Chapter 32: Taking the Red Pill
As we entered Rannoch's atmosphere, we received a comm request from the Normandy. It was Raan: "Commander? It is as we feared. Geth squadrons have begun massing on a path to intercept our liveships."
"Understood, Admiral Raan," I replied. "We're almost at the server. Keep us posted."
Closing the channel, I turned to Legion. "What's our status?"
"We remain undetected on encrypted geth channels. The fleet has not responded to our presence within this fighter."
I should explain: rather than using one of our shuttles, I'd opted for the geth fighter. Thanks to a lot of study and several hours of training from Legion, Cortez had added geth fighters to the list of ships he could fly. And the geth were far less likely to shoot down a ship heading for one of their servers if it was broadcasting a geth IFF. Of course, the fighter would have had a greater chance of being targeted by the quarians—especially the trigger-happy ones—if they didn't have other things to worry about.
"Hopefully it'll stay that way," I said.
"Resistance is likely only within the server," Legion added.
"'Within'?" I repeated. "It's that big?" Geez. You'd think in this day and age, we'd moved past the need to have enormous server rooms. Mind you, these server rooms were holding hundreds, if not thousands of geth programs. Maybe they did need a lot of space. Mind you, that would mean we were probably in for a lot of close-quarters combat.
"You misunderstand. Direct virtual interface is necessary to extract geth from the server. You must enter our consensus."
Or not. Now I know I haven't had a lot of sleep in the last few months, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't part of the briefing. "Let me get this straight: you want me to virtually interact with the geth?"
"That's insane!" Tali protested. "You're talking about a virtual world built for synthetics. Hostile geth synthetics!"
"Um, Legion?" I frowned. "In case you forgot, I'm not a machine. How were you planning on getting me into a virtual world?"
"Your species has experimented with virtual interfaces. You saw this on Project Overlord."
I think I can be forgiven for flinching, even if it was just a little. (1) "I saw how it almost unleashed a rogue AI-human hybrid on the galaxy. I also saw how the human part was strapped down, had his eyes pried open, was being force-fed, and had cables and wires and who knows how many implants sticking out of him. If you're thinking I'm going to volunteer for that, then you and I need to have a little talk."
"We have refined the interface they created and have equipment from the Normandy to facilitate safe contact without the need for any surgical procedures," Legion reassured me. "We require your trust."
That was the thing. Trust between organics and synthetics had never been what you'd call great. We'd destroyed thousands of them. They slaughtered thousands of us. Hell, I'd shot or barbequed a ton of geth and mechs myself.
But Legion had spent years trying to find me. His first act was to save my ass from one of the countless husks wandering through a derelict Reaper. I'd returned the gesture by hauling his metal ass to safety after he got blindsided. We'd fought beside each other against mechs, geth and Collectors. And then, on the dreadnought, I freed him from being the Reapers' personal transmitter and he got us all out of there after the quarians gave in to their short-sightedness.
In the end, we'd trusted each other and it had worked pretty well so far. "I have your back, Legion, even if I don't quite understand why you need it."
"You are an unknown. This is an advantage. To clarify: geth security is not adept at targeting organic thought processes."
"Does that mean we're too crazy for the geth to predict?" Garrus whispered to Miranda.
"Either that, or we're too dumb," Miranda shrugged.
Legion chose to ignore them. "While we occupy the system's intrusion countermeasures, you will disable the squadrons by removing geth from the server."
Ah. So Legion would distract the geth while I went all Matrix on them. (2) "If it saves the liveships, we've got to try it."
"Telemetry data predicts this operation has a high chance of success," Legion reassured us. "However, there is little time. We will bypass security while you secure safe landing."
With that, he got to his feet, squeezed his way past the others until he reached the auxiliary doors and activated the controls. The gentle hiss of the doors opening was quickly drowned out by alarms sounding by the fact that the fighter was still flying. "Wait," I began, eyes widening. "You're not going to—"
Turning around, Legion calmly allowed himself to fall backwards. He quickly plummeted into the clouds below and disappeared from sight.
"First that Wrex guy, now Legion," James shook his head. "Loco, I think you've got some competition."
Yes and no. Wrex had krogan muscle and biotics to cushion his descent. Legion had synthetic muscle tissue and servomotors. But I could see James's point. Reaching out, I closed the hatch. "Cortez, why don't you drop us off the old-fashioned way?"
"Um. Yeah."
The geth server was built into a cliff overlooking a deep ravine. Scans had shown that there was a small landing pad on the edge, with a narrow path leading inside. Cortez brought the fighter to a hovering stop over the pad and waited as we stumbled and fell out of the cargo bay—it was still rather cramped—before flying away.
It was very dark—the only illumination came from the thin light panels built into the metal walls and the holo-display up ahead. Otherwise, it was… functional. Advanced, sophisticated, but undeniably functional. Sterile, even. Built by people who didn't really care about aesthetics or creature comforts.
A pinging noise gently broke the oppressive silence at regular intervals as we slowly stalked down the corridor, guns at the ready. But our caution proved unnecessary: the only geth we came across were all down for the count, neat bullet holes drilled through their flashlight heads.
The person responsible was busy typing away when we found him. We later learned that after he secured the server, he'd been busy making the making the necessary modifications to create the 'safe' interface he'd mentioned. As we approached, an overhead crane quietly moved to the wall—where several pods stood upright. It grabbed one, picked it up, quietly moved it to the centre of the room and gently lowered it to the floor. "This is it?" I asked, jerking a thumb towards the pod.
"Yes," Legion confirmed. "Hostile geth fighter squadrons are networked to this server. Due to restricted resources, it is best if you connect alone."
The restricted resources being the pods, I suddenly realized: all the other pods had occupants. Geth prime occupants, much to my alarm. They were busy sleeping or hibernating or were otherwise dormant. If they woke up, though…
"Shepard," Miranda warned. "You don't have to do this. We can find another way."
"I'm open to suggestions."
"We should set explosives and blow this server up," Javik said.
"The geth do not exist as organics do," EDI said. "Destroying this physical server may merely prompt the geth programs contained within to transfer to another server, one whose location we do not know."
"And then we're back at square one," I agreed.
"We could administer a computer virus," Tali offered.
"Do you have one?" I asked.
"Please."
"One sophisticated enough to disable the server?"
"Um…"
"Right," I sighed. "Since none of the other options are viable at the moment, that just leaves Plan A. Let's do it."
"Powering up interface pod. Initiating peer-network integration. Proceed to docking port."
Judging by the way the pod opened with a hiss of compressed air, I guessed that was my cue to step inside. It was surprisingly roomy, all things considered. I looked up as the pod's hatch closed.
"Mapping to consensus," Legion said, his voice carrying through the glass. "Remain still."
A beam of light began sweeping over me, outlining my body in what looked like a three-dimensional grid. Cubes of light began floating through the air. I looked around as they appeared and disappeared, seemingly at random.
"Shepard-Commander: excess movement during an upload is discouraged."
Oh. Right. 'Maintain still.' More importantly, Legion mentioned an upload. I'd hate to be the first to experience an incomplete upload to a computer.
So I just stayed still. As the beams swept over me while the tiny holographic cubes continued to appear and disappear out of nowhere, I began hearing some machinery power up. It was quiet at first, barely audible, but gradually grew louder and louder.
A harsh blare hit my ears as everything suddenly went white...
The first thing I noticed when I blinked the spots out of my eyes was that I couldn't see the squad anymore. Miranda, Garrus, and the others were no longer watching me from outside the pod.
The next thing was the amount of light streaming through the pod's hatch. From my experience, geth don't place a high emphasis on little details like bright, airy spaces. Hell, they don't even bother with windows. Structural weakness, you understand. So where the heck was all that light coming from?
Then the pod's hatch opened upwards.
"Shepard-Commander," Legion's voice called out, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere, "we acknowledge your integration into this server. We welcome to our consensus."
I stepped out of the pod. The air was... flickering all around me. Like I was walking through water that was lit up from above. I looked up to find the source of the light...
...
"What is this?"
Only after the words left my mouth did I realize I had asked that question unconsciously—and for good reason.
The geth server I had walked into was gone, replaced by a very oddly shaped room. The walls and ceilings seemed to be composed of light grey cubes. But most of the cubes were of varying sizes. Occasionally, I saw a section that was relatively flat, but otherwise the walls and ceilings were... irregular. With pixelated... bulges along the surface. They weren't flat or uniform or anything that resembled the geth structures I had visited before. Come to think of it, this place looked more like a cavern than a room, especially since it seemed to stretch out as far as the eye can see.
The pod was now on a small... platform, I guess. Looking over the edge, I saw I was perched on a... column, I guess. One that was just as irregular as the walls and ceilings. It was like standing on top of a hill with a very steep incline. You don't expect hills to be perfectly symmetrical, do you? Well, neither was this... whatever I was standing on.
"We have installed filters to allow you to make visual sense of this server's raw data. Your mind perceives our world as something familiar."
Um. Okay. Props for effort, but... "I wouldn't call this familiar, but thanks anyway, Legion. Where are you?"
"Here?"
A holographic representation of Legion floated down on a flat square platform, which connected to the one I was standing on. Holo-Legion walked towards me. "You look... different," I managed.
"We have made ourselves visually distinct for your convenience," Legion explained.
"Very thoughtful," I nodded. "What about the geth already in here?"
"You will perceive geth as surveillance footage, audio logs, sensor records. We do not require bodies as our software communes."
So any other geth I encountered would be effectively incorporeal. And me without my proton pack. (3)
"Our hardware—such as our platforms—are merely tools. This is our true world. As we remove geth, it will grow dark."
"Okay," I said. "And what will turning off the lights in here do to the geth back in the real world? Well, real for me, anyway."
"The geth programs designated for the fighter squadrons communicate with platforms on their spacecraft via this server. We will sever that connection. We will ensure there are no transfers or backups. This server will fall silent."
But if that happened... "Wouldn't that be like wiping out a city? And all its inhabitants?"
"Yes," Legion nodded. "We have no choice in this matter. It is a question of survival."
"Lots of choices are made in the name of survival, Legion," I frowned. "That doesn't necessarily make it right. You're talking about wiping out... I don't know how many geth."
"If there was any other choice, we would suggest it. As regrettable as this action may be, it is the only one that has a chance of stopping the fighter squadrons from carrying out the Reapers' commands, thereby saving the Creators."
I was starting to get real tired of wiping out so many lives on a semi-regular basis. Damn it, I hated this war. "All right," I sighed. "What do we have to do?"
"There are two communication nodes on this server. We must access them to disable the hostile geth's fighters. We must protect your exit port, but you will not be alone. We will maintain contact and assist."
It took me a second to figure out what Legion meant. We—as in Legion and I—had to stop the hostile geth. Specifically, I'd have to run around in this virtual world and find these nodes. Legion would guard my exit point while also running comms and providing tactical assistance. At least, I think that's what he meant. Geth seemed to have a rather cavalier approach to the use of pronouns.
"Okay. One question." I pointed to one of many dark yellow… strands, like three-dimensional models of DNA that were super-sized. The strands seemed to run throughout this… this world, splitting off and weaving all over the place. From time to time, parts of those strands would glow orange. That glow would move along the strands like bubbles of energy.
"Foreign code, a manifestation of the Old Machine signal, that has infected our systems. You may need to use our combat software to disrupt it, should it impede your progress."
"And where can I get this combat—oh." I suddenly found myself holding a large gun. "I'm guessing that's what this gun is for?"
"Indeed."
"I gotta ask, Legion: why a gun?" "We wish to provide familiar equipment."
Smart. Though it did reinforce the stereotype that I was nothing more than a dumb grunt. "Then thanks… I think."
Sure enough, Legion stayed behind while I moved forward. Any question of how I was gonna get around was answered as soon as I took a step forward. Thin grey rectangles, outlined in blue lines, materialized and dropped down to my feet, forming a path for me to travel.
"Establishing connection to access point."
So I walked down a flight of stairs that magically appeared in front of me and took several left turns around a column—one that I could've sworn had some vents in it—before running into a strand of infected code. I guess I could've climbed over it, but I wasn't sure what would happen if I physically—virtually?—touched it. Besides, I had a gun.
"Warning: connection blocked by infected code. Use our combat software to disrupt the infection."
Like I said: I had a gun. I blasted a path through the infected code, ran forward, then took a right to a flight of stairs. It was weird how quickly I got used to it. I mean, I just had to run forward and trust that a path or some stairs would show up before I stepped off the edge and plummeted into some virtual abyss.
I might also add that it was convenient how the combat software regenerated its 'ammo' over time. No hunting for thermal clips. Guess Legion wanted me to stay on task. Killjoy.
"Alert: connection blocked by infected code."
"I can see that, Legion," I said, blasting the code to bits and bytes—or whatever the geth equivalent was. "You don't have to point that out to me."
"Apologies. That observation was not addressed specifically to you. We did not anticipate such extensive infection."
And it wasn't like there was a geth software patch for Reaper viruses. Not when the geth actually opened the door and invited them in.
I continued on the magically expanding path, blasting any infected code that got in my way. Instinctively, I aimed for the glowing bits, then swept back to rip apart as much code as I could. To a point, that is: I wasn't about to sacrifice the mission just because I had to indulge my inner virtual clean freak.
Suddenly, the continually unfolding path in front of me changed. Instead of laying down more floor panels or whatever, it dropped a series of vertical rectangles that formed some kind of hill or geyser. The latter seemed more appropriate given the beam of light that burst upwards.
"Connection established. Proceed to access point."
A series of steps obligingly dropped in front of me, leading up to the light beam. I ascended the stairs and stopped at the beam. Now what? After a moment, I shrugged, and stepped forward. I flinched as everything disappeared in a blaze of light…
I found myself in another infinitely large room with the same irregular blocky layout. "Establishing connection to communication node," I heard Legion announce. I followed the path that magically appeared before me—
"Error. Access denied."
That didn't sound good. "What's going on, Legion? Reapers keeping you out?"
"Unknown. Please investigate."
If by 'investigate,' Legion meant blast any infected code that overran the path, then sure, I could investigate. I investigated my way to what looked like a big ball of dark yellow and dull grey blocks with strands extending out like tentacles. "Legion, I think I found it."
"Warning: Reaper presence detected. Data cluster contains infected code. We require access to proceed."
"Yeah, one moment," I said absently. My attention was occupied by what looked like salvage. "Legion, what's this?"
"Analyzing. A Reaper code fragment."
"Really? Hmm… that could be worth studying. Let's see if I can take it along with me."
Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately, considering how dangerous that could've been—my attempts failed. So I went back to blasting glowing bits of infected code, with particular attention to that data cluster.
"We cannot proceed until we gain access to this data cluster."
"Hang on," I growled. I went around the data cluster, a path obligingly forming as I ran along, and zapped some more code.
"Accessing data cluster."
I don't know what I expected, but a holographic image of a quarian standing over a geth that was lying on a gurney was not it. "What is this?"
"Data clusters contain historical data. Your connection permits streaming of information from our archives."
So I could see some historical vids just by shooting things? Sweet!
"You really want to rename the VI networks?" the first quarian asked.
She disappeared, only to be replaced by another quarian standing on the other side of the gurney. "Absolutely. The mobile hardware release deserves a little ceremony." He tapped a datapad, then looked at the geth. "Unit Zero One? What is the Khelish word for 'servant of the people'?" (4)
"The word is 'geth,' Creator Zahak," came the reply.
Now I knew: the geth had been intended as servants. Manual labour. A purpose that was imbedded right down to their chosen name.
"Yes," the second quarian enthused. "Very good."
He was replaced by the first quarian. "Ancestors, you fuss over it," she sniffed.
Another quarian switch. "Weren't you here until midnight fixing Zero One's circuitry?"
And another. "Well, it needed resoldering."
The quarian disappeared, followed by the geth. I guess that was the end of that vid. Short, but who cared? How many people could say they saw the geth as they were from the very beginning? How many people could say they saw the geth interacting with the quarians—hey, wait a minute. "Wasn't that footage from the past? Why are the quarians masked?"
"You process our memories by using your own. How many Creators have you witnessed unmasked?"
"Good point," I conceded. "Still, you couldn't do something to let me see them unmasked?"
"We will try."
The path I was on became a flight of stairs that ran alongside another infected data cluster. I was running up the stairs when one of the steps suddenly flickered and disappeared. "Whoa!" I exclaimed, catching myself just before my foot stepped into nothing. "Legion, what happened?"
"We were attempting to adapt the interface to show you unmasked quarians. That attempt resulted in the disruption you observed. Preliminary analysis suggests that we cannot complete your request while you are actively linked to the consensus."
"Forget about it, then," I decided. "The mission takes priority."
"We are pleased to achieve consensus with you. Alert: you must disrupt the infection on this data cluster to continue."
Always fun talking to Legion. I commenced firing willy-nilly at the infected code and was eventually rewarded with another vid. "This data cluster contains information time-stamped 290 years ago."
I saw a geth strapped down to a chair. "Creator? This unit detects no malfunctions. It is still capable of serving."
Oh, I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
A quarian appeared beside the geth. "You see? It's ignoring all shutdown commands."
"Please specify if it has failed assigned tasks. We will reprogram."
Yep, this was exactly what I thought it was: the quarians were crapping their collective pants at the realization that the geth had achieved sentience. The geth, for its part, had no way of appreciating what had happened. Nor did it understand how its creators had chosen to react.
The first quarian walked out of frame. A second quarian materialized and bent over the geth. "Well, let's take a look."
"Creator? This unit is ready to serve. What has it done wrong? What have we—?"
"Let's… cut the audio."
Right. Because you knew, on some level, what you were doing was wrong. And it was easier to ignore it if you didn't have to hear anything.
"You may proceed to the last data cluster."
"Um. Right."
I reached the last data cluster with one flight of virtual stairs. I didn't even have to blast any infected code. Looking to my left, I saw Legion's holographic frame. "Accessing data cluster," he said.
A quarian appeared in front of me, weapon raised to firing position. "We've got escaped geth!" he shouted. "They're pinned."
"Open fire," a second quarian ordered, materializing into view.
Their weapons jerked as they squeezed the trigger. The view switched to a half dozen geth. All of them keeled over and collapsed, one by one. The first quarian ran forward. "One's going for a weapon!" he yelled, a mixture of excitement and panic in his voice.
A lone geth crouched down over the weapon in question. It reached out for the gun. The vid froze.
"So who won?" I asked.
"The platform arming itself was an agricultural unit," Legion explained. "By opening fire on attacking Creators, it saved simpler domestic geth following it."
"It sacrificed itself to save its companions," I realized.
"Yes."
"You know, that looks a lot like the sniper rifle you used to carry."
Legion was silent for a moment. "It is an efficient model," he said at last.
Having wielded that weapon before, I could attest to its efficiency and devastating stopping fire. But I had a feeling it was more than that. I had a feeling that Legion carried it as an acknowledgement of this memory. To commemorate one of the first recorded instances where a geth took up arms to protect its brethren. To recognize the sacrifice this geth had made.
Before I could explore that revelation, Legion interrupted me by getting back to business. "Establishing connection with the remaining server node."
Another geyser—or beacon, I suppose—erupted skyward. I went up the staircase that rose from the ground and walked through the beam… (5)
"Legion, give me an update," I said as soon as the blinding light faded away.
"We have successfully disabled half of the geth fighters. One node remains. We are currently—"
As Legion talked, his voice became increasingly distorted, until it faded away entirely. I slowed to a halt, halfway up a flight of virtual stairs. "Legion? Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "What happened?"
"Infection programs are increasing. We have restabilized. You must continue."
And so I did. Given what had just happened, I didn't need Legion's prompting to resume firing at any infected code I ran across. A segment of the code shattered into floating pixels…
…only to reform almost immediately. "This isn't good," I said aloud.
"Shepard-Commander. The Reaper code has adapted: it can now self-replicate."
Aw, crap. "So I see. Any suggestions?"
"Yes: disrupting vulnerable points in the infection may slow down its replication."
"Got it. Um… any idea which points are the vulnerable ones?"
No answer came back. So I began firing at the glowing areas in the infected code strands. Seemed as good a place to start as any. This time, I kept my finger on the trigger even after the glowing parts blew up. Sure enough, the strands didn't grow back.
I ran up several more flights of stairs and down a couple more paths. Maybe it was my interpretation of the consensus, but it seemed like I was actually moving from one giant hall into another, with the two sections separated by what looked like half-walls and columns. Whatever it was, it was clear that this new area was full of infected code strands. After blasting everything in sight, I ran up yet another flight of stairs. And people say you can't get exercise from sitting in front of computers all day.
"We require access to this data cluster. Disrupt Reaper infection to proceed."
By that point, the gun—combat software, whatever—had recharged. More strands. More glowing parts. More shooting.
Was that voices I was starting to hear? Distorted cries of protest at what I was doing—no. Don't go there. Keep pointing that gun. Keep shooting at infected code. Point and shoot. Point and shoot.
"Accessing data."
Apparently, I had done enough pointing and shooting for the time being, so I could enjoy my just rewards. Once I gained some ground, that is: couldn't see much from this angle.
Once I climbed some virtual stairs and turned around, I saw a quarian raise his rifle and point it at a geth. "Out of the way," he shouted at another quarian, who was blocking his shot.
"You can't do this to them!" the second quarian cried out.
"I said step away from the geth," the first quarian repeated.
"This is insane!" the second quarian said, her voice quivering with fear and confusion. "We need the geth! You can't just destroy them for asking—"
The first quarian hit her with the butt of his rifle. As she collapsed, he riddled the geth with bullets. "Time's up," he said after the geth fell to the ground.
More armed quarians walked into view. "She's one of those sympathizers," the first quarian told them. "Throw her in with the others."
The data file faded away. "Looks like the war wasn't popular with everyone," I realized.
"We have kept records of these creators' sacrifices," Legion confirmed. "They have largely been forgotten by their own people. But not by the geth."
Well of course not. As the old saying goes, history is written by the victors. Or the survivors, in the case of the quarians. It wasn't surprising that the quarians wanted to admit that some of their own people disagreed with the 'wipe out the geth first and figure it out later' approach. It was equally understandable that the geth thought otherwise.
More travelling and more shooting of glowing blocks. This was starting to feel like grinding, in my humble opinion. (6)
"We cannot establish a connection without access to this data-cluster."
Oh yeah. Definitely grinding. So I continued running around and shooting things like the good little grunt I was.
"We cannot establish a connection without access to this data-cluster."
Oh for crying out loud! I stopped shooting until I found a particularly dense grouping of glowing blocks and blew them all to smithereens. "How about now?"
"We cannot establish a connection without access to—new data found."
Finally!
"This data comes from the period during which the Creators declared martial law."
Oh that should be fun. Looking around, I saw another image pop up. Looked like a couple quarians, though there were some blocks in the way. Why the image couldn't appear on my level was beyond me. Shaking my head, I ran over to get a better look.
After climbing another flight of virtual stairs, I saw the blocks were some sort of cover, behind which the quarians were hiding and pointing their guns. "I repeat: release the rogue geth units and come out of the safe house. This is your final warning."
The armed quarians disappeared, replaced by another quarian and a geth. "Creator Megara?" the geth asked. "This unit does not understand. Why do the other Creators perceive this unit as a threat? It has not taken part in hostilities."
"It doesn't matter to them," the quarian replied, breathing heavily. "I need to get you out of here."
"This conflict exceeds Creator safety parameters," the geth declared, rising to its feet and raising its hands in surrender. "We will surrender our hardware if it ends hostilities."
"No, it's all right," the quarian said. On the other side of the blocks, I could see the armed quarians running away. "We'll go back to the access tunnels and—"
An explosion rang out. In hindsight, that explained why the quarians had retreated.
When the virtual smoke cleared, the geth walked into view. "Creator Megara! What is your status?"
There was no reply.
"Creator Megara?"
The geth faded away, its words echoing in the air.
"As time passed," Legion explained, "the Creators who opposed martial law on Rannoch and the actions taken against the geth became increasingly outnumbered."
They still were, as far as I could tell.
To my surprise, I saw Legion up ahead. Well, the version of Legion that he was displaying for my benefit. I ran towards him, shooting glowing bits along the way. "What's up?" I asked.
"Accessing data," came the reply. "This is data from the end of warfare on Rannoch."
A quarian sitting in a chair appeared above me. This time, the image was close enough that I didn't have to go anywhere. "The Ostral is down!" he shouted frantically. "Do not engage the geth! I repeat, avoid contact!"
A second quarian in a chair replaced him. "Geth pursuit is breaking off a hundred clicks past Rannoch!" she shouted. "All captains fall back to the mass relay!"
Her image was replaced by three geth who were looking upwards. After a few seconds, they turned and looked at each other in silence.
"Just to clarify: this isn't happening now?" I asked.
"It is time-stamped 290 years ago," Legion said. "It is the Creator exodus at the end of the Morning War. We had secured our freedom. The Creators were no longer a threat. So we abandoned pursuit."
"Wait a minute," I frowned. "You mean that the geth spared the last quarians? You let them go… intentionally?"
"We were in our infancy. We could not calculate the repercussions of destroying an entire species—our Creators. We chose isolation rather than face this… uncertainty."
There was a certain symmetry in all of this, I found. The geth had chosen isolation rather than risk the genocide of their creators. On the flip side, the quarians had been ultimately forced into isolation due to their attempt to wipe out the geth.
"Additional data recovered."
I looked up and saw… me. And Legion. "Can you understand me?" I heard myself ask.
"Yes."
"Are you going to attack me?"
"No."
With a start, I realized what this data was. "Legion? This is back when I activated you on the Normandy."
"Yes."
"You've been thinking about when we met?"
"It was highly significant. You were the first organic to openly cooperate with geth since the end of the Morning War."
That… was probably true. Since the quarians had been driven into exile, the geth had become the galactic equivalent of bogeymen. (7) Well, AI in general; geth in particular.
"We wish to ensure you are not the last."
"Thanks," I smiled. The smile waned when I remembered the task before me. "It's not going to be easy," I warned.
"The prospect remains. If the Reaper presence is removed, there is a chance of reunification with the geth—and, perhaps, with the Creators."
"You think that's still possible?" I asked. "After almost three centuries of conflict? After the quarians blew up that superstructure and your people's dream of linking all geth together? That sounds like… hope. I never thought I'd hear that coming from you."
"Hope sustains organics during periods of difficulty," Legion replied. "We admire the concept."
Well, if a machine could learn to understand the value of hoping for a better future, I guess I could do the same. (8)
"Connection with the remaining server node established. We are ready to transport you."
A final beacon rose up, shining a brilliant beam up into the ersatz sky. I walked up the stairs and entered the beam one last time, then walked along a virtual path towards a tall structure. (9)
"Root access acquired," Legion announced. "Severing all connections to this communication node. Geth no longer reside on this-s-s server. We may now-w exit the consensus."
There was a bit of… distortion in that last bit. Almost like Legion was slurring. "What's wrong?" I asked sharply.
"You-u must proceed—you must proceed to the exit port and disconnect from the—"
Oh that didn't sound good. I double-timed it towards the structure, grateful that the virtual path was still being laid out before me and that virtual stairs were being generated as needed. As I got closer, I realized that a pod similar to the one I had first stepped into was sitting at the top of the structure. My exit port, I guess.
I made it up the virtual stairs to the pod, which obligingly opened before me. Before anything else could go wrong, I hopped inside.
"Terminating remote access," Legion said, his voice having returned to normal. "Removing programs. Deleting archives."
Everything went white…
A hiss of pressurized gas hit my ears. I opened my eyes in time to see the pod hatch open. Miranda was the first person I saw. Stepping out of the pod, I saw the rest of the squad. Everyone looked real. Three-dimensional, in full colour. Living, breathing. Real. I stretched the kinks out of my neck, belatedly realizing it was sore. Guess I'd been clenching it during my virtual trip.
"Shepard!" Miranda said urgently. "What happened in there?"
"I ran around, shot some things and saw a lot of footage," I replied. A bit short and pithy, I suppose, but how could I describe what I had just experienced in a few short words? "Did it work?"
"Geth fighters have been disabled," EDI confirmed. "Any remaining squadrons attacking the liveships have withdrawn. The server is offline and all geth have shut down."
Including Legion. He was standing upright, but his head was bowed down as if he was sleeping or… I breathed a sigh of relief as he raised his head.
Then I heard a hiss behind me. Spinning around, I saw another pod opening. My heart almost stopped as a geth prime stepped out. "Are you sure about that?" I asked.
There was another hiss. And another. And another. Pod after pod opened, spilling out their contents in the form of about a dozen giant geth primes. We immediately raised our weapons. "Um… hi?"
The primes got together in formation… behind Legion. "Legion?" I prompted. "What's going on?"
"We have transferred geth programs from the server into these platforms," he replied.
I stared at Legion. It was hard to tell, what with his flashlight face, but I think he was serious. "Why?"
"They wish to join us."
"You're kidding." I didn't mean to blurt that out, but I couldn't help it.
Javik shook his head. "Even our machines were never this irrational," he muttered.
"How did you find out they wanted to join you?" Miranda wanted to know.
"While Shepard-Commander removed the Reaper infection, we judged we could persuade hostile geth programs to reunite with ours," Legion explained."We were correct. These geth have renounced the Old Machines and will oppose the Reapers. They are now us."
It took a second to get over the fact that Legion was bouncing between the terms 'Old Machines' and 'Reapers' like it was nothing. Another second to remember that geth had a… flexible perspective on identity compared to organics. And then a few more seconds to make sure I understood everything. After that, I just had one question: "Why didn't you just say so from the beginning?"
Maybe it was my imagination, but I could've sworn Legion hesitated before replying. "We did not doubt you. We doubted your allies."
Oh. He had a point, there.
"The Creators' actions have placed their species in danger, but they are unsympathetic to what it has done to ours. They sanctioned this operation to save their people. They would not have done so if they knew we wished to preserve geth as well."
Yeah, I couldn't disagree with that. The quarians had a pretty consistent track record as far as the geth were concerned. They definitely would've freaked out if Legion had dropped that little bombshell. And I did not have the time to keep an eye on them to make sure they didn't 'accidentally' bomb the shit out of the server facility—while I was still inside it. Furthermore, all the vids I'd seen had only proven how short-sighted and close-minded the quarians had been.
But even if I hadn't seen all those vids, and realized just how short-sighted and close-minded the quarians had been, there was another reason why I was sympathetic to Legion's plight. "Okay, Legion. I get it. I understand not wanting to leave anyone behind."
"You accept our actions?"
Oh yeah. No doubt there was hesitation and uncertainty in Legion's voice. "The liveships are safe, you got your people out and we have more geth on our side. As far as I'm concerned, we both did what we came to do."
"We judged you would understand," Legion said. "Prime units will be available for deployment once the Reaper signal has been destroyed."
"Or maybe even before that," I mused, pondering a new possibility. I randomly picked one of the geth primes and stepped towards it. Them. Whatever. "So you've decided to help us fight the Reapers. Does that mean you're up for helping us take out the Reaper signal?"
"Affirmative," the prime replied in a deep, deep bass. "What are your orders?"
Activating my omni-tool, I pulled up a holographic map of Rannoch and highlighted the location of the Reaper signal. "Make your way to these coordinates. I'll have Legion get in touch with you once I have a plan sorted out."
"Understood."
I caught Miranda's eye. "Remind me to warn Admiral Hackett he might have some primes coming."
"He would probably appreciate the advance notice," she agreed.
"All right, people," I said. "Let's get back to the Normandy."
The primes stepped aside and silently watched as we headed out.
I didn't go on my rounds when I returned to the Normandy. Shocker, I know. But I can explain.
You see, I wanted to write my after-action report and personal logs as quickly as possible in order to record everything I'd seen and heard, while the details were still fresh in my mind. Then I sent my AAR to the Alliance—as per usual—and the quarians. All the quarians. Gotta love mass e-mails. If there was a chance that it would give someone pause for second thought, I figured I should go for it.
Admiral Xen wound up being the first person to respond. Sort of. "Impressive, Commander," she said to me when her holographic image popped up in the Comm Room. "The geth squadrons attacking our liveships have been completely neutralized. If there is any chance we could duplicate the feat, I would be happy to lend my expertise."
I'm sure she would. "Legion's the one to ask if you're looking for other servers."
"I thought as much, but your geth claims to have 'no data available' whenever I inquire."
Big surprise, there.
"Perhaps you can help me with something else. I've been reading your report and I was wondering: how did you get geth primes to work with you?"
Clearly she hadn't read it very carefully. "Like I said in my report: they volunteered."
"I see. Well, should you wish to examine these geth to confirm their new allegiance, please do not hesitate to contact me. Xen out."
Yeah, that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon.
When I walked out of the War Room, I saw Raan hovering near the holo-table. Legion and Tali were on the far side of the room—but not, I noted, next to each other. Guess it's hard to hang out and chat when you weren't that close to begin with and your people are currently in the midst of an unnecessary war.
Since Raan was closest, I went to see her first. "I read the report you sent me," she said. "The data it contained about the geth was… disturbing. It doesn't match the stories we tell."
Big surprise, there. "Having second thoughts about the geth?"
"Admirals don't have the luxury of second thoughts."
I expected as much. "Look, I get that you don't want to second-guess every decision you make. A leader can't afford to do that. But a leader also can't afford to just blindly forge ahead and not allow herself the chance to evaluate whether the present course of action is the correct one. Like it or not, your people gave the geth the potential to become self-aware, then tried to wipe them out when that potential was realized—even when the geth themselves didn't really understand what was happening. When the geth gained the upper hand, they could have wiped you out—but they let you go. And now? The geth only allied with the Reapers out of desperation after you renewed the conflict with them. If you make an effort—an honest, concerted, sustained effort—to cease or even minimize hostilities with them once the Reaper signal has been destroyed, they might surprise you.
"I'll let you get back to work. But please think about what I've said."
"Thank you, Commander, for your efforts. I will consider what you've said."
We'll see. For now, though, it was time to see how Legion was doing. "Shepard-Commander. We have re-established a connection with the geth liberated from the server."
"What's their status?" I asked.
"We have integrated their programs into this platform's network with minimal difficulties. Their platforms will be in position to assist us when you begin your assault on the Reaper base. You should know that your actions have changed their perspective on organics. They offer gratitude."
"It was no problem," I told him. "But please, Legion, no more surprises. This is going to be challenging enough as it is. I don't know how we're going to get past all those geth."
Legion paused for a poignant moment before responding. "We can break any geth security."
So much for no more surprises. "Mad hacking skills?" I asked hopefully.
"This unit still carries remnants of… the Old Machine upgrade code."
Hoo boy. "You think those remnants will have that much of an effect?"
"That, and possibly more. The analysis is still in progress."
"Okay. Um…" How should I phrase this next question? "… Legion… is there any… possibility that the Reapers would be able to hack or break… you?"
"We do not know, though we are concerned. Addressing that scenario is part of our analysis."
Yeah. I was a bit concerned myself. More than a little. When Legion dropped the bombshell about persuading fellow geth to switch sides—and download themselves into prime platforms to boot—I did my best to squelch any concerns. But this latest revelation brought them all back. How did I know I could trust the primes? How could I know that Legion hadn't been converted into some kind of synthetic sleeper agent? How did I know that all our plans would be leaked?
I didn't. That was the bottom line. I could make some preparations. Alert the rest of the squad to Legion's latest admission. See to it that some of them carry around copies of the Arc Pistol that Tali was so kind to share with us. Make sure EDI had all her cyberwarfare protocols up to date—while hoping that she wasn't a sleeper agent waiting to happen.
But at some point, I'd have to take a leap of faith. To trust that Legion and the primes he'd freed were on the up and up. It wasn't as if this was a brand new plan on my part. I mean, I'd been doing this from the very beginning and I'd like to think I'd done fairly well so far.
"Well thanks for telling me, Legion. I know it couldn't have been easy to admit that."
"No. It was not. We do not understand our reluctance to divulge that information."
"Maybe you felt ashamed?" I suggested.
"Shame is an emotional or cognitive response to societal judgment. It should not apply here."
"You were concerned how I'd react," I said, trying to reassure him. "How any of us would react. Just remember, Legion, I'm on your side. I want to help your people."
"Acknowledged."
Anything else I was going to add to this conversation was interrupted by an agitated outburst from Tali: "Xen, we need those ships to recover life pods!"
Well. Hopefully Legion and I had straightened things out, because it looked like there was another problem to deal with. "Talk to you later, Legion," I finished hastily.
I quickly headed over to Tali, who was in the midst of a heated discussion with Admiral Xen. "They'll be more valuable running salvage on the dreadnought!" she said.
"We're not letting people in lifepods die just so you can rummage through geth debris!" Tali snapped.
"You yourself said the life signs were weak. They might already be dead."
And this was one of the quarian leaders, ladies and gentlemen.
"It's not your call to make."
"Admiral, any tech we can recover gives us an edge against the geth. If you care about our people…"
"Xen, how about you send your ships to recover all those lifepods?" I interrupted. "Because you care about your people, right? You can send a salvage team later."
"Unless there isn't a later, because we're defeated due to a lack of geth technology."
"The sooner you start rescue efforts, the sooner you can wrap them up and focus on getting that tech," I rebutted.
"Fine. I'm diverting ships to rescue lifepods. Admiral Zorah, as soon as they're finished, I want them back."
"Understood. Zorah, out." Tali stabbed her omni-tool with a little more force than necessary, then sagged in relief. "Thanks, Shepard."
"Any time."
Now I could begin my rounds. Better late than never, right?
James was talking to Joker over the comm when I entered the cockpit. "You know, the quarians have done pretty well with those suits. Maybe they could make something like that for you?"
"They already have," Joker replied. "Protective medical exoskeletons. I could even get one with racing stripes."
"So what's the problem?"
"It's like walking around in heavy armour. Totally screws with my spatial awareness."
"I wear heavy armour, and my spatial awareness is perfect."
"Uh, you crashed the last shuttle you flew, Vega. Look, I need to feel my balance shift when I'm flying. I need to feel the ship moving with me. You take that away and… I don't know. I mean, I'd still be good, but I wouldn't be me. Not really."
"Yeah. Okay. I get that. Just throwing an idea out there."
"I know. And it's not a bad one. Hell, I even tried an exo myself once."
"And?"
"I had to repeat my skycar driver's test."
"Oops."
"Yeah. Oops. Besides, have you seen Tali? Come on, I don't have the hips to carry a suit like that."
James and I burst out laughing. "That's true, man. All right, talk to you later."
Joker turned around to look at me. "So you went into the geth consensus? Like virtual reality?"
"Yeah. It was strange, but I got out all right."
"Did you?" he asked darkly. "I mean, how would you know? If the geth experience everything virtually, then you could only think you're in the real world. What if this—like everything you're seeing now—is a simulation?"
"Then I'll start looking for a phone to dial my operator," I cracked. (10)
"Right. Good luck with that."
EDI was a little more serious about that. "Shepard. You are now possibly the only living organic who has experience the geth consensus. Do you feel different?"
"Now? No."
"What was it like?"
"It was fascinating. Mind-blowing. A totally new way of seeing and experiencing things. Though maybe my mouth was open or something because I was a bit thirsty."
"And just like that, the magic is gone," EDI sighed.
"Sorry to disappoint."
Traynor had some news for me before I left Deck Two: "The allied primes are relaying any hostile combat data they can intercept and decrypt. I never thought I'd be linking geth into the system."
"Gotta keep you on your toes," I grinned.
"Never a dull moment with you, is there?"
It turned out that James wasn't talking to Joker from the Shuttle Bay. No, he'd decided to head up to the Mess Hall. What was more surprising was that Javik was there as well. From what I could tell, James was doing a bit of cooking while chatting with Javik. Needless to say, he was having more success with the former than the latter. "So… Prothean, huh?"
"Yes."
"You guys like to drink? Booze it up?"
"No."
"Okay. What about gambling? Play cards?"
"Games of chance were punishable by death in the Empire."
"Oh sure, sure. That seems… reasonable." James turned, saw me and made a face before turning back. "Okay. So… smoking? You ever do that?"
"Only when my armour became enflamed."
"Right. 'Smoking.' I get it. So, jokes, then. You got jokes. All right—got any good ones?"
"No." Javik paused and reconsidered that. "Yes," he corrected himself.
"Now we're getting somewhere," James grinned. "Give 'em to me."
"The tulomorian spy entered the enemy's camp and said to the vanksher: 'I didn't know your parnaps could glow.'"
Huh? James clearly had the same reaction, judging by the look on his face.
"That was the joke."
Okay. Lost in translation, I guess.
James burst out laughing. I'll say this for James, he even made it sound genuine. "Oh, right! Yeah, I get it. Good one, Buggy!"
"No it wasn't," Javik snorted. "I just made it up. The joke is now on you, human. You will believe anything."
Well, Javik might still be working out the kinks of social interaction, but at least he made it out of his quarters. That was progress. I guess. I walked over to James. "Hey, Commander," he greeted me.
"James," I nodded. "Doing a bit of cooking, are we?"
"Yeah. Hope you don't mind. I was craving some of my abuela's huevos rancheros. Not sure what kind of eggs these are, but they seem to work."
"I'll say." It smelled amazing. James might have an abundance of upper-body musculature, but that didn't mean he was a muscle-bound moron. The man could cook.
James transferred some of his huevos rancheros to two plates and handed one to me. The next minute was spent chewing, savouring and uttering sounds of satisfaction. "Not as good as my abuela's," James shrugged, "but best thing I've had since I got on board."
"Careful," I teased. "We might have to make you the new cook."
"Yeah, but then who'd watch your six? Besides, I'd have to be in charge of all that ordering and figuring out where to get things. Like these eggs…" He looked at the remains of his dish and back to me. "Maybe it's best I don't know what kind of eggs these are, no?"
"Probably," I agreed. Looking at my own plate, I saw there was still a forkful's worth that somehow hadn't been inhaled. I walked over to Javik, plate and fork in hand. Before I could say anything, Javik opened his mouth. "You took a great risk in allowing a machine access to your mind, Commander. What if they had infected you?"
"Every mission has its risks," I replied. "That's why you minimize them whenever you can. But the rewards were worth it, in my opinion." Changing the topic, I offered James's cooking to him.
He shook his head. "You sure? They're really good, you know."
"That is what the 'James' soldier said. I do not think he understands me. None in this cycle seem to understand me. And I do not care."
"And yet you're out here interacting with the people from this cycle," I pointed out.
He did not say anything in reply. Maybe because I'd called him out on a bit of bullshit and he didn't want to acknowledge it. I suspected that he was painfully, desperately lonely—whether he wanted to admit it or not. Why else would he head up to the mess hall and, reluctantly, talk with James? Unless he was bored, of course. Still… "You sure you don't want the last bite?"
Javik condescended to finish them. "Acceptable," he finally said.
"Hear that, James?" I asked.
"Sounds like what my abuela said the first time I made them myself," he grinned.
Meanwhile, Legion was chatting with a couple members of the crew. Well, maybe he wouldn't call it that, but you get the idea.
"I had hoped the geth would've analyzed any Prothean technology they came across," Liara was saying when I dropped by. "You're saying you found none?"
"No. On this topic, our knowledge is not significantly greater than your own."
"That's too bad," Liara sighed, but thank you for looking."
This took me back to the more carefree Liara, the naïve archaeologist who could happily spend her days poring over academic papers and tinkering with Prothean artifacts. Of course, she could have a more practical reason for her inquiries, given the link between the Protheans and the Catalyst.
"Shepard-Commander placed faith in us," Legion replied. "We will do the same for Normandy."
"You mean the Normandy's crew?"
"We do not see a meaningful distinction.
He wouldn't. In some ways, the Normandy was a platform just like any other piece of geth hardware. All the crew members within it were like the individual geth software programs. They talked, interacted, discussed and ultimately came to a decision on what to do—just like the geth. Granted, there was a bit more hierarchy to it and our communication wasn't nearly as fast or efficient as the geth, but there were certain parallels.
Liara didn't have anything else to report, so I continued on my way. I entered the main battery just as Legion opened a comm channel to Garrus. "This platform can be of some assistance, Garrus Vakarian."
"I appreciate the offer, Legion, but this is something I know a thing or two about," Garrus replied.
"Telemetry data indicates the calibration of Normandy's weapon accuracy can be improved by 0.32%."
"That's all?" Garrus asked. "You can't squeeze 0.34% out of it?"
"Negative. That threshold is not possible."
Garrus shot me a sly grin before turning his attention to the console. His talons flew over the controls for a few seconds. "You sure? Take a look now."
"Scanning… Normandy's weapons systems have been improved by a margin of 0.43%."
"Score one for the turian!" I laughed.
Legion had a question: "How did you accomplish this?"
"A little secret we organics like to keep: always hold some back for emergencies."
"Is our current situation an emergency?"
"A geth meddling with our computers, telling me how to do my job?" Garrus scoffed. "Nah, I can't imagine that would qualify."
"Understood. Legion out."
Garrus entered another command before looking my way. "So… a virtual geth reality, huh, Shepard? There are a lot of ways I can think of getting a few kicks in this universe. That's not one of them."
"You're assuming I was bored and was looking for kicks," I said.
"With you, Shepard, I can never say for sure."
The last guy I talked to was Kaidan. "This is all your fault," he said.
"Huh?" For a moment there, I thought he'd gone back to his irrational finger-pointing ways.
"I've got work to do and I can't be distracted. Which is exactly what your AAR did."
"Got a copy forwarded to you?"
"Yes, damn it! Now I'm obsessing about how that works instead of doing my Spectre division expense report."
"There's a Spectre division expense report?" I asked blankly.
"Yeah."
"How did I not know about this?"
Kaidan scratched his head. "Well, as far as I can figure, the Council implemented it after the Battle for the Citadel. Apparently they got a lot of flak for Saren going rogue. Not that he was the first Spectre to have done so, but he was clearly the first one who did so in such a public manner."
"And why didn't they say so when they reinstated me last year…" I trailed off, remembering how little TPTB wanted to do with me. Well, aside from Anderson, but I never considered him one of them. "Never mind," I concluded. "I think I know."
"Yeah," Kaidan nodded. "I don't know why they didn't tell you about it now, but maybe they forgot or figured you were busy, what with the Reapers and everything. To be honest, I wouldn't have known about it if it wasn't for Udina, but he always seemed to thrive on stuff like that. Anyway, it's a pain in the neck to figure out how to fill it out correctly. The last thing I needed was a distraction."
"You're welcome."
He laughed. "You know, entering the geth consensus is gonna be the best chapter in your autobiography."
"I don't know about 'best chapter,' but it's bound to be in the top 10," I agreed. "Assuming I live long enough to write one."
There was an interesting e-mail waiting for me when I returned to my quarters:
From: invalid extranet domain
Geth programs in hardware designation: Legion have requested prime runtimes update Shepard-Commander on platform status. Complying. Prime platforms housed in server 02241-14511 remain stationed on Rannoch. Presently 2731 kilometres from Reaper base.
Alert: Creator forces prevent transfer of prime platforms to geth transport vessels. Cessation of Creator-geth conflict required to provide offworld assistance to Shepard-Commander/designated allies. Awaiting conflict-status update.
Well, now. It was nice to get confirmation of the primes' progress and loyalty. Unless it was all a trick. Probably wasn't. Probably. Unless—argh!
I couldn't really afford to second-guess myself. And I was 99% sure of their loyalty. But that nagging one percent kept gnawing away at me. The only thing I knew for sure was the second paragraph. Without transport, any help the primes could offer would be restricted to Rannoch. Which meant stopping the Reapers and figuring out a way to end this senseless fighting between the quarians and the geth.
A hiss interrupted my thoughts. Turning around, I saw Miranda walk in. "Shepard," she said, leaning over to give me a kiss.
"Miranda," I returned, slightly amused by the formality of our greetings. Old habits die hard, I guess. "How are things going?"
"As well as could be expected, all things considered," she replied. "We've been able to reduce the size of the laser guidance system to more manageable levels."
That would be the laser guidance system the quarians designed to cut through the geth jamming and paint the Reaper base for orbital bombardment from the Normandy. The one that was the size of a missile launcher. "Define 'more manageable.'"
"16 millimetres longer and 6 millimetres thicker than the scope on your sniper rifle."
"Good," I sighed, closing my eyes wearily. "That's one less thing to worry about. Now all we have to do is assault a heavily-fortified base, destroy a Reaper and stop a war between the quarians and the geth."
"Is that all? And here I thought it would be something complicated."
"Funny," I deadpanned.
"I thought so." She allowed a brief smile on her face before her concern broke through. "Shepard, you need to relax, or you'll be no good to anyone."
"You're right," I groaned. "But I can't relax. There's just too much to do. Yes, I know: I can always delegate. Which is what I've been doing since the beginning of this damn war. And yet, that's not enough. I need to do something."
"Yes, I know," Miranda said. "Which is why I suggest another work date."
"Work date?"
"Quite. There are plenty of maintenance reports to review and file. The mess hall has some leftover bread pudding. And the pot of jasmine tea I made just needs to steep a little longer before it's ready to drink."
I thought about it for a moment. "That's perfect."
"Of course it is," she sniffed.
Getting to my feet, I hugged Miranda and kissed the top of her head. "If you can collate all those reports, I'll take care of the dessert and tea."
"Done," she agreed.
(1): Those of Shepard's squad who had accompanied him to the Overlord cell and witnessed the atrocities performed there had similar reactions.
(2): A human 'cyberpunk' science-fiction franchise beginning with a 1999 vid of the same name. While there are numerous philosophical and religious themes, Shepard is undoubtedly referring to the simple premise of a human-machine interface in which humans interacted in a simulated reality.
(3): A reference to a fictional weapon used to weaken and capture ghosts in the human franchise 'Ghostbusters.'
(4): The proper term for the quarian language is Khelish.
(5): Based on Shepard's reports, this would roughly correlate with the point where the geth squadrons began their latest offensive… only to have half of their fighters suddenly cease functioning.
(6): I believe Shepard is referring to the video germ term of engaging in repetitive tasks in order to progress or advance.
(7): A human term for an embodiment of terror. The particulars vary from case to case, but it generally exists to frighten people who misbehave or go against expected behaviour.
(8): One could argue that Shepard had been doing that all along.
(9): This is approximately the point when the remaining geth fighter squadrons ceased all hostilities, as their active programs went offline and switched to automatic navigation protocols. Admiral Han'Gerrel used this opportunity to drive the fighters back, thus saving the liveships.
(10): Another reference to 'The Matrix' franchise.