The Last Harvest
Chapter Two
The frigate Star Strider was unlike any minbari ship even Draal had seen. Traditionally, minbari vessels were taller than they were wide, but this one was of a flatter design more akin to turian or human ship profiles.
"It works better with the stealth tech we got from the humans," Captain Reenac explained. "Also, this configuration is better for a smaller ship. We haven't used frigates before – most of the Warrior clans didn't see the point of small ships until they analysed the tactics of various Council fleets and found out about the value of speed, stealth and agility as well as just firepower.
"We were only able to develop it so quickly because the basic design is a Worker caste light transport. All we needed to do was beef up the engines and add the military tech. Worker ships already have sturdy hulls, but we purchased a license for Silaris armour as well."
As the Star Strider nosed out of the docks, Vegas' team were called to the Observation Deck. "You might want to see this!" The XO had advised.
'This' was a new ship just arriving at Babylon 5. An immense vessel that bore no resemblance to any ship in any of the Council fleets.
"What the Hell is that?" Lorn asked.
Vega, as a Senior Spectre based at the station, had been briefed in.
"That," he told them, "is the CSV Synthesis. It's taken twenty years -ten to design, ten to build – her. The idea came out of the Crucible Project in the Reaper War. Every race has collaborated in the design and construction."
"The Crucible showed us what we can achieve when we work together." Samara said. "It was one of the things Admiral Hackett was proudest of. I am pleased that something was learned from it, even if the first fruit is a dreadnought."
"She's more than a dreadnought." Vega said. "She's got half again the firepower of the old Destiny Ascension, true. But she also has six flight decks, with capacity for up to twenty-four squadrons of fighters and fifty shuttles. She carries twenty heavy assault tanks and another twenty fighting vehicles. She also has four rotating companies of ground troops. With a geth AI and salarian comms, she can receive and correlate tactical input from two hundred ships in real time, making her a mobile command centre as well as a floating fortress.
"She was meant to be the flagship of the new Combined Fleet, but they've sent her out here to bolster B5s Defence Fleet."
"Then the threat's bigger then we thought." Mordin opined.
"You said it, Shakespeare!" Vega responded. "But we've got our own job to do, and we're comin' up on the Mass Relay now!"
Jeff 'Joker' Moreau had abandoned his Admirals' uniform for his old Flight Lieutenants' gear, Shepard noticed. "We're gonna have to take your name off the Memorial Wall!" Was his greeting.
"You don't seem too surprised." Shepard noted.
"He is not." Jokers' wife, the synthetic EDI, replied. "When we got your message, I was rather taken aback, but Jeff just said that they'd killed you once before and all it did was piss you off."
"No body." Joker said. "When they went through what was left of the Citadel, they found Anderson and the Illusive Man -did he shoot himself? – but no trace of you. Same as when the original Normandy went down. They never found your body then, and two years later, you turned up. You left it a bit longer, this time!"
"I've been busy." Shepard allowed. "I wasn't expecting you to turn up in our old ship, though! Thought they'd have scrapped her years ago!"
EDI shook her head. "At the end of the War, the Normandy was still one of the most advanced ships in the Fleet, and of course all the fleets had been reduced by the Reapers. As a result, she remained in active service until five years ago."
"She ended up being my personal flagship." Joker said. "They wanted to give me a dreadnought, but one of the perks of being an admiral is getting to choose your own ship. But she's an old lady now, and she's not up to another refit, so I had them mothball her. She's scheduled to be a floating museum. But when we got your message, I called in some favours and got her out. Thought you might like one last trip in her."
"It does feel like coming home." Shepard allowed. "How about you, EDI? Is she still part of you?"
EDI shook her head. "The geth upgraded this platform years ago. I was able to download all of myself into it. But I can still integrate with the Normandys' systems. It is, as you say, like coming home."
By this time, Shepards' squad had squared themselves away and come into CIC. Benezia greeted Joker and EDI enthusiastically.
"Uncle Joker! Aunt EDI! I should have guessed when I saw the ship! You guys gone AWOL?"
"Hey, Zia! Not so hard, kid, mind my ribs!" Joker wheezed. "We're officially on leave. This one trip, then we have to go to B5. They've given me command of the Synthesis. My last tour before they retire me. They call it an honour, but I'd sooner be flying it, even if it is a brute!
"So, where to, Commander?"
"Ilos." Shepard said.
Admiral Nyreen Victus had a lot on her shoulders. She was not only the daughter of the Primarch who had led the Hierarchy through the Reaper war, but the sister of a man who had died a hero, saving Tuchanka and the krogan-turian alliance. Expectations of her were high.
Oddly, the fact that she was one of a very few women to rise this high in the military was not a factor. Turians took duties seriously, and motherhood was a duty which turian women took exceptionally seriously. It meant that most women who had military careers abandoned them to raise their kids. When they were ready to return to work, they found that promotion was faster in other roles, so changed careers and rose high. Promotion in the military was notoriously slow, so a clever, ambitious woman went elsewhere. Nyreen, however, had been wounded as a young soldier in the Battle of Earth. She had recovered with no physical impairment except an inability to reproduce, so she had stayed in the military, moving to Fleet from Army, and rising though the ranks as per the meritocratic practices of her people.
Now, however, she faced the biggest challenge of her career. The plan she had cooked up with Geth Fleet Command was high-risk, but if it worked, countless lives would be saved.
The turian Fourth, Sixth and Tenth Fleets waited in the shadow of a gas giant that lay between the orbits of the systems' only colony -an asari one – and its' Mass Relay. The planet was currently at a point in it's orbit that placed it where any fleet coming through the Relay must pass within a few thousand kilometres of it to reach the colony.
One Mass Relay away was the shadow fleet. That systems' lone human colony had already been evacuated by the elcor under salarian escort, as had this systems'. The massive elcor freighters made for ideal evacuation transports. But care had been taken to keep the colonys' systems running, so that it looked as if it was still inhabited. That, along with the shadows ability to sense, but not precisely place, life-forms, would hopefully keep them coming long enough…. The Relay flared into life.
The enemy fleet proceeded as it had done every time it reached a new system. A vanguard of corvettes, frigates and destroyers to seek out defences, followed by the bulk of the fleet escorting the planet-wrecker. As per the plan, the lighter craft of the Tenth attacked the flank of the vanguard, while the heavies of the Fourth and Sixth went for the escorts.
Fixed on their targets, the shadows were slow to react. They were also surprised to discover that Nyreen had been at pains to make sure all her fleets had the upgraded shields that not only clouded telepathic sensors, but absorbed much of the 'scream' attack the shadows used to freeze opponents. But the battle was still uneven; even three fleets strong, the turians were outnumbered by at least five to one. But Nyreen had achieved her goal, and the invasion fleet was fully committed. She nodded to her Comms officer, who sent a single micro-burst signal.
Only one fleet in the Galaxy could detect that signal, and now the geth fleet, which had been waiting in the systems' oort cloud, made its' move. The geth came in fast, invisible to their telepathic enemies, and concentrated the awesome firepower of their massive fleet on one target. The shadow planet-wrecker.
"All ships, keep them busy!" Nyreen ordered. "Stop them from finding the geth!" Now let's hope that big ship can't hold out too long!
The shadow planet-wrecker was not a typical ship. At the core was a spherical craft that generated a mass effect field in which floated hundreds of powerful missiles. These could be directed singly or in a volley at the chosen target, while the ship at the centre manufactured more by scavenging material from the worlds it destroyed. The geth heavy ships directed their fire at the sphere, but the smaller ships targeted the missiles, detonating them where they floated.
The strategy proved unexpectedly successful. The missiles hit exploded spectacularly, setting off their neighbours, trebling the damage to the core ship and doing more than a little harm to the escort vessels packed close around it in response to the turian attack. It was less than five minutes before geth Fleet Command announced: "Planet-wrecker destroyed. We will cover your retreat, Admiral."
"All ships, disengage!" Nyreen ordered. "Get the Hell out of here! Regroup at the rendezvous point!"
There was no pursuit, in the end. The loss of their planet-wrecker clearly panicked the shadows, who broke off almost at once and made for the Mass Relay. That made things easier for the allied fleets, who might otherwise have been faced with a six-day journey to the next Relay.
The fact that not only had the main target been destroyed, but also at least a quarter of the shadow fleet, was enough to call the mission a success. But Nyreen had lost a third of her ships and casualties were in the hundreds. The geth had also lost perhaps a quarter of their ships in covering the turian retreat, but as Fleet Command pointed out, the geth themselves were backed up to the servers on Rannoch, so there were no actual casualties.
"But," the command platform said softly, "many of us had friends among your dead, and we feel their loss keenly."
"Thank you." Nyreen said sincerely. She had worked with the geth for long enough to realise that these were true AIs, and that despite their synthetic bodies and software minds, they did have feelings. "Do we have any idea of where they might have gone?"
"The STG scouts report that the shadow fleet has retreated Rimward into uncharted space." Fleet Command said. "They advise strongly against following. They have lost expeditions in that quadrant."
"We should get back to Council space and get reinforcements." Nyreen said. "They won't just go away, or stay away for long!"
Lennier had his doubts about answering the request, but Ambassador Delenn had been adamant.
"If the vorlon has something it wishes to say to you, then you had best hear it." She had insisted. "None of our attempts at interrogation have been successful so far -Kosh speaks in riddles, as it always has. It may speak more plainly to you, but even if that does not happen, we will at least have something else to work on.
"We are in no position to ignore anything it might say."
BSec were obviously serious about keeping the vorlon under wraps. Lennier had had to obtain permission directly from Chief Garibaldi, and the guard at the door consisted of a former asari Commando and a hulking krogan.
"I got some pain-killers." The krogan told him. "You'll need 'em when you come out!"
"Talking to the vorlon for more than five minutes is guaranteed to give you a major headache!" The asari added.
The vorlon was standing facing the main screen in it's quarters. It had been given access to entertainment channels, but not news. Kosh had, however, requested access to historical databases, specifically human ones. As Lennier entered, the vorlon seemed to be viewing a series of static, two-dimensional images depicting some kind of battle. Lennier had a confused impression of humans in elaborate uniforms, mounted on large quadrupeds and armed with swords and spears, charging into the teeth of some kind of primitive artillery. A male voice intoned over the images:
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
Lennier was about to announce his presence when the voice stopped and the image faded, to be replaced by a star-field.
"A strange race." Kosh said without turning. "They hate war, but fight as fiercely as krogan. They resist authority at every turn, yet are as disciplined as turians. They despise cleverness, but produce intellects to match the asari or salarians. They dislike waiting, but are as patient and methodical as the minbari.
"How does one measure the capacity of a species which can so defy every instinct it possesses? A race that should never have survived, but is now one of the great powers of the Galaxy?"
"I am no expert on humans." Lennier said. "I respect and admire those I know, but that applies to members of other races as well. If you wish to understand them, you should speak with them."
"We fear what we do not understand." Kosh replied. "More than other races, this is true of mine. I fear the humans, therefore we all do."
"Is that why you're trying to destroy them?" Lennier asked.
"Yes." Kosh replied.
"Is this why you asked me here?" Lennier probed.
"This place changes perspective." Kosh told him. "What was once obscure is now clear. What were once accepted truths become comforting delusions. My people cannot accept this, and will act according to the old certainties. I take the way of the humans, and resist my instincts.
"Take the pad on the table. Send the message to the address given there. I am not permitted external communications. Only the one for whom it is intended can read it.
"The station is in peril. Only the Thief, the Corsair and the Wild Child can save it."
"You've done nothing to make us trust you." Lennier warned.
"Because you cannot trust me." Kosh admitted. "But if the station is destroyed, so am I, and it is not yet my time."
Kosh would not reply to any further questions, so Lennier took the pad and left. On the way out, he accepted the pain-killers the krogan guard offered.
"This place hasn't changed much." Joker allowed. "I'd have figured Liara at least would've wanted to come back – all those prothean ruins."
Shepard shrugged. "There are more important things to worry about nowadays." He said. "I think everyone was getting a little worried about our dependence on what the protheans left behind. The hanar made a big thing about leaving the Enkindlers in peace, and since we've pretty much got everything out of the Mars Archive and the other major prothean sites, nobody's willing to finance an expedition here.
"The planet isn't exactly hospitable, and the Mu Relay isn't considered safe enough for civilian ships."
"Not to mention we're on the far side of Terminus." EDI remarked. "The general feeling is that anything we could get from here isn't worth the risk."
"So why are we here?" Joker asked. "I could understand it if the Conduit still worked, but that pointed to the Citadel, not B5."
"I'm here to meet somebody." Shepard explained. "The reason we're meeting here is because nobody ever comes here. None of the Council worlds monitor the place, even Aria ignores it. More importantly, neither the shadows nor the vorlons have ever been near the place!
"Do we still have a shuttle on board?"
"We do." Joker answered. "It's an old Kodiak -supposed to be part of the museum display. They were going to use it to ferry parties across to see the ship, so it'll still fly. Not like the Hammerhead, that's just a stripped-out shell."
"Good." Shepard said.
Joker piloted them down himself, to the exact spot where, almost three-quarters of a century ago, he had performed a spectacular manoeuvre to drop Shepard and his team in the Mako tank. That had marked the beginning of the end for the indoctrinated turian, Saren Arterius, and his plan to let the Reapers in from Dark Space. But it had only been the opening salvo in the larger conflict.
"Is this it, then?" He asked Shepard. "Will we see each other again?"
"Not sure." Shepard admitted. "But there's one Hell of a fight coming, and one way or another, we'll both be in it!"
"Well, I'll know where you are, then." Joker said. "I'll just look for the biggest bangs!"
They clasped hands, then stepped back and saluted each other.
"Godspeed, Admiral!" Shepard said.
"Same to you, Commander!" Joker replied.
As the shuttle left, Shepard and his squad turned toward the great door. The last time Shepard had been here, those doors had been closed tight, and the whole place had been crawling with hostile geth heretics. Now the doors were open as he had left them, but a small group of people stood just on the threshold. A young man, a young woman, an older man, and the figure who drew Shepards' attention at once.
She was not very tall, blonde, pretty rather than beautiful. Her clothes were slightly eccentric, especially the long coat she wore over all. But to Shepard's' eye, she radiated power and authority. There was warmth in the power, and kindness in the authority, but both were real.
She stepped forward and put out a hand, speaking in a voice Shepard recognised.
"Commander Shepard? We've never met properly, have we? But we do have a mutual friend. I'm the Doctor."
Jacob Taylor slipped aboard Babylon 5 on a military transport. Civilian traffic was pretty much at a standstill right now, and he was glad he still had enough pull, or enough grateful friends, to get him passage. He made his way to a quiet bar in the Zokolo and sat at a table. He hadn't heard anyone approach, but he hadn't expected to, so he wasn't surprised when the woman took the seat opposite him.
"Hey, Jacob, long time no see." Kasumi Goto said. "How's Brynn and the kids?"
"Busy and worried." Jacob said. "Glad I got myself a civilian job, but not happy about this."
"Don't shoot the messenger!" Kasumi chuckled. "The message said to summon the Thief, the Corsair and the Wild Child who followed the Hero to the centre."
"Shepards' mission to the Collector Base." Jacob said. "You're the Thief, and I was a Corsair once. The Wild Child?"
"Jack, of course." Kasumi told him. "She's waiting at the safe house. I only met you here to make sure you weren't followed. Our intel has been good so far but the source is a little suspect. We had to be sure."
"I'm thinking this isn't official, then?" Jacob noted.
"Oh, it's official!" Kasumi assured him. "Council authorised, but deep black. The opposition has ways of knowing things even the salarians can't figure out or counter. So only a very few people know about this.
"C'mon, let's get somewhere less public. I'll warn you, Jack's mellowed a little, but not much!"
They made their way to the safe house – actually an apartment in a modest residential block – where they found Jack pacing around.
"Jacob." She said. "Married life suits you, you look good. Still in shape as well."
"Hey, Jack." Jacob replied. "You hardly look a day older yourself!"
She shrugged. "All that eezo and dark energy sloshing around in my system's done something to my aging process. I keep wondering if I'm gonna turn into an asari!"
"We've seen weirder things." Jacob allowed. "So, what's the job?"
"You ever hear of a guy named Pablo Connell?" Kasumi asked.
Jacob nodded. "Worked with him when I was with Cerberus. Demolitions expert. Just a kid, then, but he could design bombs better than the STG. They never caught him, did they?"
"Seems not." Jack said. "But we got a tip-off, which we followed up, and we know he's here on the station and up to his old tricks."
She summoned up a holograph of the station schematics. "When they designed this place, they built in four spots where charges could be placed to break the station apart. They figured it would need replacing someday, and it would be easier to crack it into sections and tow them away to be broken up. Of course, if that happened when the station was operational and inhabited, everybody would die, so the locations were designated ultra-top secret."
"But somebody found them?" Jacob asked.
"Yep." Kasumi said. "We don't know how, and that's a problem for somebody else. Our problem is that Connell is down there, with some shadows, planting bombs at those points!
"Now they're only accessible by the maintenance corridors. The corridors are patrolled by maintenance drones, but the drones are programmed to ignore anything bigger than a rat."
"Why?" Jacob asked.
"Because they kept on getting security alerts." Jack said sourly. "The drones would detect duct rats -the homeless kids who live and play down there - or hobos. BSec would go charging down and either the kids would be long gone – they know the system too well to be caught -or they'd find some old drunk who'd spend a night in a cell, have a shower and a meal at the stations' expense, then go straight back to the ducts.
"When they reprogrammed the drones, the hobos took to begging in the streets to get arrested. The duct rats are still there – we know that because the bodies turn up from time to time."
Jack scowled. Her own horrendous childhood made her empathise with these lost kids, and the knowledge that, no matter how hard everyone tried, so many couldn't or wouldn't be found or rescued, or if rescued, would scurry back to the ducts at the first opportunity, frustrated her.
"Obviously, the drones would detect and remove any anomalous tech, like a bomb." Kasumi went on. "But we figure Connell will have shielded them."
"He will." Jacob said. "He'll also have failsafes on the detonators and all kinds of security tech. But I know his work, I'll know the devices when I see them."
"And if I can't hack them, he's better than me and I really, really doubt that!" Kasumi stated.
"Pablos' good, but not that good." Jacob allowed. "But if he's got shadows with him…."
"That's where I come in." Jack said. "We'll only be taking sidearms, a full-on fire-fight down there could do a lot of damage. But the shadows are very vulnerable to biotics -something we're both pretty good at, Jacob."
"OK." Jacob said. "Let's get started!"