Author's Note:
Welcome back, readers old and new. Just a heads-up: this will be the last chapter of The Hero Rises for the near future. We'll be taking a break from ME3 proper to cover the events of ME3: Omega, which you can read in 'Aria's Lament.'
Chapter 46: Favour the Bold
True to her word, Aria had a batarian waiting for me when I cleared the airlocks of Dock 42. "Are you Bray?" I asked.
He looked me up and down, making every effort to show how unimpressed he was. "Ah. The great Commander Shepard. Heh, and me without my autograph book."
"Save it. Just take me to Aria."
"Follow me."
Let's be clear: walking with strangers to meet known criminals isn't my idea of a good time. But when the stranger is a representative of Aria T'Loak, who's actually been helpful in the past, then maybe I can clear up some space on my calendar.
We went through the now-ubiquitous security screens and over to a catwalk. There was nobody in sight when Bray slowed down. Part of me started to wonder if this was a waste of time. Part of me started to wonder if I was being set up. "So where is she?" I asked.
Right on cue, a skycar pulled out from underneath the catwalk and slowly drifted upwards. It came to a stop, hovering level to our position. The doors popped open. Inside, I could see another batarian in the driver's seat. In the back… was Aria T'Loak. Once pirate queen of Omega. "Shepard," she greeted me.
I glanced at Bray, who tilted his head towards the skycar. Then I waited a few seconds, just long enough to remind Aria that I wouldn't jump at her beck and call like the rest of her criminal flunkies. Once my point was made, I joined Aria in the back. Bray took the remaining seat up front. "Aria," I said casually. "How dramatic of you."
"There are too many eyes and ears in Purgatory."
Fair enough. I waited until the doors closed and the skycar began flying randomly through the air before I turned to Aria. "Is Darner Vosque still giving you a hard time?"
"No, that loathsome little weasel has finally decided to stop drooling over my tits and concentrate on actually running the Blue Suns."
"Then unless Eclipse or the Blood Pack is giving you grief, I assume this is about retaking Omega."
"This is about your war, Shepard."
Note she didn't exactly say no. Mind you, the two weren't really exclusive.
"Cerberus controlling the Terminus Systems seriously bolsters their mobility. Since taking Omega, they've been able to use it as a staging ground to spread through the galaxy. Surely the Alliance has noticed."
I'm sure they had. I'd been a little too focused on putting out fires and gathering allies myself then worrying about Cerberus's movements. Not that that was an excuse: I really should've done a better job of keeping track on their whereabouts. At least I hadn't dropped the ball when it came to the Reapers—though that wasn't a huge achievement. They were pretty much everywhere. But I wasn't about to admit my ignorance. "Cut to the chase. What's your plan?"
"Kick them out."
Apparently Aria subscribed to the KISS principle. (1)
"I've amassed a fleet of merc ships. C-Sec tries to keep on top of such things, but it's pathetic how easy it is to run circles around them," she elaborated when I shot her a questioning glance. "We're going to punch through enemy lines and invade. Once we're on Omega, it's a ground war. That's why I want you—I only accept the best."
Thankfully, that was the last compliment she threw at me. Anything more and I might be liable to blush, and boy would that be bad for my rep. Instead, she pulled out a datapad and thumbed it on. A human man with dark hair—complete with a goatee—appeared; all decked out in a military-style uniform I didn't recognize. "The leader of the Cerberus occupation," Aria identified. "General Oleg Petrovsky."
Which explained why the uniform was sporting Cerberus colours.
"He's the one who… ousted me."
She bit out the last few words. Clearly it was still a sore point with her. I scrutinized the mug shot, but he didn't look familiar at all. "Don't know him," I admitted at last.
"The Illusive Man's top military strategist and best kept secret," Aria explained. "But all you really need to know is that he's a merciless bastard."
"What's your intel on the occupation?"
"Petrovsky's army is massive and he's got Omega locked tight. The information stops there."
"So you're winging it." I shook my head in dismay. "Wonderful." (2)
"Not at all. There are secrets on Omega only I know, secrets that will provide us a foothold. I can tell you this: Petrovsky's invasion was precise and ruthless. He'll stop at nothing to win."
"Sounds familiar."
Aria leaned towards me. "Shepard, I know my reputation. I know I'm hated. I ruled Omega with an iron fist. But the people were free. Their lives were theirs. I preserved that."
Somehow, I think she was lowballing things, either to downplay how things were on Omega or out of a misplaced sense of nostalgia. Under her rule, the strong preyed on the weak, the desperate and the helpless—who were left to fend for themselves, with no one who would stand up to help them. Barring any major changes, that was the 'freedom' that the people of Omega had to look forward to.
But then, none of that really mattered: if Cerberus was free to run rampant throughout the galaxy, the Reapers would inevitably win and everyone else would be too busy being dead or Reaperfied to worry about everything else. "God, things must be really fucked up if that's better than the current status quo," I groaned.
"I'm glad we can agree on that much." Aria tilted the datapad my way, giving me another look at Petrovsky. "Because this man took away everything. Any hope or dream of freedom—all gone because of him. And he is going to pay."
Again, a hint of rage slipped out beneath the façade of calm Aria projected. For all her attempts at icy cool confidence, she was furious at having been ousted from her throne. She wanted Omega back, but not just for the sake of the galaxy. She was out for revenge.
"Revenge is fine," I said. "As long as you remember what's at stake. It's not just about returning you to power. This is about the lives of everyone still trapped on Omega, and those affected by this war."
"Which is why I intend to compensate you handsomely for your troubles," Aria replied, slipping back into her calm demeanour once more. "When Omega is mine again, I'll give you everything. I've got ships, mercs, eezo—all yours for the war."
"More mercs? Aside from the Blue Suns, Eclipse and the Blood Pack."
"Exactly."
"What's the catch?"
"I have objections to some of the company you keep, so you'll have to leave the Normandy and its crew behind."
"You've gotta be kidding," I balked. "My crew are professionals."
"Let's just say… I want you all to myself."
Great. I imagined there would be a lot of people who would kill to be in my position right now. "Then I need information. Every scrap of intel you have on the occupation. How many ships you have in this invasion fleet. How many mercs you have to take back Omega. You may be okay with rolling the dice like that, but I'm not about to throw away our lives—and the lives of those you've recruited—on a suicide mission."
"Speaking as the man who went on a suicide mission against the Collectors."
"Yes. Exactly. The only reason I survived that suicide mission was because I did everything I could to prepare for it. I knew my ship. I knew my crew. I knew what they were capable of. I had all of that before going through the Omega-4 relay and facing the unknown.
"You want my help to retake Omega? Then that's what it takes. You want the best? I need to know what I'm working with, what I might be up against and whether or not we can spare the Normandy and her crew. If you don't like that, then have fun taking back Omega without me. Because I'm not about to throw my life away just because you don't feel like sharing."
Aria didn't like that, or so it seemed. She tried to stare me down. I stared back. Bray and the driver froze up in the time-honoured tradition of henchmen who know someone's neck is on the chopping block and are trying to maintain a low profile. (3)
…
…
Finally, her lips curled into a smile. "Like I said, I only accept the best."
She nodded to the driver, who visibly breathed a sigh in relief before slowing the skycar to a hovering stop and beginning a steady climb upwards. We'd come full circle to the original pickup point. I had to admire Aria's timing.
"Bray will provide coordinates to my fleet, along with the intel you requested," Aria told me. "Oh, and while we're still on the Citadel, please be discreet."
I gave her a withering look. "Like I was gonna run to the nearest VI terminal and have Avina broadcast your half-baked scheme?"
The door hissed opening, sparing Aria from having to respond. She waited for Bray and I to step out before signalling the driver to close the door and head off to wherever her next stop was.
"The fleet is hidden in this system," Bray said, handing me an OSD. "Here's our location, along with ship and troop composition. Comm frequency's there too: signal me when you're on your way."
"I'll do that," I nodded, hefting the disc in one hand. "Once I've had a chance to look this over."
"Fine," he sneered. "Aria and I will meet you on the command ship, once you decide to man up and grow a pair. Can't wait to see what all the fuss is about."
To say Aria had given me a lot to think about would be an understatement. Sure, helping her take back the throne that was snatched from her grasp was a bit sketchy. But a known outlaw was a hell of a lot better than an unknown Cerberus general. And if we were to take a concerted effort to stop Cerberus and focus on the Reapers, this was as good a place to start as any. Besides, Aria was dangling more goodies that could help us out with the war effort. Bottom line: it was a win-win situation as far as I was concerned.
The sooner I could get the crew crunching numbers, the better. But there was one more thing I had to do while docked at the Citadel: make sure Oriana had found her parents—adopted, but more real than her biological father—and had met up with Ellie and Captain Awesome. According to Ellie's e-mail, they were going to meet at Docking Bay 21. The fastest route involved cutting through the refugee camp in Cargo Hold B. As long as I stayed focused.
Eyes on the prize, I told myself. This was not going to be like the times I visited the Citadel because there were a million things to do. Or the other times where I was wandering through the Wards or the Presidium and got sucked into dealing with the problems of random strangers because I just couldn't keep my nose out of trouble. Nope, I had one more stop to make and that was it. I was not going to be distracted by…
…
…say, that redhead looked awfully familiar.
Her hair didn't seem quite as vibrant as I remembered. Her face was a bit gaunt. And she was sporting one of those plain brown leather overalls that seemed to be ubiquitous amongst civvies in urban areas. But I was sure she looked like…
"Kelly?"
She turned, then paused. Almost as if she had instinctively responded to that name when she shouldn't have. But it was enough to confirm she was who I thought she was: Kelly Chambers. Appointed by TIMmy when he brought me back from the dead, her official job was to act as my yeoman. And, when needed, to offer insights as a psychologist. Unofficially, she seemed better at being a really perky, naïve and enthusiastically clueless advocate for Cerberus. That, and letting me know when I had new e-mail. I was kinda ashamed to realize that I hadn't thought of her since I had turned myself in, all those months before the Reapers invaded.
"Shepard!" she beamed. "It's really you! I could just hug you."
And then she did hug me. Apparently, the enthusiastic part hadn't changed. Hardly proper protocol, but she wasn't Alliance military. "It's good to see you too, Kelly," I laughed.
"I've been so worried. Without my Cerberus contacts, I had no way of knowing if you'd survived the invasion."
"Clearly, I have." Then her words finally sank in. "So you're not with Cerberus anymore?"
She shook her head vehemently. "Bit of a surprise, I know. I really believed in what they stood for. But working with you opened my eyes, got me thinking. You forced me to look closely at what Cerberus had done—like how they treated David Archer at Project Overlord."
"I bumped into him, actually" I interrupted. "Several months ago, when evacuating some teachers and students from Grissom Academy. He seemed to be doing well."
"Oh, thank God," she breathed. "After seeing what Cerberus did to him and hearing what the Illusive Man wanted to do with that base the Collectors took us to… in good conscience, I couldn't stay with them any longer. You inspired me to leave."
She seemed… subdued. As I recalled, she had a very good—possibly eidetic—memory that allowed her to recall all those events with crystal clarity. For all I knew, she had been irreparably traumatized by her ordeal. But she looked okay.
"I don't suppose you want to come back to the Normandy," I offered. "You'll see a few familiar faces, though we're flying Alliance colours now."
The way she froze answered that question before she opened her mouth. "That's good to hear," she said. "As for your offer… please believe me: I want nothing more than to be with you again, but… I can't. Ever since the Collectors abducted us… I relive it every night. I see Joker running out, then that cold hand pulls me back. They're above me. Around me. They stuff me into that coffin and I'm relieved. Relieved they aren't… touching me anymore."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued. "But then it's so small. You can't move. You can't breathe. All you can do is watch, for what seems like forever. I watched people melt… God…"
She broke down, burying her head in her hands. "Hey, it's okay," I said, squeezing her arm. "Let it out."
Kelly quickly recovered, wiping the tears from her face. "I'm fine. Really. I just… can't step back onto the Normandy. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry about."
"And even if I could, I shouldn't. I'm making a difference here."
"Here at the refugee camp?"
"Yeah. If there was ever a reason I studied psychology, it was to help people at a time like this. There are so many men and women here; cut off from everything they knew. Lost and confused. Listening to their problems, helping them work through their issues… it's so gratifying and rewarding. It makes it easier to deal with the nightmares. Sometimes... sometimes I even forget about them."
"Good," I approved. "I'm glad to hear you found your calling. And I'm glad you're still alive: Cerberus doesn't look highly on people going AWOL."
"No, they don't."
"You should consider getting new identification," I suggested. "Change your look. Your name. That sort of thing."
"I've already done that," she admitted. "Kelly Chambers doesn't exist anymore. Citadel records show me as Felicia Hannigan of the mining vessel Typhoon. Good thing too: you know when Cerberus tried to take over the Citadel?"
"Yeah."
"Well, their troopers came through here to secure the docks. They lined us all up. Then one of them started asking around for me by name."
Yep. Figured the Illusive Man would take some time from his ill-advised war on the galaxy to hunt down the people who, in his eyes, betrayed him. "Clearly they didn't find you. Even though you still have red hair and respond to 'Kelly'."
She blushed. (4) "Well, I did change my hair colour to a different shade of red. And I've lost a bit of weight. But, yeah, I was lucky. It seemed like they were relying on their records—which said I went off-grid. If I hadn't changed my identity… I don't know what would have happened."
"Neither do I. You dodged a bullet there."
"Yeah."
"Well, just keep your eyes and ears open. And maintain a low profile, okay?"
"I will."
"Something else on your mind?" I asked, seeing how she hesitated.
"Well… yeah. I need to apologize to you."
"About what?"
"Back when I was your yeoman, I betrayed you. I didn't mean to, but I did."
"What are you talking about, Kelly? Or should I say 'Felicia'?"
She didn't respond to my little jibe. Just took a deep breath and bit her lip before finally replying. "I would send reports to the Illusive Man about the emotional state of the crew. Including everything I knew about you. I thought we were all on the same team, that I was helping you. Protecting you. But looking back…"
Well, I figured TIMmy must've been keeping tabs on me somehow. This was just one more confirmation. In any event, it was all in the past. And it was clear what Kelly needed to hear: "Don't worry about it. Even if you didn't tell him anything, the Illusive Man had a lot of eyes and ears on the Normandy. The important thing was that you were there for me. For all of us. And you realized the truth in the end."
"Thank you," she said, practically sagging with relief. "That means so much to me, Commander."
"I can tell you're doing good work around here. Keep it up."
"Thank you, Shepard. I will. I'm so glad you found me. Seeing you makes everything right again."
"It's a relief to see you again too. Hey: what happened to all the fish in your cabin?"
"Dead or confiscated. I had to buy new ones."
"What? Seriously? God damn it!"
Kelly—or Felicia, as I should really start calling her—was pissed. Apparently she had considered breaking into my cabin, before the Alliance impounded her, and taking the fish for safe keeping. I wasn't sure whether I should feel grateful or weirded out. So I concentrated on high-tailing it over to Docking Bay 21 instead.
Turned out I didn't have to rush: everyone was still there when I arrived. Captain Awesome was the first to extricate himself from the conversation and greet me. "Awesome to see you alive and well, Chuck," he beamed. "Gotta say: we were a little worried about you."
"There were one or two moments where I was a bit concerned too," I replied. "How're you and Ellie doing?"
"Busy," he said, sobering up in an instant. "This war… it's been hard. Work's picked up ten-fold. But my buddies down in Emergency say that people aren't swarming in to be treated for stubbed toes or overeating. And everyone's buckling down to get the work done."
"That's good. Too bad it took a galactic war to get everyone to behave."
"True that."
"Any problem taking Oriana's family along with you?"
"Oriana and her mother, probably not. Bringing dependents along isn't exactly encouraged, but Ellie and I can talk our way through. Jay—"
"Who?"
"Sorry: Oriana's dad. It's actually a good thing that he'll be my patient."
"Oh? Something wrong?"
"Not really. I've read some studies about the medication he's currently on and, well, I'd like to switch him to something that doesn't have as many side effects. I definitely want him to move to a lower dosage. The amount he was taking? Seriously not awesome. And I wanna suggest a few changes to his diet. But other than that, nothing serious."
That sounded a little serious to me and, if what he was saying was true, then I had some concerns about their family doctor. But I decided to let it go. Bottom line: they were now in good hands. "Well, thanks again. That's one less thing to worry about."
"Okay: Ellie's giving me one of those looks. Time for us to switch, I guess. Before I go, I just wanted to say: Miranda? She's amazing. I'm happy for you, Chuck."
He really was. Didn't call her 'awesome' or anything. Only time would tell how long that would last.
As promised, Ellie was next. She practically tackled me, so enthusiastic was the force of her bear hug. "Thank God you're safe, Chuck," she blurted out.
"You too," I said sincerely. "I only found out last month that you guys were alive, much less safe."
"How do you think we felt? Sure, we heard you made it off Earth in one piece, but then they kept saying you were in one place or another, and everything sounded so dangerous! How are you?"
"I'm fine."
She gave me her Big Sister look. "Really?"
"Some days are just okay," I admitted. "This war… we've made a lot of progress, scored several victories… but it hasn't all gone our way." I rubbed a hand over my face before bleakly adding "Too many people have lost their lives. Innocent people. Good people. Some of them were my friends. But I can't take too much time to mourn because there's always another mission."
A haunted look entered her eyes. "I could say the same. I've seen so many patients because of this war. Far more than I usually do in any given year. I'm glad I was able to help most of them but… there's just so many. So many patients—men, women, children—who die before you can see them. So many who die no matter how hard you try to save them. And they just keep coming."
"Yeah," I said softly. "Never stops, does it?"
"No. No, it doesn't. That's why you need people around you. People who can support you when you're down."
"I have a good ship and a great crew. We've gone through the good times and the bad together. And recently, we… I… had a really bad setback. The mission failed. And my crew was there for me with all the support and understanding I needed… when I needed it most."
"That's good, Chuck. I'm glad to hear that. I'm glad your crew had your back. But you know, some people can be relied on more than others. For me: that was Devon. I don't know what I would have done without him. And you..." She shot Miranda a speculative look before continuing. "You've got Miranda, now."
"Yeah."
"Good. I like her."
I didn't realize how much her approval of Miranda meant to me. I know: it seems silly. This is the 22nd century, after all, and maybe things like your sister's approval—or her husband's—shouldn't matter quite so much. But they did. For me.
"Smart and gorgeous. So much better than that girl who ran the frozen yogurt stand."
"That was ages ago," I protested.
"Still: I told you that you could do better."
"And you were right," I said, dutifully repeating what I had said the last dozen times. Then I changed the subject, before Ellie began reciting all the screw-ups I'd made over the years. Not that she would've been wrong, but if she got started, we'd be here for weeks. And I kinda needed to get back to work. "Still, it's too bad you had to meet her under these circumstances."
"Better late than never," Ellie replied, dismissing my concerns. "And we're happy to help her family. But we should probably get going. I wish we could spend more time, but the ship has to meet a freighter and pick up another patient. Not to mention our escort has already made it very clear that the sooner we get to this mysterious assignment that I'm not supposed to talk about in public, the sooner he can return to the front."
"She," I corrected. "Ships are 'she'."
"Well, the captain's a 'he'," Ellie retorted. "So there."
I rolled my eyes. For a 'big' sister, it was surprising how juvenile she could be.
Ellie hugged me again fiercely. "Try to be careful, Chuck."
"You too."
The goodbyes took a little longer to wrap up, but eventually we went our separate ways. Miranda looked at me thoughtfully. "So that's Ellie."
"Yep."
"I like her."
"Me too," I chimed in. "You feeling a little better now?"
"Based on the research I did and the impressions I gathered, yes. Yes, I am."
She researched Ellie and Captain Awesome. Of course she did. I really shouldn't be surprised at this point. "Good," I said instead. "Because we need to get back to work. I had a very interesting chat with Aria and we need to check some things out…"
The squad gathered in the Comm Room later that evening.
"We've been tracking the telemetry from Oriana's tracker," I began without preamble. "It went straight to one location: the Anadius system in the Horsehead Nebula. And it hasn't budged since."
"Are we heading there next?" James asked.
"That may be premature," EDI objected. "Kai Leng has had ample time to rendezvous with another ship and leave the shuttle behind—perhaps with an armada lying in wait to ambush anyone who comes to investigate."
"Which is why we won't be going in just yet," I replied. "Engineering's busy assembling some recon probes. Once they're ready, we'll swing by the Pax system and drop them off there. If the Anadius system's a red herring, we'll know soon enough. (5) But if Cerberus has a base there, then there'll be traffic going back and forth. And that traffic has to go through the Pax system."
"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Garrus wanted to know. "Wait for Cerberus to make their next move?"
"Not this time." I imagine the smile that spread across my face was more than a little feral. "This time, we're the ones taking the initiative."
I quickly outlined Aria's plan. "Obviously there are a lot of unknowns," I finished. "Like this general who's in command of the occupation. What do we know about him?"
"He served as a corporal in the Alliance during the First Contact War," Liara said, "where he proved his tactical brilliance and strategic acumen by holding off repeated turian attacks for weeks until the Citadel Council intervened and brought an end to the war. For his efforts, he received several official commendations and promotions."
"However, his experiences also included a firsthand account at how ruthless the turians could be at waging war," Miranda added. "No offense, Garrus."
"None taken," Garrus replied.
"As time passed, he became increasingly critical with the direction the Alliance was taking as far as integration with the Council races was concerned and what that meant for humanity's future," Miranda continued. "Indeed, he found more common ground with Cerberus. In the end, he defected to the Illusive Man's side, where he has served ever since."
"Anything else you can tell us, Miranda?" I asked.
"Petrovsky is an avid scholar of military history. During the brief time I spent with him, he would often recommend operations inspired by battles from the First and Second World Wars, or quote the likes of Field Marshal von Moltke, General Douglas MacArthur or Henry Kissinger."
"Well, he must have learned something if he kicked Aria off Omega," I said.
"Then why is Aria insisting you go alone?" Tali wondered. "Clearly retaking Omega won't be an easy task. Wouldn't it make more sense if the squad comes with you? Or see if Admiral Hackett could spare any ships."
"Reputation," I replied. "Sure, Aria could have approached Admiral Hackett or any other military official from the Alliance. She could have gone to one of the other races and talked to any one of their military or government officials. Hell, she could've gone to the Citadel Council itself. But that would put her in a position of weakness, as if she has to beg someone else for help to take back what's hers. She's already lost some face from being ousted from Omega to begin with. If word got out that she was asking for help, she would lose whatever reputation she still has.
"Instead, she's built up a new army—and navy—made up of men and women who've sworn their loyalty to her. She's co-opted a Spectre, stole him right under the Council's collective nose, and used him to take back what she sees as hers. She's brought together this armada for one reason and one reason only: to drive Cerberus off Omega and retake what's hers. And if she succeeds, she'll be all the stronger for her struggles."
James scratched his head. "Um… and we're okay with that? I've been to Omega. It was a goddamn cesspit of crime and desperation. Mercs, pirates, slavers, murderers—all free to push around anyone who can't stand up for themselves. And Aria was the one who let that all happen. Do we really want her back in charge?"
"A good point," I nodded. "But let's face facts: we can't win the war against the Reapers when we're also waging one against Cerberus. The events on Thessia and the Temple of Athame proved that. We have to take Cerberus out of play if we're going to have any chance at surviving, much less defeating, the Reapers. If we defeat them, and win this war, then we can worry about the repercussions of restoring Aria to power. Miranda?"
Miranda took over. "Everyone here is well aware that I am not the only one who became disillusioned with Cerberus after realizing the true scope of the Illusive Man's visions, the extremes he was willing to go and the atrocities he allowed in the pursuit of his goals. I've gathered a small group of former colleagues and operatives who have come to similar conclusions. We've been tracking Cerberus movements since the war began and we've pinpointed several sites where they either have assets stored or have operations underway.
"Aria's desire to retake Omega dovetails nicely with the larger goal of bringing down Cerberus, at least as a military force that is splitting up our efforts to fight the Reapers. If she succeeds in reclaiming Omega, the repercussions go beyond the assets she promised Shepard. We will have seriously crippled Cerberus's ability to repair, resupply and upkeep their vessels—you would be surprised how many resources and how much maintenance a starship requires. This will make it harder for Cerberus to deploy their troops, either in reinforcing existing garrisons or in new assaults."
Liara frowned. "Miranda, I've analyzed the data that she provided. Barring some miracle, I don't think her ships will last long enough to deliver anyone to Omega, much less you. The fleet Cerberus has amassed is simply too strong."
"It is," Miranda agreed. "And that's not even taking into account Omega's defences—they were formidable enough to begin with, and Petrovsky's had the better part of a year to make additional upgrades. There's no denying that we need to soften them up if this operation has any chance of succeeding.
"To that end, I propose a series of attacks against the planets where Cerberus has missions underway. Surgical strikes designed to cause maximum damage. The more we put an end to Cerberus operations, the more Cerberus will have to respond by reassigning ships and troops—either to take back lost assets or territory, or to reinforce existing operations. Most likely, they will come from Omega. Directly or indirectly, these reassignments will weaken the Cerberus garrison on Omega and make it easier to launch our own assault."
"And when Omega is weak enough, then this Aria can strike," Javik finished. "Can you afford to wait that long, Commander?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Petrovsky may be stingy with releasing ships and soldiers to reinforce the other Cerberus operations. If so, we'll still be outnumbered when the time comes. But that's a risk we'll have to take: as long as Cerberus controls Omega, they have the freedom to go where they want and attack whenever they please. Our allied forces will never be able to go on the offensive as long as we divide our attention between them and the Reapers. In the long run, we all know where that will lead."
Kaidan leaned forward. "So the way I see it, this whole thing consists of three phases. Phase One: we hit one Cerberus operation after another to hopefully draw off some of the ships and soldiers guarding Omega. Phase Two: Aria's fleet goes through the mass relay and attacks Omega. Phase Three: somehow, Aria's forces manage to put boots on the ground and take back Omega. Right now, Shepard, you're going to be part of Phase Two and Three."
"Right," I nodded.
"Presumably, the Normandy will handle Phase One."
"Yep."
"Even with that monster of a drive core, the Normandy can only go so fast. Which means the squad can only attack so many targets in a given time. Miranda, can your colleagues pitch in?"
"They're already in position," Miranda confirmed. "We just have to give them the word."
"Then that's the plan," I declared. "Miranda, you know the location of your assets and the Normandy's speed. Draw up a schedule: what targets are to be attacked, in what order, who hits them and when the attack goes down. Meanwhile, I'll see if Hackett can help us out. And I'll try to convince Aria to stand by."
I looked around at everyone. "This is it, people. Cerberus is finally going to get a taste of their own medicine. We've got a lot of work ahead of us. Dismissed."
Just as the squad was leaving, Traynor got in touch. "Commander, Admiral Hackett is available on vid-comm. He'd like to speak with you."
I headed straight for the Comm Room and activated the holo-relay. "Admiral Hackett," I said, saluting him as soon as his image materialized. "Thank you for getting back to me so quickly."
"Your message was intriguing, albeit a bit cryptic."
"E-mail encryptions only go so far," I reminded him. "For that matter, I haven't been able to test how secure this form of communication is either."
"Neither have I, but for now it's the safest option we have. You mentioned something about a prolonged assault against Cerberus. Perhaps you could elaborate."
I quickly summarized the events of the last day: Aria's proposal, the intel she provided, the intel Miranda's people had gathered and the overall plan we'd put together.
"The intelligence briefings I've received confirm your findings," Hackett said. "Cerberus is definitely using Omega to resupply and repair their vessels for new offensives. For that matter, they've been able to move around the Terminus Systems, launch assaults with impunity and retreat to relative safety."
"Which is why I propose a coordinated series of strikes against known Cerberus operations in conjunction with the assault on Omega. It will divert their forces and slow their advance throughout Citadel territory, not to mention possibly leaving their flank vulnerable. If we can take Omega away as well, it could allow us to finally go on the offensive for a change."
"I tend to agree. Done correctly, this could be a crippling blow to Cerberus."
"I'm glad you mention that. 'Done correctly,' that is."
Hackett's eyes narrowed. "You want something." He didn't make it a question.
"The Sixth Fleet."
"What?!"
"Or the Seventh. I'm not picky. I know most of the fleets are already committed elsewhere, but the Sixth and Seventh Fleets are free."(6)
"Shepard, I've got them committed as well. They aren't available."
"Permission to speak freely?"
"Granted."
"You've got the Sixth Fleet doing long-range recon and the Seventh Fleet handling limited, low-risk assignments. And you've given them standing orders to fall back as soon as there's the slightest risk. I get that you're reluctant to commit them to a single target, especially when you want to conserve their strength for the final mission to retake Earth. But sir: we're not going to win this war—against Cerberus or the Reapers—by running away from the enemy. All that will do is tear their morale to shreds. If you want them to wait for tomorrow, then you need to give them something to do today. Something big. Something soon."
"Something like helping Aria T'Loak take back Omega."
"It's worth the risk."
"Perhaps. But the Seventh Fleet really isn't available. I can't go into details, but they can't be pulled off their current assignment. As for the Sixth Fleet, they're scattered across the galaxy. Without the intelligence they're providing, we would be on the verge of defeat by now."
Then he gave an audible sigh. "Mind you, I had explored the option of taking Omega away from Cerberus. At the time, I couldn't spare the ships or manpower required. Having Aria's forces assume most of the responsibility offers a new opportunity."
Translation: let Aria and her forces act as the cannon fodder. A bit calculating, maybe, but I had to admit that the thought had crossed my mind. "Plus, if this succeeds, you won't have to spare the men and women to handle any sort of transition."
"Agreed. Let me take another look at the fleet deployments. I'll see if I can pull some ships off and form a task force. Until then, your plan is approved."
"Thank you, sir."
"Hackett out."
Now that I'd gotten Hackett's OK, it was time to get Aria onboard. This could take a little more work. I placed a call using the frequency Bray had given me and waited.
Thankfully, I didn't have to wait too long. "Yeah?"
"Bray! How're you doing? Having a good day so far?"
"Cut the crap, Shepard. You ready to do this or not?"
"Sure am. But I need to talk to Aria first."
"Why?"
"I'm gonna make her an offer she can't refuse."
"What?"
Apparently, Bray had never watched The Godfather. (7) Either that, or he was still wrapping his head around the idea of a guy who didn't jump to Aria's beck and call. "Never mind. Just get a hold of her, will ya?"
"Hang on."
It took about five minutes for Aria to get on the line. "Shepard."
"Aria."
"You have an offer."
One thing I liked about her: she had a habit of getting straight to the point. Kinda refreshing. Well, I could do the same. "How'd you like to increase your chances of reclaiming Omega?"
"I'm listening."
I laid out our plan. At first, she wasn't happy. "You want me to sit on my ass and wait."
"You've been waiting this long, you can wait a little longer," I replied. "Especially if there's a chance we can draw some of those Cerberus ships away from Omega. I had my people go over the numbers—you know, the numbers you weren't exactly eager to hand over. They say that right now, we're hopelessly outnumbered. Even in the most optimistic simulations where you actually survive long enough to take Omega back, you wind up losing it because your forces are too depleted and weakened to hold on to it. If there's a chance that we can improve the odds, don't we have to try?"
"It's easy for you to say. Omega's not your home."
"Neither is Earth," I retorted. "I was never born there, you know. Just like you weren't born on Omega. But I'm trying to take it back all the same. I started the war by fleeing Earth in the face of the Reaper invasion. I've spent this entire war forcing myself to play the long game, bide my time and gather my strength. So I know how much it sucks to force yourself to sit on your ass. I know how much you want to drop everything and go. Right now. But you can't. Not if you want to win. And I think you know that. Otherwise, you wouldn't have waited this long. You wouldn't have approached me with this plan."
Aria took a while to reply. No doubt she was chomping at the bit to get going. But even she had to concede that charging off half-cocked wasn't the best idea. "You're not going to drag this out forever, are you?"
"No. Just long enough for the Normandy and our ex-Cerberus agents to draw blood. And maybe for Admiral Hackett to gather elements from one or two Alliance fleets to help out. Meanwhile, you could use this time to try and find some more recruits. There must be some guns-for-hire that you haven't picked up yet. Or maybe see if one of the Big Three can spare some mercs or ships."
"The who now?"
"You know: Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack."
"You realize no one calls them the Big Three."
"My point is while you're waiting, you might as well take advantage of the opportunity to bolster your forces. Assuming you're willing to wait."
"Yes. Fine. We'll wait."
The last couple days had seen a lot of challenges. I'd managed to deal with the latest Cerberus atrocity—which, even by their standards, was spectacularly horrific—without too many nightmares. I'd managed to convince Miranda that Oriana wouldn't dissolve if she stopped watching her. I managed to keep Oriana from killing Miranda out of sheer frustration. I'd come up with a half-baked scheme to help a known criminal make a comeback to beat all comebacks. I'd convinced Hackett to divert military resources to help said known criminal. And I'd convinced said known criminal to wait before initiating her part in said half-baked scheme.
None of that compared to watching the Normandy depart without me.
To say I had mixed feelings would be an understatement. The crew—and the squad—had their role to play and I had mine. Still, she was my ship. Only for a couple years, mind you, but it felt like a lifetime. The things I'd seen and done while walking along her decks. To see her leave without me seemed… wrong, somehow. Like she was moving on without me, leaving me behind. But it had to be done. For the mission. For the cause.
So I made my final rounds, saying my goodbyes to my squadmates and my crew. I spent one final, cherished night with Miranda—both of us, without saying a word, hoping that it would not be our last. And then I departed, in the company of a trusted ally and friend.
I should explain.
The original plan was to join Aria on my own, humouring her desire to leave the Normandy and my squad behind. The squad, apparently, had other plans. But I didn't find that out at first. No, I walked through the CIC, saying my final goodbyes. Entered the airlock and waited for the doors to close. Stood patiently while the airlock went through its decontamination cycle before deciding it was safe to let me go. Stepped out into the docking bay of the Citadel.
And saw Garrus patiently waiting for me, travel bag sitting on the floor by his feet. "Took you long enough," he said.
"What're you doing?" I asked in confusion. "The Normandy's about to depart."
Garrus gave me a pitying look. "Shepard. Come on. Did you really think we'd let you do this alone?"
"Well, I was under the impression that I was the commander."
"A fantasy we let you indulge in from time to time."
"Very kind of you."
"We thought so."
"'We'?"
"Don't tell me we have to spell things out for you."
"No, I think I can figure it out."
"In all seriousness… you're about to go off on another life-or-death mission, surrounded by ruthless, vicious killers. Someone has to watch your back."
I must confess, I felt a lump in my throat. Knowing I wouldn't have to do this alone, without any proven friend or ally to cover my ass, was an incredible relief. Not that I could admit to anything, of course. "And you drew the short straw," I said instead.
"Shitty luck," he shrugged. "Story of my life."
I wish I could say that Garrus and I had a blast, hanging out by ourselves in a sweet bachelor pad. Watching sports games, drinking beer, yakking about cars, that sort of thing. Not that I know anything about sports or cars, but you get the idea.
Sadly, reality had other plans.
When we weren't obsessively honing our sharpshooter skills in the practice range, we had our own things to take care of. A fresh influx of turian refugees flooded the Citadel the day after the Normandy left and Garrus was feverishly busy trying to get them settled and make sure their needs were being looked after. I gathered things didn't go so well considering how agitated he looked each time he came back to our dilapidated room.
I wasn't much better. Using all the resources available to me as an Alliance officer and a Spectre, I'd been trying to gauge the progress of our little operation. Sadly, despite the best efforts of Miranda's group—who still refused to call themselves 'Charlie's Angels'—and the Normandy, Omega's defenses remained strong. According to the intel I was able to gather, ships and troops did leave in response to the numerous distress calls that Cerberus put out. But the Cerberus fleet still outnumbered Aria four-to-one. Charging in and firing broadsides wouldn't cut it.
And then Admiral Hackett got in touch with me. He wasn't the bearer of good news. Neither was I, when I brought his intel back to Garrus.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, once I filled him in.
"Hackett had his best people go over it. They're sure."
"Then we've got a problem," he said gravely. "According to this intel, Omega is due to get reinforcements from Cerberus in three days. Was Aria able to find any more troops?"
"Yeah. But they won't get here for at least four."
"Options?"
"Looks like we'll have to begin without them."
"What about the Alliance task force?"
"Looks like we'll go without them too. We've run out of time."
Garrus sighed. "If we lose this opportunity, Shepard, we may not get another one. We'll be right back where we started."
"We have a chance," I decided. "We can take the forces we have, make our way through the mass relay and attack Omega now. It's our only chance."
The two of us stared at each other, as the gravity of the situation sank in.
"Let's do it," Garrus nodded.
And just like that, we were committed. The battle to retake Omega had begun.
(1): Keep It Simple, Stupid. (2): Shepard fails to realize that his exceptional skill in improvising and adapting to unforeseen circumstances might have been one of the reasons why Aria sought him out. (3): To put one's head on the chopping block is a human euphemism for taking, or being subject to a great risk. Not to be confused with the more medieval and literal means of execution. (4): Kelly—or 'Felicia'—subsequently cut her hair and dyed it blonde. (5): Yet another human euphemism for something misleading or distracting, intended to divert one's attention from the real issue at hand. (6): The Second and Fourth Fleets were destroyed when the Reapers invaded Earth. The First, Third and Fifth Fleets, which had not been restored to full strength following the Battle of the Citadel three years prior, were sent to the front lines. As for the Eighth Fleet, it was badly decimated by the Reapers—once during the initial invasion and again when they tried to regroup at a secret Alliance station orbiting Ontarom. The surviving ships were subsequently tasked with harassing Reaper ships, providing covers for colonists fleeing the area and defending a strategic ground-based communications hub on Ontarom.