Okay, since I've been threatened with not being allowed to go back on duty until after I go through all aspects of the mandatory counseling, here we are again. This is a log that I'm doing because the shrinks say talking to myself will somehow be therapeutic. At this point the only courtesy I'm prepared to extend them is to not put on open record what I think about them. So. Evangeline Mackenzie Shepard, born to Victor and Hannah Shepard. Brother, KIA, Jonathan Albert Shepard. There, y'all happy?
*long pause*
Anyway. Growing up, I followed Mom and Dad wherever they got posted, they were lucky that the navy was usually able to keep them together on deployments. Or at least assign them to the same station, fraternization rules meant they couldn't actually be part of the same command. Dad usually got posted to the fleet station, while Mom to a ship that was part of the local fleet command. So way things ended up, John and I actually saw more of Dad than Mom while growing up. Maybe that's why Dad seemed to understand us better. Maybe, if Mom had been around more, she might not have nearly killed me.
-Evangeline Shepard, Mandatory Counseling Log 002
Chapter 1
Absit omen
"I understand this is a difficult time for you, Major," Dr. Samantha Frasier began, herself a lieutenant-commander in the Imperial Terran Navy and thus of equivalent rank to one Major Evangeline Shepard, "but I trust you also understand the reservations associated with your case."
Major Evangeline Shepard, Cadre of His Majesty's Own Household Cavalry and former commanding officer of HMS Normandy, regarded the doctor green eyes clear and head tilted.
"The corps doesn't think I'm psychologically fit to return to duty," the major stated bluntly. "You're here to see if I'm an exception to the established models that they're using."
Samantha gave Shepard a tolerant look. "And do you really think your attitude is helping with that, Jane?"
The familiarity was not unwarranted, Lieutenant-Commander Samantha Frasier was part of the staff permanently stationed at Geneva that helped oversee the medical needs of the local garrison, including Cadre personnel. While Samantha had been rotated out every couple of years as part of the usual field deployments the military did to give its personnel breadth in their experiences, those instances where she was back in Geneva had often overlapped with Shepard's own tours in the imperial capital. The two women were not necessarily friends, they did not interact socially enough for that, but they were at least trusted colleagues. Any closer and Samantha might have had to recuse herself to allow another doctor to conduct this interview. As it was, Samantha was finding it already hard enough to maintain an impartial view even without Shepard's stubbornness rearing its head.
"Would me trying to lie my ass off to you help either?" Shepard countered.
"No, I suppose not," Samantha conceded, her lips thinning in slight worry before continuing. "As I was saying, I am here to perform a follow-up interview in light of the results of your psychological fitness evaluation. And you are indeed correct, multiple concerns were raised as to your fitness to return to active duty, a key one being your rationale for wanting to return to duty."
"So I have a chance to kill the bastards that killed John," Shepard said, again with almost casual bluntness.
John, her brother, perhaps the one person in her family that was left that had held true to her throughout the years after their father died. Not even Shepard's own mother could lay claim to that quality, no matter how much Hannah Shepard might regret it.
"Oh Jane," Samantha sighed. "Are you trying to get permanently beached?"
"Nothing of the sort," Shepard responded. "As I previously said, I see no reason why I should lie."
Even so, the truth might not be of much help here either.
"The navy is not there as a means for you to pursue a personal vendetta," Samantha said reproachfully. "Furthermore, you are one of His Majesty's sworn armswomen. Do you really think it is becoming of you to use the uniform like that?"
Shepard's eyes flickered slightly before she answered. "Since my graduation from the academy, I have completed two tours of duty and therefore have also completed all of my requisite service as stipulated by my commissioning. Were I to submit my resignation here and now, there would be no procedural grounds to deny it, after which point any actions I undertake thereon would not be under naval jurisdiction."
Samantha's own eyes widened as she caught onto Shepard's implications.
"My request to be returned to active duty therefore is an offer to the navy, and indeed to His Majesty, to determine some way in which my, vendetta as you call it, might be gainfully employed by the Empire to achieve some useful end," the major continued. "If the navy, and His Majesty, come to the determination that that is not possible, then let it be known and I will have a letter of resignation on the appropriate desk this afternoon."
"Jane," Samantha said, softly but purposefully. "Are you attempting to blackmail the navy."
"I am attempting to offer the Empire the greatest possible chance to not have to disavow the actions of someone that was awarded the Star of Terra," Shepard answered, her eyes sharpening. "If you want to call it blackmail, then so be it, but know that I did make the offer."
Charles XII, Emperor of the Terran Empire, pursed his lips as he regarded the playback. He then turned his chair about to face a man adorned with the stripes of a marine colonel.
"I take it Commander Frasier has already submitted her evaluation?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," one Alec Ryder answered, without bothering to expand upon what that evaluation might say. Its contents were probably obvious enough.
As one of three currently active colonels within the Imperial Cadre, Alec was on very close terms with his sworn liege. He was also something of a surrogate father to one Evangeline Shepard, having helped Shepard through an especially difficult time when the latter's parents divorced and through an even rougher time when Shepard's biological father died. The intimacy of that relation meant Alec was probably somewhat biased when it came to Shepard, but right now that was the very sort of insight that Charles wanted. For Shepard, as Cadre, was also one of Charles' sworn vassals. That meant for all the duty Shepard was expected to uphold towards the emperor, Charles had an equally binding set of responsibilities to see after the major.
"So what does Alexey say?"
Whereas Alec was merely a colonel in the Cadre, Lieutenant-General Alexander Kosygin was the formal commanding officer of the Cadre itself, with only Charles himself officially outranking the man. Due to the peculiar nature of the Cadre's status vis a vis the rest of the armed forces, that meant the emperor was actually the only person capable of issuing a binding order to the general. Technically not even the war staff that normally oversaw the armed forces could do that.
"General Kosygin is tempted to assign Shepard to latrine duty for the next decade for her, discourtesy," Alec answered, then after a slight pause, "after she gets back from completing her mission."
There was no need to stipulate what mission Alexey meant. While certainly not as close to Shepard as Alec, Alexey was still quite familiar with the major. He had after all signed off on her recruitment to the Cadre after the Torfan operation. And whatever his responsibilities as the Cadre's day to day commander, Alexey was still a passionate and deeply loyal man. He might not have been able to officially endorse Shepard's desire for revenge, but discretely blessing it would be very much in character. Indeed the same could likely to be said for a significant percentage of the Cadre, officer and enlisted alike. All of them knew about what happened to Shepard's brother, and few would begrudge the major's desire to be answered for the loss.
And there lay the exact same quandary for Charles. As Shepard's sovereign liege, he was obliged to answer any injury inflicted upon his vassal. Granted the particular oaths that stipulated as such were older than quite a few of the current imperial laws and might well conflict with several. Then there was the point about whether letting Shepard loose like that actually was to the ultimate benefit of the major, or to the Empire at large. It was a balance of interests that Charles had to weigh, and sometimes the one that won out was not that which was most satisfying emotionally.
"And your own opinion, Colonel?" Charles asked next.
Alec took a deep breath. "Shepard isn't going to stop, Your Majesty, not until whomever killed John is also put down or at least neutralized as a threat. If we want to have any hope of restraining her, to make sure she doesn't cross too many lines in pursuit of that goal, we need to tether her with something that'll constantly remind her of her sense of duty."
"By putting her back on active duty, probably on an independent assignment to investigate and find the perpetrators of the Normandy ambush," Charles said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The emperor stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You do know that all of the psychiatric evaluations and models indicate Shepard is not psychologically fit to return to duty at present."
Namely, that Shepard's judgment could not be trusted to not endanger those under her command with irrational actions.
Alec dipped his head slightly. "And what does Hera say, Your Majesty?"
Charles actually gave a slight grimace there. Hera was the primary AI stationed in Geneva, acting as a synchronization partner for not just Cadre personnel while they were assigned to the city but many other synchronizers as well, including new synchronizers undergoing stage one integration. Indeed that was actually how Shepard first met Hera, when as a child her potential was discovered and she underwent integration at a much younger age than normal. As a consequence, and due to the schism that erupted between Shepard and her own mother at the time, Hera had become like another surrogate mother for the girl. The affection was reciprocated by the AI, even after so many years. Even so, or perhaps because of that affection, Hera could be trusted to provide a completely honest assessment of Shepard's current mentality.
"According to Hera," Charles said slowly and carefully, "the major's neural topology has been at a near constant plateau since she learned about her brother's death."
That saw Alec raise an eyebrow. A person's emotional state could be very quickly discerned by the fluctuations in their neural topology, especially by AIs synchronized with them. Most people also had a sort of baseline pattern, wherein they weren't necessarily angry or happy or sad, when things were in a chaotic equilibrium just waiting to be tipped into one emotion or the other. A plateau on the other hand implied a continual emotional bias, perpetually remaining in a particular emotional state. Physiologically that was extremely unhealthy for a human to the point of being borderline impossible. Augmented synchronizers like Shepard or Alec himself could theoretically do it since their implants were capable of compensating for the biorhythmic imbalance caused by the brain lingering in such a plateau. It was just something extremely unusual to the point that Alec could not recall ever hearing of a previous instance.
"Your Majesty," Alec said after a moment. "In complete frankness, it is my belief that if we put Shepard back on active duty, her sense of responsibility and loyalty will ensure that she carries out those duties without being compromised by her emotional state. Honesty however also compels me to admit that, if and when Shepard is presented with an opportunity to take out whomever killed her brother, she is liable to let that control slip and allow it to impact her judgment."
"Which is the dilemma that I am faced with, Colonel," Charles said with a wry smile. "Because even so aware of that point, I know with certainty that anyone assigned to the major would still have complete faith in that judgment."
In other words, if Charles gave Shepard a command, he could very well be consigning the men and women of that command to their deaths if Shepard lost control. And were that to happen, the major's psychological state may well reach a genuine breaking point. Even if she greatly desired the deaths of her brother's killers, Shepard was not one to throw away the lives of her subordinates. Even more frightening however was the possibility that she could become that callous in pursuit of her vengeance.
"Your Majesty," Alec spoke up again. "You are aware that during the Saren investigation, Major Shepard established connections with countless parties in both Council and non-Council space."
Charles cocked his head aside. "I am so aware." And invited Alec to further elucidate.
"Amongst those contacts is the turian executor of C-SEC," Alec continued, "the salarian representative of the Council, a salarian Spectre, a C-SEC captain that is currently a Spectre candidate, a salarian STG captain, a turian Blackwatch lieutenant, a krogan battlemaster, and the daughter of one of the quarian Migrant Fleet's admirals. How many of those people do you think would be willing to lend her a hand if she were to independently pursue an investigation on the Normandy's attackers?"
To that the emperor's eyes narrowed. It was a possibility that he himself should have considered, seeing as how so many of the Empire's recent diplomatic advancements were due to the bridges Shepard had built.
"At the same time, those same persons can be presumed to still be willing to lend a hand if Shepard's investigation was under imperial sanction," Alec said.
That too was certainly a noteworthy point of consideration. Indeed it certainly tilted the scales regarding Shepard's final disposition. Still.
"That the major is capable of rallying many to her banner is a given," Charles thought aloud. "Whether we could afford to let her use, and potentially even discard, those that do so…"
Alec grimaced. "That I have no answer for, Your Majesty."
Despite having ostensibly raised the question himself, Charles' eyes focused as the pieces clicked into place.
"And yet there may be a pool of personnel whom fit within that criteria," the emperor said.
Alec shot the emperor a quizzical look, which quickly morphed into one of discomfort as the colonel followed Charles' train of thought. The expression Alec now wore was certainly not one of approval, but neither did he give voice to any protest. Perhaps he should have, but Alec held his peace, and prayed fervently that he would not regret his silence.
The woman that stared back in the mirror could be considered beautiful, in a tomboyish sort of way. The green of her eyes certainly shone like emeralds, though perhaps the stone might lose out on hardness. Then there was her bright red hair, which shone with fiery spirit. The beauty that one Evangeline Mackenzie Shepard embodied was however that of a fierce Valkyrie, a maiden of war. And the thorns that covered this particular rose could be very sharp indeed, for whomever dared become close with her.
A knock sounded on the wooden door, stirring Shepard from her melancholic posture. Straightening, Shepard took a deep breath to recompose herself.
"Entrez."
The door opened to reveal one of the palace's servants.
"Commandant, Colonel Ryder est arrivé."
"Merci, je serai là."
The servant dipped her head and retreated. Shepard took another deep breath. She had been a guest of the imperial palace in Geneva for going on two months now, with only very light duties assigned to her on account of her continuing rehabilitation. While the major was not outright going stir crazy, her restlessness was becoming increasingly testing. She wanted to be out there, to be hunting the bastards that had killed her brother. To kill them in turn, if the opportunity was granted, or at the very least to neutralize the threat that these assailants obviously represented. But she remained beached for the time being with no idea when, or even if, she would be given a new command. The waiting gnawed at her. Straightening, Shepard smoothed out her working uniform and cleared her expression of any sign of such disgruntlement. Alec did not deserve having to put up with her whining.
A minute or so later, when Shepard entered the waiting room, she came to an abrupt halt upon seeing the figures seated inside. Yes, Alec Ryder was indeed rising to greet her, but so was His Majesty the Emperor Charles. Recovering quickly, Shepard came to attention and bowed.
"Your Majesty. Colonel."
Charles offered a slight, kindly smile. "Major. If you would be so kind as to join us."
"By your leave, Your Majesty," Shepard answered as she took one of the empty seats.
"You are aware, Major, of the complications of your situation," Charles said without preamble. "Just as we are aware of your desire to be out there now, to exact vengeance for your brother's death."
Shepard said nothing. There was nothing for her to say, yet. Certainly nothing to deny, as everything the emperor had said was true, including that bit about vengeance, however unbecoming it might be for an officer of her standing.
"We would not begrudge you such a path," Charles said, the emphasis on the first word marking the position as that of not just the man himself but also the sovereign Shepard was sworn to. "Nonetheless, it would be negligent of Us if We were to allow you to venture forth on this endeavor without adequate assurances of your success."
Shepard's eyes narrowed. In frankness the emperor's words should not have surprised her, Charles was well practiced in balancing not only the needs of state but also more personal needs. The emperor was also very skilled in making those two needs complement each other, as he demonstrated now.
"Salvage operations in the Amada System were completed recently and we were able to recover the Normandy's wreckage," Alec began speaking. "Reconstructed sensor records have also allowed us to tentatively identify the hostiles that attacked the ship."
Working the console on the center table, Alec brought up a hazy projection of a bulbous, rocky construct. The thing looked more like some asteroid mine than a proper ship.
"The vessel in question is unlike anything we've seen before," Alec continued. "Its size pushes it into dreadnaught class, though its full weapons complement remains as yet an unknown. The weaponry that it did display included a massive particle beam."
The major listened attentively, analyzing the minute details that were being presented. A particle beam like that would ignore kinetic barriers outright, and frigates like the Normandy did not possess the heavy armoring necessary to survive sustained hits. Engaging such a ship would best be done at range, preferably with something that mounted heavier firepower than a frigate, or probably even a cruiser. The emperor was probably not thinking of handing Shepard a dreadnaught though, or the attendant fleet that usually accompanied one.
"The ship matches nothing in our own databases," Alec said, "though the energy signature that the Normandy first picked up matched an unknown contact that the Empire detected shortly after first contact, but which was never properly identified. In light of our near complete ignorance on the matter, th Citadel Council was approached and the salarian representative, Valern, was able to make a few calls with their STG, whom were able to shed some more light upon what this ship is."
A subtle reminder, that, of Shepard's own accomplishments in ingratiating humanity with certain elements of the Council races.
"According to the STG, the ship that attacked the Normandy was a Collector cruiser," Alec said.
Shepard stared somewhat blankly at the colonel, the name Collector not ringing any bells.
"The Collectors are something of an interstellar boogieman," Alec explained. "According to rumors, they pop up in the Terminus Systems from time to time, offering to trade advanced biotech in exchange for living persons of certain qualities. Batarian twins, left-handed salarians, individuals of that nature, if the rumors are to be believed."
For all Shepard's vivid imagination the major could not begin to fathom why the Collectors would be interested in such sampling. Perhaps some sort of genetics analysis? But then why the emphasis on live samples? She doubted the rationale meant anything pleasant for those traded.
"As you can see, Major," Charles spoke anew. "Hunting these Collectors comes with a variety of complications. Indeed to do so successfully likely requires resources beyond that of which the Empire officially possesses."
Whether publicly acknowledged or not, that meant the Empire did indeed have the means to go after the Collectors. Doing so too openly however might draw unwanted attention, or at least the wrong sort of attention. All of the galactic polities understood the necessity of plausible deniability and most were not overly interested in breaking the kneecaps of other states, so long as they could keep their skeletons properly hidden in the closet. It was only when those skeletons tumbled out because the nation in question was too blatant, like the batarians with their slavery, that other polities found themselves forced to act. Of course the threshold at which such lines were crossed differed for the various governments, hence why threadbare tolerance on the part of the asari, salarians, and turians was replaced with steadfast opposition by the terrans in that particular case.
What the emperor was thus insinuating was that whatever means the Empire might employ in hunting for the Collectors would require certain acts that the other races still found within their bounds of tolerance, if the Empire was careful in said employment. But there was always the risk that the Empire's caution was insufficient, that something sufficiently embarrassing might leak. And that when it did, someone would need to take the fall to protect the rest of the Empire. Someone like Shepard.
"Whatever means are necessary, Your Majesty," Shepard stated firmly, "I am prepared to shoulder."
Neither of the two men looked especially happy with Shepard volunteering so readily, for a variety of reasons. But the decision was not theirs to make, not wholly. They could have certainly stood in Shepard's way, but on this singular matter doing so might well bend their relation to her to the breaking point. Above the oaths that bound her, above the surrogate family that nurtured her, Shepard held close within her heart her own blood. It was why her mother's betrayal had cut so deeply, and now why she was steadfastly determined to avenge the death of her brother. Charles and Alec could either help in that endeavor, or never be forgiven for impeding it.
Charles rose, and immediately thereafter so did Shepard and Alec.
"Come with me, Major."
Shepard made to follow, noting how Alec had remained behind. By excluding the colonel, the emperor was in part also protecting him from what came next. That by itself spoke volumes of how sensitive the next few moments would be. Following in her liege's footsteps, Shepard descended down into the palace's lower levels, deeper indeed than she had ever personally gone before. This section had obviously been updated so there were no signs of old, stony foundations. Instead they crossed well-lit corridors before emerging in a sparsely appointed but entirely functional office.
By the side of that office was a large holographic projector, one that allowed for life-size imagery of people to be shown. Working the controls himself, Charles brought the projector to life and they were greeted by a neatly dressed man, one whose cropped hair shifted between silver and gray hues. It was his eyes however that drew the most attention, a pair of blue orbs that were obviously augmented.
"Your Majesty," the man greeted respectively, then. "Major Shepard."
"Major Shepard, meet the Illusive Man," Charles introduced.
Shepard's expression stiffened for a single moment. The major recognized the name, the title really, not merely because she was Cadre. Even within that organization's ranks, those granted the privilege, or rather tasked with shouldering the responsibility, that came with awareness of the Illusive Man and his connections to the imperial family were limited to a select few. Shepard was amongst those few due to the many instances in which she had to clean up after the organization's screw ups, a point which rather strongly colored her own perception of the organization and its leader.
"Cerberus' puppet master."
"I prefer to think of myself as a guiding hand," the Illusive Man responded.
"A firm one, that squeezes when your puppets stray," Shepard said, "or one whose grip is all too easily slipped?"
"Major," Charles reined her in, then to the man in the projection. "We have more important matters to attend to here, Jack."
Shepard's eyebrow quirked upward ever so slightly at that bit. Much of the Illusive Man's effectiveness came from the mystery surrounding him, the lack of a known history that made predicting anything about him difficult. Put a face, but perhaps more importantly a name, to the man, and that aura of mysteriousness was diminished. A reminder for the Illusive Man, or Jack, that however powerful he might think himself to be, there were still those that could rein him in.
"Of course, Your Majesty," the Illusive Man said without showing any hint of being perturbed. "Major, I am sure it is no surprise to you that Cerberus has taken an interest in the Normandy's encounter with a Collector cruiser. Setting aside the encounter itself, we believe it fits in a wider pattern of attacks on human outposts and ships that has been happening in and around the Terminus Systems since the Battle of the Citadel."
Shepard tilted her head. "What sets these attacks apart from the usual pirate and slaver raids?"
"Pirates and slavers tend to leave smoldering ruins in their wake," the Illusive Man answered. "Whomever is behind these attacks, they've left no traces whatsoever."
Shepard felt a slight flicker of irritation. "And you consider the attack on the Normandy to be traceless?"
"That it was the exception is indicative of just how advanced these Collectors are," the Illusive Man responded, "and that traces were left are indicative of the prowess of the Normandy's crew."
That might have sounded like empty flattery, but it was also a peace offering of sorts, the Illusive Man's attempt to get Shepard to stop being so snippy with him. In frankness it was rather childish of her, and the major dipped her head ever so slightly to indicate her provisional acceptance.
"Another thing of note is the manner in which the Normandy was hit," the Illusive man continued. "Namely, the ship had its stealth systems engaged when it came under attack. Only one other entity has possessed the means to penetrate that system."
As the Normandy's former commanding officer, Shepard was acutely aware of what that other entity was. The pieces clicked into place and a glint flashed in her eye.
"Sovereign."
The Illusive Man nodded. "You see why the Collectors are drawing such acute interest, Major."
The connection between these Collectors and the Reapers that the Illusive Man was postulating was still somewhat threadbare, that it was possible to penetrate the Normandy's stealth to begin with meant it was just a matter of statistical probability when the means would be developed by any of the various races that populated the galaxy. There was no reason that someone else completely unrelated to the Reapers might stumble upon those means completely independently. Then again, the consequences if the connection did exist were potentially cataclysmic.
"So what's the plan, then?" Shepard asked.
"The plan, Major, is to identify what the Collectors' objectives are and to as permanently neutralize the threat that they represent as is practicable," the Illusive Man answered. "Unfortunately, as is already evident, we're on the other side of a technological deficit going up against them, even with Cerberus pulling out all the stops. But there's a chance, granted a slim one, that the right team, under the right leader, could pull it off."
And there it was, the means by which she might exact her vengeance, if she was willing to make the necessary compromise. Shepard glanced over at Charles but the emperor remained stoically impassive. It would have to be her decision, and hers alone. The major looked back at the Illusive Man.
"It would be my team," she emphasized, "and we'd be doing things my way."
"But of course," the Illusive Man conceded with surprising readiness. "It would rather defeat the point to recruit you for your skills and then to immediately hobble you."
Shepard raised an eyebrow. An interesting word to use there, recruit. So many ways it could be interpreted. Was the offer of help merely a wedge, by which to tempt her with all that Cerberus could offer. Look here, what you might accomplish if unrestrained by mere law. How much easier things would be if you were unbounded by petty ethics. In accepting their help, Shepard would need to be ever vigilant against such enticements. As tempting as the apple may be, there was no telling which one in the barrel was rotten, or even poisoned.
"So is the team actually assembled, or do I need to do some recruiting?" Shepard asked.
"We are still identifying candidates," the Illusive Man answered, "but before you are ready to lead them, Major, there is one matter that needs settling."
Shepard cocked her head aside. "Oh?"
"We know for a fact that the Reapers are possessed of extremely advanced technology," the Illusive Man said. "We also know they are not shy about augmenting their own agents, to levels that well eclipse even the Empire's Cadre. While you may have defeated Saren, it cannot be denied that the victories were narrow ones."
The major was honest enough with herself to recognize the truth in the man's words, and not to quibble over them due to misplaced pride.
"At the same time, while the Cadre are outfitted with some of the very finest augmentations that humanity has developed, those augments do not represent the very bleeding edge of what is possible."
The major raised her eyebrow at the word choice again. Knowing Cerberus, there likely had been quite the cost in blood to develop whatever it was the Illusive Man was hinting at. Another projection appeared, that of the human body along with highlights of all sorts of implants throughout said body. With her neural connection, Shepard was able to note the technical specifications of the proposed modifications.
"Subdermal armoring, titanium-carbide reinforcement of the bones, a carbon nanotube sheath synthetic muscle augment," Shepard rattled off some of the physical enhancements. "Hmm, an improved nervous relay network as well."
Numbers flitted past her eyes of the force levels the enhancements were theoretically capable of exerting, along with improvements to synaptic response times and other various bonuses.
"The techs are currently calling it an N7+ suite," the Illusive Man narrated. "Significant improvements have been made to the biotic amplifiers, allowing for almost twice the peak power projection as the current N7 series, and without the feedback problems. The other major improvement is in the reaction time. Baseline humans top out at about 200 milliseconds, or 120 milliseconds for purely visual stimulus responses. N7 augments decrease that time to 160 milliseconds and 100 milliseconds respectively. These augments, with proper AI partner support, take it down to 140 and 90 milliseconds."
Arguably they might be reaching the point of diminishing returns with such improvements, but the reaction times the Illusive Man listed played an additional role in how quickly the human mind could interact with stimulus from an AI partner. The closer a human mind could match the frequency of their AI partner, the deeper the synchronization they could achieve. Some researchers theorized that when an AI and human mind achieved perfect synchronicity, what would emerge would be a transhuman singularity. While progress towards greater synchronization made leaps and bounds in the early years of AI development, the percentages had plateaued at approximately 79% since a generation or so ago. Attempts to break past the 80% threshold seemed to run into ever more insurmountable obstacles, ranging from biological limits of the human brain to physical limits of computational hardware.
None of the improvements the Illusive Man listed would see humanity any closer to crossing the threshold, Shepard doubted Cerberus even with its lack of ethical restraints had found a way to circumvent basic biology and physics. Probably the one good quality about the organization was that it was not deterred by failure however, though in retrospect that might count as a bad thing as well.
"None of this seems that out there," Shepard said as she absorbed the technical data. "Why isn't it actively deployed already?"
"Testing of the augments revealed an interesting problem," the Illusive Man answered. "While human physiology was capable of adapting to the enhancements, it appears that the current hardware architecture our AIs use has reached a saturation point. To synchronize and actually take advantage of the new augments required a new generation of AI hardware, one that utilizes quantum blue boxes."
That caused Shepard to blink. Terran AIs had been developed to run on highly interconnected compute platforms that effectively simulated the neural topology of organic brains. The complexity that these networks could grow to were thus heavily dependent upon the amount of hardware made available, but there was a finite upper limit as dictated by transmission bandwidth and the depth of the computational pipeline. Even with these limits, humanity had produced AIs capable of expressing recognizable emotions alongside more rote abilities like pattern recognition.
After humanity came in contact with the galactic community, it had been exposed to the quantum computing systems that underpinned what the galaxy considered conventional AI. Humanity had also possessed quantum computers before first contact, but terran versions were noticeably less sophisticated in various ways. Efforts to port terran AIs to quantum blue boxes began almost immediately after the Empire acquired sample hardware, but it was only now that progress had reached a point where such AIs were being brought online. Case in point, the juvenile SAM AI that Shepard had encountered while visiting Ellen Ryder.
"Interesting," was the only verbalization of all the thoughts that flashed through Shepard's head however.
"You would arguably be the first person to employ this equipment in the field," the Illusive Man said. "Still, considering what we may be up against, you'll probably need every edge you can get."
Another backhanded attempt at beguiling Shepard with promised gifts. The Illusive Man was not being entirely transparent with his desire to recruit Shepard for Cerberus proper, but the man was obviously prepared to test the limits of how far Shepard herself would allow herself to be pushed. In some ways so was the emperor, seeing as Charles had remained silent throughout all these prompts. As for the major herself, as much as she wanted the bastards that killed her brother, she also recognized there was a line that could be crossed in pursuit of that goal. Was she prepared to do so if it meant bringing John's killers to heel? Maybe. That maybe was already dangerous in and of itself. Shepard checked herself before responding.
"So long as the tools you provide continue to have a use, I will use them," the major said. "It falls upon you however to demonstrate that they are actually adequate for the task at hand."
Yes, Shepard would accept the help. But that acceptance was on the major's sufferance, and she would not brook any attempts to conditionalize that aid. Ever so slightly, the edge of Charles' lips twitched as if the emperor was trying to suppress a smile. The Illusive Man remained visibly unperturbed however, he likely did not think it would be that easy to seduce Shepard, and simply nodded.
"That goes without saying."
He was obviously patient enough to not let Shepard's rebuff bother him, not yet at least. Time would tell how long that patience would last.
"Is there anything else that needs to be discussed here?" Shepard asked, leaving it vague as to whom she was addressing so either could answer.
"That will be all for today, Major," Charles finally spoke. "Return to your previous duties."
Shepard clicked her heels together. "By your leave, Your Majesty."
And spun around, without sparing the Illusive Man another glance. Once the door closed behind Shepard, Charles glanced back over at the holographic projection. The Illusive Man returned the gaze unflinchingly.
"Take care with how you handle the major," Charles said evenly. "Shepard is one of mine, and I will brook no missteps regarding her. Is that understood, Jack?"
The Illusive Man took a long huff of his cigarette before answering. "It is, Charles."
Shepard had slept soundly the night before. It was perhaps the first time in months that her sleep actually felt restful. Perhaps it was from relief that her long wait was over, that a decision had finally been made regarding her disposition. Or perhaps she had come to simply accept the perpetual darkening mood that clouded her mind, to treat it as the new normal instead of something through which light might one day shine again. Whatever the case was, Shepard rose from her bed awake and steady.
As she began changing into her uniform, her HUD overplay displayed a notification of a newly arrived message. The major almost dismissed it reflexively, she had had far too many messages flooding her inbox as of late, messages that she was not in any particular mood to deal with. Before she could do so however, in the corner of her eye a name caught her attention. Tazana Kryik. The major's motions came to an abrupt halt.
Kryik. That was a name Shepard had not thought of for a very long time. It felt like a lifetime ago, when another Kryik accompanied Shepard on a highly fraught mission to retrieve a prothean beacon from a research base besieged by geth, and something far worse. It was a mission that nearly saw Shepard die, and did see Nihlus fall, at the hands of someone the turian Spectre had thought was a friend and mentor. It was also there, on Eden Prime, where the mission to stop the Reapers began. A mission that even now continued.
Shepard's eyes lingered upon that notification as the seconds passed by. After Nihlus' death, she had penned a letter to his remaining family, as was her duty seeing as their son had died bearing arms at her side. It had been an extraordinarily difficult letter to write, if only because Shepard had no idea what a grieving turian family might want to hear upon notification of their son's death. She certainly did not know if they would even want to read a human's words on the matter. Still, the major had done her best to be honest and clear to Nihlus' family, both about the circumstances of his death, as much as was possible at the time considering classification levels, and about her own regard for the Spectre.
No response had come, not that Shepard had expected any. No response till now at least. The major felt unnaturally wary about its timing though, as if she dreaded what topic it might broach. Whether this was yet another message of platitudes that she was not in the mood to read. Completely earnest and meaningful platitudes, certainly, but platitudes none the less. Staring at the notification for a few moments longer, Shepard finally dismissed it, and went back to preparing for her day.
End of Chapter 1
I might be laying it on a bit thick here, but there is something to be said for Shepard's current mentality. She's, not exactly suffering from PTSD. In most ways, Shepard is accepting of everything that has happened. She certainly mourns those that have fallen and she certainly wishes she could have done better (and she is still to a degree pissed with her mother), but she isn't caught in any sort of negative feedback loop as a consequence. In some ways Shepard's reaction to her brother's death is an entirely reflexive, almost instinctual response on her part. Someone has caused harm to someone she really, really cared about, and she's going to end them, and she's pursuing this objective with a very single-minded determination.
There is something of a presumption that people reading this story have read the previous entry in the trilogy, A Call to Duty. Even so, I do need to take the effort from time to time to refresh people's memories about the divergences in worldbuilding between my story and the canon ME.
The Illusive Man is handling Shepard very carefully, because he knows that if he pushes her too hard, Shepard might go out of her way to kill him without even waiting for the emperor's say so. Similarly the Illusive Man is showing a degree of deference to Charles, because again the emperor is one of the few people that might be able to successfully order his death. Not that such an order would not have repercussions, if the Illusive Man decided to try to eliminate Charles, that attempt could also credibly succeed. So in a lot of ways Cerberus and the imperial authorities are sort of in an uneasy mutually assured destruction standoff, with the added wrinkle that they both think they want the same thing, humanity's continued advancement. So there exists opportunities for collaboration, but both sides are very careful to not let the other subsume them or gain too much of an advantage over the other.
As many of you already likely know, I have a habit of commissioning drawings to associate with my stories, and indeed the icon used for this story is a small snippet of the larger image I had done. Those of you that have not seen the image yet, you can reconstruct the following link to check it out.
deviantart dot com slash z98 slash art slash Lieutenant-Colonel-Evangeline-Shepard-808976973
As one can see, the augmentation process was not without some scarring. Some of that subdermal armor and cybernetics is peeking through the not entirely healed skin.