly recognize the star system that held his homeworld, even if it wasn't under siege. "Yes, I wanted to run some analyses of the Reaper invasion and the tactics your admirals and generals used. With any luck, I could gain some insights that would help plan our efforts to retake Earth. Your government has been quite generous in granting us access to your intelligence reports."

"We have a vested interest in our collective success," Victus reminded me.

"Of course," I nodded. After a calculated 3.7 seconds, I added "It would be even more helpful if we could get the raw data from your reports. Though any conclusions I could draw would be more applicable to a turian response than a multi-species coalition effort."

That did it. "Let me see what I can do," he offered.

"I'd appreciate it," I nodded.

"I assume that if you do find anything that could help my people…"

"I'll pass my findings along," I promised.

"Very well. Thank you, Miss Lawson."

"You're welcome, Primarch."

Shepard: Way to go, Miranda. She's done so much for me since she joined the Normandy's crew. I honestly don't know what I'd do without her.