So did I end on a suitably dramatic point last time? Yes I'm taking the piss out of these recordings. It's actually rather cathartic to do so, which is supposed to be the entire point, so technically none of you psychiatrists get to complain. After all, what's important is the patient's health and state of mind, not what you lot consider to be a healthy state of mind. If you didn't want this to turn into a rant about all your metrics and models, maybe you should have thought a bit more about mandating these recordings that you then have to review.
*pause*
Suppose I should keep going just so you don't have an excuse to not count this one as part of the mandated number of entries. So, my mother nearly killed me. Not her intention, but to the person on the receiving end, whether something is premeditated or not is kind of moot since, you know, we'd be too dead to care. Except I happened to survive, so I did care. A lot. Especially when she started blaming everyone but herself for nearly killing me. Gave her a piece of mind at that point, told her I'd never let her anywhere near me again, that I'd make damn sure I was protected, from her. That finally got through to her, about how wrong she was. And by being so wrong just this one time, I would always have a reason to never take her for her word. So, yeah. I grew up always second guessing my own mother. Trust me, it sucked.
-Evangeline Shepard, Mandatory Counseling Log 003, restored upon appeal over original rejection of entry
Chapter 2
Cum grano salis
Arcturus was widely considered the heart of the Imperial Terran Navy, serving as its headquarters and home to the largest shipyards in terran space. The industrial complex around the Jovian moon of Ganymede however was the navy's main research and development complex, housing arguably the most advanced tooling and boasting a shipyard as productive if not more so than any at Arcturus. It was here that HMS Normandy had been built, and here that the remains of the ship were being analyzed to better understand the foe that had bested her.
For Shepard, setting foot in the enclosed drydock where the Normandy's remains were located simply fanned the smoldering fury she felt. For with the destruction of the ship came not just the death of her brother, but so many other friends and colleagues, people whom were her crew. People whose deaths would not go unanswered.
"Major Shepard," a neatly dressed man greeted.
Shepard looked over and gave a nod. "Mr. Bosker. I must admit some surprising to hearing you were overseeing the Normandy investigation."
Clark Bosker, a civilian analyst attached to the Office of Naval Intelligence and whom Shepard had had an encounter in the past over the return of a certain deceased marine's body to her family, gave a wry smile.
"When the analysis was originally organized, the suspicion was that the Normandy had been ambushed by geth forces, hence my assignment."
"I see," Shepard said, cocking her head aside. "And have those suspicions held?"
The smile disappeared as Clark shook his head. "No, Major, they have not. Whatever attacked the Normandy was no geth." The man took a deep breath. "And maybe with your help, we'll be able to figure out exactly who, or what, they are."
Technically the Empire already knew the who, but what exactly the Collectors were remained something of a galactic mystery. There were plenty of rumors, but which ones held any basis in fact was difficult to discern.
"That is why I'm here," Shepard said simply.
"Yes, of course," Clark cleared his throat. "Then, this way please, Major."
Shepard followed the man and as they walked they passed several stations upon which lay fragments of her ship. Some pieces Shepard even recognized, from power conduits to wrecked consoles. The engineers working away spared a glance or two as Shepard passed but otherwise remained focus on the task before them. Further in, the skeletal pieces of the Normandy's hull were suspended in the air with mass effect fields. Holographic overlays helped fill in for destroyed sections along with showing how each piece had broken up. Stress fractures, sheer lines, even the gaping hole marking where the energy beam had sliced through the armor plating came together to show in minute detail just how her ship had died. If there was any useful information, any advantage that might be wrung out of understanding the Normandy's final moments, the Empire would find it, and turn it back against the ship's killers.
"We've managed to recover a great deal of telemetry from the salvaged databanks, and we have enough sensor telemetry to more or less reconstruct the Normandy's final encounter. There is however a sensory fragment from Artemis' core that we haven't been able to decode, and we believe it to be due to how, well, synchronized you were with her."
Shepard nodded. When she was first assigned to the Normandy, the expectation had been she would be part of the ship's complement for quite some time and combined with her Cadre status she and Artemis were given permission to remove the usual buffers that prevented an AI from molding its neural network too closely to that of their human partner's neural topology. While being so closely synchronized meant Shepard and Artemis' relative efficiencies were significantly boosted, it also meant if Shepard was reassigned anyone replacing her would have to go through quite a bit of time retraining Artemis' neural network to get back to even baseline performance.
While the navy had hoped that John's status as Shepard's twin brother might help speed that process along, a close genetic tie did not necessarily mean much. Indeed more recent research indicated that a close upbringing had an equal if not greater influence on how similar people's neural topologies were, and after the divorce Shepard had spent a crucial few years raised separately from her brother. Even more importantly, those years had seen Shepard undergo first stage integration as a synchronizer, while her brother had only completed that shortly before his own assignment to the Normandy. The end result was that Artemis' neural network was still heavily slanted towards Shepard, up to the AI's death along with the Normandy's destruction. Hence the major getting called in for the effort to reconstruct the last few fragments from the AI's memory banks.
"Here we are, Major," Clark sad as they stopped before a workstation.
Shepard laid down on the reclining chair and activated the neural interface mounted at the head. She took a few moments to peruse the data indices, noting the time slices they represented.
"These are the last few minutes of Artemis' conscious memory telemetry," Shepard remarked with a slight frown. "And they're extremely garbled."
"What we were able to surmise as well," Clark said. "The synchronizers we brought in to try to untangle the sensory consciousness couldn't make any sense of it. Some even suggested it might have just been random noise."
The major snorted. "I'll bet their brains were just random noise too."
Clark made no response to that, knowing it was just Shepard venting a bit about the slight, even if unintentional, made against the major's deceased partner. Instead he simply waited for Shepard got to work. Not that there was much to visibly see as the woman closed her eyes to begin the encephalon dive.
As the synaptic responses flowed through the connection, Shepard the familiarity that was Artemis' thought patterns. That familiarity was tinged with a cold rigidity however, a consequence of the AI's neural network fragmented and effectively offline nature. The endpoint with which Shepard was exchanging contact with was not the living weave of information that she remembered. This was barely a sterile facsimile, that let her step into a dead person's shoes one last time. The major dove deeper, and began playing back the so-called noise.
"-Artemis, what are we seeing here?"
Shepard started, though the only visible physical reaction was a twitch of her face. The major however could be excused for being taken by surprise, seeing as it was her brother's voice that now echoed through her head.
"Unable to extrapolate with any degree of certainty," the AI's voice now sounded. "Albedo readings indicate the rocky components are silicaceous in nature, so this could be some sort of station built by connecting several asteroids together. It is unclear however where these asteroids are from, as previous surveys of the Amada system did not place any such bodies in this orbit."
Shepard was now seeing, in a fuzzy manner but still seeing, what the AI was. The bulbous rocky ship that would kill the Normandy was presently hanging dead in space, using itself as bait. Oh how Shepard wished this was a live encounter that would let her blow the bastard into pieces instead of being a mere memory.
"Get the probes in for a closer look," John said. "And go to general quarters."
"Aye sir," Pressly could now be heard. "All hands, general quarters."
Shepard felt the shift in Artemis' prioritization as the AI shunted secondary tasks aside to focus more computational power on the tactical systems.
"Is it my imagination, XO," John said, "or do those tubes look like engines?"
"You thinking this thing might be mobile, sir?" Pressly responded.
"Would explain why it's out of place from the surveys," John said. "Though still begs the question of why."
"Doubt it'd have been pirates or slavers," Pressly said. "Something this big has to have cost a pretty penny, and they're not usually the types to have that much spare change lying around."
Before another word could be exchanged, klaxons began blaring.
"Alert, point defense fire detected," Artemis said. "Two probes have been destroyed."
"Keep a wide berth," John ordered. "That thing's bigger than some dreadnaughts, I don't want to be trying to fight it with just a frigate."
"Aye sir-wait, the thing's moving!"
Indeed, from the telemetry from the sole surviving probe, they could see light erupt from the engine cluster at the rear protrusion from the asteroids. And then the signal from the final probe also dropped, indicating it had fallen victim to the mysterious ship.
"What's its vector?" John inquired.
"Enemy ship is altering trajectory to a direct intercept course," Artemis responded immediately.
"What?" John exclaimed.
"That's impossible," Pressly was right behind him. "We've got the stealth system engaged!"
"I can only report what the data projects," was Artemis' declaration.
"Drop stealth and plot a minimum time course to FTL," John ordered, not wasting any further time in disbelief.
"Aye sir." To his credit, Pressly did not let the abruptness of the order slow him any either. "Course plotted."
"Joker, get us the hell out of here," John said.
"Running like hell, aye," Joker affirmed.
While running away was hardly the most heroic thing to do, the Normandy was despite its impressive capabilities still just a frigate. It was never meant to take on capital ships, of which this mysterious mobile asteroid was certainly in the size bracket of. Furthermore, seeing as one of the Normandy's greatest advantages was seemingly ineffective against this opponent, it became all the more important that they survive to report what they found than to try some valiant last stand. Speaking of which.
"Pulse an update to the admiralty," John said. "Advise them of what we've found, get as much of our tactical telemetry as you can squeeze into the payload. Maybe they'll even be able to get some reinforcements here."
"Transmitting now," Artemis said, bypassing the usual organic interaction for the sake of time.
"Let's hope those reinforcements include a-" Pressly began.
This time Shepard visibly jerked on the chair as the feedback hit her, hard. Or rather the replay of the feedback that Artemis suffered as something struck the Normandy. To Clark's credit, he did not rush to the console to attempt any unwarranted assistance. The man held his nerve, trusting in the safeguards in Shepard's implants to keep the major from coming to any actual harm. Those safeguards were being rather severely taxed however filtering out the feedback while still letting Shepard experience the sensory telemetry.
A few brief milliseconds of interruption were interspersed with that experience, much of it due to the damage propagating through the Normandy's systems. What Shepard saw in between the gaps however was more than enough to have a clear picture of what was going on. Pressly was dead, killed when a piece of shrapnel pierced his suit. Adams was scrambling to evacuate his team from the drive room. John, John had been knocked off his feet, but was pulling himself back up. Up in the cockpit, Joker worked frantically to keep the ship steady while Ashley scanned for what to shoot back at.
"Report!" John called out.
"We've lost the starboard thruster!" Joker called back over the radio. "Power levels are dropping, switching to emergency reserves!"
"New contact!" Ashley said. "Multiple new contacts! Christ they're fast!"
Flitting around the Normandy, over a dozen spherical ships framed by fin-like wings lashed out at the frigate with energy beams. Despite the warship's sluggish pace, she still managed to avoid any killing blows.
"Where the hell did they come from?" John gasped.
"Sensors detected heat signatures mere moments before we were fired upon," Artemis said. "Enemy ships must have remained completely powered down and inert to avoid detection."
"A trap," John growled. "Joker, can we get to FTL?"
"Trying, but-"
The Normandy shuddered again, another hit dumping untold amounts of energy into the ship's frame. The warship was responding in kind however, point defense lasers peppering the space around her. At least some of the flashes about the ship marked successful hits in turn.
"Commander!" Adam's voice broke in. "We're losing equilibrium in the drive core! We're not going to be able to maintain a stable ME field at this rate!"
Which effectively took FTL out of the question.
"Joker, put as much distance between us and that asteroid ship as possible," John ordered, then switched to ship wide. "All hands, this is the captain. Abandon ship, I repeat, abandon ship."
The crew about John actually stopped their frantic movements for a moment, glancing over at him in mid disbelief.
"You heard me!" he shouted. "Get to the escape pods, now!"
That snapped them out of it and they darted away from their stations.
"Commander, Lieutenant," Artemis' voice sounded. "I would recommend abandoning ship yourselves. I will pilot the Normandy and attempt to draw the enemy as far away from the escape pods as possible."
"Oh no, no way am I leaving you behind like that!" Joker protested.
"And I will not allow you to commit a meaningless sacrifice," Artemis responded, not even waiting for permission. "Cockpit controls overridden. Sergeant Williams, please see Lieutenant Moreau to the escape pod."
"Damn it Artemis!" Joker screamed. "Don't you be doing this to me!"
"Joker!" John shouted over the channel. "Artemis is trying to save your life! Let her. That's an order."
No answer came from the lieutenant, but John could see from his HUD Ashley and Joker's signals moving now.
"Better see you on the other side too, skipper," Ashley said.
"Don't worry Sergeant," John said. "I'll be right behind."
Despite saying so, John made no move towards any of the remaining pods, a point that did not escape one crewmember in particular.
"Commander, I advise you to evacuate as well," Artemis said over their private link.
"And how much trouble would you be in if I ended up desynchronizing right now?" John responded.
"Less trouble than if I were to be the cause of Major Shepard losing her brother," was Artemis' retort.
John actually heard himself laugh, despite the gravity of the situation. "You know, I'm kind of afraid of facing Jane myself after losing her old ship like this."
Artemis made no response for a few seconds, which was an effective eternity for an AI.
"You know your sister well," the AI finally said. "Initiating random walk evasion. Please buckle in."
Strapping himself into one of the intact chairs, John felt his world turn upside down as Artemis began flinging the Normandy about as if the ship were a feather. With the dampening effect of the mass effect field severely degraded, the only thing keeping John from getting smeared by the g-forces was the slight inertial shielding his armor offered. Even so, it took all his effort to avoid blacking out.
Despite the damage to the ship, Artemis was still able to drive the Normandy at a respectable pace. Combining her raw computational bandwidth with John's reflexive cognition, Artemis twisted the frigate around to both avoid incoming fire and also line up the Normandy's own guns for returning fire. Six of the mysterious drones were dust and vapor now, and two others were noticeably slowed after glancing hits from point defense lasers. The biggest threat of all however was still the asteroid ship barreling down upon them, a ship that the Normandy could barely scratch with her conventional arsenal. That however was not going to stop Artemis from trying.
The Normandy carried as part of its payload three tactical nuclear warheads, each one in the kiloton range and intended for what amounted to demolition purposes. In those rare instances where the navy discussed its handling of such weapons, it stated that these warheads needed manual human intervention to arm and deploy, to avoid any sort of electronic hack detonating them. There were however a set of conditions that did allow Artemis to arm them without assistance from her human crew however, namely the situation where her crew was indisposed of and she gained the authorization of the ship's captain, assuming said captain was still present to grant it.
"Commander Shepard, permission to initiate Biscuit protocol."
John blinked, fighting to remain focused. "Permission granted."
Of the three warheads, only one was ever ready for immediate launch at any given time, and it was also the one that Artemis could remotely arm. The AI now did so as it laid in an intercept vector for the asteroid ship. A kiloton nuke was not going to do much against a rock that big, but a strategically placed warhead could still cripple the mechanical parts of the ship. And if that placement happened to be someplace like those engines strapped onto the rear, the ship could at least be neutralized well enough to keep it from pursuing the scattering escape pods.
Another mysterious drone exploded, swatted aside as the frigate charged through. Even with one engine outright destroyed, the Normandy was still able to put out more thrust than the small ships haranguing her and so finally managed to escape the envelopment. Unfortunate the fighters it left behind were not the only ones at the asteroid ship's disposal, as more contacts appeared on the sensors. This was perhaps to be expected, as something as large as the colossus before them certainly had room for more than the dozen or so ambushers that jumped the Normandy. Indeed many of the contacts were charging off from disparate directions, suggesting they too had been deployed to try and surprise the frigate.
The greatest threat to the Normandy remained however the asteroid ship she was charging. And though Artemis had yet to witness its tactical capabilities, there was a high probability that the larger ship possessed a similar complement as that of its drones. Those drones were already revealed they possessed extremely powerful energy weapons, of higher output than anything the Empire or indeed any of the Council races fielded. Even were the Normandy's kinetic barriers still operating at peak efficiency, they would have been entirely useless against what amounted to high energy light. If the asteroid ship carried such weapons proportionately scaled, it could slag the Normandy effortlessly.
A slight shift in the thermal characteristics at the center core of the rocky hulk was all the warning Artemis got, but the AI still managed to wrench the Normandy, interposing one of the asteroid ship's own rocky protrusions between the frigate and the glowing core. The act proved wise indeed as an orangish beam of light lanced out, slicing after the Normandy but falling short as the beam cut out before it sliced through its own ship. The asteroid ship dipped, seeking to line up its main gun to take another shot at the Normandy, but the smaller ship was just quick enough still to keep a pace ahead.
Even as the frigate raced to stay outside the enemy's line of fire, she also charged ever closer to the larger ship. Doing so however brought entirely new dangers as suddenly hotspots cropped up all along the rocky shell. Artemis immediately recognized them as point defenses, but there was nothing she could do to evade. The beams of light slammed into the Normandy, and for the second time today Shepard's body jerked as the feedback washed over her. This time the interrupted telemetry lasted for over a second, a very long time indeed for an AI. When the telemetry resumed, the major felt a sudden coldness in the sensory data. A coldness that she quickly recognized came from the sudden absence of a partner mind melding with Artemis.
The Normandy's command deck was completely exposed to space, with holes blown down to the deck below it also sprinkled about. John was nowhere in sight, having disappeared in that second-long gap of telemetry. Shepard prayed that her brother's end game swiftly, the thought of him being blown into space and dying in the cold vacuum was too painful to contemplate. It was already bad enough that she was experiencing Artemis' death throes.
The AI, having lost her partner, was shocked into a sort of reactive mode. The fine, granular actions she was previously capable of plotting were gone, with Artemis resorting to sheer brute force. If the frigate was indeed in range of the asteroid ship's point defenses, then that meant the Normandy herself was in range to respond. This the frigate did, as she unloaded everything in her guns and tubes, with the hope that the volume of fire might saturate the enemy ship's point defenses to allow a singular payload through.
Whether Artemis' final gambit succeeded or not, Shepard could not tell, for the Collector cruiser had managed to turn about to stare down at the Normandy. The central emitter began glowing brightly, and then the sensory telemetry came to an abrupt and total end. As the neural link faded, a single thought reverberated through Shepard's mind, the overriding priority that drove Artemis' desperate last stand. The crew first. The crew first.
"Are we certain about this?"
The backdrop of the office was that of a glowing red giant, plumes of superheated plasma occasionally rising before collapsing back onto the roiling surface. The view was of course not from an actual window, the bombardment of solar radiation at the distances suggested by the visage would have been decidedly unhealthy. Staring straight at a sun was also generally not advisable. The meticulously crafted projection on the other hand was specially filtered so that one could stare at it for hours on end and not suffer from any eyestrain. It reminded the room's occupant of grandeur that was the wider universe, of how infinitesimally small a mere human was. And also how much change could be effected by the right human, in the right place, at the right time.
The Illusive Man took a long inhalation of his cigarette before responding. "Certain about what?"
Miranda, hands on hips and looking ever so pensive, turned about to face him. The two of them were mere specks against the churning light of the projections, but they could see each other with crystal clarity.
"About granting Shepard so much leeway. We're investing an awful lot in her, without any assurances that she won't turn those same resources against us."
Ash scattered as the cigarette was stubbed out on the tray.
"You've so rarely encountered a situation where you're not in total control, it upsets you whenever one does arise, doesn't it?" the Illusive Man remarked.
Miranda's face grimaced. "I don't think my concerns are unfounded. The major absolutely loathes Cerberus. Without some sort of safeguard, who knows how much damage she could inflict if-"
"And say we do attempt to insert a safeguard," the Illusive Man cut her off. "Are you absolutely certain it would go undiscovered? What would be the ramifications if Shepard, or His Majesty, were to discover our duplicity?"
Miranda's lips thinned, but she did not give up just yet. "They should be mature enough to recognize that precautions on our part are entirely reasonable."
The Illusive Man actually shook his head at that one. "The conditions for our collaboration on this matter were set very clearly. Shepard is to have full autonomy, and Cerberus will not attempt to subvert or undermine her in any way whatsoever. To take what you term reasonable precautions would be entirely counter to our word, and if we are found to have broken it, it will not just be the good major that is set upon us."
"If they find out," Miranda murmured, but she did not press further. The point had been made after all.
"If the major is to have any chance in hunting down these Collectors, she needs to be entirely focused on that task, not constantly looking behind her back," the Illusive Man stated. "In this instance, both her objectives and that of humanity as a whole align. Besides, by demonstrating a modicum of tact and trustworthiness, she will start to be inclined to at least consider our words in the future, even if she will still instinctively want to dismiss them. Demonstrate our usefulness and credibility enough times, and Shepard will find her own excuses to justify to herself listening to us further."
Miranda nodded, even if she was not entirely convinced Shepard would be so easily manipulated. No, easy was the furthest thing from the effort it would take. But upon further reflection, the method the Illusive Man proposed was probably the only way that could work on someone as principled as the major, even when her judgment was compromised by her desire for vengeance.
"Speaking of resources," the Illusive Man continued, "how fares assembly of a crew to support Shepard?"
Drawn back to the mundane practicalities of her mission, Miranda answered with clear precision.
"Approaches have been made to all of the Normandy's surviving crew," she said. "About 40% have agreed to sign on, especially after being made aware that Shepard herself would be returning. It is also my understanding that Lieutenant-Commander Chakwas has already been approached by Colonel Ryder and agreed to participate. We are missing a few officer slots however. Lieutenant Gregory Adams, the chief engineer, declined to join. And Lieutenant Charles Pressly, the executive officer, was one of those lost aboard the Normandy."
"You have already been appointed as Shepard's second and can fill in the executive officer role," the Illusive Man declared, even if the major herself had yet to learn of this arrangement. "As for engineering personnel, check for candidates amongst those personnel that participated in the Battle of the Citadel. Such crewmen will likely have a greater appreciation of the threat the Reapers represent and be willing to lend their assistance, especially if they learn Shepard is the one leading the mission."
"I'll run a filter on the personnel database and see what hits we get," Miranda said.
"Good," the Illusive Man said. "And what of the actual field team?"
"Lieutenant Jacob Taylor has already agreed to join," Miranda said, "and Zaeed Massani, the mercenary, has indicated a willingness to accept the offered contract. We think we might have been able to also get in touch with Kasumi Goto, the thief, and are negotiating her inclusion even now. But finding the necessary additional technical expertise from a purely human pool is proving extremely difficult."
"Expand the search," the Illusive Man said. "If they have capabilities or skills that will further increase the chance of the mission's success, I don't care if they're aliens or not."
"Are you sure about that, sir?" Miranda asked.
"The major has already demonstrated the ability to lead a multi-racial team to complete a high-stakes mission," the Illusive Man said. "We can depend on her to keep in line any alien that is recruited."
"Then I'll have the headhunters expand their search," Miranda said. "Still, it'll likely be a few months yet before viable candidates can be identified and approached."
"The major will likely require at least that much time to complete surgery and physical therapy," the Illusive Man said. "There is still time, but not any to waste."
"Understood," Miranda affirmed.
"Major Shepard."
The look of surprise that cropped up on Shepard's face was not due to being called to, but rather because of whom was doing the calling.
"Dr. Chakwas?" the major responded. "What are you doing here?"
"It's nice to see you too," Chakwas said with a teasing smile. "And I am here because there is a patient in need of my care."
It was more a grimace than a smile, the expression that Shepard cast. "You probably have some inkling of what kind of a patient I am these days, doc."
"Perhaps so, but so long as you are in need of care, I will be here," Chakwas said kindly.
A slight flicker of guilt stirred in Shepard's chest, but it remained just a flicker before petering out. Still, the sense of gratitude that the major also felt lingered.
"So, does that mean you're the first recruit for my new command?" Shepard asked.
"Amongst other things," Chakwas answered. "I am also here to crosscheck the augmentation suite that will be installed within you, to ensure it does exactly what is advertised and not a single thing more."
To that Shepard gave a slow nod. While it was certainly true that the major was trusting Cerberus enough to let them install hardware of their design in her body, that trust was far from unequivocal and absolute. Indeed Shepard distrusted Cerberus heavily, and her acceptance of the organization's offer was heavily predicated on her genuine trust in the technical competency of the Cadre's support personnel, both organic and synthetic, and their ability to find anything untoward in the implants in question. That being said, while Chakwas' presence was certainly welcome in its familiarity, the doctor was not as far as Shepard knew part of the Cadre's medical support staff.
"Don't take this the wrong way, doc, but do you think you're up to this?" Shepard asked.
To the good doctor's credit, she took no offense from the question, even if her response was not entirely devoid of snark.
"Do recall, Major, that over the duration of your posting aboard the Normandy, I have had to attend to your desynchronized implants at least four times. I daresay I am likely to be far more familiar with your physiological quirks than even the Cadre's own doctors."
Thinking back, Shepard tried to recall the exact instances of each count. The first was certainly Eden Prime, after she interfaced with the prothean beacon and its feedback knocked her out. The second was probably after her conversation with Liara and mention of the cycle of extinction caused the beacon's message to trigger another blackout. The third would have to be the aftermath of the raid on the Cerberus research station that was trying to study rachni, where Shepard had been forced to overexert her biotics to get Ashley safely back to the Normandy through hard vacuum. That would make the fourth instance Virmire, when Shepard nearly died from Sovereign's bombardment. And the only reason there was not a fifth time after she killed Saren on the Citadel was because the Normandy had been back at Ilos and thus physically too far away for Chakwas to tend to the major. So, the doctor probably had a point.
"So how did you even find out about all this?" Shepard asked.
"Colonel Ryder contacted me, asking if I would be interested in assisting on a, as he described it, sensitive but important mission that you were undertaking," Chakwas said. "Knowing you, I felt you would eventually have need of my attention, so I agreed."
Shepard chuckled. "Can't argue with that. So is today just a courtesy call or an actual checkup?"
"A bit of both," Chakwas said. "I am also to review with you the specific physiological impact of the new augmentation suite. I know you've already gone over the specifications yourself, but I want to make sure you are aware of the medical implications in detail."
"Sounds good to me."
Tapping her tablet, Chakwas turned on the projection in the examination room and brought up imagery of a human body. Shepard's body, actually, along with lit up markers indicating all the various implants and augmentations sprinkled around inside.
"I have to admit, Major," Chakwas began, "a certain trepidation the first time I reviewed the proposed procedure. In all honesty, the augmentation process that Cerberus is proposing amounts to more or less an effective reconstruction of your body."
Shepard did not quite shrug, if only because she knew the doctor would not be amused with her taking light of the situation.
"I'm already supposed to represent the pinnacle of how far we can push the human body, doc," the major said instead, "and I just barely scraped out a win against the Saren husk. If we've hit a dead-end with one approach, then we find another way. If this is the way, so be it."
Chakwas sighed in mild resignation but did not argue the point. "As I was saying, the installation process will be extremely extensive, and intrusive. We'll start with the muscle augments first." The projection zoomed into one of Shepard's legs. "The way that the nanotube mesh needs to actually be interleaved with your muscles means they can't actually be inserted into your existing muscles. We're going to have to print entirely new muscles onto a nanotube scaffold, then surgically replace your existing muscles with the new ones."
"How much of my musculature are we talking about replacing here?" Shepard asked.
"Close to 80%," Chakwas answered. "Anything less and there's a risk that an unaugmented muscle will tear when you exert too much force with an augmented muscle. In fact, the need to more securely anchor your muscles to the bones is another reason why we need to basically do a wholesale replacement."
"That's going to take a lot of manual stitching to tie all those muscles back into my nervous and circulatory system," Shepard noted.
"Quite," Chakwas agreed. "Growing the muscles themselves won't take that much time. Actually transplanting and integrating them into your body is the difficult part."
"Timeframe?"
"We're looking at two months of near constant surgery," Chakwas said. "Then at least six months of intensive physical therapy. You're going to have to basically relearn your entire body."
"No pain no gain," Shepard said.
"Oh, there will be a significant amount of pain, of that you can rest assured," Chakwas said. "There are also some of the practical consequences of this sort of augmentation. You already had a significant appetite before to feed your increased metabolism. After augmentation you'll need to take an additional set of supplements to meet your increased mineral, vitamin, and hormonal needs. Your base caloric intake will also increase, by about 30% based on the latest projections."
Considering Shepard had already been the biggest eater amongst her former crew, and that was including Wrex, the amount of food she would be packing away in the future would be considerable indeed.
"How much reserve am I going to have in the field?" Shepard asked.
An army marched on its stomach after all, and the bigger the individual stomach the more food required. As all Cadre possessed higher caloric intake requirements, even if not to the lengths that Shepard was about to reach, the Empire had put some thought into figuring out how to make sure its elite formations did not starve or be rendered combat ineffective at the first sign of trouble with the supply lines.
"According to the specs, we should be able to pack enough nutritional paste into your emergency dispensary to last you for two weeks," Chakwas said.
Said dispensary was actually an implant hooked up to Shepard's intestine, able to pump in a highly concentrated paste that would provide her with enough nourishment to keep the major fighting. Shepard had only had occasion to rely on it twice before, with neither experience being anything she cared to go through again. But better to have the fallback than to be caught utterly unprepared.
"Alright, what about the computational augments?" Shepard asked next.
Chakwas pursed her lips. "To be frank, Major, these implants are probably the most worrisome of the lot. You are aware that the current set of synchronizer implants you possess are capable of running purely off of the electrochemistry of your body?"
"Well, sure," Shepard said, "assuming I'm willing to not actually synchronize with anything."
It was as the major stated, while the synchronizer implants were capable of operating as basically passive switches and routes for her body's nervous system, this low-power mode was so low-power that she could not actually make the wireless connection necessary to communicate with an AI.
"That may be so, but the power requirements for controlling your augmented body are such that the new synchronizer implants need to be actively powered even when you are not actively synchronizing," Chakwas said.
That elicited a raised eyebrow. "What, you mean I won't even be able to walk without the things drawing juice?"
"More or less, Major," Chakwas said. "The amount of power necessary is not actually that high, but it is high enough that your body's biochemistry cannot solely provide it. To that end, you will need a supplemental power supply at all times."
"That's going to get annoying real fast," Shepard remarked. "And it could end up as the weakest link in any sort of long-term deployment."
"The Cadre armory is looking into something that might help you passively generate the necessary power, perhaps via basic locomotion," Chakwas said. "I am inclined to think they will succeed. The amount of power stipulated by the specification is not very high, it just is a matter of being beyond the human body's biochemistry."
"Lovely," Shepard said with a slight sigh. "So, is that all the bad news, or are you saving the worst for last?"
The doctor's lips did not even twitch. "I do not know if this constitutes as bad news, but we have yet to discuss your prospective partner AI."
To that Shepard found herself in general agreement with the doctor. After all, a wildcard was not necessarily bad. It was not necessarily good either.
"On this matter you are likely to have a better understanding of the nuances, Major," Chakwas said, "as my own clinical experience with AIs has been far more limited. It was also not a discipline I undertook as part of my medical training, so my assessment is limited by what I've been able to pick up from the available literature since I first joined the Normandy."
That was not exactly a short amount of time, but neither was it really that long ago either.
"There is also the additional qualifier, that this new AI is one that uses quantum blueboxes as its foundational hardware," Chakwas continued. "This makes the AI something of a generational leap compared to her predecessors, so how much of the past literature applies is also something of an open question."
"So it's a girl then?" Shepard zoned in on what she considered the most pertinent point.
Chakwas snorted. "Yes, the AI is a girl, Major. Her name is EDI, an acronym of Enhanced Defense Intelligence. She is also still something of a prototype, much like Colonel Ryder's SAM AI. I presume once the technology has reached sufficient maturity to allow for general use, their younger siblings will draw their names from folklore and mythology like their older brethren."
"Probably," Shepard said. "So EDI is online already?"
"Yes, and the plan is to have you do a partial synchronization with her before you go under the knife," Chakwas said. "Let the two of you start familiarizing with each other."
"Well I'll be sure to be on my best behavior for our first date."
Chakwas snorted. "Somehow, Major, I am not assured in the least."
Shepard flashed the doctor a playful smirk. A smirk that somehow still held a certain eager edge to it.
End of Chapter 2
The last stand of the HMS Normandy, ladies and gentlemen. I wanted mine to be a bit more epic than the frigate basically getting one-shot, and I also wanted to more strongly emphasize the actual doctrinal approach a warship would have taken in such a situation. I also wanted to give Artemis a proper send-off. She may not have been as fleshed out as I would have liked in Duty, but she was still a member of the Normandy's crew.
Tactically speaking, one must recall that the Normandy is just a mere frigate. The Collector Cruiser is bigger than some dreadnaughts. The sane reaction would therefore indeed be to run. The fact that no normal frigate would stand any chance against the cruiser is going to be a major consideration as the story unfolds.
It never made any sense that the Normandy's wreckage would be allowed to remain in the Amada System. The ship represented cutting edge military technology, and even ignoring that its computer systems would have held classified files relating to the navy's activities. Even basic fleet transits could be of strategic import if used cleverly. Then there was the stealth technology, which one would think the navy would want to make sure was kept secret at all costs. As such, in my story at least, the ITN moved in immediately to collect as much debris as they could find and carted it all away. They also made extensive efforts to locate the bodies of all the crew that perished. Despite those efforts however John's body was not amongst those recovered. I'm sure that's not going to come back and bite everyone later…
In ME3, the Illusive Man unfortunately became something of an archetypical supervillain caricature, in my opinion at least. The way he carried himself felt much less subtle and he felt more like an unhinged maniac than a carefully plotting leader. Some of that could be attributed to his indoctrination, but there was a slight shift in tone in general. For my version of the Illusive Man, I want to demonstrate the danger he represents not just by the resources at his beck and call, but also by the patience that he's capable of exercising.
One very random detail. My Chakwas is actually a lieutenant-commander in the navy's medical corps, meaning that throughout Duty she was actually at the same rank as Shepard and actually outranked both Pressly and Adams, at least paygrade wise. There was no question of who was in command of course, Chakwas' authority is purely limited to medical matters and Shepard was the actual ship captain. That being said, Chakwas' rank does mean she can be a lot more frank and direct with Shepard than the rest of the crew could without crossing into insubordination.
Happy Turkey Day to those of you that celebrate it. Hopefully the Christmas music wasn't too insufferable for those of you that actually braved the crowds on Black Friday.